From Green Beans and Tears to Dirt and Shitters

So it's now Wednesday and I am still recovering from my Thanksgiving weekend! Of course this nasty ass cold I have come down with certainly isn't helping matters. UGH! There's nothing worse than being sick! Anyways, as usual Michael and I had our fair share of running around and totally not relaxing this past holiday weekend. Of course it wouldn't be Michael and I if we weren't committed to doing a million different things all at once, I am not sure how well that's going to fly once baby Squishy Sprout comes in 6 months. (Ohhh and Squishy Sprout is the babies nickname thanks to Brittany and Kim.. LOL.. at least until we start coming up with names)

Since Michael and I got the 5th wheel trailer back in September we hadn't had an opportunity to use it yet. His friends go every year up to Dove Springs, which is off 14 in the desert past Mojave, for Thanksgiving weekend with their bikes and trailers to go camping and riding. Now, to be honest with you, I am usually very gung-ho about doing stuff like this, but considering we're constantly on the go and I am also 3 months pregnant, the idea of staying at home, this holiday weekend, and just relaxing and getting the house all ready for Christmas sounded pretty enticing to me. In fact, Michael and I had a bit of a "tiff" as you would call it, about it. But, I felt bad because he does a lot for me and he really loves to go riding and he hasn't been in 2 years and once the baby comes we probably won't be able to do this kinda stuff for a while, so I apologized for being overemotional and insensitive and was on board with the trip. (Hey... I can admit when I am wrong or being a little overboard)

Anyways, so we spent the majority of the weekend before and the days before getting everything ready to go camping from Thursday night till Sunday morning. We were going to have Thanksgiving dinner with my family and then head to Duarte to have dessert with Michael's nieces and then head out to the desert. Thanksgiving morning comes along and I am a little on the emotional side for some reason or another. I was going to be bringing a Green Bean Casserole to Thanksgiving and decided that the traditional Green Bean Casserole wasn't good enough and that I needed to re-invite the Green Bean Casserole with a recipe I saw on the Food Network(of course!) It was a bit complex because I had to make the roux as well as make my own french fried onion toppings, but in the days before Thanksgiving, I was confident enough I could make it work like the Champion Head Chef in Training I was... well... maybe in my own mind.

So I get started on my amazingly different Green Bean Casserole about an hour later than I had originally planned and some how guilted Michael into helping me with it. Making the roux was really tough, because you have to mix the flour and milk really fast and make sure it thickens... well.... it took me 3 times before I could make it to the right consistency.... but.... No tears.... I was frustrated as all hell, especially since it was 12pm and I was still in my PJ's and we had to be at my Aunts house around 1pm. So I finally get everything all together and get my Casserole in the oven and start working on my french fried onions.... that's when I lost it. Those stupid little things were not frying up for the life of me and I couldn't figure out why. They were just turning this awful looking dark dark brown color, without getting fried at all. That's when the water works hit. Here it was, a quarter to 1pm, I am standing in my kitchen in my blue PJ pants and white wife beater, hair all over the place, a spatula in one hand, dirty pots and pans all over the place, flour spread from one inch of my kitchen to the other with tidbits of mushrooms and green beans and red peppers in the mix and crying like a friggin baby that my Green Bean Casserole was going to, in fact, "SUCK". At that point Michael took the spatula out of my hand, told me to go upstairs and start getting ready and he'd finish the rest. So after a good bawl in the shower, I came downstairs to find that he had salvaged what was left of my french fried onion topping and finished the Casserole as well as washed all the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. What a hero. I should buy that man a cape if it wouldn't stroke his ego too much. So off we went to Thanksgiving dinner... only about an hour late... LOL.

After our dinner with my family(oh and by the way, my Green Bean Casserole was a big hit, I was even asked to bring it to Christmas dinner... I think I saw Michael take a shot of Jack Daniels after that though...LOL) and a really nice visit with Michael's nieces, we were finally on our way to the desert at about 11:00pm at night, putting us in Dove Springs at about 1:30 AM. It was so beautiful when we got there though. I have never seen so many stars in my life and it's not like I've lived in the City my whole life either, it was just so amazing!! Cold... but beautiful!!

Now I am not the type of woman that just likes to sit around, I have to be in the middle of things, so even though we were in the desert, I somehow managed to finagle my way into doing things that some doctors would probably shake there heads at, seeing a 3 month pregnant woman doing. It was nothing bad!! I just took the kids in Michael's truck, off-roading to this little bar/store/deli where a live band plays... and I took Michael's quad on a very smooth ride to check out the scenery.... AND I sweet-talked my way into being passenger in a Polaris Ranger for a ride up the mountains to an old cabin.... AND Michael took me off-roading to this cool old mining tunnel. Let me tell you though... that mining tunnel was a little creepy but I toughed it out! We get there, right at sunset, and mind you, we're out in the middle of nowhere. So we get out of the truck and Michael instantly grabs his 9mm hand gun and puts it in the back of his pants to protect us from any wild animals or crazy derelicts that might be habituating in the tunnel. I don't know about you..... but there is NOTHING sexier than a serious man with a gun... LOL... I am not kidding you. it took everything I had not to throw my man on the ground and have my way with him out in the middle of the wilderness when he got that serious look on his face, loaded his gun, shoved it sexily in the back of his pants, and grabbed my arm protectively as he led me to this dark tunnel. I felt like one of those women in those cheesy dime store novels, being protected by some sexy serious stranger, with a dark haunted past, and having him lead me into some unknown tunnel for protection while we're being chased by a crazy man who's stalking me and then... you know how the books always turn out... "Broc shoved me hard against the tunnel wall and kissed me roughly... and I could feel his member stiff against my trembling thighs....." LMAO.... Ok.. maybe I am getting a little too carried away here.... Anyways... I am not going lie... my little dirty imagination was running wild as we headed in to that tunnel.... but that was short lived once we got in there. Good God this thing was creepy, all I could think about was the wild animals that could be lurking around every corner of this 1 mile long mine in the middle of this mountain... the view, once we got to other side was totally worth it, except my big tough protector said we should probably head back through the tunnel before it got much darker... So I took my two pictures and clasped on the back of "Broc's" rippled muscular back clinging my barely there nightie to my cold body as we trudged back through the tunnel to make mad passionate love on the old mining rails....... LMAO... (Totally joking by the way)

The morning we left to go home, I woke up so sick. Michael and I thought that maybe I had overdone it this weekend and this was the baby getting it's revenge on me, because I woke up throwing up and feeling all kinds of ick. We finally headed on our journey home and boy oh boy was THAT an adventure in itself. Those of you who've been camping in a trailer know that after your done, you need to empty the dirty water and the shitter out of the trailer. Well... at one point in the weekend this overly obnoxious friend of a friend thought it would be nice to just pollute our bathroom and fill up our toilet.... let me tell you it was foul. What was even more foul was the fact that would could not get the toilet to empty at the dump station. Michael poured some chemicals down it and bought a plunger and hoped it would work its way down and then we could pull into another dump station and empty it and alls well. Right?? WRONG!!! We couldn't find a dump station for the life of us, after having to pull over several times so I could throw up, we found ourselves traveling down the 10 freeway in search of a dump station to clear out our clogged toilet. We got all the way to Coachella, which mind you is about an hour and a half PAST our house in Loma Linda, before we finally found a dump station.... and Guess what? As luck would have it.. in the famous words of Randy Quaid in National Lampoons Christmas Vacation... "The shitters full!" Yes.. the shitter was STILL full and would not empty in the dump station. Now at this point it was now 7pm and we were sitting in Thanksgiving weekend traffic on the 10 freeway as I am throwing up in an empty Carls Jr. bag. Needless to say.... our scheduled 3 hour journey home turned into a nice little 12 hour jaunt across Southern California's deserts. I sure love camping, it's a lot of fun, but goodness, I forgot how much freakin work it is! Michael and I leave for Vegas on Sunday and I am looking forward to staying in a hotel where the shitters flush, thank you very much! Excuse me while I go pay hommage to my indoor plumbing.

Ooooohhhh BABY!!!!! (And not in a sexual way.. well... sorta..)

Well I am definitely a little behind in updating my Blog... (Sorry Hannah! LOL) It's been a busy busy month, but here I am and I am ready to update the blogger world on the exciting developments(literally) happening in my life over the past month. So sit back, relax, have a cup of coffee and maybe a donut if your diet permits and catch up on my news.

YES, in fact the rumors are true.... I am pregnant! 11 weeks pregnant to be exact and I am feeling great, meaning I haven't been praying to the porcelain God one bit, which I am pretty stoked about because me and vomit don't exactly go together like peanut butter and ladies if you know what I mean. Actually I think I need to invest in one of those new age robotic babies, kinda like the one's in License to Wed, that shits and pukes and teaches you how to be a parent, before I give birth to prepare my weak stomach for the joys that motherhood will bring me. (Ohh and P.S. Hannah... reading your blogs has given me a total insight on what to expect in the whole vomit and poo department) I am thinking I might need a little help before my bundle of joy graces me with it's first dirty diaper or spits up on me!! I know I know, they say once you become a mother that stuff doesn't bother you anymore, but still I don't want to be holding my baby in the hospital and have it spit up on me and I start gagging and have the Doctors and Nurses start whispering about me by the water cooler.. "Oh my God... did you see that new mom is 5B... Yeah... she totally gagged when her baby spit up... Seriously... she's got a rough road ahead of her.. just wait till she catches a glimpse of her first diaper after the baby switches to jarred veggies... she's a goner for sure"... Well.... I am sure it wouldn't exactly go like that but still.... Anyways, the baby is due on June 14th, 2009. We're definitely going to find out the sex of the baby, and that appointment is on January 12th, so after January 12th please feel free to start buying lots of cute baby things for me that are gender appropriate. LOL.

The only real pregnancy side effect that I am feeling at this time is I am tried... Like CRAZY tired...it feels like I could sleep for days upon days and be a happy little camper. Come 8pm at night I am struggling to keep my eyes open and since Michael tends to be somewhat of a night owl and has a hard time going to bed before 10pm, I am struggling to stay awake and coherent and capable of maintaining an understandable conversation with my better half. I usually end up losing the battle and fall asleep on his lap on the couch way before then or he talks me into going to bed to watch TV and I make a quarter of the TV show and I am out like a light. Thank goodness Michael records the shows for me to watch later when I am not in a comatose state. Other than becoming a living zombie, I am handling the first 3 months of pregnancy like a champ.

I bought the book, "What to expect when your expecting" and to tell you the truth, I've set it down already because it frankly scares the living shit out of me!! Basically, in a nut shell, all that book as told me so far is that I am not going to shit for weeks on end, I am going to cry at the drop of a hat, I am going to get crazy fat along with stretch marks to boot, if I eat anything that isn't in the specified pregnancy diet that I am a horrible mother for poisoning my fetus, and that there is a possibility that my nose may get gigantic. And even with all the books negativity it somehow attempts to place a positive spin on everything. "Don't worry that one day you'll be sitting down to take a pee and you notice that your pretty little hoo-hoo is the size of a Macys Thanksgiving Day float, that's just blood flowing to your vaginal region preparing you for labor" My hoo-hoo is going to blow up like a balloon??? I can tell you what the day that happens I am not really sure what the hell I am going to do but I sure as hell am not going to look at it positively that's for damn sure! Ok.. so MAYBE I am being a little dramatic here, but that's really all I've gathered from my readings. So I set the book on my nightstand and I am waiting for the evening I get brave again and pick it up to read about the other horrors I am going to be facing during this "joyous" time in my life.

I am starting to get a little emotional, which I am sure Michael is just going to love. Michael isn't one of those men who takes a look at a crying woman and stops everything until everything is ok... trust me... I've tried to cry to get my way with him and it hasn't worked once! My crying is powerless against his strong forces, this could also be because he's 42 years old and is the only man in an office of about 30 or so women so he's seen quite a bit of crying in his days and doesn't budge one inch for a few tears. Anyways, I started to notice this random emotionalism last week. I wasn't feeling well, so I stayed home from work and decided to rent Sex and The City on Pay-Per-View since I hadn't seen it. At the part at the end where Big re-proposes to Carrie in the closet, I found myself choking up. Now, I wasn't a die hard Sex and the City fiend or anything who never missed one episode and had been secretly praying for Carrie Bradshaw and Big to live happily ever after and this was my emotional release that they could finally get their happy ending... No... I had seen episodes here and there over the years that I found pleasantly entertaining, but I wasn't a fanatic or anything, I didn't live and breath the show and it's characters. So why was I choking up at two fictitious beings standing in an amazing closet in New York City pledging their eternal commitment to one another??? Noooooo.... it couldn't be because I am growing a human being inside of me!! That ridiculous! So I brushed it off as not feeling well and being overtired and left it at that. So a few days later Michael and I are watching one of our favorite shows, Still Standing. It's this great sitcom that was cancelled a few years back but it's getting its second chance at its glory days by having it's reruns played daily on Lifetime, it's really funny and Michael and I quite enjoy it, you should watch it sometime if you have the chance. Anyways, in this particular episode the oldest son Brian is going to be going off the college, so the parents aren't upset at all about him leaving, so they decide they are going to change his bedroom into a Master Suite for themselves. So at the end of the show when Brian leaves for college and they start moving stuff in his bedroom so they can make their Master Suite, they move a dresser and behind the dresser is a little drawing Brian had made when he was a kid and it was of a little stick figure family looking all happy at their house and then it finally hit his parents that he was all grown up and moving away from home. Oh My God.. you would have thought somebody told me that they ran over my cat... I started bawling.... and I don't know why. It's not like I am a parent who has a teen kid who's close to moving away or anything.... hell... I am still growing my kid as we speak so I shouldn't be crying over something like this.... well... I was. I was crying over a cheesy Lifetime sitcom like a friggin baby. Needless to say, I then realized that I am definitely experiencing the unnecessary over emotionalism that comes with pregnancy at this point.

I've also come to realize that after almost 26 years of life, I am incapable of peeing in a cup. During the past month of so, I've had to pee in a cup a few times during Doctors appointments and not one of these times have I been able to accomplish this without peeing on my hand or all over the toilet seat or worse, not putting the lid on the cup tight enough and having it spill in the bio-hazard bag. Seriously, you should have seen the look on the nurses face when I handed her my bag filled of urine. I am sure she was probably cursing me all the way to the lab.. or better yet, the lab technician who got stuck with my bag of pee was probably cursing me even more. Hmmm I'd say maybe I should practice in between appointments but that's just downright strange... I am hoping in the next 6 months I'll manage to make it in the cup with little to no difficulties... but we'll see... I wouldn't place any bets on it.

Pumpkin Penne Pasta with a side of cat nip on a bed of fabric softener.

So it's been a little over a month since I last wrote on here. I haven't been procrastinating, I just really haven't had anything going on to write about, so I thought I'd give you all a little update as to the happenings in my life.

Michael and I have been living together for a month and actually things are going very smoothly. We've divided our chores equally between one another and it's really working out. Of course you've read in my previous posts about my profound hatred for laundry, so obviously Michael has taken on that task. I tell you what, my laundry has never smelled fresher and never been so bright, I don't know what that man does to my spin cycle... but Wow... I am impressed. He tries to explain to me his try-ed and true method of professional laundry, but it goes in one ear and out the other with me. I just take my nice wrinkle free and fresh clean clothes, hung so neatly in my closet out and take a whiff and say, "That's nice dear" ... Wow... I sounded like a man just there didn't I?? Either way, next time you see me, you'll be amazed at how bright my clothes are looking these days, all because of my fella. Ohh and please try not to give him too much hack over being a laundry efficienato, it might damage his manly reputation. Ohhh hell.. what man in America's "manly reputation" ISN'T at stake when his wife or girlfriend fires up the Blogger.Com or Myspace and starts sharing their humorous, yet private moments for all her girlfriends to see or posts pictures of their man in an apron whipping up some brownies??? I think men are used to this by now.

Aside from Michael's laundry duties he has now become the new parent to P-Kitty. Yes, my fat cat has taken quite a liking to Michael and it seems the feeling is mutual. I walk in the front door, that cat doesn't give me the time of day anymore! Mind you I saved her from the streets of Riverside 6 years ago, and gave her a home, and fed her and cleaned her cat box, despite my gag reflex when it comes to animal feces... or ANY feces for that matter, cleaned up her hairballs... Yes... I have given that cat quite a good life. If you have any doubts all you have to do is take a look at her gut, which is now starting to drag the ground as she walks. Apparently she doesn't like to exercise after her 25 meals a day... go figure! I decided a few months back, that she needed to go on a diet and she's hated me ever since. I fear I will wake up in the middle of the night with my cat standing over me with a cat nip mouse in one paw and a kitchen knife in the other paw to rid the world of my hateful cat dieting techniques. You think I am joking.. I am not.

Anyways, Michael has now become her new best friend. Despite the fact that on Fridays when I am at work and Michael has the day off that they lounge in bed and watch the news and the Nascar qualifying, or that now Michael is trying to teach her tricks with a red ribbon he found underneath my bathroom sink and a vehicle antenna that he make-shifted into some toy, that my cat finds thrilling. Nevermind the fact that she has an ENTIRE spare bedroom filled with cat nip mice and little furry things attached to strings... NOOO.. that's not good enough.. she likes Michael's toys better. Aside from there sleeping in and "America's Greatest Cat" training, they now share lunch together... Yes.. the fat cat that's belly drags the ground that is SUPPOSED to be on a diet, is being fed tuna when I am not around. Michael walks into the kitchen to whip himself up a tuna sandwich, and then takes the can and leaves a few pieces in it for P-Kitty and places it on the ground in the kitchen for her to eat. Ohhhh yeah.... she's not spoiled at all right?? Now, because of their little lunch sharing game, that cat has become a monster. Everytime I am in the kitchen she starts meowing at me, like I am going to reach into the cabinet and grab her a can of tuna. She also has a ear for the opening of a can. Now, I don't have an electric can opener or anything, I have an old fashion open a can by hand doohickey that takes 45 years to open a can of soup. I could be in the kitchen with the TV blasted, stereo on, water running and the cat could be upstairs asleep and as soon as she hears me opening a can, man that fat ass cat is down the stairs in 1.4 seconds flat meowing at my feet hoping I am going to give her some tuna. So of course, I don't because she's supposed to be on a diet and then I look like the bad guy. So I am sure, since today is Friday, that as we speak Michael is standing in our kitchen, watching my cat enjoy a can of tuna while telling her, "let's not tell your mom about this". Michael also decided that she needed a little cat playhouse, so he bought her the Mercedes model of all cat playhouse at Petsmart... Unbelievable!! Yeah.. buddy... you may be on that cat's good graces NOW... but just wait till Christmas time rolls around this year and YOU have to be the one to throw out her Christmas tree.. yeah the gloves will with off then and it doesn't matter how many cans of tuna you bribe that cat with, she's going to have it out for you again.. you just wait!!

So one of my little duties is I cook everynight, a well balanced meal, so Michael can have it for lunch the next day. Since we both don't like to eat late and Michael doesn't get home from work till almost 7:30 or 8 o' clock, we don't really eat dinner, but I make sure he has a good lunch for the next day. Now I actually enjoy cooking and I love to experiment with new recipes I read about in Everyday with Rachael Ray or see on the Food Network. I actually have done pretty good most of the time and Michael hasn't complained once... except for what I like to call the disaster of the Pumpkin Penne Pasta. I got the Fall edition of Everyday with Rachael Ray and she had this recipe for a Penne Pasta in a Pumpkin Cream Sauce. It looked sooooooo good and I had try my hand at it. I went to the grocery store for the week to grab everything for Michael's lunches and had the ingredients included for the Penne with Pumpkin Cream sauce. One of the ingredients called for pure pumpkin puree, which I couldn't seem to find. I walked up and down every isle at Stater Bros. and alas no pure pumpkin puree. So I finally find something close in the baking isle, that is a can on pumpkin pie mix, so I figure that's got to be what the recipe was calling for right?? WRONG!!!! I went home and started chopping up my parsley and sauteing my onions and boiling my penne and excitedly working on my little fall creation dinner. So I mix together the pumpkin cream sauce, which included a can of pumpkin pie mix as opposed to pure pumpkin puree and go to take a taste.... good God almighty it was disgusting. It tasted like somebody dropped a pumpkin pie onto to some noodles and garnished it with parsley and onions. By far the worst thing I think I ever tasted. But... did I throw it away?? Nope... I packed it in Tupperware for Michael to have for lunch the next day! Hey... I am not an evil person.. in all fairness, he took a taste and said it tasted good and he would have it for lunch the next day, it was obvious he was just being nice. So the next day I get my usual text message from him after lunch but this time it was just complimenting me on my grilled asparagus I made for his side dish, apparently the next day wasn't took kind to my Penne with Pumpkin Cream Sauce. So... lesson of the day, NEVER substitute pure pumpkin puree for pumpkin pie mix.... the end result isn't quite the same.

2 whole weeks

Last I wrote, Michael was going to be moving in with me, and here we are.... we've made it two whole weeks living under the same roof and we have refrained from killing one another up to this point. I think maybe it's still "new" at this stage in the game, because I actually sometimes find myself forgetting that he's living with me now, as crazy as that sounds. I am so used to us really only seeing one another on the weekends, so during the weeknights, when he'd get off work, we'd talk on the phone about his day and my day and all that stuff, then he'd go home to his house and do his own thing and I'd be at my house doing my own thing... good night... talk to you in the morning. Well now.... he comes home to me, and I sometimes forget that, so when he gets off work we talk about our days and then he comes home to me.... and I realize that we pretty much covered everything that we needed to talk to one another about on the phone... "so..... ummm.... hi.... how's it going..... ummmm.... you hungry??? ok.... let's go to bed....." LOL... and the funny thing... I am not complaining about that. It's kind of nice just to kick it, and not say too much and just relax after a long day at work.

I've also got into the habit of cooking dinner at night to have for lunch the next day. (I know that sounds crazy... but I don't like to eat at night... at least anything really heavy.... so I make a dinner put it in tupperware and have it for lunch the next day) So every night I come home from work I create a nice little balanced meal to send Michael off with for lunch the next day... AND... he EVEN is kind enough to bring my tupperware back home and he even sends me a thank you text telling me how delicious lunch was. Now... he may just be *saying* lunch is good as to not hurt my feelings.... but either way... he's being polite enough to show his gratitude. He's even back to *attempting* to make the bed every morning... some mornings it doesn't quite get made... but most of the time it is... so I think that shows a good effort on his part. Like I said before... I think the "newness" is still there and we're both being polite but I anticipate it won't be long before I am on here complaining about his dirty socks or how I have no tupperware left because he leaves it all at work... or better yet... he starts complaining that I don't make him stuff for lunch anymore or I am wrinkling his shirts again... LOL... I guess it works both ways. We'll see how long the "bliss" lasts.... LMAO... Any bets on how long that'll take???

A New Adventure Begins

I like to look at my life like it's a series of different little adventures. Maybe it's because an "adventure" seems more thrilling and exciting rather than an "obligation" or "life progression" even. I guess by placing the label of "adventure" on to something it makes me excited and giddy and ready for something new. So instead of embracing a life change as just a life change, I am embracing it with the ferocity that one would have if they were climbing the side of a mountain or white water rafting... well... at least I'd like to think of it that way. So my new "adventure" you ask.... moving in with my boyfriend. Wow.... I must tell you that I have never lived with a boyfriend before, so that in itself is bound to be as challenging as climbing the side of that damn mountain or white water rafting...LOL

Today marks the day that Michael will "officially" be moving into my house. We've been an "official" couple going on... let's say... 11 months now?? I think it's somewhere around there... Anyways, so we're just short of a year in the relationship department and we're taking that next "big step". It's going to be real interesting because, I've never lived with a significant other before AND it's been a good 10 years or so since Michael last lived with a significant other, so I guess you could say it's probably going to take some adjustment.... strike that... ALOT of adjustment.

We had a little bit of practice in the whole "living together" department, although... it didn't exactly pan out how'd I thought it would. Michael was living in Lake Elizabeth and working in Lancaster, so that is about an hour and 40 minutes away from me. When we got together, he would just start staying with me on the weekends from Thursday night sometimes till Monday morning, and then an occasional weeknight, depending on his work load. It all started off well to be honest with you. I'd come home on Monday nights after work and see that he had left that morning after making the bed, and leaving me a little gooshy lovey dovey note about how much he was going to miss me during the week. Cute right? I thought so! Then the relationship progressed and as a wonderful girlfriend I was, I offered to take some pressure and weight off his shoulders, by just telling him to leave his laundry at my house during the week and I'd wash it for him, so he wouldn't have to spend an entire night at home doing all his laundry... Sweet right? Again.. I thought so! So as time progressed a little more I'd come home on Monday nights to the bed not being made, but yet still a sweet little note telling me how much he was going to miss me... Ok.. So I guess that makes up for the unmade bed and the few shirts and pants he left for me in a pile on the floor... Afterall... I was the one who offered to take on the domestic task. So the relationship progressed a little bit more and I'd come home on a Monday night to find the unmade bed, no lovey dovey note and his dirty clothes spread all over my entire bedroom and I was finding myself doing laundry EVERY night of the week with my stuff along with his stuff.... THEN.. the breaking point... he comes to my house one night, pulls a shirt out of the closet that *I* washed and *I* hung up in *MY* closet for *HIM* and *HE* has the audacity to say, "What happened to this shirt, it's all wrinkled, I don't like the way you do my laundry!" I was effin FURIOUS!!!!!!!

I hate laundry, despise it actually, if I had the money and could afford to just go buy new clothes everyday as opposed washing the existing ones, I'd do it in a heartbeat. The whole process of sorting, washer, dryer, taking them out of the dryer so they don't wrinkle, hanging them up and folding them just so you can do it all over again in a day or 2 makes me want to put a gun barrel to my head. In fact, I am prone to waiting to the last possible minute to do my laundry, I'll wear every pair of underwear and every piece of clothing that I have before I break down and actually do the laundry. That usually results in overly filled loads that prompt my washing machine to start making funny noises and dancing out of it's spot in the little laundry closet, in fact it's so bad that my cat will sit at the back sliding glass window with her ears pinned back, I think she thinks that one of these days that sucker is going to break through the wall. Anyways, because I hate laundry so much, I am notorious for leaving my clothes to sit in the dryer for a day or so, and since my wardrobe consists mainly of clothes whose fabric doesn't wrinkle easily(I do THAT for a reason) I don't really have to be worried about them getting wrinkled. But, enter a man's wardrobe which consists mostly of t-shirts or cotton collared shirts, they are going to get a little wrinkled sitting in that dryer for a while... Ooooopssss..... my bad!

So why, you ask did I offer to be little Miss Suzy Laundry Maid for my boyfriend if I despise it so horribly?? Who freakin knows!!! I was trying to be the sweet and domestic woman who'd do her man's laundry for him to make his life easier.. and it didn't exactly work out. All that was accomplished was that I had grown to developing that twitching jaw every Monday night when I walked into my bedroom to find the array of dirty underwear and stained t-shirts and pants carelessly thrown all over, with my unmade bed that the sheets and pillows are all thrown about, with part of the mattress showing, and no little lovey dovey notes.... Oh my god... I was starting to feel like a married woman... who'd been married for 10 years! So... what do you suppose happened that blessed evening when Michael takes his wrinkled t-shirt out of the closet and points out that he's not happy with my laundry duties??? Well after I ripped the shirt out of his hand and told him where he could stuff it, he started taking his laundry home with him every Monday morning and doing it on his own again.

So, starting tonight, I will be going home to Michael every single night and waking up to him every single morning, so everything in between if going to be a hell of an experience. All kidding aside, I really am looking forward to living with him and learning how to grow even more as a couple, I guess so long as I don't do have to do his laundry, I think we might be just fine.

Looking Forward to the Leaves Changing Their Colors

I remember back in the day, I dreaded the impending doom of Fall. September meant going back to school, having homework to do every night, the days getting shorter, tans starting to fade and having to follow the rules. Lately, however, as I have gotten older, I have really grown quite fond of the Fall and Winter months, in fact, with September just a week away, I am really finding myself getting excited for the change in the seasons!

I guess the summer for me, as an adult, has always meant tons of "obligations" and less "just me" time. From the time March hit this year, I kid you not, I have been on the go every single weekend since then. The weeks are filled with the humdrum of working all day long, playing catch up with laundry and cleaning and gym responsibilities on the week nights and the weekend meant having to run from one place to the next in order to appease everybody and not appear like a social disgrace. I know that sounds awfully cheesy, because too often people complain about not having social functions to attend to, but seriously, when it seems like you are constantly on the go, and not giving yourself the time to just relax, it essentially takes the fun out of everything.

Now, for everybody who knows me, you know that I tend to be somewhat of a " I need to know when and where" type of people. Maybe it's because I've always had a bunch of people always pulling me in different directions, that the knowledge of "what's going on" makes my whole life ALOT easier to plan around. Personally, I don't really like that. The idea of not having anything planned, and then waking up and deciding, "Hey... let's go here" or "Let's go do that" is really exciting to me. I like the idea of not having to be at any certain place at any certain time to do any certain thing, I have really grown to appreciate moments like these. Since Michael and I started dating last year, I have actually been on more of those spontaneous surprise trips or adventures than I have ever been in my 25 years of life. Unfortunately since about mid-March, our schedules and lives have become so insanely hectic and upside down and inside out 95% of the time, that we really haven't had an opportunity to take advantage of those moments.

Back in December, we woke up one Saturday morning grabbed some lunch and then decided to get in the car and drive to Prescott Arizona to visit his nephews and his sister in law, before Christmas. That trip is probably one of my favorite trips ever. We had so much fun! We spent the evening pounding some Jager in the local watering holes in the 20 degree weather, we spent the next day visiting with his amazing teenage nephews and his sister in law, and we even had a chance to take in a few of the historic sites before heading back home. It was last minute, it was unplanned and it was one of the greatest trips I've ever been on. I still think back to that weekend and smile at the memories of our adventure.

With all the responsibilities and obligations that seem to invade my life the older and older I get, particularly during the summer months, I find myself aching for the leaves to start changing colors, and the breeze to start getting crisp, and my life to gently slow down. Now, this may sound totally crazy, but it's not that I want to spend my life sitting at home in front of a television set getting fat and sassy on popcorn and Milk Duds and never getting out of my PJ's(although... sometimes a day like that just sounds fabulous) I actually have a list of TONS of things I'd like to do... but the only difference is that it's things I'd *LIKE* to do, as opposed to things I *HAVE* to do... see the difference? I have a list of things that I can pick and choose from anytime that I want and if a weekend at home cuddled up on the couch, getting fat and sassy seems more enticing than a weekend picking apples in Oak Glen, then so be it.

Rookie Status- Can I Follow Through?

Well, paint my ass yellow and call me a rookie! I have finally decided, thanks to Kim and Hannah whose Blogs I enjoy on a weekly basis, to create my very own Blog... YAY!!! It's not like I don't chatter enough with the verbal word, but I've now decided to create a blog to chatter with the written word. The wonderful part about about a Blog though, is if somebody gets tired of what your saying, there are no interruptions or people challenging what you are saying.. Nope.. if they don't like what you are saying, or get bored with your ramblings they can just close the web browser!!

So my intention with this Blog is I'd like to use it weekly, or even daily if I feel like it, to update my friends and family on the happenings in my sometimes hectic, sometimes like a Lifetime Original Movie, sometimes disastrous, but ALWAYS an adventure of a life. Hopefully I can actually follow through with this Blog, but..... If this ends up being the only post you see, you'll know that I didn't follow through like I had originally planned. In a perfect world, I am hoping to have weekly blogs equipped with pictures and all that jazzy stuff, but.... we'll see. I've said for 5 months that I was going to start taking up scrap-booking, but I've yet to actually buy a scrapbook to even start on.... so hopefully this will pan out much better than my scrapbook idea.

Yesterday I was admiring the scrapbook that my brother's girlfriend Alex started on a mere 5 days ago.. Wow.... I was soooo impressed with that little masterpiece that she says, "Isn't even close to being done". In 5 days she managed to put 9 months of her and my brother's year and a half long relationship on these beautifully decorated pages. There were movie tickets, brochures, menus, even parking passes from essentially EVERYTHING they had done together as a couple and they were strategically arranged on these bright pieces of paper with all these cute stickers and decorations surrounding the pictures of their happy smiling faces! I was really impressed! Of course I immediately got inspired and asked her if she'd help me start one of my own because I had been talking about doing one, but... of course.. NEVER FOLLOWED THROUGH with it!

It amazes me sometimes. I am often told I am a very creative person, in fact, I know I am a very creative person. You can ask me to sit down and write an article or a short story, or better yet and more fitting, a racing press release and I could come up with something amazing and dazzling in less than 10 minutes without even trying. But, somehow when it comes to actually putting my creative energy to work, I don't exactly produce the greatest and well... lets be honest here, FINISHED results! I am pretty sure that if I was actually productive with all these creative juices that flow through me... hell... I'd probably have a lot of things to be proud of! I bet my house would just be awesome and well decorated with recent pictures on my walls, maybe even a cute little patio scene going on on my porch.... geez maybe even a herb garden of some sorts. I'd even settle for a plant that I could keep alive for more than 2 months! I know I'd have updated photo albums, so that when I am 85 years old and covered with grand children, I have SOMETHING to show them of my life, as opposed to busting out a computer and showing them my Myspace..... That's it... I'll be 85 years old and still have a Myspace showing pictures of me rockin' some Bingo at the old folks home.... sticking my tongue out and throwing the horns when I've had a bit too much Geritol and I feel like busting out of my girdle and shaking that prosthetic hip like it's no one else's business... YEAH BUDDY!!!

Funny thing, looking at Alex's scrapbook it dawned on me, it takes a lot of time to do something like that. Not just to cut out the little sayings and pictures and pasting them on the pages of the album, but actually getting digital photos printed on photo paper and grabbing those little, what seem to be insignificant to most people, but very much significant, items of memorabilia to accompany those Kodak moments. You know I look back to my first real relationship and I used to save stuff like that constantly and I kept them in a little shoe box, which found it's way to a dumpster not too long after the relationship ended. I had saved everything; flowers he had given me, which I had dried out and pressed to save forever, little cards he had written out to me, old movie tickets, receipts from outings we had gone to... you name it I saved it and for no other reason than just being "sentimental".

Sadly, I don't really do that anymore. Me, the freakin pack rat that I am, that manages to save every phonebook that's placed on my doorstep, every coupon that comes in the mail from Bed Bath and Beyond, that has long ago expired, that I swore I was going to use when I initially got it, every bottle of lotion or perfume that I know I will never wear or use because the scent disgusts me but think I should keep "just in case".... Yes... THAT person can't seem to hold on to a few movie tickets or take an extra second out of my day, while in a new place, to grab a map or brochure or even a freakin cocktail napkin that I rest my drink on, to put on the pages of a scrapbook validating that I was in FACT there and that my photos aren't just a product of photoshop.

Maybe I am just too damn impatient. Maybe that's what the problem is. I have all this steam and all this energy when THINKING about the idea of doing something, but when it comes to actually doing it and it miraculously doesn't just appear before my pretty little face at that exact moment, I get impatient and then don't follow through. What a concept right? "I want it now.. butttttt... I don't want to put any of the labor into making it happen, I just want it to happen right now!" Ahhhhh the story of my spoiled little life! LOL

So as of this moment I am making a vow, somewhat of a New Years Resolution about 9 months too late. I am going to actually start things I talk about starting and I am actually going to FINISH them once I start them! What a novel idea! Why hasn't anybody thought of that before?? LOL! I am also NOT going to get so damn impatient when I don't get what I want, and then give up before giving it a chance to take shape.... and I mean this in ALL aspects of my life. Hey, I may be 25 years old and "technically" considered an adult... but I still have a little bit of growing up to do.... and I am working on it.... :-)