First of all, let me just get this out in the open. I should not be allowed to watch true crime shows when I decide to argue with the reporter for saying something completely stupid, or mind numbingly obvious, which is always. The reporter will undoubtedly, always say something like, "and they tried *insert name here* for murder because they believed he was a killer," and I will always yell, "NO SHIT, LADY! Thank you for cluing me in to the obvious!" It's at that moment that I know I am not but a delicate little flower, and there's many reasons why I don't have a boyfriend. I'm okay with this.
Second, dogs will always, always run over to you while you're cleaning, dirt and mud abound, look up at you, let you know they realize you're cleaning but are going to step through what you've just cleaned with no mercy whatsoever, and then do it before your brain has a chance to catch up to what they just said in the language of puppy dog. Cats won't warn you. They'll just sneak up on you when you surely don't notice them, and then run right through what you've cleaned and give you the tail, which is their version of the finger. And they'll think they're awesome for doing it. I'm onto you, kitties, but you'll still win!
Now, if you've hung out on this blog long enough, you'll know that here at the RubyRedHearts household, we like to name deficient household products. For example, we have a curtain that we bought, washed, and it shrunk. It was the only one out of four curtains that did that, but it was fine because they were floor length, and the one window had a cedar chest under it, so we'd just stick it back there and no one would know. Then it occurred to us that we'd have no way to know which is the short one until we hung it up, unless it marked it somehow. I asked my mom what she wanted me to mark on it I can't remember if an Aflac commercial was involved, or she just happened to say Aflac, but Aflac is what came out of her mouth. Aflac is what I marked on the tag of the curtain. Aflac is now that curtain's name.
So when I got brand new curtains for my room, since my bed was crushing the heck out of my honeycomb curtains every time I adjusted it, I decided I would carry on this tradition if necessary. Unfortunately, it was necessary. But let me start at the beginning and take you through the curtain saga. Yes, Squirrel Monkeys, I have a saga for everything. As is my life.
The saga starts when I knew exactly which curtains I wanted, then I found out they went up in price by almost double and I would have to sell an arm, leg and both kidneys just to afford them, so they were out. Only, I couldn't find other ones that I liked, and it was super ridiculously simple what I wanted. I wanted curtains that filtered out light and were chocolate brown. This is not hard, right? Yes, yes it was, because only one company sold them, and that was the arm, leg and two kidney company. I tried several stores, still no luck.
A week and a half ago we were at Wal-Mart. Our epic search for water softener took us to the lawn and garden section. Look, it's a Wal-Mart in Pennsylvania. It makes sense for it to be out there. To who, I don't know, but to someone it makes sense. I mean, it wasn't out there; it was nowhere in the store, but that's another story. While we were out in lawn and garden looking for water softener, we happened to find the clearance section. This apparently made sense to someone, too. We don't ask, because, again, this is Wal-Mart in Pennsylvania. You don't get any more collective fail than that.
While in the lawn and garden clearance section, which featured Christmas stuff, games, and home decor, we found the holy grail of where curtains go to pass away. Squirrel Monkeys, there were literally hundreds of curtains back there on clearance. There were greens and grays and they all filtered light and only cost money; no limbs, no organs. And then I saw them...the brown ones, the ones that were the love of my life. I greedily picked up the ones that hadn't been opened, cackled louder than a repressed psycho-maniac whose insurance stopped paying for their meds, and took them home with me.
Rewind to today. It took me until now to get my splitting head under control enough to take down the old curtain rods, measure so these were in the right place since they're floor length and the others weren't, put up the new hardware, fill the holes where the old ones were and repaint, wash the new curtains, iron them and put them up. I'm exhausted just thinking about it. It was more of a pain in the butt than it sounded. But it was all worth it to have curtains that I couldn't murder by simply adjusting my bed, and that matched this lamp, which I'm fully convinced was handcrafted by angels from heaven above.
I would totally cheat on my boyfriend and have a love affair with this lamp, non sexually, of course. That would just be weird. Luckily, I do not have a boyfriend, so no emotional cheating will occur. This is the perfect lamp. And if the first picture wasn't enough proof, when you turn it on it gets this deep, dark violet hue to it. And violet looks gorgeous with silver. See?
I know I've built these delicious little curtains up, so I shall present them to you now. Just a few words about this first. They're the brown ones, obviously, if I didn't make that clear before. The red ones I made. I know you're jealous because they have fireflies and are awesome. (This may or may not be true. I mean the you being jealous part, not the part that they're red with fireflies and are awesome.) Two, I know I have a lot of shit in my room. This is because no one has bought my furniture yet. Once someone buys my furniture and I can get stuff that actually fits in my room, every free square inch of wall space will no longer be filled with stuff. Now that we've got an understanding, I present you my new curtains without further ado.
TA DA! And you immediately know this is going to go wrong somewhere.
As I mentioned, I bought the previously unopened set of curtains, so if you can explain this to me, please do.
I think some Pennsylvania residents have been taking Twilight a little too seriously. And the thing is, because the holes were so small, and I had already washed them, ironed them, and waited a week and a half to put them up, I just wasn't about to go taking them back. Not only could they very well be out of them since they were on clearance, but I would be left with half of a window with no curtain since I previously had blinds and took down the hardware for it. It would be very light in my room at night without the curtains...because the neighbors like to shine their lights into my room and we have a street light in our yard, because it's Pennsylvania and that makes sense to someone. I was pretty much stuck with the holes. So I got out my thread and needle and ended up with this.
Not so bad, right? You can barely tell unless you really look, and I'm also able to hide it behind some furniture since they're floor length and the holes are very small. However, I didn't want to have to search the curtains for these very small holes every single time I took them down to wash them, so I decided to stick with our pattern of naming things that were somewhat deficient and got my pen out. I think I came up with the perfect name, don't you?
Bella Swan is Lunch. Because the bites look like someone was a little too into Twilight. Get it? Get it? Yeah, I'm horrible, I know.
Because it's my life, Bella Swan is Lunch wasn't the only curtain with a problem. As I hung one of my other ones, I realized it had shrunk about an inch in the wash, much like Aflac, even though none of the other ones had. Obviously, this made it look topsy turvy, humpty dumpty, drunken stupor ridiculous. It was fine because I could just put it on the window where my bed was and no one would ever know. However, I have to name it, naturally. But you probably already knew that was coming. I just didn't want to hang it up after washing it and see this...
and then have to take it back down and put it elsewhere. So what did I name it, you ask? I'm sure I'm going to have to explain the hell out of this one with nine apologies, but it's fine. This curtain's name is officially...
Ashley Seaver. If you're not a Criminal Minds geek, you're not going to get that name. If you are, you're probably thinking one of two things. One: Ya! Two: You bitch. But it's probably the first one. So let me explain.
This curtain still does its' job, although it is slightly deficient at it and a little short on the requirements. But it's still pretty. Which is Ashley Seaver, deficient on the credentials it takes to be an FBI agent, so she kind of half ass does it, but she's pretty. And seriously, it's nothing against Rachel Nichols, who plays her. I think Rachel is adorable. I just don't like the character, and now the character and my curtain are besties.
Next thing you know it, I'll be naming the non deficient household items, too. It's a wonder I haven't already.
SURPRISE KITTY!
That's all I have to say for this blog. I bet you didn't expect a Play kitty at the end. I bring the random.
Second, dogs will always, always run over to you while you're cleaning, dirt and mud abound, look up at you, let you know they realize you're cleaning but are going to step through what you've just cleaned with no mercy whatsoever, and then do it before your brain has a chance to catch up to what they just said in the language of puppy dog. Cats won't warn you. They'll just sneak up on you when you surely don't notice them, and then run right through what you've cleaned and give you the tail, which is their version of the finger. And they'll think they're awesome for doing it. I'm onto you, kitties, but you'll still win!
Now, if you've hung out on this blog long enough, you'll know that here at the RubyRedHearts household, we like to name deficient household products. For example, we have a curtain that we bought, washed, and it shrunk. It was the only one out of four curtains that did that, but it was fine because they were floor length, and the one window had a cedar chest under it, so we'd just stick it back there and no one would know. Then it occurred to us that we'd have no way to know which is the short one until we hung it up, unless it marked it somehow. I asked my mom what she wanted me to mark on it I can't remember if an Aflac commercial was involved, or she just happened to say Aflac, but Aflac is what came out of her mouth. Aflac is what I marked on the tag of the curtain. Aflac is now that curtain's name.
So when I got brand new curtains for my room, since my bed was crushing the heck out of my honeycomb curtains every time I adjusted it, I decided I would carry on this tradition if necessary. Unfortunately, it was necessary. But let me start at the beginning and take you through the curtain saga. Yes, Squirrel Monkeys, I have a saga for everything. As is my life.
The saga starts when I knew exactly which curtains I wanted, then I found out they went up in price by almost double and I would have to sell an arm, leg and both kidneys just to afford them, so they were out. Only, I couldn't find other ones that I liked, and it was super ridiculously simple what I wanted. I wanted curtains that filtered out light and were chocolate brown. This is not hard, right? Yes, yes it was, because only one company sold them, and that was the arm, leg and two kidney company. I tried several stores, still no luck.
A week and a half ago we were at Wal-Mart. Our epic search for water softener took us to the lawn and garden section. Look, it's a Wal-Mart in Pennsylvania. It makes sense for it to be out there. To who, I don't know, but to someone it makes sense. I mean, it wasn't out there; it was nowhere in the store, but that's another story. While we were out in lawn and garden looking for water softener, we happened to find the clearance section. This apparently made sense to someone, too. We don't ask, because, again, this is Wal-Mart in Pennsylvania. You don't get any more collective fail than that.
While in the lawn and garden clearance section, which featured Christmas stuff, games, and home decor, we found the holy grail of where curtains go to pass away. Squirrel Monkeys, there were literally hundreds of curtains back there on clearance. There were greens and grays and they all filtered light and only cost money; no limbs, no organs. And then I saw them...the brown ones, the ones that were the love of my life. I greedily picked up the ones that hadn't been opened, cackled louder than a repressed psycho-maniac whose insurance stopped paying for their meds, and took them home with me.
Rewind to today. It took me until now to get my splitting head under control enough to take down the old curtain rods, measure so these were in the right place since they're floor length and the others weren't, put up the new hardware, fill the holes where the old ones were and repaint, wash the new curtains, iron them and put them up. I'm exhausted just thinking about it. It was more of a pain in the butt than it sounded. But it was all worth it to have curtains that I couldn't murder by simply adjusting my bed, and that matched this lamp, which I'm fully convinced was handcrafted by angels from heaven above.
I would totally cheat on my boyfriend and have a love affair with this lamp, non sexually, of course. That would just be weird. Luckily, I do not have a boyfriend, so no emotional cheating will occur. This is the perfect lamp. And if the first picture wasn't enough proof, when you turn it on it gets this deep, dark violet hue to it. And violet looks gorgeous with silver. See?
I know I've built these delicious little curtains up, so I shall present them to you now. Just a few words about this first. They're the brown ones, obviously, if I didn't make that clear before. The red ones I made. I know you're jealous because they have fireflies and are awesome. (This may or may not be true. I mean the you being jealous part, not the part that they're red with fireflies and are awesome.) Two, I know I have a lot of shit in my room. This is because no one has bought my furniture yet. Once someone buys my furniture and I can get stuff that actually fits in my room, every free square inch of wall space will no longer be filled with stuff. Now that we've got an understanding, I present you my new curtains without further ado. 
TA DA! And you immediately know this is going to go wrong somewhere.As I mentioned, I bought the previously unopened set of curtains, so if you can explain this to me, please do.
I think some Pennsylvania residents have been taking Twilight a little too seriously. And the thing is, because the holes were so small, and I had already washed them, ironed them, and waited a week and a half to put them up, I just wasn't about to go taking them back. Not only could they very well be out of them since they were on clearance, but I would be left with half of a window with no curtain since I previously had blinds and took down the hardware for it. It would be very light in my room at night without the curtains...because the neighbors like to shine their lights into my room and we have a street light in our yard, because it's Pennsylvania and that makes sense to someone. I was pretty much stuck with the holes. So I got out my thread and needle and ended up with this.
Not so bad, right? You can barely tell unless you really look, and I'm also able to hide it behind some furniture since they're floor length and the holes are very small. However, I didn't want to have to search the curtains for these very small holes every single time I took them down to wash them, so I decided to stick with our pattern of naming things that were somewhat deficient and got my pen out. I think I came up with the perfect name, don't you?
Bella Swan is Lunch. Because the bites look like someone was a little too into Twilight. Get it? Get it? Yeah, I'm horrible, I know.Because it's my life, Bella Swan is Lunch wasn't the only curtain with a problem. As I hung one of my other ones, I realized it had shrunk about an inch in the wash, much like Aflac, even though none of the other ones had. Obviously, this made it look topsy turvy, humpty dumpty, drunken stupor ridiculous. It was fine because I could just put it on the window where my bed was and no one would ever know. However, I have to name it, naturally. But you probably already knew that was coming. I just didn't want to hang it up after washing it and see this...
and then have to take it back down and put it elsewhere. So what did I name it, you ask? I'm sure I'm going to have to explain the hell out of this one with nine apologies, but it's fine. This curtain's name is officially...
Ashley Seaver. If you're not a Criminal Minds geek, you're not going to get that name. If you are, you're probably thinking one of two things. One: Ya! Two: You bitch. But it's probably the first one. So let me explain.This curtain still does its' job, although it is slightly deficient at it and a little short on the requirements. But it's still pretty. Which is Ashley Seaver, deficient on the credentials it takes to be an FBI agent, so she kind of half ass does it, but she's pretty. And seriously, it's nothing against Rachel Nichols, who plays her. I think Rachel is adorable. I just don't like the character, and now the character and my curtain are besties.
Next thing you know it, I'll be naming the non deficient household items, too. It's a wonder I haven't already.
SURPRISE KITTY!
That's all I have to say for this blog. I bet you didn't expect a Play kitty at the end. I bring the random.
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