My house is exactly one year old today! Happy Birthday, house! Well, technically, my house was built in 1956, so it’s really 57 years old, but who’s counting? It’s a year old to me and I love it as much today as I did when I stepped into it 13 months ago and had to mow down the other five people trying to buy it. Victory!

Since I moved in, I’ve made a few updates. I’ve painted every inch of it (ceilings, walls, trim, base boards, cabinets, doors, and the entire exterior). I’ve installed new hardware on my doors and cabinets. I’ve installed a new water heater (not by my choosing), put in an awesome new Hansgrohe faucet in my kitchen and Santec faucet in my bathroom, installed marble on my bathroom vanity, and a few other odds and ends. I’m still working on decorating it, with the help of Kristina Wilson of Kristina Wilson Design, but that’s the fun part.

So what’s the not-so-fun part? I’ll tell you: my 60-year old water oak trees. If it’s not the leaves falling by the bag-full, it’s the acorns dropping by the ton; and if it’s not the acorns dropping by the ton, it’s the very, very, VERY large branches falling and littering up my yard. I was sweeping and scooping in the fall (hi acorns!), raking in the winter (hi leaves!) and am now building small bonfires in the summer (hi branches!). It looks something like this on the daily.

Don’t get me wrong — I adore every square inch of my house and yard. There is literally nothing I’d change. Nothing! But it’s true what they say: there really is always something to do when you own a home. I have had more than a few moments where I’ve wished I was back in my no-maintenance condo rather than logging trees in my backyard. That or wishing I had a really, really cute yard boy. Either or.

It’s a well-known fact that I work the late shift. I am usually one of the last people into the office and am usually one of the last people to leave. I’m not proud of it, but I own it. I just do not function well before 9 am but by 2 pm, I’m kickin’ things pretty hard! Mondays are Mondays for a reason — the first day of a long work week — and today was especially hard to get going because I’m having a new fence put up at my house and I had to talk to the fence guy to discuss things like which way the gates should swing and why they needed to cut down my two gorgeous boxwood trees¹. You know, all the important things. Because of all the fence rigamarole, today was one of those days that I just didn’t have time to finish putting on my mascara² before I left for work, so I grabbed all my eyeball accoutrements and threw them in my purse. As soon as I stepped into the office, things were in full-swing and I never had time to finish putting on my face.

Shockingly, though, I had a few extra minutes before a 4 pm dr appointment this afternoon and thought I’d take the time to dress up my eyes to impress my doctor and all. He is a plastic surgeon, not to mention someone I like immensely, so I forever feel the need to look my best. I had to fish around in my ginormous handbag for five minutes to get my new-and-not-cheap mascara out and when I finally did, it slipped out of its box³ and fell between the driver seat and the console.

There’s not much space between those two things, but I slipped my hand in the miniscule crack to try and fish out the mascara tube. I didn’t feel anything, so I got out of my car and looked under the seat. I saw nothing. I moved the seat back thinking I’d be able to see it, but nope. I moved the seat forward thinking it had fallen back behind me. Nada. By this time, I was totally late for my appointment, but was determined to locate the mascara that was clearly taunting me. I thought I should shed a little light on the situation, so I got out my iPhone and still saw nothing. I moved the seat forward again and, when I say that I was practically standing on my head, I was practically standing on my head in my backseat looking for this mascara. I put my hand in every nook and cranny within two feet of my car seat and still could not find that mascara. I finally conceded defeat and headed in to my appointment, mascara-less and with hair all a-mess.

I repeated the same exact exercise when I got home so I could really stretch out and could use my hot pink LED flashlight. My contortionistic poses did nothing to help the cause though and, for the life of me, could not fine that mascara! The conclusion? My car eats things. And I am none too pleased about it. All I can say is RIP-new-expensive-mascara-that-accidentally-dropped-between-my-console-&-car-seat-&-sucked-into-the-nether-regions-never-to-be-found-again. I’ll miss you. And so will my checkbook.

¹ Thanksbeto the gardening gods, my fence guy is also a master gardener so he helped me figure out where to replant them so they won’t die a terrible, sudden death from being ripped out of the ground for the fence. Ahem.
² Or as I like to say, “finish putting on my eyeballs”. My work-husband is all too familiar with this refrain.
³Yes, I am anal retentive and keep my mascara in its box. It’s how I keep track of the age of them! Why are you looking at me that way?!

My blogging frequency has decreased about one million fold for so many reasons I can hardly count thee. Mostly, I blame Twitter and Facebook because who has time to actually write full-length blog posts when you can pretty much sum things up in <140 characters? I certainly don’t. I saw one of my friends from 1st grade tonight, though, and she practically begged me¹ to blog again, beginning with the awesome and hilarious story I told her about some rodeo flirting that went awry. Way awry. More to come on that.

Anyway, I haven’t blogged in six months. I have thought about blogging but have been so freaking busy doing things I could have blogged about that I had no time to actually blog. Some would say I was busier than a one-eyed cat watching two rat holes. So to catch you up, here’s a very brief snapshot of what I’ve been doing, because I know you are all very interested. You’re welcome!

• Fostered six dogs through K-9 Angels
• Visited my friend LG in Chicago and ate at Alinea
• Had a birthday
• Went to Baton Rouge for my family’s 61st Christmas Eve Eve party
• Eaten at a ton of great, and not-so-great, restaurants
• Finished a huge project at work and started another huge project right behind it
• Spent nearly every night from January 2 through February 9 at the Junior League for Charity Ball rehearsals
• Spent nearly every night at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo both on the Calf Scramble Committee and with my peeps
• Was a Transfer Advisor for the Junior League
• Became a provisional mentor for the Junior League
• Went to a bar every week for the last 36 weeks, which included becoming mayor of Blanco’s on Foursquare
• Hired a tree doctor to give my 60-year old water oak trees a haircut
• Laughed hard
• Cried hard
• Drank hard
• Played hard
• Worked hard
• Saw George Strait. Really, is there anything else?
• Basically had an amazing time

I’m sure there are 5,014 things I’ve forgotten that I’ve done in the last six months, but I still don’t know how to work iCloud on my iPhone and can’t seem to access my calendars prior to March². Nevertheless, I’m really happy to have some time to blog again. I have no idea how long it will last and I don’t know where I’ll be going, but I know that wherever it is, it won’t be boring.
¹And by “begged me”, I mean “mentioned it”.
² Clearly winning.

It’s been a while. A long freaking while. This is not because I haven’t wanted to blog about one billion times since I last posted on my old site (may she rest in peace). It’s because I’ve been too busy doing the things I’d normally blog about, you know, like working and Junior Leaguing and drinking and hanging with my friends and selling my condo and buying a new house and traveling and about one hundred billion other things.

Obvs, I couldn’t keep blogging under my old blog title Texan in Canada (may she rest in peace) primarily since I’m no longer a Texan in Canada (other than in my heart, which I will always be.), so I will now commence blogging under the cheeky moniker of Eat Cake For Breakfast because I can’t think of anything I’d rather do at breakfast other than eat cake. Well, I can think of a few things, but they aren’t things I can talk about in my blog¹. Ahem.

I’ll be chronicling my adventures so I’ll have something to read in my old age when my hard-partying days are done. Until then, though, I’ll be having my cake and eating too, in copious quantities. And then some.

¹What with all my senior readers, by which I mean my mom.