I have a confession to make. I watch The Real Housewives of Just About Everywhere (except Potomac, because honestly, I have no idea where that is…and Dallas, because I can’t start any new series during baseball season). I realized I needed to come clean with this information after a conversation with Baltimore Orioles’ manager Buck Showalter last week. Yes, you read that right. The topic came up (yes, you read that right), and I denied ever watching the show.
Now instead of searching for the answer as to why I lied to Buck about watching the Real Housewives (which is a whole other blog post), I instead went digging deep within myself as to why I actually choose to spend my spare time watching such a useless show. It didn’t take me long to figure it out.
First off, it’s useless. It’s pointless. There is no thinking involved. The storylines are so ridiculous they are comical. After a long day of work, running around and being “mommied” to death by my kids, I welcome such useless, pointless, thoughtless things. I wish I could say I spent that time studying up on the policies and platforms of our presidential candidates. It is, after all, an election year. But let’s be real.
Perhaps more importantly, the Real Housewives make me feel like the most normal human being to ever walk this planet (or at least one of them). I’ve never flipped any tables or pulled out anyone’s weave, although it has crossed my mind a time or two ;). Don’t get me wrong—I’ve had more than my fair share of regretful, humiliating moments, I’ve just never invited television cameras to come along and document them (unless you count those slip ups during commercial breaks…see my first blog post for clarification).
My point is this—right or wrong (and I’m pretty sure it’s wrong)—I use these train wrecks to make myself feel a little less train wreck-y. Which brings me to the point of this blog. If you think you are a Type A, OCD-having, neurotic mess, let me return the favor, complete with pictures.
I am so Type A that I go room to room after the housekeeper leaves to put all of the shutters at the exact same angle and return all tabletop decor to it’s proper location.
I am so OCD that I have 8 email accounts, and I don’t go to sleep before that little red circle above the email icon is gone. In fact, I kind of hyperventilate when someone’s red circle has a number with a comma in it. I mean, what if there is something really important in one of those unread emails??? Who hasn’t read THOUSANDS of emails??? It stresses me out!!!
I am so neurotic that all of my husband’s shirts have to be facing the same direction (we share a closet)…and all must be on the thin, white, wire hangers. Except for the flannel shirts. Those are heavy and require a brown cardboard hanger. When the dry cleaning comes in, all the button downs are facing the wrong direction, so I fix them. Turn the hanger around and hang in accordance to color. And all is right with the world (or at least in my closet).
But I can use my Type A-ness for good, too. And this is where I might be able to help the “normal” person. At the beginning of each month, I download all the pictures from my camera and my iPhone to my computer, then upload them to a Shutterfly gallery and send them out to immediate family members. It’s a good way to make sure none of those precious photos disappear and keep loved ones in the loop!
Now cue the OCD. I order every picture that I upload and put them in chronological order in a photo album labeled by year. I want my kids to be able to look through photo albums the way I did as a kid…and I’m nuts 😉
Anyway, there is some normal in my crazy, so hopefully you can take something from this post. If not, there’s always the random thought and the recipe!
If you’re a woman and you want to change your life in a very superficial way, get eyelash extensions. I got my first set almost five years ago, and I’ve never looked back. They’re not cheap, and it’s a total luxury, but I would give up a lot of other things before I’d give up my lashes. I don’t look like I just woke up when I don’t have makeup on, and I don’t have to spend 10 minutes applying mascara when I do wear makeup. They make me feel girlie, and I’m not very girlie. Don’t judge.
Courtesy of my sister, Sarah. I don’t have a picture of the finished product, but I do have a picture of the text message exchange between the two of us about the recipe. Listen people, I never claimed to be Martha Stewart. #blessmyheart
Roasted Brussels Sprouts
-2-3 dozen Brussels sprouts
Cut Brussels sprouts in half (stems off). Drizzle with olive oil, salt, pepper. Roast at 425 degrees for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Mix 1 tablespoon olive oil, 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar, 1 teaspoon honey. Drizzle over roasted Brussels sprouts and serve!