Thursday, August 18, 2011

Rock on.

Okay, so I guess there were a few things I could've talked about in the last week:

Like how Momma and I drove to Cincinnati on Saturday and spent a few hours with dear, sweet Maggie, lounging in her pool and eating a yummy meal she managed to sneak and pay for before we knew what was going on.  THAT won't happen again - the her paying for it part.

And then I almost got murdered by the super freak storm that popped up suddenly when I was on my way home Saturday.  I literally had to stop my car in the middle of the road and just hope beyond hope that no one plowed into me - the water was coming down in a sheet and I couldn't see anything beyond my wipers.  Nothing.  When the worst was over and I could move again - at 5 mph, with my flashers on - there were three trees  lying across both lanes on my side of the street.  Thank goodness none of them landed on my car - that would've sucked.

Or I could've told you about how I sorta started a fight with Jimi because I got all worked up over the fact that we're not married and there are no wedding bells on the horizon.  Here's what it came down to, though:  I could put my foot down and insist on matrimony, and he'd do it.  But I don't want him to marry me because I made him; I want him to marry me because he wants me to be his wife.  I already know he wants to spend forever with me - I just can't make him see why the married part matters.  I could threaten to leave, but if I did that, I'd be playing a game - I'm not willing to leave.  When it comes right down to it, we're together and we're happy, and for now, that's just going to have to be enough.  (But I've got a "If we ever got married..." category on Pinterest.  Just in case.)

Finn escaped from the back yard yesterday - that was something exciting I could've written about.  One of the boards in our fence came down, apparently, allowing Finn to squeeze through into the neighbor's yard, which has lots of escape hatches to the outside world.  I'm sure he greatly enjoyed terrorizing the neighborhood squirrels for a bit - but then he spotted some neighbors and darted over to them.  When I came tearing ass around the corner, leash in one hand, other hand holding up my jeans that were threatening to fall to my knees, my pup was sitting there between his two new friends, tail wagging, tongue hanging out, as if to say, "Hi Mom!  I met some new people!"  The neighbor has his finger hooked through Finn's collar - "He just ran right up to us," he said.  I was so glad he wasn't squished in the middle of the road.

Jimi shaved off all of his face hairs; in five years, I've never seen his face naked.  It's sorta like making out with and waking up next to a stranger.

Oh, and I'm at that point where I'm feeling myself up constantly - are my boobs sore, or am I squeezing them too hard?  I almost write a "I think I might be pregnant" post every month, but I stop myself because I don't want to be that girl.  I guess I just am, though.  I am that girl.  The crazy - I has it, and it is strong.

The dress I ordered too small?  It came in, and my Momma picked it up for me yesterday.  I don't even want to go get it or try it on for fear (knowing) that it won't fit.  Fuck.  Why do I do dumb things?  Why does food have to taste so good?

Is it Friday yet?

Oh, and can I just say how good it makes me feel that you guys even noticed I wasn't around for a few days? I mean, if you didn't that's okay, but if you did, you rock my socks.  This blogging community thing is really something special.


  1. When you wrote about Jimi shaving, it brought up something my mom told me about my dad. He had a beard the whole time they dated and after they married. One day mom came home with a strange man in her home. It took her a few mins. to realize it was my dad. He once shaved when I was almost a year old and mom said I wouldn't have anything to with him for a day or two.

  2. Glad you survived the super freak storm! I don't mind them when I'm home but hate driving in them!

    I went through the "are you ever going to marry me" ordeal for 7 freaking years. It started around year 2, I started the heavy hinting that, you know, a proposal would be nice. Somewhere into year 4 I realized that wasn't going to work so I tried the opposite approach and made the decision that I didn't care if we ever got married - at this point we'd bought a house together, had a dog, things were good so what did I have to complain about. This approach totally backfired because secretly I still did care about getting married but he thought I didn't so he didn't propose. Finally in year 7, we hashed it out and decided to get married (romantic, I know!). Looking back, I guess we both took that lame-ass approach but it all worked out it just took forever.

  3. It took my husband 8 years exactly to propose to me and I didn't believe him! I knew my guy was in it for the long haul and wasn't going to go anywhere, but I really wanted to share his last name and be married. For me, it was important. It came down to me telling him that he had to decide to marry me or I was moving on. As sad as that would make me, marriage was important to me. I gave him until our 8 year anniv (almost 6 months) and I wasn't supposed to bring the topic of marriage up. It was a hard time and I know I was quite mean at times, but it was so important to me.
    So, yeah, our 8th anniv came he proposed to me and I didn't believe him. When I did believe him a few days later, we got the paperwork filled out and sent in and were married 2.5 weeks later. It's been 5 years now and we're still very happy! Good luck!

  4. I NEVER keep track of my monthly thing and without fail, about every three months if I think there's a possibility I may be late, I automatically jump to "oh my god! I think I'm pregnant!". So yeah, every so often, I'm that girl too and it's just fine.

  5. I'm so glad you and your momma came up. I had a great time! But you left out the part where OF COURSE I paid for lunch, because you two were my guests and I'm too big of a wuss to cook for other people. How many times have you and Jimi (and your momma too, actually) fed me fabulous food that you cooked? It's the least I could do.


Please don't make me cry.


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