Today's Happy Thought.

'Cause who couldn't use a happy thought today?

California, A Wedding, And Some Stoked Little Girls.

Since I'm still very much so in the midst of California-vacationin', here's a sneak peek of the awesomeness that has been this week. For starters, I attended a wicked beautiful wedding of some college pals. The venue was on a gorgeous Southern California bluff overlooking the ocean where I kinda want to have my next wedding. (Take notes, Peej. If you're lucky, it'll be to you.) 

There was dancing (led largely by my three year-old). There was fabulousness with friends. And, if you were a certain attendee, there were naps.

Um, you said ALL the single ladies, right?

Nora knows some nice people.

The beautiful bride and groom, a beaming friend, and the love between a girl and her cupcake.

I LOVE WEDDINGS.

Y'all, dance like this.

Weddings are simply exhausting.

Happy wedding, Wilder and Barb. Even happier marriage. (And lots n' lots of naps.) 

Mini Kitchen Makeover, Part 3, AKA P.J. Thinks The Backsplash Looks FINE.

Apologies for the utter lateitude of this post: I was busy feeling every single minute of the four hour and thirty-five minute flight to LAX next to the totally awake and needing to acknowledge/touch/drink everything Susannah. (Interesting sidenote: right before the descent, she asked to sit with P.J. so I swapped daughters. And Suzy fell asleep as the plane touched down onto the tarmac. GOOD FOR YOU, P.J.)

But back to the kitchen. It’s done! [Ish!]

Over the past few weeks- see here and here- we've removed the janky countertops. Stained and refinished the warped cabinets. And my job (for the past week and a half) has been to mortar and tile and grout and re-tile and re-grout and super glue my finger to my thumb.

We chose a gorgeous glass mosaic tile because a) I have an unfortunate love of aesthetic and b) and over-inflated sense of ability.

Had I but known how incredibly sag-happy all of those miniature tiles would get on an oddly mortared wall (not to mention how incredibly uneven our cabinets/[walls/home] have the tendency to be), I would've just spray painted the whole thing magenta.

Except that spray paint is illegal in the city proper of Chicago. 

Gosh, I look competent. Hour One.

[Picture deleted due to Wall Rage, Day Four.]

[Picture deleted due to Ugly Cry, Day Nine.]

Ohmigosh, it's a finished kitchen. Easy!

You can't even see the blood stains and puddles o' tears and that place where I punched a hole in the wall! 

Who wants to come over and Not Use My Kitchen For Food Prep?!

So yes, "new" kitchen at one seventh of the price. (Unless you factor in usage of your spouse's thumbs into the overall cost. Which P.J. apparently doesn't.) And I'm decently happy with how a large part of my home looks. (Or at least I will once I'm rested/re-grow the skin on my hand.) 

Except...

Have you seen my "master" bathroom? I think it needs some attention, don't you? 

My Dad Doesn't Embarrass Easily.

Hangin' with da ladies.

Hey Dad,

Thanks for making us feel like we were exactly where you wanted to be on a Saturday night. (I mean, I know it's true, but still. We could get a little trying. Kate especially.)

Thanks for taking me to the drugstore after I got my first period and for acting so cool about the whole thing. I'm sure that's where you wanted to be on a Saturday night.

Thanks for not leaving me at Edaville Railroad that one time when I pitched the mother of all tantrums.

Ditto for that wedding where I got into the bowl of grapes and subsequently needed to be dealt with.

Thanks for always answering your phone at work, even when you know I'm calling to cry about grout or have a suspicious question about power tools.

Thanks for reading this during your 8th round of chemo and rolling your eyes at me at this very moment.

And thanks for agreeing to get better super soon. Because we have lots more adventures ahead of us.

And there are so many places from which I have yet to be carried out kicking and screaming.