let's talk about restoring_sean, llc

I own a company.

Surprise!

I could just end the blog here and mosey along but no, oh no, I've got things to say. And while yes, I do say most of them in the YouTube video at the bottom of this page... the one that'll take you right to my shiny new YouTube channel where you are MORE than welcome to subscribe... it wouldn't be me if I didn't write a bunch of it out too.

So, hello, I am me and this is who I am, and I now own a company called restoring_sean, llc.

Doing this (as in starting an interior design company, a YouTube channel, the instagram account, and subsequently putting myself out there more than I ever have before), boils down to three main points of interest:

     - I've always been someone who loves to share a story 

     - I've always been drawn to design

     - I've always loved the "behind-the-scenes" of how something came together

With all three of those points combined, not only am I Captain Planet, but it also only took me 38 years to figure out what I wanted to do with it. I think to explain how I came to it, let's start at the beginning.

1. Sharing Stories

Four years old and showcasing a flair for dramatics

I asked my mom the other day, at what age did I start coming up with stories? And not necessarily ones based on fact, but maybe... if I spent time with Melanie Burgner down the street, how did I recount that time? Were there some whoppers you detected because I was giving too many details? She couldn't remember me lying (I was good at it), but she said I was probably in the 4-year range. 

Sidebar though, she reminded me that Melanie and I would paint rocks and then go door-to-door selling them down the street, so I guess the entrepreneur Capricorn in me was always ready to make a buck.

By elementary school, once I knew how to read and write proficiently, I loved doing a good book report. What was MY take on the story? 

What picture could I draw to go with it? 

How much could I impress the teacher with my spin on things and creative flair? Usually, it was a lot, though you could also attribute that to being a teacher's pet and always needing people to like me even from a young age, but we're not going to get into that here because it's probably something best left for therapy whenever I decide to go back but I feel like I'm getting off-topic and perhaps sharing a little too much about my inner thoughts and issues and maybe I should just get back to how I tell stories unless you count this as telling a story in which case hello and you're welcome.

10 years old, with a bowl-cut and snazzy soccer uniform

Now, let me be clear on something, I was a total liar as a kid. It was never to be malicious by any means, but DAMN did I love telling a story (usually based on truth) and elaborating on it to the point of (what I hoped) people saying "Holy smokes, what an amazing experience you had!" And I'd nod and think "hell yeah I did," and I'd sometimes tell these stories so frequently that I even started to believe them myself. 

I don't think it was because my life was boring, I just didn't know where to aim that energy of the fantasy world running through my brain at all times.

The wealth of fantasy dried up when my family moved to Wisconsin in 1997, and it stayed dry for a long time. I don't assign that blame to anyone; I think it was just a growing period for me, and in some ways, it was time to put away childish things. I didn't have the kids around me anymore that I'd grown up with, so expressing that silly side (playing Power Rangers in the backyard and getting to be the Pink Ranger, specifically) simply evaporated for a few years. 

Two and a half years, to be precise.

October 1999

Because then I met Katie. 

And through Katie, my fantastical imagination was sparked. Not immediately, but within 8 months, my energy turned to writing what would be the first of four books in "The Onyxus Chronicles" series. I know I praise her a lot for this, but really, it was our conversations about nerdy things like being witches and loving science fiction and fantasy adventures and all the things... it was those conversations that ignited the creativity in my mind and turned me down the path of sharing stories differently.

Towards the end of 2011, I started the blog for Musings of a Self-Proclaimed Author (named partly out of spite for someone telling me all the things I wasn't) because I needed an outlet to share things about my life. I needed to get what felt like the world off my chest, and in doing so, felt it would start moving me in a direction far away from who I was and toward who I wanted to be. 

Which was someone honest. 

Not that the little toe-head liar was still a big part of my life, of course, but I had just exited a toxic relationship where he (and I) both did fair amounts of lying. For my own part, that lying led to more than a fair amount of heartache, and because of it, I instead wanted to pursue a life led by truth. 

Truth first, and absolutely no lies in the blog. 

Ever. 

And I've stood by that because with a certain humorous approach and maybe some soul-crushing insight into my experiences, that's entertaining enough for people to read. I don't need to lie about things that didn't happen, life is thrilling on its own.

August 2014

Fourteen years to the day after starting my book in a red spiral Mead notebook, I was a published author. A year later I released Episode II, two years later came Episode III, and then after another five whole years came Episode IV to wrap it all up. There were more blogs peppered along the way... outlining my moves from Wisconsin to Texas, then Texas to Minnesota, then buying my first house... then my second... and then a move from Minnesota to Wisconsin. 

And now here we are, and now you know about me telling stories. The real ones (blogs) and the fantasy ones (the books).

2. Passion for Design

My SWEET (...) bedroom in 1999; notice the super advanced computer I started writing my book series on

As a kid, I was a big fan of rearranging my bedroom. A BIG fan. Once my older sister Megan got me started on it, I was hooked, and I'd screw around moving my furniture almost every month. Something could always be made to look "better"; you could slap some puffy paint on an alarm clock to dress it up, or use your markers on a lampshade! 

Artwork? Hang it! Don't like where it is? Move it, hang it again!

Don't worry about the 800 million pin-holes you're leaving in the wall! Who cares?

But this was how it was, from roughly age 7 onwards. It definitely picked up when we moved to Wisconsin (and, as previously said, I didn't have as many friends to occupy my time as I did back in California). It was also a bit of a new world because I could have a TV in my room and the old family computer, and that meant there were spaces for entertaining (me and whatever friends came by to watch something from my comprehensive VHS library).

The routine was that I'd silently (or loudly) rearrange my room, and when it was done (re: a showstopper), I'd get my mom to line up outside my door. I'd hold out my hand and say "Tickets, please," and she'd place an imaginary ticket in my hand, then I'd whip open the door and reveal the grand reimagining of my bedroom. She'd smile and laugh and nod, and then go about her day. I'd be left feeling fulfilled and with a sense of accomplishment.

My bedroom circa 2002/2003 in super-trendy red

As the years went on and I grew up a bit, my focus turned to painting my room. I "helped" my mom paint my (new to me) bedroom as a Freshman in high school, and then I repainted it two years later. And again, two years later. And once again, like... three years later. 

I was hooked.

Same room, same wall, circa 2005

Please Note: I'm not showing these pictures for the sake of "trust me, I know what I'm doing!" I'm showing them for the sake of "hey, I've been doing this for 28+ years and clearly I've (thankfully) only gotten better."

It wasn't just an instance of "I'm tired of this color and don't want to look at it anymore." It was that I wanted the entire vibe to change. Usually, paint was the easiest way to do that, but when I was older and working (and inhaling credit-card debt, admittedly), it meant I could achieve those fresh vibes for a room through new furniture, too.

When I got away from clothing retail and working for Express, I began my journey with Pottery Barn. I'd lived on my own for a bit by then, but my sense of "taste" hadn't really turned into much other than what it always had been; putting trinkets (lots of glass bottles) around, occasionally some framed stuff, and when I could, adding new lighting. And candles... gotta have those candles.

Pottery Barn changed that.

I started learning through work that there needed to be a method to the madness. Sure, you could like a vibe, but what was the actual theme that would aim you toward the vibe? And how would you achieve that in your space, re-using what you HAVE and not necessarily replacing everything? I learned there was a reason behind everything, primarily using thought and intention. And sometimes, the answer didn't come immediately; it needed to be researched. 

At this point in time (2012), Pinterest had become a thing, and it was such a huge catalyst for change in the design industry. Suddenly, design felt accessible, y'know? What you used to have to hunt down through catalogs and watch on television shows, you could now search for on Pinterest and be shown a million variations of the thing you wanted to see. 

Anyway.

A few years later, I started buying houses, and we all know how that went. 

With my first house, The Manor, I was very vocal about my work. I shared photos along the way and, every now and then, a video to reveal something exciting about the design. I wanted everyone to see and marvel at it all, mainly due to the significant changes from what the space (whatever space it was) had been before, and what it was now. 

It was rearranging my bedroom on a grand scale, having the power and ability to share that with the world... but consistently backing away from going full-tilt because I always... for whatever reason... felt like it didn't matter. 

The Estate design board

Before I knew it, I was 37 years old and drawing up a massive design plan for my newest house in a software system. I devised a plan encompassing every Sherwin Williams paint color for the house, telling a color story that would move through the rooms, back to front, and then upstairs to finish it off. I developed curated themes for each room, coming up with the small, whimsical details that I wanted to not necessarily hide in them, but to place and leave for people to find and hopefully notice when they visited.

It was in the last few months that I started to realize this was the direction I wanted my ventures to turn toward, designing not just for myself but for others as well. And why for others? 

Well... that's because suddenly I felt like a kid again, standing at the door, asking for "tickets, please."

3. Show and Tell

The Estate's kitchen when I purchased the home

I love the process, and I love talking about the process, and I love sharing what the process looks like. But it's not really fun to write about in blogs, because something is lost in translation, y'know? So I shared the stories with the people I see in real life. And while up til (mostly) now, the work has all been for me, in the last few months, it has also been for other people. As friends get more comfortable with asking these questions (rather than the "oh, you'd be willing to help me with that?" but more of "Say, can you help me with this room?"), I get more and more determined to want to do this. 

Part of my joy with renovating spaces and restoring them to some form of glory, even if not the exact form they had originally been in, is seeing something come to life again.

After working at Pottery Barn for 10 years, I knew that everyone having or controlling that vision for their own space simply didn't exist. It just doesn't. Even in my own family, I remember watching how frustrated my mom would get when they were designing the details of their own home because she couldn't picture how it would all look in the end. And that's not a bad thing, being unable to envision it, because it allows people like me to come in and show.

The Estate's kitchen a year after I purchased

To me, the final 'look' of a space is only as good as the amount of work it took to get it there. Not every room will be a "gut it to the studs" project, I know, but nothing is ever as simple as "slap some paint on it and BOOM, done!" either. 

It takes more than that, and I'm so excited after 6 years of taking pictures and videos of my houses to be able to talk about it more in-depth, to have a forum to do so, and to have it all organized in a way that I can tell a coherent story, from start to finish (at least with two of the houses).

And as for the YouTube portion of this, in what should be considered a surprise to no one, I love being on camera. We know that.

I was an early adopter of selfies in 2006 when MySpace changed everything. Shortly after, I created the multiples, filmed a year of my life, and tried (in vain) to create a video blog back in 2013. Then, I turned the multiples into video form. Then I got real big into Instagram, and on and on and on. I'm comfortable being on camera... call it the storyteller that was always looking for an audience or the youngest of 3 that was always trying to get the most attention. Combining my love for stories with my passion for design and my need to show how I do what I do makes sense to do it in front of a camera.

So, getting down to brass tacks here. Owning restoring_sean is a two-faceted entity: 

1. A YouTube channel devoted not only to the three houses I have owned, renovated, and restored but also to my continuing work in design as time moves forward.

2. An interior design company that I can use for working to help prospective clients.

I have worked toward the YouTube channel for a decade now, but never really figured out a format (or reason) to get it off the ground. There had been a brief moment in time when I thought I was making the transition to video blogs instead of these written ones, but that crashed and burned with all the other off-the-cuff ideas I had conjured in the past. The difference between then and now is that I HAVE a purpose and reason for doing it, and it's one I think people will enjoy. 

And I don't mean that people will enjoy it because it's me on camera, not by any means. I believe you'll enjoy it because people tend to love the before and after process of home remodeling, and I think I can inject a certain amount of levity and humor into it as I go along. Once we are "caught up" with present-day work on the house (I have roughly a year of content before that happens, though), then it will turn to more DIY projects, possibly client projects, and who knows what else in the grand scheme of things? 

I don't want to put too tight of a bow on this project because it will evolve and change a bit, as all of them tend to do.

For the interior design end of things, that's a little different, as it is the 'literal' business side, and it's a full-service job, too. It begins with the consultation process, then moves to the space-planning tool (like an aerial 3D map of the space I'm designing) and mood board based on what we discussed for the project and where I think it should go. Beyond that, it's project management, but that depends on the scale of what is going on (sourcing contractors, permits, installations, shopping for product/decor, additional needs of the client).

And then, in addition to the design end, is the installation services portion. Need a gallery wall hung? Shelves? Drape rods? Need a room painted, fireplace mantle built, lights installed, cabinet hardware changed, new furniture built, rooms re-arranged? I'll do it, usually with a smile (one that required braces twice, thanks) on my face. 

There is a whole menu of services I offer and if you need something done that I either cannot do, or simply won't (don't ask me to do plaster work), I will find you the person who can. Conversely, if you need installation services outside what I offer, I'm certainly open to talking about it.

The future feels bright with restoring_sean, and I feel very optimistic. That alone is a really great feeling, when a large portion of the last several years has just... not been that.

Currently, there is no website, but eventually there will be as I become more established in this arena. I need to pound the pavement, so to speak, and get some more work under my belt that isn't just my own housework. That's when I'll feel comfortable launching that portion of the equation. Trust me, though, it'll come.

Because in the end... it has all come to this. Everything over the last few decades has slowly funneled toward what I want to do with my life, and that's so awesome. I still want to be a world-famous author, sure. And I still want to be discovered by a talent scout while shopping at Target and be put in an Oscar-winning movie, of course. But this is a bit more attainable right now, and ultimately, it's something I enjoy.

Frankly, it's something I'm good at.

So, with ALL of that being said, below is the very first video from my YouTube channel: Episode 1 - Introductions. I will post new videos every Wednesday going forward, with additional content appearing on the @restoring_sean Instagram page (typically content related to the video for that week). There will also be random updates and special videos drawing light to specific events in life or that pertain to the current discussion. The point is, content is coming (after promising it for over a year and a half), and I'm really, truly, very excited to share it.

Until then... click like and subscribe. Let's be friends on this new journey together (c:

a year in wisconsin

It's wild when you look back and see how far you've come in a year. There's so much that can change, shifting and rearranging in a myriad of ways. Not just in your house (of which there was plenty of that) but in your life in general. Moving away from a state you spent 7 years in, saying goodbye to some friends and hello to others, and watching those dynamics transform across the board. Some of it is sad to reminisce about, with not everything making the transition as perhaps I wanted, unscathed or not. Other bits are quite thrilling, with things working out better than I could have anticipated. And I think, in the end, it's the yin-yang of life that balances it all out.

Still sunburnt (tan?) from Australia, and tired, and driving for 5 hours.

In the fall, I wrote a blog, opening at the close, part ii, where I spoke to the uncertainty over my decision to move back to Wisconsin. Kismet aside from moving back to the state on the same day we originally moved here from California back in 1997 and the symmetry of it being 26 years later and all my bullshit regarding 26 Golden Things, was it the right choice? Seeing as it had only been about 6 months since moving, the jury was still out, and I said that I needed more time in order to really feel like it was the right choice.

It wouldn't be me if I didn't say the jury was still out, because it is. Sorry 'bout it. 

There's still no definitive answer, but I do lean toward it being the right decision for the time and not one that I regret. Opinions on timing change frequently, don't you think? It's a good idea sometimes to eat a huge bowl of ice cream at 9pm, and then the next morning you realize, hey, maybe it wasn't a good idea. I'm happy I don't feel that way about moving. I think someday I might move away again, but a lot of circumstances would be very, very different for me when that day comes, and I can't speak with total assuredness of that. 

Part of me still believes strongly that someday I'll move out of the country, but that would also be after certain life events transpire that I'd rather not think about. 

Traveling will suffice for now!

But no, apart from all that heavy stuff, it has been a great year. Four blogs about the house are dropping in two weeks, so I won't go into that here, but the year in Wisconsin started with my purchase of The Estate. It was a relief to take ownership, but it was a long, LONG, long nine months of working on it before I felt I could really take a step back and chill the fuck out. The year moved in interesting ways because of all that time spent on the house. 

In some fashion, time slows down in Wisconsin. Not in an "I hate this place because it never progresses and the world still does!" way because really, we're pretty incubated here in the Fox Valley from the crap going on elsewhere. I mean it in the sense that things just don't move or feel like they move as fast as they did in Minnesota. Sometimes, that's for the better because you can take it easy and enjoy the smaller things; sometimes, it's for the worse.

For the worse in terms of how I miss the access to concerts and the airport (honestly, the airport) and some restaurants, but all of that occurred so randomly and infrequently in my life that you can't be that upset about it. The trade-off comes from my original motivation in moving back to be near family and old friends, and I wouldn't discount that. I wouldn't give that away at all.

The other good that came with moving back, apart from friend and family relationships (because this is about me, after all, geeze), is that I've started turning my focus back to writing and the creative endeavors I used to crave so much. While work on my books has, to this point, not continued, the blogs have picked up speed, and I am very much on track to beat the 18 that I wrote back in 2015. 

By the end of March, I will have written 10 this year already (!!!), beating my results of the last 8 years. It feels great to actually want to write for myself again.

The other creative endeavor gets launched on March 27th, and there is a whole blog to write about that as well. Suffice it to say, it has been a really long time coming and a really huge amount of time spent figuring out what I wanted to do. Follow @restoring_sean on Instagram, or search restoring_sean on YouTube, and maybe subscribe to the channel? That's the only hint I'm dropping here on that! 

In a lot of ways, March is turning out to feel like a landslide is finally coming down the mountain I call my life. It's been there the whole time, stagnant, and over the last year, has shaken itself more and more loose. Now, a mere 12 days ahead of the big reveal of everything, I feel like it has taken on a life of its own and is just mowing down everything in its path. For better or worse. 

I honestly think about nothing else and it's driving me crazy, so... it'll be good to be free of it and be able to talk about it.

Sittin' in my kitchen a year later.

What living in Wisconsin all boils down to, in my humble opinion, is ease. 

I find it easy. 

I know where everything is, I rarely need my map; I live 14 minutes from my parents and 25 minutes from my sister and family. I live with one of my best friends, and several others are within 15 minutes of my house. The Estate sits on a quiet street in a community working very hard to update and upgrade itself. My job is good, my hair is good, if not crazy (natch), and really... life's just good. I could complain about several things, sure, but how else are ya gonna keep it interesting?

Ciao for now (c:

the february update: fourth edition

I think it's safe to say that this has been one of the oddest, if not THE oddest, February's I've ever had in the Midwest. For example, the snow is entirely melted outside, the sun is shining, and it is 60 degrees. And today's not the first time it's been this warm this month; it's been reaching this temperate a few times, and when it's not, it's been hanging around in the low 40s and mid-30s. Balmy, all things considered. I remember back in 2012, we had a week in March following a snowstorm that dumped like 13 inches on us, where it was in the 70s. I was laying out on a beach towel in a swimsuit at my parent's property, getting a tan. Also that year, because of the warmth, it jumpstarted the growing season for trees and such and ended up ruining crops for cherries in Door County because, as it is custom to doing, the weather slingshotted around and froze again not long after.

But I will enjoy this while it lasts. Birds chirping in the morning, leisurely walks through the dark and into the gym, and some Vitamin D to remind us that natural spring isn't far away.

I took advantage and started chopping my trees down.

The part I don't enjoy is how badly this makes me want to start working on outside projects. Some of them can get going (cutting down a couple trees and space planning for what's to come), but others (painting the house) need to wait. It's stressful enough, pricey enough, and hard enough to paint your house as is. It's worse if the paint freezes before it's had a chance to cure properly, and it ends up peeling off the siding. That would just about make me wanna die.

February, in large, was a quiet month for me. For the most part, I spent it acclimating to Andrew as my roommate, getting into a routine with the gym, and working on the downstairs full bath in the house. Outside of those things, I didn't spend too much time away from the house, seasonal depression still being a thing that I succumb to.

Andrew moving in meant that it was time I came through on my vow to join the gym. We found a great deal in town at a local facility, saving a good chunk of money by signing up as a duo (couple (though not a couple)) instead of a single plan. I guess the best part about the place is that it's directly across the river from my house, so it only takes 3 minutes (literally) to drive in the morning. We've each screwed around with the times of day to go but settled on 5am being the best as it's sparsely occupied, you can use the equipment you want to, and the gym doesn't smell bad yet.

Trust me, it's a thing.

I've been going 5 days a week, only taking this past Friday off because I was too worn out. The first week was tough on me, just getting back into lifting any kind of weight in a controlled manner and not, y'know... heaving doors up the stairs or painting walls while clutching a gallon container to your chest for hours at a time. But then it got more manageable, and then I downloaded an app to help guide me in the gym, and it got harder. Today was legs, and I'm already in an uncomfortable amount of pain from that. But it'll get better.

What has not gotten better about this little adventure is my weight. 

A year and a half ago, I was (falsely) diagnosed with Meniere's disease, an inner-ear condition where your body does not properly convert sodium into potassium and ends up storing fluid in your ear that causes vertigo. 

Basically. 

In reality, since you can't actually TEST someone for the disease but can only go off the symptoms, I've decided the symptoms were caused by TMJ (I grind my teeth at night, and my bite-guard had broken a couple months earlier) and stress. I was just purely and utterly fucking miserable working retail and living in Minnesota and going through heartbreak and all that stuff. 

So anyway, not Menieres. The thing is, they prescribed me a diuretic (a water pill) to help get rid of the sodium. At first, it was fabulous because I dropped a few pounds and felt terrific. 

Then I never got off of them because you have to wean yourself off or else risk severe health complications. Cut to now, when I AM getting off of them, and am gaining weight at a pretty stupid rate. I know your body goes through a sort of retaliation when you're getting off a diuretic, storing water weight in a panic setting that you can't turn off. And because I'm weaning off so slowly (after this week, I'm done), this weight issue has just been a pain in the ass.

It's easy for me to say, "Well, I'm gaining weight, BeCaUsE oF tHe WaTeR pIlLs," but who knows. It's a vicious cycle when you're eating well for a few weeks, largely avoiding sweets, working out daily for 45 minutes of lifting and an hour of cardio, and your weight continues to climb... so you then start eating poorly to make yourself feel better. Today, I got on the scale, and I am 10 pounds heavier than I was at the start of February when the gym started. No pun intended, but that was a tough pill to swallow. I know it'll get better because it has to; just for now, it's a bit demoralizing.

My arms look good, though.

(Author's update as this is published: 16 pounds gained. Sadness ensues.)

A good chunk of my time, as I said, has been spent working in the bathroom downstairs. I'd love to go into detail on that, but we've still got a month before I drop the blogs about everything I've done in the house over the last year. Suffice it to say, there have been some tears shed in this bathroom, and not even while taking a shower. This picture was either before or after said tears... I can't remember... as I leveled the floor with shims. 

Bathroom work

You'll have to tune in on March 27th for more house information. More surprises also await that day, so you'll want to hang out when the time comes.

For now, I'll sign off. I came down with the flu or Covid or a miserable cold from hell, but I think it's the flu. So in addition to being the size of a whale, with an eye issue that I'm now on antibiotics for in lieu of a potential surgery, I'm sick as fuck. Really just... winning at 2024.

So, what else happened in February? I winged it on a new queso recipe that I made from scratch, and it tasted like shit. Went to a Superbowl party, started a new venture in a legal sense (exciiiiiiting stuff!), and discovered I can make Corbonnara from scratch really well. I finalized my bathroom design, got a Costco membership, and refrained from chopping my hair off. Struggled to function with some work stuff but persevered, struggled to get up at 4:30am M-F but managed, and struggled to breathe deeply and calm myself down a few times but got through it. And in the end, we're all just trying to get through it.

Ciao for now (c:

the january update: fourth edition

Ya think December is busy and then WaTcH oUt, here comes January. Tits dancin', arms and legs akimbo, flailing and wailing as it so UNmiraculously marches its dreary ass through. 

I don't like the month. 

Do you? 

It's a bleak month where the holidays are over, the skies are cloudy, the days are short, and depending on where you live, it's cold. 10 days in, and we got our first significant snowstorm of the year (re: season). From that point, I decided the month's motto was gonna be "roll with it." Remember that.

My fancy Trixie Mattel hat I got for Christmas

I started January still getting over Covid, which wasn't super cool, but it was what it was. And with that came, y'know... the new resolution of trying to enjoy my life more. It is hard when you feel crummy, but again... it is what it is. There were other resolutions to start enacting as well, ones I don't necessarily write about every year (who cares if you want to lose weight? That's just life, not a special thing you should do because it's a new year). 

That being said, I wanted to lose weight.

Something I'm pretty proud of myself for was starting intermittent fasting, where I drank a gallon of water every day, stopped eating at 7pm, and didn't eat again until 9am. This didn't last long, but lemme explain why.

I'm an early riser; I'm typically up by 6am and working at my desk. Some days I'm up earlier than that; others, I might stay in bed an hour later. But I start the day with some coffee and I need either Oat milk or creamer in it, which is a no-no for the fasting. Part of me feels like it's for the placebo effect of just having a warm cup of something to drink in my hands, and less because of the caffeine, but it did get to a point where I was falling asleep at my desk at 8am because I just couldn't keep my eyes open. So I adjusted, the gallon of water continued, the "no eating" after 7pm continued, but I shifted the morning stuff. 

I think intermittent fasting can work great for some people; I'm just not one of them. But now I know at least! So that's worth, y'know... a stick of gum in the pocket or whatever you might say. It's also not a bad thing to stop eating at 7pm, which I've been strict about (apart from the occasional dinner with friends that runs later or something), and it keeps me from wanting to snack later.

The bulk of the month was pretty quiet in general, I took a lot of it to just sorta chill and enjoy my last couple weeks of living alone. I had a work trip to Arizona that I'd be leaving for on January 18th, and I didn't want to start any crazy house projects before that. So I was just vibin', fastin', and planning out the year ahead and all of the exciting things on the way.

The trip to Arizona was a good one; it's always nice to meet and connect with the people I work with (many of whom I've known a large part of my life and, as such, consider them extended family anyway). After a few days of work-related stuff, though, I stayed with Katie and her family. This is never a bad time, if you ask me because there are few places where I feel as welcome and as comfortable just being myself as I do when I'm there. 

This was also gonna be the brief rest I got before flying onward to Maine for the big event. But FIRST, I had to get to Maine. 

And Delta was reallllly on the struggle bus regarding my travels. 

I won't get too into it because I don't want to sound like a whiny bitch (even though sometimes I really am), but suffice it to say, I won't ever schedule flights at the end of the day again if I can help it.

Thrilled in a hotel.

I landed in Detroit at about 6 or something, and my flight to Portland was supposed to take off at 9pm. Well, it got canceled, whoops, and because it was due to the weather, airlines do nothing for you. So Andrew was awesome and got me a hotel room, and after a $37 Uber ride to go 6 miles, I got like two hours of sleep before rising at 3:30am to make sure I was on the shuttle at 4:30am to get to the airport by 5am to take off by 7am. 

But not to Portland, no.

Flying to Portland meant flying to Atlanta first, then taking a 10pm flight that would've meant arriving near midnight, and I just wasn't going to do that. I flew to Boston instead. Once in Boston, I took a BUS to get to Portland.

And though it all sucked and was a big inconvenience, I was actually really grateful for the experience because, for starters, this had never happened to me before. Also, I had never taken a charter bus on my own. Know what? That was a delightful experience that I would be very willing to do again. Comfy seats, quiet, everyone slept (most passengers were people I was supposed to fly with the night before), and it was only a couple of hour's worth of driving.

Andrew picked me up at the bus depot, which I keep chuckling about because of just... privileged existence, I guess; I never thought I'd need to be picked up at a bus depot. 

Yay, experiences!

We had a great day in Portland, his final day living in Maine, going for lunch and getting some beers at a couple different spots. Eventually, it was time to just "not," and we went back to his apartment for the evening. It's funny, I'm usually the one asking people to help me move, so to be on the other end of it, it's such a weird, displaced feeling to be in a space that's all packed up. We connected my laptop to his TV and watched Aquaman 2 (barf, what a dumb movie), and then went to bed.

In the am, the adventure started right away. Andrew's rental truck was not at the nearby Home Depot as he had thought, but it was an hour away. So we started driving through the sleet that was coming down, and by the time we got to the Home Depot where the truck was, it was full-on snowing. Then I drove his car back to Portland, and he drove the truck, and I tried not to crash in what wound up being just shy of two inches of snow. 

Fun start!

The dreaded 3rd Floor Walk-up

Once safely back in Portland, it was an hour of hiking up and down the narrowest stairwell ever to get the apartment emptied. To Andrew's credit, he was VERY ready for the movie; everything was tidy and packed, and he knew exactly how he wanted to load the (small) moving truck. 

But there was no escaping those stairs.

We hit the road around 11:30, not far beyond the planned time, and the snow had stopped by then. It was still misty and kind of raining, though, so the drive just wasn't "fun." And to be fair, neither of us was expecting a barrel of laughs because it's still a drive across the country in the ugliest month of the year (sorry, January fans (but also, who are you if that's true?)). Once we left Maine... then New Hampshire... then Massachusetts... we were into New York. And I've gotta say, even in a dead month where there's no snow around, and it's all brown, New York is a really pretty state.

Frozen streams

I took many pictures on the drive and looking back at them, they just look like blurry pictures from a car, but that's ok. It's not the point. I can look back at probably two hundred pictures in my phone taken from trips over the years that are totally crap and would never be worth posting or printing. 

But they take you back, right? That's what matters. 

Anyway, the shitty picture above was a common sight, and it was from the melt and freeze of streams coming off these cliffs; it was really cool to see. Just that pure white punctuating the rocks, talk about nifty.

We drove for what seemed like forever, mostly through fog and mist, on our way to Hamburg, New York, which is just south of Buffalo. I think we made it there by, like... 9:45, maybe? We got checked into the hotel and got to bed an hour or so later, but we didn't actually fall asleep until after 1am. Back up and at it at 3:30am, on the road by 4am. 

Drove through a brief stretch of Pennsylvania, then the purely riveting world of Ohio (luckily it was so early that we didn't have to deal with ANY traffic or many vehicles for hours). Then, it was on to the illustrious land of Indiana.

The weirdly nice Indiana rest stops.

The day seemed shorter than it was, mainly because the first five hours were dark, and then there was more fog, mist, and clouds. Andrew and I chatted on the phone a lot, I think the entire way through Chicago until 3 hours later when we got home because delirium was setting in, and we were beyond exhausted. We got back around 3pm that afternoon, went and had a lackluster dinner at Olive Garden (but it hit the spot), and then it was home.

It's weird to live together again, I won't lie, but not in any sort of bad way. It'll be an adjustment, but I think it would be an adjustment for me to live with anyone again. You get so used to doing things on your own all the time, and how you want things and when you want to do things and WHY you want to do things, that anything throwing that into question just gives you pause. And again... not in a bad way. Just a way to adjust to, and, uh, what was the month's motto? Oh yeah. 

Roll with it.

So what else happened in January? Work continued, as ever, on the house. I played all the way through all three Spider-Man games on the PS5 ::tips hat:: and cried harder at each game. Discovered I love sumo citrus, Cosmic Apples are the tits, and that I still know how to babysit on the fly. Started wearing my hair occasionally in a bun, decided my beard makes me look older (thanks a lot, white hair), and continued building those ever-elusive plans for the big March reveal. Surprise!

Ciao for now (c:

the december update: third edition

Author's note: this WAS written in December, and I'm posting it only two days after the month ended, so I AM getting better. I'm tired of always being pushed around by you!

    - Additional Note: I'm not pushed by literally anyone and I live inside my own fantasy world.

We begin with a tree.

December started like most others for me, with the Christmas tree having been cut down at the end of November and the ornaments being put on and added to a beefed-up, etc. 

This blog is off to a compelling start, yowza. 

I was actually in panic mode the first two weeks of the month, getting ready for three things: 1) Andrew coming on the 13th to stay for a couple weeks for the holiday, 2) the Christmas party I was hosting on the 22nd, and 3) hosting Christmas for my family on Christmas Eve.

In hindsight, I bit off more than I could chew, but when am I not doing that, really?

I'd love to show off photos of what I was doing to the house, but that has to wait until the big reveal in March. The house was a total disaster when the month started, with gallons of paint strewn about the countertops and tables, floors filthy, scraps of wood trim all over the kitchen, and debris from new Christmas decorations peppered throughout. On top of my work upstairs in the hallway, I wanted to refinish the stairwell as it was the big eye-sore in the dead center of the house, so that involved lots of time (re: frustration) to get it all buckled up nicely. There were a few mistakes made during the process, one being me thinking the stain was dry and then traipsing across it in my socks and pulling the color off in the process like a real asshole.

I did cry about it, rest assured.

By 7pm on the 13th though, when everything had been put away and the candy had filled bowls and new wall-flowers were plugged in and floors were scrubbed and counters wiped down and mirrors spot-checked, I had such a tremendous sense of relief over what I had achieved. I think it's safe to say 90% of the house's interior at that point was "done," with one room in particular being 100% done, and that being... ::drumroll:: ... Andrew's bedroom. 

So that's the big reveal here, that Andrew is moving in with me at the end of January. He's not loved living in Maine, I've not loved living alone, and I'm certainly not loving the cost of home renovations, so it's a win-win for both of us. I wanted to get his room (my former office upstairs) totally finished as a surprise to him, so that he could envision his things in it and not have me saying, "I'll get this done before you move in, and I'll finish that thing too!" It's a wrap from the baseboards to the ceiling, so I won't need to be in his space working on projects or making messes. 

Anyway, I went and picked him up from the airport that evening of the 13th, and then it was going to be two weeks of (essentially) relaxing as all of the hard work paid off.

Trail of Lights at the Green Bay Botanical Gardens

We tried to cram in a few Christmas-themed things while he was here, as the weather was so unseasonably warm, and there was literally no snow on the ground. We visited Green Bay for an evening of beers at one of the breweries (Cocoon Brewing in De Pere), and then went to the Green Bay Botanical Gardens for the trail of lights. It was a fun and easy night; we got some spiked hot chocolate from the food vendor there and caught up, looking at all the lights. We also had an "aging millennial" moment with a couple that offered to take our picture if we took there's, and none of us could figure out how to work the flash on our iPhones.

It's fun no longer being at the forefront of knowing technology 😅😅

As the party drew closer, I purchased more groceries than I'd ever bought for an event in my life. I didn't need half of them, but it is what it is and I won't complain. I'd rather have made too much food than too little. Despite all of the stress leading up to the event and fumbling my way through some of the things, it went off without a hitch. Everyone who RSVP'd came (about 25 people), a few additional people showed up, and it was perfect. 

Perfect.

Clockwise from top left, Caitlin, Jill, Tina, and Leah

The first hour of the party was mostly me giving tours of the house because most of the people there had never seen the Estate, or if they had, only saw it in the beginning. It was so fun to keep saying, "Yep, I replaced that," or "Yes, I painted that," or "Yes, that's new" to almost every single question. Because though the year flashed in a blur, and I've been nose-down for most of it, I have to realize the sheer amount of progress made here is pretty fucking astounding.

There were several moments through the night where I had to take a breath and sort of... for lack of a better term... calm my heart. Because it was full. Hearing the conversations going on in so many rooms of the house, many between people who had never met before, was a fantastic feeling and one that I've been chasing since purchasing my first house. I love to host and entertain, providing a happy, clean, and pretty place for people to congregate, and here it was. People showed up, which alone was enough to put me over the moon.

A couple days later, I hosted Christmas for my family on the Eve (my sister and her clan would be flying to New York for the holiday), which was also a perfect event. The food turned out great; everything was finished and ready to eat on time, the tunes were going all day, and it was awesome. It's funny how it all shakes out to be perfect, almost as if the universe knows you were busting your ass for months and months, and hey, maybe you deserve a break.

Or maybe not.

When everyone left, I sat in my living room chair and felt just wiped out. That is understandable, of course, with all things considered. But it progressed into a sore throat, and I woke up sick on Christmas morning. Andrew and I went to my parents for brunch but returned home at noon because I was so miserable. Surprise, it was Covid (who's fuckin' surprised by that anymore, really). So I spent the next six hours sleeping through my fevers, then went to bed early that evening.

Happy Birthday to me

The next day, my birthday, I was just a sweaty mess through the bulk of it. Andrew was great and was helping me with whatever I needed, and he went and bought balloons and cake to celebrate my birthday. Lemme tell ya, sitting at the kitchen island and blowing the candles out with sweat running down my back was just the icing on the proverbial cake of the year. Maybe it was a lesson in humility... that when it's all going your way, expect storms? I dunno. What I do know is that this round of Covid has very much kicked my ass. 

It wasn't what I wanted, wrapping up the holiday season this way. It was different from what I thought or certainly hoped would happen, obviously, but y'know what... when is it ever ALL that we want? When is the holiday precisely what we hoped it would be, or is the season as perfect as we wanted? It never is. The only true hope is that the holiday season is at least nearly that... or that maybe there were enough moments during the month that were genuinely perfect and warranted it being a great season. 

And that part definitely happened.

Does anyone else ever look at December as the "hit the pause button" month for your life? As in... you just stop doing anything and everything that progresses your life because you're so busy doing all the holiday things and such that by the end... it's not that you're dying to get all the decorations and shit down because you're sick of 'em; you're just ready to just get back to living your life? That rang more true for me this year than I think any other before it. And as the days wind down to New Year's Eve, I just feel ready to greet a new year and move on with life.

Looking back on this year, I realize I never really wrote about my trip to Australia in February. I only wrote a little about the house (for obvious reasons) and didn't work on my book... at all. But also, looking back, I realize how 2023 made me start seeing things a little differently in my life. Go ahead and burn the candles you've been storing "for when it's right"; now is the time. Use the bumper stickers that make you laugh, and put them on your laptop case. Drink the wine in the cupboard, donate the clothes you haven't worn in three years, and toss the giant bin of old towels you cart from house to house. 2023 has been a year of simplifying and enjoying the things around me, because you can't take 'em with you.

So, what else happened in December? I made a plethora of Christmas cookies for the first time ever, hosted a Christmas party for the first time ever, and finally perfected a homemade alfredo sauce. I started to feel confident in my job, broke my kitchen in, and finished installing all of the door and window frames in the house. I sought to create a bespoke Christmas season, and I succeeded admirably, and y'know what else? I'm damn good at what I do.

Ciao for now (c:

Oh, and merry belated Christmas.

a new resolution part xiii

Imagine my dismay just moments ago when I sat down to entirely write this blog out, and realized I have not come up with the resolution for 2024 like I thought I had. I spent time down like a month ago re-reading a new resolution part xii, and figured, "hey, might as well start the new blog, make a few notes, and then you can come back to it!" I made a few notes, sure, but sure as shit didn't make a resolution. So now here I am, wearing a baseball T and short-shorts with knee-high socks like a real winner and coming up with fresh material on the fly. You might think I'm a writer or something.

Anyway.

Welcome!

Welcome to a new year, where new beginnings and fresh starts await and the glory of an untainted 365 days lay before us in all their splendor. Unmarred by war and sadness and death and misery and bullshit politics and homophobia and racism and inequality and all of the other things that make the Earth at present what it is. For now, we stare ahead and think, "this year, I'll do _____, and everything will be perfect because of it." I mean, that's the goal, right? Blindly assuming that because of the clock striking midnight, it also strikes out all of the bad from the previous year and gives us a fresh slate?

That's what it is for me, anyway, and I have no problem admitting that. I wonder why I feel that way? Is it the mere fact that because the date changes on the Gregorian calendar to the next year, I feel as if the page has turned, and I get to start a new chapter? Pretty much.

Last year I was in such a panic when I wrote this blog because the absolute clusterfuck of 2022 was coming to an end and I still had so many things dangling in the air that needed to be resolved. I'd gone through several of those tasks already, putting them to bed and calmly breathing at the miracle of doing so, but a few remained. That being said, my resolution for 2023 was to "enjoy my choices and follow my bliss," because the choices were wide-reaching and ultimately life-changing.

I did achieve this resolution, matter of fact. 

I followed the joy of being single and no longer working retail through the new year of 2023 and right through this new year 2024 as well. While there have been moments peppered through 2023 where I did think "hm, would be nice to be in a relationship," those moments were fleeting. I guess for that part of the equation, I just don't feel like I have the time to commit to someone. Not fully, at least, but that's for another blog. As for retail? Never looked back once. 

But the other extensive "choice" I needed to follow my bliss on was selling my house/buying the Estate/subsequently moving back to Wisconsin. I'm pleased to report that everything (obviously) worked out the way it was supposed to, and I have also never once regretted this decision. So there, Mr (Mrs?) 2023, I followed my bliss through your often treacherous waters and emerged bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on the other side.

An oft-stated but seldom achieved goal in the last several years has been to write more, either books or blogs. The book side of things has fallen by the wayside (please note, house renovations occupy mental and physical/emotional/financial space), but the blogs? Well, including this one (because it's my blog and not yours), I wrote 9 of them in 2023. Not only does that match the 9 I wrote in 2017, but it also matches the 9 I wrote in 2016. I'm still 9 short of the 18 composed in 2015 (sorry for all the numbers here, damn), but I am bound and determined to beat that in 2024. It should be easy, considering I am back to writing monthly updates (Please note, the December is written but needed to be edited more, and it won't be posted until tomorrow, but I will NOT be yelled at for that, and yes I did count that as one of my 9 blogs from last year and if you want to change that you're gonna have to pry it from my cold dead fingers).

Turning my focus to 2024, it has been a bit harder for me to quantify what I want to do. On the surface, at least, it's harder. Part of that difficulty is because I'm just so tired all the time, and can be hard for me to think clearly, but with that, my dear reader, we immediately uncover and open up the 2024 resolution.

I'm tired because this year, since purchasing the house, it has been an almost non-stop race to get it done. Racing to the point of jeopardizing my health, wearing myself out, running myself ragged... whatever you want to call it. As mentioned before, house renovations take a toll and it's never what you think it will be. Am I physically drained? Yes, but that can be turned around somewhat quickly with some Oreos and sleep. But from an emotional standpoint... not to get too deep here... but from an emotional standpoint, that feeling of being drained isn't easy to recoup.

Keeping yourself contained to your house for months on end, working and working on making it better and better, well... the world continues to spin outside the home. doesn't it? And while yes, your living conditions might be fabulous, you've also let a lot slide elsewhere. That being said, the resolution for 2024?

Slow down.

I want to take the time this year to enjoy the fruits of my labor. To go and get a glass of wine on a random Thursday evening, to hit the farmers' market on some Saturdays, and maybe go to a new antique mall in the lazy summer afternoons. To host impromptu dinners and movie nights, to go to a friend's house on a Tuesday and just chat about nothing for a few hours. I want to swing by my parents and check out the progress on the barns or the garden, to putz around with my sister and see what's up. I want to stop and smell the roses, so to speak, and know that I am living the life I've always wanted to live.

That doesn't mean work on the house stops, after all, there are two bathrooms to complete and the entire outside to paint and re-do that yard on, but the exterior is a project that can involve multiple people. It can be a gardening and bar-b-que day a few times in the summer, a painting party with cocktails and music, or evenings around the bonfire just vibing.

The point is to do it, and to enjoy it, and to savor each and every moment with my eyes lifted from the ground.

In many ways, 2023 was a growth year for me, where I turned my focus inward and just worked on myself. What would make me happy or content? What would it take to get to where I want to go? I feel like I have many of those answers now, and the greatest part is that all of the back-breaking work INSIDE the house is essentially done. This means it won't hold the mental weight any longer that it did for so much of the year.

So now I'll go off and clean the house a bit, and then make some spaghetti carbonara for dinner, and then I'll take a shower and watch a movie and hit the sack. And then tomorrow? Well, my friends... tomorrow we begin.

Happy New Year, and ciao for now (c:

the november update: third edition

November is, has been, and always will be what I consider one of the three "brown" months (looking at you, January and February). Does anyone else ever feel that way? When I actually stop to think about it, I've always assigned colors to months. I don't know why. I also don't know why Sophia has taken little poops outside the litter box, VERY randomly and in various locations, for the last 6 years. 

But hey, who am I to figure life out?

November went by in such a blur, and I'm not entirely sure how because, in a typical year, this month drags on. Looking back at last year, I suppose I didn't notice because it was my first month out of retail (happy first anniversary to me, whoop!), and I was busy learning how to job at my new job. 

Even as I'm typing this out I am remembering why this November was such a blur, and that's because it was essentially, figuratively AND literally the month of decorating.

This island is almost 7 feet long

It started by putting Halloween away. Now lemme tell you, I love to decorate. I wouldn't have lasted 10 years at Pottery Barn if I DIDN'T love to decorate (be it for a specific season or not). But decorating a house 1,000 square feet bigger than both of your previous homes is an undertaking. Halloween, in particular, meant accumulating a bunch of stuff (Goodwill, craft paint, patience, and a little bit of skill are so great for that), and when the spooky season had wrapped, that 'bunch of stuff' had to be put away carefully and precisely. I love being organized (when I can and within reason), so this also sorta fed my soul in a weird way.

Then it was time for Christmas decorating because, yes, November 1st is go-time, and no, I don't care about Thanksgiving.

Fuckin' mess

The kitchen quickly devolved into this. 

My Christmas decor was spread across many locations in the garage, closets, and basement, so first, I had to gather it all together. Then I started to disperse. And then I started to shop. 

And shop and shop and shop. And buy new garland and new berry picks, and lights, and things and this and that and all the other. Some of my older decorations were tired and had to get tossed, and some needed to be re-painted and fixed up. THEN I got the StUpId idea in mid-November that, HEY, since I'll be hosting Christmas with my family and getting the house all pretty for that, I might as well host a huge party a few days before! 

So I quickly reached out to a few friends to finagle a date, confirmed it with them, and then realized: your house is not ready to host another party. 

To the casual observer, yes, maybe it is... but to me, the owner, it was not. For many of the people coming, it would be their first time experiencing the Estate, and I wanted it to be a smashing success. So that night (it was a Friday), quite literally, I feverishly began to work on the house.

I stayed up til 2am cutting in the trim for the new kitchen color (what you see above is when it was white, which I didn't like from day one, and I'd been sitting on the new paint for a month or two), then the next day I was up from 7am-2am, working on the kitchen and removing all of the windows in the house from their casings. This way, I could paint them black and get away from the sun-dried and faded wood from 1983 they were. Then the next night, it was a 1am bedtime.

And onward.

Touching up my office downstairs and installing the baseboards and trim. Moving my OLD office from upstairs and setting it up in the new space, styling and decorating it as I went.

And still it went on.

Installing all of the trim upstairs (apart from two rooms) meant door frames, window frames, and baseboards. Finishing the windows, painting the upstairs hall, patching holes and moving the mounts for curtain rods so they made more sense and getting new drapes, and, of course, decorating.

And yeah, still, it kept going on.

Finish painting the trim in the living room and then stain the stairwell, also HEY it's time to get a Christmas tree! Oh, by the way, you don't have enough stuff for the tree! Better run out and get that. Whoops, outta paint now, better go get more of that. Dang, another trip to Menards at the end of a long work day, then get so distracted driving home that you brake for a red light a FULL CITY BLOCK before you're at the intersection.

To say I started losing my mind a little bit in November is an understatement, but historically, that's just what I do to myself. No one made me do this; most people probably won't even notice the things I've been doing and working on (with a ton of help from my dad cutting all of the trim down for me and delivering it so I could install it). It was a mountain of work, and it's a constant rat race, and it sucks. But in the end, you're left with just... this beautiful environment. As I finish each room, it will be styled the way it always should have been, with the furniture and decor in the right spots, the lighting on point, and the holiday pieces primed and ready. It's an environment that I can't wait to show off to my friends and family, knowing that I really don't have much left to do to the house once December rolls along.

Inside, at least. Outside is another story.

And I know you want pictures, and I'm sorry to say I won't be sharing any right now. And if I DON'T get the stupid Instagram account (@restoring_sean) up and running before March 23rd, look forward to a series of blogs where I show off everything I did in a year. And trust me when I say that it was a-goddamn-lot.

Since right now we're reminiscing on November of 2023, however, I'd also like to mention in this blog a very special anniversary. The 25th anniversary, to be precise.

At camp 'Trees for Tomorrow' in October 1999

These two dorks began their friendship back in November 1998. I was dating a girl (gay gasp) named Kelli, and Katie was Kelli's best friend. I think within a couple months, we had sorta... I don't want to say PUSHED Kelli out of the way, but there was a draw between Katie and me that we both somehow just understood and circumvented the party-in-between. When Kelli and I broke up that spring (after I had my first kiss with her, and no, it wasn't a match (also don't forget, I'm super gay)), we just kept hanging out. 

And apart from an overly long span in high school where I was a total shit to her, we've been best friends ever since.

8th Grade Graduation in 2000

Time is funny to look back on in some instances, and this is one of them. 25 years ago when I was 12 years old, meeting this person for the first time as she stood in the doorway of my art class and waved because HER best friend told her to, I never could've imagined what our journey would entail. Moves across the country and marriage and broken hearts and kids (three of 'em, five if you include my own) and jobs and medical issues and deaths and life. 

Tears. 

Laughs. 

Screams of joy and fright, the two often not mutually exclusive to one another. 

Suddenly you're left with this:

August 2023

This summer, Katie returned to Wisconsin to help my family and me as we threw a surprise 50th-anniversary party for my parents. One of the activities we'd set up was a photo shoot of the entire clan, photographed by my friend Caitlin (check her work out here). Since I'm the lone wolf of the Parker family, and everyone else got to have their individual sessions with their respective families, Caitlin offered to photograph Katie and me.

We're not married, but as we've affirmed several times over the last 25 years, we are soulmates. And she is unequivocally the greatest love of my life so far. I know she wouldn't want me to say I am indebted to her and her kindness and generosity and love... but I am.

And this is how I always want to remember us.

August 2023

The person I am most comfortable around. The person I laugh with more than anyone else, the person I can sit in silence with or just fuck around and find out with. My sounding board and my moral compass, my confidant and my inspiration. We were going to take a trip this fall to commemorate our 25th Friendversary, but life got in the way (and money (aka mine going into this house)), but it'll happen in the new year. It'll be a delayed trip but a fantastic trip, and I'm sure I'll be screaming all about it once it has happened. And that's all I've got to say about that <3 

So what else happened in November?

Spent the month STILL dealing with the stye in my left eye; they're just the worst things. Installed a new garage door opener with my brother-in-law, finished burning the scrap wood from around the house (just kidding, I added more since then), and did some electrical work that I was pretty impressed with if I do say so myself. Finished board-and-batten in the lower half of my stairwell, organized the ARMY OF CANDLES that I apparently own, and got to drive to my OWN home after Thanksgiving dinner with my family for the first time in 8 years. Also made a maple oatmeal pie for Thanksgiving, and it was kinda good, but it also kinda sucked. Oh, life!

Ciao for now (c: