A list of things I’d like to get done in the foreseeable future:

* Decorate my daughter’s room - which is going to include a total overhaul, right down to a new bed

* Paint and decorate my living room

* And dining room. And kitchen. And hallway. And front “formal living room”.

*And also my bedroom, bathroom, and the guest bedroom.

*Install a bar in the Great Room

*Make my husband mount the monstrous TV on the OTHER wall in the living room.

*Add tile to the back splash in the kitchen

*Add pendulum and task lighting to the kitchen. Which will probably help my guacamole making.

*Learn how to make guacamole. *sigh*

*Figure out what to do to the color of my hair that will make it pretty, and mask my sad, sad, dishwater roots.

*Start working out again. *sigh*

*Quit smoking

*Wax my damn eyebrows

*And possibly cut my hair

*Redo my blog. Major. Have so many awesome ideas.

Things I find myself doing instead that cause me to not complete a single thing on prior list:

*Reading other people’s blogs

*Watching TV

*Take kids to daycare/school, go to work, work, pick up kids, dinner, baths, bed. Rinse. Repeat.

I am no fool. Obviously, something from list two is going to have to get axed if list one is ever going to happen.

Clearly, those little bastards need to become more independent.

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As you may recall, I have somewhat of a Five Year Plan that includes decorating, weight loss, major shoe acquisition and World Domination.

I have come to refer to the first 20 some years I lived in Iowa as Phase 1 of the plan. Now that the droids are in place and ready for activation I am confident I have left my mark in the Midwest, it’s time to move on to Phase 2. Or, as you may call it, Florida.

Headquarters have been established and it is time to begin surveying the landscape, so to speak. The best way to dominate an opponent is, of course, to understand it.

Here is what I’ve learned so far about Florida:

Accents - I am going to have to become more proficient in understanding the language here. Or rather, the languages. Or, more specifically, the multitude of ways in which several languages can be bastardized.

So far, I have identified the native Head Injury dialect. This is, apparently, what happens to New Yorkers who move to Florida. I had heard a New York accent many times before moving here, but never quite like this. It is a mix all it’s own of New York and Florida that comes together to form a totally new way of speaking that sounds as if the speaker has a heavy tongue and a long history in a boxing ring.

I first encountered it in my electrician. I must admit, I was alarmed at first at the idea of this man fiddling with electrical outlets - would my home owner’s insurance cover him sticking his fingers in the light sockets?! However, it wasn’t long before I realized that the slurring and.. um… whatever the fuck else it was he was doing with the English language… was not a sign of his abilities or intelligence but merely my first encounter with the HIA (or Head Injury Accent as I refer to it within the security of HQ).

I-4 Traffic - this is not normal Big City Driving. If you tried to drive the speed limit on a Chicago Freeway you would be run off the road or pulled over by the authorities for being a danger on the road. Here? Not only do many people not drive OVER the speed limit, but a LARGE percentage of them drive well BELOW it. On the mutherfuckin’ FREEWAY!

What the bloody HELL people!?! This is not the scenic route to Disney. This is a freaking Intersate and the main road that regular commuters use to get to… well.. EVERY FUCKING WHERE! Move. Your. Ass.

No, this is not Big City driving at all. This? Is retardation en masse and on wheels.

Air Conditioning - I mean, duh. I knew there would be air conditioning. And it is definitely, absolutely, necessary. But holy hell people - we moved here for the WEATHER and the WARMTH! I had to go to work in jeans and a long sleeve hoodie today!

I am confident that in order for me to take over this part of the world I am going to have to learn how to dress in such a way that I can acquire something resembling in a tan without freezing my ass off all day. Hmmm…. the conundrum.

ANYway, that’s a start. Learn the language, dominate the road, and figure out how to combat the freezing temperatures in the South.

Next up? Maneuvering the ridiculousness that is the Florida School System.

Hello?  *tap, tap*  Hello?

Is there anyone left?  I know I’ve abandoned you for… for… well it might as well be forever with the average attention span of a blogger.

I’m sorry.  I know.  I’ve been very, very bad and a select few of you will be allowed to punish me.  No, not you.  You, sit down. *sigh*

ANYway… let’s see, what has happened since the last time I posted….

Oh yeah.  I, um, bought a house.  In Florida.  A brand spanking new house in a fancy schmancy neighborhood (back off spell checker - schmancy is totally a word!).

So there’s that.

Um… what else…

Oh, well I sold house #2.  Last night.  At about 9:15pm.  I guess the technical term is “I accepted an offer on my house”.  Or, is it, “I accepted an offer on my house exactly one fucking week after it went on the market!!!!!”?  ToMAYto, ToMAHto.

Yeah.  So.  In less than a week I have sold two houses, bought another one, and been approved for financing on my new beautiful brand fucking new no one has ever pooped in the toilet house.  And, as of this morning, my boss has officially approved me to keep working from Florida.  Yay!
And?

I have to be out August 10th.

30 Days.

Holy. Shit.

I still can’t believe we did it.  The months and months of hard work.  The late nights.  The days without showering and being covered in dirt and dust and paint.  The bickering and the arguing about paint color and landscaping and what to fix and what to leave.  The absolute break downs and sobbing when it seemed like we were in way over our heads.  When it seemed like “they” were right, and we were crazy.  The what if’s.  The contingency plans.  The constant yo yo between day dreaming bliss and absolute despair.

It’s all led up to this.  The most perfectly laid out previous five days.  It makes me dizzy thinking about how wonderfully everything has fallen into place.

I will be posting pictures and details and constant gushing over the next couple days.  Then, of course, I will be posting whining and ranting and constant bitching for the next few weeks as I attempt to move a family of four 1428 miles.

But for now… for now I’m just basking.  For now I’m just enjoying this:

So I was talking to mah bitch last night and we were doing what we usually do in the few hours of time we have for just US.  That is, we were rubbing each other’s egos and cackling on about how much better we were then everyone else.

No, no.  Of course I jest.  Amy and I are both very humble women who have far better things to do than build ourselves up by tearing random internet strangers down.  I mean really, how petty do you people think I am?

We were actually bitching talking about our blogs and blog traffic and commenters.  Specifically, about why we don’t have more of them.

We talked about how we had both been very lazy lately about going to other blogs, or rather commenting on other blogs.  I mean I have like 106 blogs in my feed reader.  But I only comment on like 5 a day or so anymore.  I’m just… “meh” right now, ya know?

ANYway, we both agreed that commenting is the best way to get readers and that if we weren’t willing to do more of that we shouldn’t bitch.  Or rather, she agreed.  Because she is a good person.  Or rather, she made me promise to tell you all that she agreed because she is at least a better person than me.

But you know what? Not me.  Fuck that.

I don’t want readers who only come here hoping to get a little reciprocal lovin’.  I don’t read blogs because I’m hoping they’ll stop by here.  Fuck, I read amalah.com every damn day and you KNOW that bitch isn’t ever going to have a minute for this place (right?  amalah? love me!!!!!!!)

I read people because they make me smile.  Or laugh.  Or think.  Or because I am just in awe of their ability to take words from their head and put them into mine.  And a lot of the bloggers I read never show up here either.  I mean, like, never.

And that’s the kind of reader I want.

I want admirers.  And worshippers.  Who flock to me come rain, shine, sleet, snow or comment.  Who come here and comment whether they ever see me on their blog or not.  And who would piss themselves with glee if they did (again, hellloooo amalah!  And Crystal! OMG Crystal I remember the time you commented here and called me “sug”!!!)

Yes.  Absolutely.  I want a flock.

And if that makes me a bitch ass.. uh… bitch.  No, wait, I think it’s “bitch ass ho”.  Yeah!  If that makes me a bitch ass ho - well, so be it!

Because, bitch ass ho’s are really in this season, aren’t they?

My boss has asked me today if I could “take a break from blogging for a bit to train the new girl.”

Pfft.  The demands of this job are getting to be a bit ridiculous.  But since he did just buy me a brand new video camera, I have agreed to try.

That being said, the new young little thing isn’t here yet so I’ve got a quick moment to give you a progress report.

Yes, my friends, it seems that I am making progress with The Master Plan.

This weekend, while at an itty bitty bar for a friend’s birthday party, there was a bit of a “scuffle”.  Said scuffle involved friend’s husband and some other idiot (a label that I’m assuming will keep me off any future witness lists) and, eventually, our Chief of Police.

I don’t know the details of the fight - and really, those details aren’t important.  What is important is that in the aftermath my friend found herself in a discussion with the COP (Chief of police…or, um, I guess cop would work too).  And somewhere, somehow, at some point in the conversation, this phrase was said…

“Well, what would Britt do?”

Yeah.  That’s right.  Our COP felt the best counsel he could offer a citizen in trouble was “what would Britt do?”

Let’s just ignore the blasphemous implications here, and focus on the fact that I am starting to make headway in my plan to become the supreme authority on just about everything.  I have been telling people for YEARS that if they would just listen to me, and of course do what I say, they would be so much better off.  And finally, the general public is starting to come around.

I’m trying not to let this little bit of success go to my head.  I must remember that I still have so far too go.

In fact, the party I’m hosting this evening in honor of my new title as Supreme Authority On Anything and Everything (That Happens in BFE Iowa) is going to be extremely understated and tasteful.  Humility is so important.

Anyway, back to what this has to do with you…

Dear citizens of the blogosphere, as you struggle through your trials and tribulations today… as you cope with your boss and deal with the daily hardships… when you feel lost and confused and beaten and down-trodden… simply ask yourselves:

“What would Britt do?”

I think I’m going to need to make shirts.