Happy Birthday Furkid #1!

My very first furbaby turned 5 over the weekend! Anyone who knows me has heard at least one story about my little monkey Bella. She's a pretty big deal around these parts and has served as woman's best friend, roommate, a caring ear and even a shoulder to cry on. She may not be the most well trained dog, but she's the best furkid I could ask for. She makes me laugh almost daily and her little antics never fail to entertain.

I got her one week before I graduated college and at that time never could have even imagined what an impression she'd make on me and how much she'd come to mean to me during such a period of change. I've probably grown, developed and changed more in the last 5 years that I have in almost any other period of my life. I'm no longer told what the next step is or what I "should" be doing. I'm making life decisions on my own that will affect me forever. And Little B has been there throughout all of it.



She's definitely a little unique but it's all a part of what makes up my little monster. So, Happy Birthday to the best Furkid around and to many more birthdays to come!

Happy 5th Birthday Bella Rose!

Why did the door slam?

I had lunch with a coworker today. She's the one you go to when you know you need the truth. You know the friend. Sometimes you need to go to the friend who will tell you "f them all, you're SO much better than that." Other times you need to hear the "are you for real? Don't be ridiculous." This coworker is the friend who says, "Oh, I see. But did you think of this?" One of her personal goals in almost every conversation I've ever heard her participate in is to be as neutral as humanly possible. And dammit, that woman is neutral. So on occasion when I'm somewhere in the middle of "Could I BE any more right?" and "I think I've gone batshit crazy again" she's a good person to talk to.

She introduced me to my new motto. Or at least the motto I will try my hardest to remember when I'm all, "oh NO s/he did NOT." And that motto my friends, is "why did the door slam?"

Picture this. You're in a room. With me. We're having a conversation about nothing in particular. I get up to leave the room and the door slams behind me. Did I slam the door because I'm so angry at the non-particular conversation you thought we were having? Is there a breeze that grabbed the door and caused it to slam behind me? Is the door a habitual slammer due to poor craftsmanship? Am I not aware of my own brawny biceps? Why exactly did the door slam.

More often that not, we assume (because it's probably happened a time or two) that the "leaver" in this situation is PAF (pissed as fuck, for those of you not related to my brother and therefore, not fluent in his text abbreviations). So you go ahead and assume I'm mad at you. I come back in the room, let's say in this situation I left because I had to use the facilities. I'm back now and you're on the defense with me because I am PAF at you (obviously...in your mind). I totally pick up on your salty ass behavior and assume you're PAF at me because of something I did? (And I'm probably all, how did I do something? I was in the bathroom?!) And then we continue on this vicious cycle until we're both PAF and have no idea why. And the start of it all is that I'm so damn strong I can't possibly shut a door without authority, it's just how I'm built people. Not the first time these biceps got me in trouble.

Okay so obviously that was a mildly exaggerated hypothetical situation, but you've probably been in something relatively similar. And for what? Because you didn't stop that little portion of your brain (you know, the portion that has batshit crazy tendencies...don't act like we don't all have a little bit of that) and ask yourself, "Why did the door slam?"

Seriously, it was like a light bulb went off. And I happen to be in a handful of situations lately where I probably could have had a little less depth to dig myself out of if I had simply just asked myself this simple question. And stopped being insanely illogical. And so, I'm sharing it with you.

You can thank Jean too.

The Packers won the Super Bowl.

I was trying to think of creative titles for this post. Something WOW and EXCITING!!!!! But then I typed "The Packers won the Super Bowl" and it was so wowed and excited me so much I realized, that's it. No capitals or exclamation points needed. They did it. They won.


I have been a Packer fan for as far back as I can remember. My dad grew up in Green Bay...on the other side of the fence as some of the Green Bay Greats. He played football with them after practice was over. I went to my first game at 6 months old. When tasked with coming up with "something Wisconsin" for my speech in 6th grade, I chose Vince Lombardi. I memorized it. I think my dad cried. The first time I was allowed to babysit my brother alone for a full day & night was in '97...mom & dad were in New Orleans for the day. In middle school, my dad taught me more than just the basics of football and the Packers...said it would help me someday when finding a husband. My mom knows football. Her mom knew football. I went to the hearing of Mark Chmura and then was on the news. My father threatened a transfer of schools if I was caught wearing purple upon receiving my acceptance letter to the U of MN. One of the first conversations I ever had with the love of my life included the Packers. We have rituals around our Sunday game days.

I know the Packers. I love the Packers. I was raised on the Packers. I remember Super Bowl XXXI (not because of the game, but because it was the first day I was left alone with my brother and he sliced his finger with a pocket knife after holding a doll hostage...it was a long day). I remember my dad telling me what a big deal it was.

This time? I remember Super Bowl XLV because I knew what a big deal it was. What people don't understand is that it's not just a game. When you're from WI and you've been raised on Green Bay, it's so not just a game. I know it's not life or death. I know the world keeps going, problems and all (problems much bigger than a Green and Gold loss). But being a Green Bay Packers fan means more than wearing Green and Gold and cheering on 50+ people you've never met in your life.

The Super Bowl win means much more, especially this year. It means the little guy can win. That a small franchise owned by the people can overcome. That injury doesn't mean it's over. You step up when you're called. You earn your spot and give it your all for however long you're given. And adversity? Adversity doesn't stand a chance against heart, dedication and passion.

Green Bay fans love their team. We were ecstatic when they made it to the playoffs. Out of our minds when they made it to the Super Bowl. And down right out of control when they won it. But we'd love 'em still. Even if they never made it to the playoffs, we'd love them still. We'd cheer for them just as loud and strong next year.

We're a team from a little "city". One of our biggest controversies this year was about who was included in the Super Bowl Picture..and it was via Twitter. We don't have big personalities who overshadow. We've got good guys who play hard for a city who loves them to pieces.

I'll be honest, I cried (shocking, right?). But in that moment when the clock wound down and my boy Rogers took that knee I was surrounded by people who have stood by their team for 14 years between Super Bowl wins. People who proudly wear their green & gold every Sunday. We hugged, we danced, we high fived, and we celebrated.

The Lombardi trophy is coming home where it belongs...to Titletown. And I couldn't be more proud to support the team who brought it here.

GO PACK GO.


*Pictures taken from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel