KETcHUP!

That lower case "c" in the title was a complete fluke, but I'm not gonna lie, I kind of fell for the adorable little guy so he stays!

I know I haven't been posting lately and I know that because there has been this looming cloud of ball-dropping and posts unwritten following me. Nagging unflinchingly like a sexist 1950s depiction of a housewife. Think Mad Men without the rockin' decor. I've actually only seen a few episodes of Mad Men, so forgive me if that simile isn't entirely accurate. Making stuff up / drawing analogies that only work on the flimsiest of levels is super fun.

Trust me.

SO, what, you might be asking, would keep me from this glorious blog? And, before wondering aloud why you're asking questions of a person who clearly can't hear you, I answer:

1. Remember that beacon of shining bungalow heaven the bf and I purchased in November? Well, a week and a half ago IT WAS BURGLARIZED. You guys, some one walked through our back gate, pulverized our back door, stole our two flat screen HDTVs, and ran out the front door leaving it WIDE OPEN. When the crime scene guy saw our back door he was astonished, and said that he had literally never seen a door as damaged as ours—that deviant criminal junkies usually don't go to this much trouble:


Since this blessed event we've done a TON to make our home more secure, but seriously?

And, yes, it could have been a lot worse. They could have harmed or killed our pets. They could have cleaned our house out. They could have stolen credit cards, passports, checks, etc. None of that happened, for which I am eternally grateful.

HOWEVER, I would like to put this out into the universe: If you are the person who broke into my home when my boyfriend and I were at work, toiling away to pay for said house and all the belongings in it, including the items you stole, please DIE IN A FIRE.

2. Requesting of the universe that people I hate die in a fire is my new favorite thing. Enlightened? No. Cosmically detrimental? Quite possibly. Fulfilling in a deep warming-the-cockles-of-your-heart sort of way? UNDENIABLY.

3. Someone very near and dear to my heart is in the hospital. I don't feel like this blog is necessarily the place to go into detail about this, but it was really scary for a while there. After spending every non-working moment for the last several days at the University Hospital, it seems like everything's going to be alright. And for that I am bottomlessly thankful.

4. So, Lisa? Why haven't you offed yourself? You wonder silently after the reprimand you received at the beginning of this post. To which I answer: THE BAHAMAS! Next month the bf and I will be lounging on white sandy beaches and puttering around our villa at the undeniably extravagant Grand Isle resort on Great Exuma. Silver linings, you guys. Silver linings.

That's all there is for the dramatic tale of Lisa and Haigen's June of Ill Repute. Tune in next time for what I'm sure will be some pictures of dope shit I want to own or lovely creatures I want to look like. And until then may your lives be a hundred thousand times less eventful than mine.

Don't mind if I do!

Delightful Outfit

5 things

Ok, first let's get the important items of business out of the way.

I covet this dress:

sarahseven

With these shoes:

(I just googled Chloe Sevigny buckle shoes...)

I want to be as dope as the girl on the left:

(I don't remember where I got this photo - If someone out there knows please share!)

Or a fraction this radness:

(Same photo dilemma here.)

Now that we've covered that important ground, let's move on.

1. We spent all day Saturday weeding the overgrown wilderness that was our flowerbeds. I'm pretty sure we decimated at least three entire ecosystems and endangered twelve new opossum species that had yet to be cataloged and assigned their own binomial nomenclatures. I'm being too fancy here. Let me break it down. I'm pretty sure several forms of wildlife called our overgrown vegetation home. And we cut down their homes. And now they will die. But... YARD LOOKS PRETTY! Also, we have - SURPRISE - grapes! And - MYSTERY - some sort of squash plant!

2. The Tracy Anderson workouts are going well. There have only been two so far, one last Tuesday and one last Thursday, and we've had steady attendance of... four people. Not including the men I work with who thought it would be fun to watch us and heckle things like, "I'll show you a real workout." Seriously. And I work with married Mormons. And, they're all fat so... I must say that I distrust their offers of a "real" workout...

3. Anyone out there know what I should be doing with my life? Please pass it on!

4. My girl crush on Mindy Kaling is getting worse by the second. I'm pretty sure I love her more than el Diablo del Cody... She's just as witty without the gross sexcapade overshares.

5. The End

Determination

I am DETERMINED to post, even though I'm a terribly boring human with zero going on in my life.

Oh, so actually the plumbing problem went from almost costing us $20,000 to being remedied by five hours of dedicated plumbers doing everything they could and a total out-of-pocket fee of a measly $360. The plumbers we called were so determined, and they absolutely refused to leave our house until we were up and running.

And by determined I mean five hours of pipe snaking, retrieving plans from the city to discern precisely where our water line ran, and ultimately calling in a “jetter” to remove the blockage. Oh, and snaking? It’s BACKBREAKING work. And our plumbing plans? They’re hand written. In pencil. From 1918.

I am not exaggerating.

And after the pipe was cleared? They returned the next day to video scope it again just to make sure our problem was 100% resolved.

Moral of the story?

1. Never waster time, money, your sanity on a home warranty.
2. If you have any plumbing concerns and live in the Salt Lake area, these are the only two numbers you WILL EVER NEED:

Plumbing Plus
801.484.7705

Remarkable Rooter
801.467.8511

Also, since we all of a sudden aren’t going to be out $20,000 we’re going on a vacation. Probably in July, almost certainly to frolic in the crystal clear waters of the Bahamas.

I’ll keep you posted.

Lastly, TRACY ANDERSON. Do you guys know about this woman? She’s the personal trainer responsible for the stunning physiques of Gwynnie Paltrow and Madonna and I’m moderately to severely obsessed with her. I purchased both of her DVDs, have been doing them 4 to 6 times a week just like my new best friend Tracy suggests, and am hosting a Tracy Anderson workout hour at my place of employment. Today’s the first sesh so… we’ll see if my peeps are as in love with Ms. Anderson as I am.

I’m sorry this post wasn’t funny.

At least I won't leave any lingering questions in my wake...

Saturday afternoon Haigen ventured down to our medieval dungeon (aka the basement) where he discovered, much to his/our chagrin, a portion of it to be flooded. We scoured high and low, nigh and whatever the opposite of nigh is, turned on all the taps, flushed the toilet a bunch of times, did a load of dishes, started the washing machine and still could not discern the stagnant pool of mystery water’s point of origin. So, after ruining two brooms sweeping the swampy muck into a drain on the basement floor, and copious amounts of shoulder shrugging and scalp scratching, we were officially baffled.

A plumber definitely needed to be called, but we went about the rest of the day not really thinking about the problem too much. That is, until I showered later that evening and the basement re-flooded. This time we ran the bathtub tap for a longer period of time and both stood in the dungeon watching.

Waiting.

Listening.

Until water began gurgling UP from the dark, murky underworld below and OUT OF the drain in the basement floor.

The plumber came by this morning to check it out, and thank God I wasn’t there, because I woke up in a bad mood this morning.

A bad mood that persisted through the diagnosis of this problem as being potentially financially and house-foundationally decimating.

A bad mood that remained unwavering through the information that our main water line was probably broken by either freezing temperatures or tree roots.

A bad mood that was steadfast through the explanation that home warranties don’t cover plumbing issues resulting from either of these causes.

A bad mood that remained fixed like a barnacle on the underbelly of a rusted sea freighter upon hearing that all of the trouble we went through to get the pipes scoped prior to purchasing this house were all for naught, and that the main water line of “these old houses” tends to run directly under the foundation of the home—meaning that any repairs will involve accessing a pipe UNDERNEATH OUR HOUSE.

That bad mood? It wasn’t going anywhere.

Especially after Haigen informed me that the plumber? He snaked the pipe and EXPUNGED FROM IT HANDFULS OF USED TAMPONS.

And most certainly that bad mood of mine didn’t budge when Haigen described his reaction to the tampon-extraction as, “Freaked out. At first I thought they were dead mice.”

In case you’re wondering, I’m definitely killing myself because of this.

Definitely.

I am so in love

Free People