Basement Boogie: Where everyone knows your name

I'm so glad I married a math-y guy. In fourth grade, my teacher preferred putting on plays and having the class read aloud and ever since, my math brain just hasn't worked right. BUT. I can impersonate Sally Ride very well and would probably smack Levar Burton down in a read-off. So, there's that.

Hubs' math skills are impeccable and his left brain-ed-ness made this possible:

Hell yeah, homeslice - that's a custom counter for behind the bar. We built it in just a few hours and didn't even make any grave measuring mistakes.

We'll put doors over the left side and leave the right side open for a wine rack and microwave. Next to that, is our prized kegerator. We'll paint the whole thing and cap it off with a DIY concrete counter top and teensy tiny tile back splash.

Thank you math, for getting this party started.

Also: You guys, I was recognized today. Like, for writing this blog. By a total stranger! I didn't catch my fan(! I know!)'s name, but she was super nice and she made my day by allowing me to now back up my claims to my far-flung family that I'm "really big in Des Moines." Thank you, reader! Can I say I've arrived now? When do I get an entourage? Do ceWebrities (thank you, Ms. Socialize for coining that term!) get free cheese anywhere in this town? If so, I'd like to be taken there. In a carriage. Like now.