Um…I think we just bought a house? ¹³

Looks like the Taylors are staying in ‘Sota for good!

“You’re kidding, right?”

Sorry, Jolie…the offer your father and I made on that house last Wednesday was accepted!

(I think the snuggle pooch will change her tune once she realizes she’s living in a lake home with heated floors for maximum ground napping.)

This milestone has been a long time coming for Scott and I. We’ve been trying to find the perfect home since 2009, and have made no less than nine offers on six different properties in the process. My head spins just thinking about the four-year long real estate obstacle course we’ve finally completed. The good news is that out of all the homes we’ve ever considered, this is the only one that felt just right. While purchasing a home is one of the most terrifying decisions I’ve ever made, I feel really great about our investment. There’s no doubts or cold feet — just lots of excitement and daydreaming on Pinterest.

We had a successful inspection over the weekend, and are now just waiting on an appraisal from the bank to make sure the home is worth what we’re paying for it. Once that’s final, I’ll share more details about Casa de Taylor. (Spoiler Alert: There’s lots of shag carpet. And not the good kind.)

In the mean time, I’m spending every last second of free time trolling the internet for items to furnish my new digs. Much like Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City 2, I feel as if “I’ve been cheating on fashion with furniture.”

And it feels good.

First on the agenda? A sassy doormat, of course.

Because nothing says “Welcome to my home” quite like a welcome mat with some Flavor-Flav inspired slang. Am I right or am I right?

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Prom BINGO ⁴

A few weeks ago, I had the unique experience of witnessing the dramatic spectacle commonly known as “prom” in Smalltown.

Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, prom was still a major milestone, but not like it is in ‘Sota. This was immediately apparent the instant I stepped through the local high school’s doors to attend “Grand March”, or as I like to call it, “Minnesota Cotillion”.

I’m pretty sure I was one of the few people in attendance who didn’t have a close friend or family member marching down the rope-light runway in an evening gown. To avoid looking out-of-place, I brought my own activity to keep busy with.

Reason #469 that Katrina is a bad person.

I also had two of my dearest friends to keep me company.

I swear. Those bottles are filled with WATER.

Although I’m kind of bummed that they are. This would have been the perfect opportunity to recreate the rebellious high school experience I never actually had the first time around!

The good news?

I totally won at BINGO!

But then again, I was the twenty-eight year old woman in the back of the bleachers, living vicariously through the young, tan specimens prancing down the runway in backless dresses while I made passive aggressive comments to my BINGO card. (And drank from a sketchy looking water bottle)

So really…I think that means I lose.

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I’m going to Australia! ⁵

Fine.

That declaration may have been a tad bit premature.

Perhaps a more accurate title for this post would be ‘I’m trying as hard as humanly possible to win a trip to Australia’.

But, as my father Mark has taught me, believing you are going to win is the first step in actually winning.

Trust me — Mark would know. He’s been a longtime sweepstakes fanatic, whose winnings have included a two-week trip to Germany culminating with a Rolling Stones concert in Berlin (sponsored by Budweiser, of course), a hot air balloon/bicycling trip through the Napa Valley wine country, a ski trip to Whitefish, Montana, and yes, even a trip to Australia.

And that’s just his travel prizes.

The most classic example of Mark’s “believe and you will win” attitude takes us back to December of 1997. The Nintendo 64 gaming system had recently debuted in North America, and my younger brothers just had to have one for Christmas. The problem? The elusive “64″ was priced at $150.

One hundred fifty dollars for a Christmas gift?

Pastor Mark don’t play that.

“Don’t worry boys,” he assured the twins, “I’ll win you one for Christmas.”

Janss and Leif immediately launched into the quintessential 8-year-old pre-Christmas tantrum. “But, Dad!!!” Janss whimpered, “There’s no way you’re actually going to win one of them in time for Christmas!!”

Technically, Janss was correct. Mark didn’t win one in time for Christmas.

He won two.

So yes. I am going to Australia.*

How exactly am I going about winning this fabulous vacation in the first place, you ask? By participating in the third annual Tone It Up Bikini Series, of course! For the next eight weeks, along with my partner in ~~crime~~ lunges Kayla, I’ll be competing for the grand prize trip while significantly reducing my muffin tops. Our Bikini Series days will be packed with Tone It Up workouts and plenty of “Lean, Clean and Green” snacks and meals. Part of the challenge involves checking in via various social media channels, so if you see a barrage of workout/nutrition photos on my Instagram feed, I’m not trying to bombard you with ‘look how many burpees I did!’ status updates, or make you feel bad if you happen to be sitting on the couch eating Double Stuff Oreos. (Trust me. My thighs are filled with more Double Stuff Oreos than I’d like to admit.) I’m simply trying to fulfill my dream of eating nothing but Vegemite for a week without actually having to pay for it.

(And yes…I’m one of those weird American’s who actually enjoys Vegemite.)

Kayla has entrusted me to manage our video recap for the end of the contest–I’ve been brainstorming all week, and am currently leaning towards a choreographed Rollerblade routine set to the musical stylings of Macklemore.

(Sorry, Kayla.)

Want to come to Australia with us? Today is the first day of the contest, and anyone can sign up for free here.

Four teams of two will win a free trip to a beach destination of their choice through Contiki Vacations. How awesome would it be if ‘Sota readers swept the entire thing, and celebrated together while riding across the Outback on kangaroos?

Almost as awesome as winning two Nintendo 64 game systems in the same Christmas, right?

*Last year I won a trip to South America…the year before I took home an iPad. Clearly, I’m on some sort of streak, here.

**Pastor Mark has already agreed to bless our Bikini Series contest entry

***Cam, Jeff, Kristina, Richenda and Kyle…I’m totally making you meet me for a Tim Tam Slam while I’m Down Under.

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Apparently, I married a French Canadian ⁸

While many women might brag about their husband’s ability to remodel the master bathroom, win a fishing tournament or conquer Thorny’s 80 ounce steak challenge, I’m often found gloating about a much more…well…unusual talent.

Accents, to be exact.

Not only does my husband have a gift for duplicating just about any regional dialect, he manages to create deliciously eccentric characters in the process. Jàmæzle, the opinionated Bavarian fashion designer (and his handcrafted fishbone thimble) are a prime example of this. There’s also Sherman Pickworth, the effeminate gentleman from South Carolina with an affinity for sweet tea and bird watching, and Jezebel–Jolie’s cantankerous aunt who five years later, still hasn’t forgiven our snuggle pooch for allegedly stealing the recipe for her beloved potato salad.

Aunt Jezebel. (Potato salad no pictured.)

Aunt Jezebel. (Potato salad not pictured.)

Late Friday night, Jean-Michel was added to the cast of characters.

11:12 pm

Scott, myself and two friends we were meeting in Des Moines wander down to our hotel’s hot tub in an attempt to unwind before bed. We notice three other patrons in the jacuzzi. As it’s too crowded to simply ignore them, Scott begins to engage them in conversation.

In a French Canadian accent.

(I later learned this was a tactic to justify the itsy-bitsy Speedo he was wearing.)

Our two friends seem somewhat baffled by his spontaneous personality shift, but I assure them this sort of behavior is quite normal.

11:15 pm

We discover one of the men in the hot tub is getting married the next morning. Scott wishes him luck and then makes a potentially offensive joke about marriage in general. I don’t quite catch it as I’m laughing uncontrollably at the fact that these people are actually buying his persona.

11:24 pm

Our new friends ask Scott why on earth he would choose to visit Iowa for his weekend getaway to the states?

“The windmills, of course!” he replies with the utmost seriousness.

11:32 pm

Scott….er…I mean Jean-Michel challenges to the groom to a race in the swimming pool. “You can do the freestyle,” he encourages, “But do you mind if I do the butterfly? It’s the traditional stroke of the people of Regina.”

I stifle another giggle…is it just me or is Saskatchewan not the most French region of Canada?

11:33 pm

The groom agrees to the race and the two men step out of the pool. Many double takes occur as a result of Jean-Michel’s microscopic racing suit.

11:36 pm

The race commences. Jean-Michel wins by a few seconds, which inspires me to sing the first few lines of “Oh, Canada!”

11:38 pm

The best man informs us he will be making reference to his brother participating in a pre-wedding aquatics race against a random French Canadian dude just hours before his vows. Scott blushes with satisfaction.

12:00 am

The pool closes. As we exit the hot tub, the groom invites all four of his to attend his nuptials. Jean-Michel’s response? “Will you be serving poutine at the reception?”

******

We ultimately chose not to crash the reception. Partly because there would be no poutine, but mostly because “Jean-Michel” was terrified his cover would be blown were he to run into someone who actually spoke French.