I guess this means I DON'T get an HGTV show. Or Food Network for that matter.

Before we moved into this place, we had a 900 square foot condo in a high rise.

Though a lot of people stopped by before their drunken night out on the town, we didn't get too many out of town guests that crashed for a few days.

I longed to host. I longed to be the cute little wifey that made yummy dinners and refilled all the drinks while playing fun music in the background then showing them to this perfectly made up guest room that smelled like lavender and pretty stuff. Geoff even bought me a cute apron so my dresses didn't get splattered with food juice while making gourmet meals for everyone.

Basically, my mind turned into a wannabe mother effin' Martha Stewart.

I USED TO BE COOL!

I USED TO BE HIP!

We moved into the house we are currently in and we have plenty of room for guests. We have a three bedroom basement with a full bathroom that showers guests with all sorts of square footage and privacy. Our house says, "HEY, come stay here, lay your bootey on my mattress and get some rum down that pretty little throat of yours!"

How nice is it to have guest stay the night and not freak out that they might of heard you fart in the middle of the night because they are sleeping on the floor right next to you.

Not that I fart or anything because Martha Stewart for sure doesn't, right?

We fixed up the guest bathroom, put new beds in the rooms, (Remember the nasty couch and bed? Yeah I won that fight. Can I get what-what?) and have had overnight guests just about every weekend.

I LOVE it but my Martha facade is peeling.

Geoff's dad showed up last week and the guest bed wasn't made, the sheets were still being dried. I mean, how dare I let them see that room without the throw pillows looking perfect let alone that I wasn't perfect.

They went for a hike on a trail right down the street from our house. We promised they could see just about everything but their most feared animal/reptile.

The snake.

We told them they don't survive this high. We've never seen one.

They ran back 20 minutes later; they saw a snake.

Geoff and his dad chapped wood all day leaving the door open.

A mouse made his way in.

I drove to Denver and went for a long run.

Drove back and flat tire. Didn't even know it. Seriously that car drove AWESOME on only 3 full tires. (Geoff wasn't too happy.)

Took Sawyer on the swing that hangs under our deck. Our backs were to the yard watching Geoff and Grandpa chop more wood. On our fifth swing, on our way BACK the swing broke and sent us flipping backwards down a rocky hill.

We were both bruised up, I almost tore off a finger nail and I think the bones in my hand were bruised because even the pressure of the keyboard under my fingers to type hurt.

I kept asking Geoff and his dad to describe the fall because in my head it looks HILARIOUS. They refuse to re-live it and said it looked terrifying.

Then the quad got a flat.

Geoff nicked himself with the chain saw.

We were ALL rockin' bandaids.

We made yummy steak on the BBQ for the last dinner. It started pouring so Geoff pulled the BBQ a little closer to the house. Instantly the house sucked up all the smoke. Every alarm in the house was blaring and pulling the alarms OFF the wall wouldn't make them stop.

Frazzled, we transferred the streaks from the BBQ to a plate and then DROPPED IT ALL ON THE FLOOR!

We spent our last night eating steak that made sweet love to the floor in a smoke filled dining room with siren alarms blaring.

I know, you guys TOTALLY want to come over don't you?!

Basically, I hung up my apron.



Side note: I know most of you know Jewels from A Blonde Walked into a Blog, she is like WAY popular. She has been in and out of the hospital and could use some lovin' kind words. Stop by and say HI and GET BETTER so she doesn't have to eat hospital food, that stuff SUCKS!

Love you guys and promise to be back soon with a post about how cool I am... or was. Or AM damn it!