That Time I Convinced My Dad I was Pregnant. Or Maybe Getting a Divorce.

Okay, first of all, I am not pregnant. Just getting that out of the way. This story is actually like six months old and I never got around to writing it down. The content's a bit dated, but the story is fantastic and now feels like a good time to talk about it so I'm running with it.

I am a planner. I have accepted this about myself. If I am not actively planning something I go stir crazy. I can't help it, it's in my blood. When I showed my father the spreadsheets I had compiled for my trip to Disney last year (yes, I really did this) I think he was more proud of me than he had ever been before.

Being engaged was an awesome outlet for my crazy planning shenanigans. I got to plan things for TWO WHOLE YEARS PEOPLE. It was glorious. Then the wedding came and went and I was left without anything to plan. So sad. So boring. And when I get bored, I scheme. And this time, I schemed up something reallll good.


My parents celebrated their 30th wedding anniversary in May. And what better way to celebrate than by throwing them a surprise party?! Perfect. Done. Something new to plan! And so I started planning... I collaborated with my parents' friends and siblings, found a date that worked for everyone and sent out invitations. I even drove three hours upstate (twice!) to check out venues and confirm other such details. I also wanted to have some photos of them throughout the years so I even broke into conveniently dropped by their house when I knew they wouldn't be home. Both times I stayed the night with a friend of mine who lives in the area and my parents never found out until after the party.

In order to lure my parents to the restaurant I told them that the husband and I were coming upstate for the weekend to visit some friends. We wouldn't have time to stop by the house so would they like to meet us in Albany for dinner? They agreed and everything was going perfectly.

Too perfectly.

A few days before the party my dad sent me an email. He was so sorry, but he completely forgot that he had to march in a parade (he is a town board member and often has to attend various town events. Even ridiculous events, like a parade) at the exact time that I had made dinner reservations. Could we maybe push dinner a little later?

Hm. Okay. I start to panic. But just a little bit. I quickly type up a reply.

"No, that won't work for us. We need to meet friend at XYZ time and if we push our dinner any later we won't make it in time. Is the parade really that important? We would really like to see you guys!"

Yep, looks good. I mean, come on... It's just a stupid parade. At that moment I was feeling pretty confident. Until...

"I really can't miss this parade. I gave them my word that I would be there and you know that I hate to break promises like that. I'm really sorry we won't be able to see you guys this time, but you'll be up again soon, right?"

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Now I'm panicking. Like calling my husband from work in a frenzy kind of panicking. This whole thing is about to blow up in my face and there is only one thing I can do to stop it. I review the game plan with my husband and now rope my brother into it as well. I take a deep breath and type a response.

"Hm. I didn't want to have to tell you this over email, but it's really important that we talk to you in person this weekend. We even arranged for J [my brother] to take a train in from Philadelphia. We were going to pick him from the train station and go straight to the restaurant. Are you sure you absolutely cannot get out of this thing?"

You guys. I felt terrible about this. It was just vague enough that it didn't require me to create some elaborate lie, but just specific enough to freak him out. I had no idea what conclusions he would draw from that email, but I hoped it sounded believable enough that he would cancel his plans (and not see through my complete and utter bullshit).

Waiting for his response was the most excruciating hour of my life. I walked around my office in a state of distress, lamenting my sorry situation to anyone who would listen. And oh did people listen. They were soaking this shit up and thought it was one of the most entertaining things they had ever heard (seriously, these people need to get out more).

And then... The response.

"Ok. I'm sorry I had to pull it out of you this way. I will do what I have to do to get out of this thing and I won't say anything to your mother about this conversation. See you Saturday."

What. Just. Happened.

For five whole days I was inconsolable. I was going to Hell. I just knew it. What's that commandment? Honor your father and mother? Well, this certainly wasn't honorable. But what other choice did I have? After months of secretly sneaking behind their backs I was not going to let it all fall apart over a fucking PARADE.

Saturday came and well...

See for yourself.

My aunt was filming for me. Moments to note: 38 seconds in, where she says, "Your daughter's not pregnant!" and 2:05 where the godforsaken parade was mentioned.

Needless to say, they were surprised.

A good time was had by all.

But I definitely will NOT be hosting another surprise party any time soon. My morals and my blood pressure just can't handle it.

Have you ever hosted a surprise party?

Fucked Up Kids

I have a real blog post coming soon, but until Blogger fixes their ish and lets me post a video, I'm leaving you all with this instead:

Last night the husband and I were having a particularly perverted conversation that had me laughing til I cried. When I finally caught my breath, I looked at him and said, "Wow, our kids are going to be really fucked up, aren't they?"

Without even missing a beat, he looked back at me with the most serious face in the world and said, "Oh, absolutely."

Please tell me we're not alone.

Have a Seat

No seriously. This is a really long ridiculous story, but the world needs to know it. You might want to be sitting down for this.

A million years ago the husband and I found ourselves in possession this couch:

Actually it was a couch AND a love seat combo. A practically brand new set that we snagged for $200 total. Honestly, it was a great deal. And it was a great couch. For a bunch of broke college kids. The husband and I had many great years with this couch. It moved a total of six times. Usually in the back of the husband's Jeep.

But after eight years with us, the couch had seen better days. The frame was broken, there were stains on the cushions and I can't even count the number of people who have slept/gotten sick/had sex on that couch (hey, we had some wild parties back in the day... what can I say?). So it was time to part with our party couch and get ourselves a real adult couch.

Easier said than done.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year everyone! Yea I'm a few days late and yea, I took an unintentional hiatus last month, but I promise I have a really good explanation for that. Except I'm not going to talk about that right now. That's a post for another day that I may or may not write. I mean, come on... You've seen my track record on this blog. Don't hold your breath.

Anyways, I last left off with a not so great apartment tour and now it's time to chat about what needs to happen in order to make this place not look like some college kid's first apartment. So let's do the room by room thing and we can make a game out of how many things I will completely give up by the end of the year!

It's Apartment Tour Time!!

Hi hi hi hi! I just came back from spending 10 days up north with my family for Thanksgiving. I had all of these grand plans for posting while I was away, but instead I just sat around eating turkey and spending time with loved ones. I'm pretty sure I gained about 500 pounds. Worth it.

Anyways, I'm back now and it's time to show off this kickass apartment we rented. The husband and I still haven't quite adjusted to how much cheaper it is to live here compared to New York. Sometimes I just look around and wonder how the hell we are affording this place. Then I remember that we're paying less than what we were paying in New York for three times the space and my head explodes.

Ok. So. Pictures! Yay!

The Drive

I promise this will be my last post on boring moving shenanigans. I am dying to share our new apartment with you and get back to what I do best... Pretending I know how to decorate and organize my shit.

It Is Your Birthday.

I'm taking a break from our regularly scheduled moving shenanigans to bring you this:

Well, no. Actually it is my birthday. I mean, maybe it's yours too, I don't really know. And if it is you should tell me, because yay! Birthday twins!

Anyways I thought today would be a good time to check out my 30 before 30 list, which I have severely neglected and probably not made any progress on at all, but I am all about keeping it real so we're going to look at it anyways.