I am Rosemary's Baby.

Last night's Open House was a bust. It was disappointing, but not unexpected. I did still net some profit before and after the Open Houses, though, which is good. We'll see what happens tomorrow morning.

I really want to go to Iowa tomorrow. There will be so many of the family at the internment in Montrose that I have not seen in years. It would be a wonderful, yet brief, opportunity to reconnect. Plus, I love Southern Iowa. My days on the farm during the summer growing up were some of the best I can remember. Barn jumping, ATV riding and catfish hunting. My best stories are borne from my experiences in Iowa. Love it.

I got my haircut yesterday. I always do this. I try try try to grow my hair out and I fail, because I have zero patience for such a tediously annoying task! So I did a quick search online to find the perfect cut, and I found it, of course. I wanted my hair to look similar to Michelle William's look in the October Vogue issue, but the hairstylist cut it too short and now it looks more like Mia Farrow circa Rosemary's Baby. Sure, I can pull it off, I have before. But I was still sad because it isn't as cute as MW's cut. Oh well, hair grows.

On the big plus side, my morning routine has gone from 45 minutes to like...18 minutes. Talk about sweet.

Best moment of the night though was telling my husband that I was attacked by a poop peanut, care of our daughter, Afton. He looked at me like I had lost my mind, until I explained that while changing Afton's diaper, a poop covered peanut fell out and landed right on my foot.

Watching Rudy writhe and gag on the floor makes the grossness soo worth it.

Ostrich Monster.

Some days I wish I could bury my head in the sand and just hide out, except I'd like to be invisible too, so someone doesn't come a-knockin' on my butt asking me why I've done gone insane.

People are dropping like flies!

On Saturday, Uncle Don had to be unhooked from his life support and on Sunday, he died. It's been a tough few weeks, dealing with crazy, emotional family members and the mysteriously vague illness that attacked Uncle Don and ultimately killed him. He was 83.

Then, on Monday, a good friend of my family calls to inform us that her father, a great friend of my grandparents, has been stuck in the hospital with a raging case of staphylococcus. The staph infection is so bad that it weakened his immune system enough to kick his pre-leukemia into a full-blown stage infinity leukemia. He has three months. What the hell, man?

Oh, and have I mentioned I am moving to Tempe? As in Arizona? Another one of our amazingly split-second decisions which will most likely render our little family just a slight bit crazier than we already were.

If luck is upon me (which it almost never is), my two Holiday Open Houses this week will be a lovely payoff. I am excited and nervous, as I have no idea how many people are actually going to show up. I'm trying not to set myself up for disappointment, because I am told open houses can be very tame. We'll see. I attempted to advertise as much as humanly possible. Go Mary Kay!

Otherwise I find that I thoroughly dislike working at the Club now. I am so over bartending and serving. I want something better!

Go me!