Los Porchs

I look damn good doin' it.  Or so I was told today by a random guy on the street as I was (indeed) power-walking.  Don't judge.  I have bad knees and respond best to walking.  At least I don't pretend to have ski poles!   Something got this dude's attention -- needless to say, I'm certain it was the shoes.  You know that thing (most) chicks do?  The "Imma buy new shoes to motivate myself to work out!" which loosely translates to "These shoes are cute and I want them."  I did this.  If we're being honest, I've done it for the majority of my life.  I did, at least, refrain from wearing them for non-exercise purposes and really feel like I should get some bonus points for that effort.  Would you believe I've had these for like 9 months?  Yeah, that whole "work out" phase lasted real long. Chicago has had what I can only describe as the crappiest winter ever.  Honestly?  Did we even have snow?  Suddenly, al...

So I found this website that allows you to click the names of states you've visited (read: driven through, stopped, lived, etc).  I quickly realized that I need to hurry up and visit the western states!  We have friends in Colorado that could probably help us out with this!  Which states are you hoping to visit?

World's best plant, right here guys.  Barnabe is amazing and we love him.  We've loved him since bringing him home from Home Depot (I know, right?!) two years ago when we moved into Casa de Los Porchs (West Loop Edition).  While we are excited that he is thriving and can't wait to put him in his new sun room, we don't really love his spring spears of death (as displayed below).  Why?  Lean in a little too closely while watering and you can quickly gouge your eye out.  He's a great attack plant, the problem is he only ever seems to attack us! Perhaps "doom" is a better phrase... he won't hurt you --- much. 

You're welcome for the amazing illustration to help you better visualize. Oh, no reason... Just love the part of moving boxes where the bottom falls out because someone (me) decided to put all of the cookbooks into one box with some other heavy shit, taped it shut, and didn't label the box. So when Porch tries to lift it out of the truck, the bottom gives out and my shit is all over the street. This? Could have been avoided if I had labeled the damn box... Or just used the plastic Rubbermaid totes. Side note: We haven't labeled ANY of the boxes in this move. Instead, we'll spend the entire moving weekend shuffling stuff around the house and trying to figure out where everything goes... It's a fun game we like to play. ** Update:  We now box things with a little more care, caution, and/or humor.

Anyone who knows Porch & me knows that from time to time we say ridiculous things.  The kind of things that make you stop what you're doing or thinking and just kinda do the minion from Despicable Me... Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa? So yesterday, we're out for a walk and just kind of chatting about the pros and cons of our new place.  Happy to report there are more pros than cons. We're talking about the extra space and Porch declares, "It'll be nice to have room for when we're raising someone." Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa? Just the way he said it made it sound like we were about to raise people for fun.  "Yes, Porch and I have this new hobby -- raising people."  I just about fell over in the street laughing.  Even this morning, I'm still giggling about this comment. It's like Mr. Big said... “After a while, you just want to be with the one that makes you laugh.” And that he does.  That he does.

It occurred to me today that our new place is going to need a name.  The lazy bone is whispering, "Just go with Casa de Los Porchs, no one will notice (also, no one cares)."  But the excited nerd is chanting "But it's a new house and it deserves a new name!" as though it's been slamming Red Bull all day and has the shakes. I mean, I've named our plant.  Why wouldn't I name our new home?  Seriously. So here is my request... What suggestions do you have for the name of our new place?

This may shock you all, but I am a little shy sometimes.  I don't know why.  In fact, it's not a very consistent level of shyness either because some days I'm bold and willing to approach most anyone and others, I can't find the gusto to walk up to someone who I think I recognize from my friend's recent wedding party.  So we're sitting at the table with friends and I notice this chick and am 90% sure it's her.  I even went so far as to pull up the wedding pictures on Facebook to see if I could get a better comparison... but she wasn't wearing her glasses for the wedding pictures.  Three beers later, I magically had found my courage and made my approach.  Good news -- it was her.  And so we chatted and all was well.  With that off my mind, I could get into the dueling pianos. We (first and) last saw each other in August, where we were both bridesmaids in a mutual amazing friend's wedding. As they often do, things started to get more entertain...