Monthly Archive

The last leg of my commute is a stretch of I-95. I don’t usually think too much about it as I’m almost at work and the drive is pretty straight forward.

The other day I was on this stretch and got in the left lane to pass a tractor trailer.  As I moved over, I slowed down slightly since there was a Volvo in front of me and we were going around a curve.

Thank goodness I slowed down.

All of the sudden there was a huge BANG! as the truck’s rear tire exploded. In between the cloud of smoke and flying rubber (part of which slammed into my mirror), I was able to make out the rear of the truck veering into my lane.

Oh my God.

Instinctively, the Volvo in front of me slammed on their brakes, which left me with three options: get hit by truck, slam into the Volvo while getting hit by the truck, or move over as far to the left as I could without hitting the guard rail.

I chose option three.

As my car rode precariously along the shoulder, my side mirror just inches from the guard rail, the truck’s tail end wove in and out of the space between me and the Volvo before the driver was able to regain control and pull over. If I hadn’t slowed down during my initial pass, I probably wouldn’t be here.

It all happened so quickly that I didn’t even have time to do anything but react. It wasn’t until I got off my exit that I noticed my hands were shaking.

This morning as I drove by that very spot, I noticed a set of tread marks veering off to the left. A set of tread marks that are dangerously close to leading a car head-first into a tree.

Those are my tread marks.

I am truly thankful that I am able to drive by those marks today, as a reminder to be careful, to be cautious and to not take anything for granted.

Thank goodness I slowed down.

The wedding was beautiful. The church was sweltering, but I completely forgot how hot I was as the bride and groom began their vows. Even the non-criers in the crowd were blinking back tears and when Michael reached out and squeezed my hand, I knew it had hit him too.

I don’t really remember much about the singing. It was almost an out of body experience  because my heart was pounding and before I knew it the song was over. But, I got lots of compliments so I guess it went well.

And now, picture time! Yay! Here’s the first dance. I have never seen her look as happy or as beautiful as she did that day. They are so cute!

When we got to the reception, we all decided to take a lot of “before” pictures. Before we were all tipsy and sweaty from dancing. It was probably a good idea.

Me and Michael before:

Little Black Dress ladies and the bride:

Dancing:

Blue drinks…

…make blue tongues.

Me and Michael After:

Definitely time to call it a night!

There are three dresses hanging in the front of my closet. Each one was bought specifically to wear to the wedding. The wedding that in 28 hours from now I will be singing at. Yikes!

Each dress that I bought had issues. The first one is so cute (green and white) but in the end, too casual. The second fits me perfectly, accents my figure and is sleeveless, but not strapless, so finding a bra was not an issue. The problem is that while the top part is black, the skirt part is white. Even after talking to the bride about it (who gave me a thumbs up), I didn’t feel comfortable wearing that much white to the wedding if I wasn’t the bride.

So, dress number three. Which is the perfect little black dress. With the perfect little black (patent leather, open-toe, slingback) shoes. I feel beautiful in it. I am hoping the feeling will carry over and give me the confidence I need when I’m singing in front of 220 people.

I will also be wearing waterproof mascara, because I’m sure I will tear up as they say their vows, both happy for them and picturing the day I will be saying them to Michael.

Have a wonderful long weekend…I’ll post pictures on Tuesday! 

Last night my office attended a banquet at Foxwoods. This was my second one and I couldn’t help but to enjoy the open bar and great food. This banquet was better than last year’s because this time around I actually knew people. Last year I had been on the job for almost a month and knew no one.

But last night was fun. All the food stations had miniature servings that while cute (and delicious–macaroni and cheese with lobster and truffles!) were deceiving. You brain definitely thinks you can eat more when everything is tiny.

But perhaps my favorite part of the night was bonding with fellow coworkers over some of the really weird things.

Cowboy hats. On a man and woman couple. In Connecticut. At a banquet. And the woman, who had hair down to her butt and was wearing an outfit comprised completely of shades of lilac, had a matching lilac scrunchy and cowboy hat. Lilac Cowboy Hat. Matching scrunchy. Wow.

Before the dinner there was a presentation in which two men accepted gifts. The first man handed over his gift to the other and then shook hands. After the handshake, one man pulled the other in for a typical man hug, you know, the one arm pat on the back kind. The pull-er was obviously into it, but the pull-y? Not so much. It was brief…and then it was time for the pull-y to present the pull-er with his gift.

One would think that a handshake would be sufficient for accepting this gift, but no! The pull-er was at it again! This time the pull-y was obviously thinking, “dude! Seriously?” but because he was in front of such a large group he had to go in for the hug. Awkward man hug #2, as he was most definitely not digging it.

The three of us that were sitting together, perhaps a little light headed from our drink on an empty stomach, found this hilarious.

Good times.

Remember yesterday how I told you I make piles of things? It’s not an lie, I really do. It’s bad. Up until yesterday there was a pile of dishes waiting to go in the dishwasher, there is a pile of catalogs and magazines on the ottoman, and quite possibly the worst pile ever known to man is currently residing on top of the dresser in our bedroom.

The first thing I do when I get home is change out of my work clothes. And usually the pants or skirt or sweater I’m wearing can be worn again before having to be washed. While I know I should just go hang it up, I procrastinate and lay it on the dresser for later. I have the best intentions of “later” being before I go to bed, but that never happens.

What happens instead is an enormous pile of clothes (both mine and Michael’s, but really mostly mine) mixed with bras, necklaces and whatever else has been tossed aside for the day. It’s a mess. A huge mess.

Michael HATES the mess. And while he’s mostly tolerant of my “I’ll get to it, I swear!” promises, he’s been bugging me about it lately because it really has taken over the entire dresser, making it impossible to find anything.

This morning his tolerance ran out.

He had to work at six, and had probably over slept as he was rushing around trying to get ready. I woke up to the sounds of him moving things around and grumbling under his breath. I stayed still and pretended to still be sleeping because I knew The Pile was the cause of his angst.

And when his attempt to get into his sock drawer caused The Pile to begin to fall, he’d had enough.

He dumped an entire laundry basket’s worth of clean laundry onto my sleeping body. And went to work.

After he left (and I managed to burrow out from beneath the mountain of laundry) I actually laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. Then I vowed I would clean up the pile.

I’ll get to it. I swear!

1. I was born on New Year’s Eve. I was three weeks early and weighed just over five pounds.
2. I started playing piano when I was five and the violin when I was in fourth grade.
3. I don’t currently have a piano and I miss it every single day. I would watch far less TV if I had a piano.
4. In high school I was part of a touring orchestra. We visited Australia, New Zealand, Tahiti and the Cook Islands.
5. I had my first beer on the trip. My friend and I bought a Fosters and split it. Well, what was left of it. After being carried in her backpack all day it basically exploded when we opened it.
6. In addition to that trip, I’ve been to 12 other countries.
7. I started dancing when I was three and was in toe shoes by nine.
8. I switched from classical ballet to modern dance when I was 14. It completely changed my life.
9. My first boyfriend was in preschool. His name was Andrew and he wore Burt and Ernie slippers.
10. He came to my birthday party and brought me a Jem rocker Barbie.
11. I am awesome at Friend’s trivia. My friends will never play with me because I always win.
12. Two coworkers have challenged me to a game, but we’ve yet to play.
13. If I never had to worry about weight, I would eat grilled cheese sandwiches every day.
14. Washed down by a milkshake.
15. My first real kiss was in the 8th grade. He kissed me in the hallway after last period and a few seconds into it I felt a tap on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and was face to face with the vice principal. He threatened us with detention if we didn’t leave right away. It took me almost a whole week to kiss him again.
16. Incidentally, he broke up with me the day of our 8th grade picnic.
17. No matter how hard I try, I can’t control clutter. I make piles of thing…clothes, dishes, magazines…but it takes me forever to actually put them away.
18. Once in elementary school my friend and I decided to play “moving to California”. We moved every single thing in my room (except the bed) to one side of the room.
19. Then we sprinkled baby powder over everything to pretend it had snowed.
20. When we got in trouble, she threw a tantrum and didn’t help me clean up.
21. On average I buy a pair of shoes a month. Sometimes two.
22. If I’m not wearing heels I don’t feel put together.
23. If I could keep up on it, I would always have a french manicure.
24. I don’t mind if Michael works late on Fridays. Yummy food + What Not To Wear = happy me.
25. The only bones I’ve ever broken were toes.
26. The worst was when someone wearing motorcycle boots stepped on my bare foot.
27. In high school I worked at CVS. I started as a cashier and moved up to a photo tech.
28. Much like in a hospital, those who wore the white coats (photo techs) were respected more.
29. I accidentally stole an eyeliner when I worked there. I was stocking and put it in my smock while I did something else. I didn’t realize until I got home that I had left the store with it.
30. I kept it and used it.
31. I secretly wish I could rap.
32. It all started with a Jay-Z CD a friend gave me in high school.
33. I know all the lyrics to Ludacris’ “Money Maker”. I’m oddly proud of that.
34. When I was 18 I was prepared to go to college as a dance major.
35. Even though I got in, I couldn’t afford my first choice school. The school I went to didn’t have a dance major so I chose journalism instead.
36. Now I’m a publicist. I think it was a wise choice.
37. My mom is a breast cancer survivor. She’s been cancer free for nearly five years, but I still worry every day it will return.
38. As cliche as it sounds, she is my hero and the strongest woman I know.
39. I’ve always been a long-term relationship person. I dated my high school boyfriend for four years and just passed the five year mark with Michael.
40. Sometimes I wish Michael and I will have a big family just so we can have picnics.
41. People always tell me I look like Cate Blanchett. I don’t see it at all.
42. I have a tiny scar next to my eye from when I was bit by a dog as a child.
43. Her collar got tangled in my overalls and she got scared. If she had bit just an eight of an inch over, she would have gotten my eyeball.
44. I started coloring my hair in 6th grade. It’s been all shades of red, brown and blonde.
45. Including an awful self-coloring mistake that left it a weird shade of gold.
46. My first concert was Matchbox 20.
47. I caught the guitar pick that was thrown into the audience, but a big girl stole it from me.
48. My friend jumped on her back and yelled at her to give it back to me.
49. She didn’t.
50. I can’t get on board with Amy Winehouse. I’m sorry, I just can’t.
51. Growing up, both my mom and dad and hair down to their waists. I was a hippy baby that wore tie-dye and bandannas.
52. My family can’t understand how I grew up so “straight” and girly.
53. They don’t wear tie-dye anymore either.
54. I make up songs and sing them to the dog.
55. His favorite is the Beef Song.
56. I was team Aniston.
57. I rowed crew for two years in high school.
58. I was in the best shape of my life, but hated 5 a.m. practices.
59. Especially when it was sleeting.
60. I want to visit Ireland, Greece and Asia.
61. I drive a Honda, but my dream car is an Audi.
62. I will never drive a minivan.
63. If I ever got plastic surgery it would be liposuction on my thighs.
64. Reading chic lit is a guilty pleasure.
65. My freshman  year roommate and I bonded over watching a Discovery Channel show on the U.S. Mint.
66. When I was 17 my friend and I were paid to be go-go dancers for a 50th birthday party.
67. We wore vinyl dresses, wigs and fake eyelashes.
68. It wasn’t creepy, we just danced on stage all night.
69. I have a serious sweet tooth.
70. My indulgences are chocolate and ice cream.
71. My emotions read all over my face. I have to be careful, I’ve been known to give some really dirty looks.
72. I have small eyes and a big mouth.
73. I always wear eyeliner.
74. I never wear lipstick.
75. My sister has big eyes and a small mouth.
76. I hate that commercial for anti-fungus medication where the fungus lifts up the toenail.
77. I think it’s absolutely repulsive.
78. In 10th grade I chopped off my hair and dyed it platinum blonde.
79. It was because Claire Danes did it and I thought it looked cool.
80. Mine looked nothing like that.
81. Then in college my hair was super long.
82. It was mostly because I was a poor college student and couldn’t afford haircuts.
83. Michael likes my hair long.
84. My favorite drink is vodka.
85. I cannot drink tequila.
86. I hate vacuuming.
87. Especially since the dog is always shedding.
88. Actually, I don’t like doing laundry either.
89. I think I would like a maid.
90. My closest friends are some from my childhood and some from college.
91. It’s strange how the ones in between seemed to have slipped away.
92. If I won the lottery, among other things, I would have a walk-in closet just for shoes.
93. I have made some good friends through blogging.
94. One in particular that I talk to every day.
95. And some others that if we meet in person, I know it will be awesome.
96. My grandparents used to live in a condo complex that had a pool. When you opened the door to the women’s locker room there was a life-sized poster of Bon Jovi.
97. I think that was my first celebrity crush.
98. It didn’t last very long.
99. I’m not sure why the numbers are messed up.
100. But I don’t feel like messing around with it.

Yesterday we had brunch with our friends who just had their second baby. When we got there, the older son (21-months) was attached to his dad’s hip like a monkey. He was putting on the shy act and smooshing his face into his dad’s neck, then peeking around him to make sure we were still there.

As he warmed up his monkey qualities really came out and he climbed his father like a jungle gym and flipped and flopped all over the place. He’d reach out for me to hold him, which would be great for a few minutes, until he realized daddy wasn’t holding him and then he had to go back immediately. The interaction between the two of them was adorable.

After brunch I was snuggling the newborn (little feet! tiny hands! baby smell!) and Michael started playing with the older son. The kid was in heaven. He’d hide behind Michael and pull him backwards so Michael would “crush” him, then squeal and push him forward again. After that he was climbing all over him and couldn’t get enough of Michael flipping him over or tickling his feet. Michael was clearly having a great time and was laughing and smiling right along with the boy.

I was smitten all over again. I was completely blown away with how fantastic Michael was with him (not that I had any doubts), and once again my ovaries were doing a little happy dance. (Seriously, ovaries. NOT NOW.) Visions of our own little family flashed before my eyes and I had to look down at that tiny baby in my arms to hide the stupid grin that was spreading across my face.

He’s going to be a great dad. I cannot wait.

Michael’s birthday is tomorrow and he is so difficult. The man wants nothing. I went all out at Christmas and have pretty much exhausted my creative options, but I still managed to figure out something I know he will like. But I can’t tell you what it is because he reads this. I’m such a tease, I know.

I am taking him out for dinner tomorrow (he didn’t know that either, but he does now. Surprise, baby!) and later we will meet up with friends at one of our favorite bars. It should be a good time.

Sunday we are getting together with our friends who just had their second baby and I cannot wait to snack on some chubby baby thighs. And after that…to His Mother’s we go for a birthday dinner. This will be the first interaction we’ve had since the Talk and I’m not especially looking forward to it.

The grandmother is making an effort. She called me yesterday to tell me she had dropped a chocolate bar in the mail slot for me. I’ll take that as a peace offering.

Speaking of chocolate, a word to the wise: grocery shopping while hungry and hormonal will result in one thing. Brownies. Double chocolate chunk brownies, to be exact. They smelled so good while they were baking and I may have had a little piece with breakfast. I will completely ignore my thighs protests as I scarf it down during lunch.

As for the hair situation, I have decided to embrace it. When faced with rain, there is no winning. The half-poof plus headband look is actually working today. Yippee!

Let’s talk about hair. Specifically, my hair and what it is doing this week. Because this week? Has been humid. Very humid. Two days ago I was running late and didn’t have the time to blow dry and straighten, so I figured I would just let it air dry and pray that my waves looked nice.

They didn’t. So up in a ponytail it went. This morning I prepared to do my hair again and was faced with this: 

There’s probably a small child hidden in there somewhere, along with one of Kodiak’s toys and maybe a snack for later. My hair? Is big. And those pieces on the upper right? Are frizzy. Michael actually thinks it looks pretty, but he’s not the one that has to wrangle it into something I can actually leave the house with. Thank goodness for headbands.

Moving on…

Last night we attended our friend’s graduation from the fire academy. After everyone had arrived we noticed that nearly a third of the auditorium was filled with his friends. It was so nice to see everyone, especially friends who just over a week ago had their second baby.

After the ceremony I was playing with their 21-month old son. He’d stick out his leg for me to tickle, then laugh and laugh, then do it again. He was so adorable that my ovaries were jumping up and down singing “weeee!!!” until I told them to  be quiet, because no. Not now. (Incidentally, they are punishing me today with cramps. Owwwww.)

While wonderful, it was so strange to see this couple as parents of two children. The same couple we’d spend hours with laughing, drinking and being carefree. As they chased one son around the auditorium and held the other tiny peanut of a baby in their arms, I felt one of those defining grown-up moments.

Remember that Sex and the City episode where Carrie talks about her “secret single behavior”? (SSB) The things you do only by yourself and wouldn’t indulge in around a guy. I think Charlotte’s was staring at her pores and Carrie’s was eating peanut butter and crackers while standing up in the kitchen.

My SSB? I guess there’s some grooming, (because I’m sorry, but shaving your armpits is so not sexy…I’ll do that on my own time, thanks.) and the occasional Stouffer’s French Bread Pizza for dinner while I watch bad TV.

But I guess my true SSB would be two fold. First, when home alone, I sing. Loud. Lately it’s been practicing for my friend’s wedding (that’s in 10 days oh my God.) but often it’s singing along to the one and only Celine Dion. Yes, I admit it. I own her greatest hits CD. What of it? Love her or hate her, you’ve got to admit that woman can sing.

Secondly, and this should come as no surprise, I try on all my shoes. With various outfits. And stand in front of the full length mirror and stare at myself from every angle. I wouldn’t call it vanity, more like research. I store it all away in memory so I know which shoes look good with each pair of pants, skirt or dress.

I guess my secret is out now.

What’s your SSB?

“Molly, come upstairs for a second.”

“Why?”

“Just come up.”

***

He’s on his hands and knees in the closet looking for something, butt sticking up in the air.

***

“Come here. What is this?”

“You farted, didn’t you? I’m not coming over there. I can’t believe you called me up here so that I would walk into a wall of stink.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The dog is sniffing your butt.”

“Kodiak! You gave me away!”

Men. Seriously.

I love surprises. In high school my friends and family threw me a surprise party and I totally had no idea. It was awesome. My favorite Michael-surprise was during the first summer we were dating. He had dropped a friend off at Logan airport in Boston and called me on his drive back to Rhode Island. I was in New York at the time and was missing him something fierce. We chatted and then he casually asked if I had received the package he had sent. Apparently it was supposed to arrive that day.

Excited, I ran down the stairs and threw open the front door. I was momentarily disappointed when I realized there was no package on the doorstep. Until I looked up. And there was Michael, leaning against his truck smiling ear to ear. He had driven nearly four hours to spend the night. Best. Surprise. Ever.

Taking a cue from that wonderful day, I had arranged with my sister to surprise my mom for Mother’s Day. I called her during the week and told her to expect a package to arrive on Friday. Since her birthday and Mother’s Day are so close together, I told her I had sent her a gift.

I arrived in New York with just enough time to settle in before she got home from work. When we heard her opening the front door my sister ran to greet her and tell her that she had left a surprise in her bedroom. When my mom opened the door I was sitting on the bed smiling. She was so surprised! (So surprised, in fact, that for a split second she didn’t even recognize me!)

The weekend was filled with shopping, lounging and eating. It was perfect. We ended Saturday evening with making a potential guest list for my wedding. (Not my idea! Really!) The list from just our side was already huge and will probably have to be cut down after Michael’s mother makes her list. There was something so exciting, yet so terrifying about making that list. Exciting because wedding! I want! Terrifying because I can already see that planning a wedding is stressful.

Now there’s just that pesky matter of getting engaged. And I want more than anything for that to be a surprise, too. As much as I want to know, I really don’t want to know. I want it to come out of nowhere and catch me off guard. Michael knows this. And since he’s so good at surprises I have no doubt that when the time comes, it will be amazing.

- Apparently there are no Friendly’s in Texas and because of that, you cannot get a Fribble. Poor Crystall had no idea what I was talking about yesterday.

- Building things is really not my forte. When I got home last night Michael was out in the yard constructing new gates for the fence that circles the yard. He had no choice but to do it since Kodiak finally succeeded in weakening a section of the fence enough (by jumping up on it and barking at who knows what across the river) that it could be tipped over. Luckily it was Michael who discovered this and not the dog.

He had finished making the gates and now needed my help attaching them to the fence. Easier said than done. The gates did not line up correctly with the existing fence because of warping or something. Whatever the reason, it took us nearly an hour and half to get it in place. It definitely tried my patience. I was just about ready to turn around and chuck the whole thing in the river behind me when Michael turned to me and said, “Patience, please. PLEASE. I need your help with this and need. you. to. be patient.”

He had a beer after that. I wonder if I tried his patience.

- There is no point in fighting with my hair on days like this. Humidity plus my head equal frizz. End of story. I am currently rocking the curly halo. It’s cute. Really.

When Michael and I first started seeing each other we went on a date to Newport. I remember that night perfectly, from the dinner we shared overlooking the water to the walk through the Salve Regina campus.

It was early April and warmer than usual. That night the air was so thick with fog it almost felt like you could part it with your hand. We stood on the cliffs over the ocean, listening to the waves crash and watching the fog light up with lightening in the distance. That night is burned into my memory for many reasons, but mainly because it was the night I realized I loved him.

Last night we jumped in the car with the dog, already in our pajamas, and drove to Friendly’s for a Fribble. It was late and Main Street was quiet. Just like that night five years ago, the fog was heavy and thick. The street lamps cast orange globes of light into the sky and everything felt peaceful.

Later, as we drove by the ocean, quietly drinking our Fribbles, I thought back to that night in Newport and smiled.

When life gets busy and stressful, I am thankful for the vision of that night because it serves as a reminder of how wonderful life really is.

And how much I love him.

It’s only Wednesday and I am already feeling overwhelmed. Work has gotten very busy as we are entering the high season and I have been scrambling to get stuff done, all while being held up because the stuff I need isn’t being supplied to me on time. Anyone who knows me will tell you that if there’s one thing I’m anal about, it’s being on time. I hate being late. I arrived to both my first and second interview for this job a half hour early. Just in case. My boss actually saw me arrive but waited until the scheduled appointment time to greet me because I was so freaking early. It’s just the way I am.

But I can deal with that because I have control over it. Being early only inconveniences me. The problem is when I’m waiting on other people. When they’re late it makes my blood boil and stresses me out. I can’t help it. Needless to say, waiting for something I was supposed to have on Friday only made me angry. Especially when I get it on Wednesday afternoon. Anyway, moving on.

Tonight I am looking forward to relaxing and letting the stress from work melt away. Michael is off today and tomorrow and I couldn’t be happier. This past rotation had him working till 10 every night for the last four days. I don’t mind the time alone sometimes, but when it gets to be every night I get lonely. Especially since Kodiak would much rather play in the yard then spend the evening inside. I’m actually looking forward to cooking dinner because I’ll have someone to share it with and I can’t wait to just curl up on the couch and watch TV. It will be nice to spend more than an hour with him before falling asleep.

Now I have to run. Immediately. Did I mention I was swamped? I am. Ridiculously swamped. Bye!

I stopped at the ATM on Sunday and was shocked when my receipt printed. Where had all my money gone? As I drove I thought about what I had spent money on in the last month. Bills, groceries and gas. Essentials. But what else?

When I got home I logged on to my account and was hit with reality. I’ve been spending my hard earned money on crap. Mostly lunches with coworkers, weekends out and random stops at CVS, Starbucks and Marshalls. Almost as quickly as it was coming in, my money was flying right back out.

I started to go through all the stages: shock, denial, anger and finally, acceptance. I knew it was time to make a change.

I do save. I have a savings account with a good amount of money in it that I never touch and a 401k that is slowly building. But I know it has to be more than that. So today I begin the challenge of actually really saving. Beginning with a trip to Human Resources to ensure that a majority of my paycheck goes right into savings instead of my checking account. If it’s not at my fingertips, I’m not going to spend it.

Other goals include packing my lunch more often and not buying random stuff I don’t really need. Things like new hair products that promise volume! volume! volume! (they never live up to their claims anyway), trashy magazines and yet another item from HomeGoods. 

I have to work on changing the mentality that just because I have money now, I can spend it. I went from being a poor college student who struggled to pay the bills to gaining the freedom that comes with being employed at a real job with a real paycheck. I’ve taken advantage of it and spent without consequence. But it’s time to stop.

It’s time to be a grownup.

Wish me luck.

I’m a nice person, really, I am. And I appreciate nice, friendly people. Especially when they’re in the service industry. Because no one likes a rude waitress, right? But apparently there is such a thing as too friendly. As was evident with the waitress I encountered yesterday.

I met Sass for lunch at Bertucci’s and had just started reading my menu when “HI THERE! HOW ARE  YOU TODAY?”

I looked up to see where the LOUD VOICE was coming from and was met with the biggest grin I have ever seen from our waitress, who was wearing the scariest eyeliner I had ever seen. Sass had gone to the bathroom so I couldn’t even exchange a glance with her. Instead I replied, “good, thanks,” and expected to place my drink order. Except she wasn’t ready to take my order because,

“HOW WAS YOUR WEEKEND? WHAT DID YOU DO?”

Huh. Now this was odd. I was not expecting to have a conversation about my weekend plans with my waitress so I was completely taken off guard. “Um, not too much. Relaxed, you know…” I said as I leaned back in my chair. Not only was she loud, she was also a close-talker.

“OH YEAH! ME TOO! YOU KNOW, RELAXED, WORKED, STUFF! YOU KNOW?”

Like I said, I appreciate friendliness. I just appreciate it in much smaller doses.

And not so much right next to my face.

** A big thanks to Anna for pointing out Blogs of the Day. I never knew I made it to #28!

Referring to the man driving in front of us:

Michael: I wonder if he’s driving his wife’s car. That’s a very “female” vehicle. Although, maybe it is his. It does have a Raiders sticker on the bumper.

Me: That doesn’t matter. Women like hockey too.

Michael: Um, the Raiders are a football team…

–silence–

Me: OK then, not this woman. 

If you don’t have a dog currently, or have never had a dog, or are just not a dog person (hi Elle!), you might not find this story funny. But to me, it’s very funny…and shows just how smart these furry things can be.

Below you will see a picture of one of our living room couches, adorned nicely with some throw pillows, including the cute red ones Boobeski made for me. (Yes, she made them. Talent, I know!) You will also notice Kodiak sitting on the floor, giving the impression that he is a well behaved, good boy who is not the least bit sneaky.

Now some background: Kodiak is not allowed on the couch. He knows this and when we’re home he is always on the floor. It never even crossed our minds that when we weren’t home, it would be a different story.

One day Michael left for work but realized he forgot something. When he came back in the house he noticed Kodiak was not in any of his usual spots. He rounded the corner and there he was, lying on the left side of the couch with his head resting on the arm rest. Flabbergasted, Michael yelled, “Kodiak! No!” He was met with a withering stare that could only mean “What’s the problem? I lie here every day!”

After some thought we decided that there wasn’t much we could do about it. And since it’s a leather couch, we’ve never had any problems keeping it clean. Kodiak is smart about it though. He always jumps down before we come in the house. But we know he’s been there because of a warm cushion and throw pillows knocked haphazardly onto the floor. Every time we see the pillows on the rug we bring him over to them and say “No!” in the hopes that one day he’ll get it.

Turns out he’s a lot smarter than we thought. I came home from work the other day and Michael asked me why I had propped the red throw pillow up against the wall. I hadn’t. Why would I? He said he assumed I had since it was placed so neatly and gently, as if I moved it while straightening and forgotten to put it back.

Nope. Wasn’t me. Kodiak finally realized that pillows thrown on the floor are evidence. And when there’s evidence he gets yelled at. So he did what any smart “child” would do. He made it look like Mom did it.

He also only moved the one throw pillow that was in the way of his coveted left side spot. Tricky, tricky.

“Wasn’t me, guys. See? I’m cute.”

Gah I’ve been so boring lately. Wah, wah, wah, my boyfriend’s mommy doesn’t like me. Wah, wah, wah. Sorry, guys. Thanks for sticking by me. But since my life this past week as been consumed by that topic, my brain is pretty blank. Want some random dribble? OK.

- Is it possible that Rory Gilmore is going to get engaged before me? I mean, isn’t she just 22, just graduating from Yale? Doesn’t she want to go out into the world and make a name for herself while writing for a well-known paper? Isn’t Logan slightly unstable and wouldn’t the engagement mean she has to move all the way across the country to L.A. and leave Stars Hollow behind? And really? Getting engaged before me? Rory Gilmore? 

(Also, how is it that Paris is 30 in real life and Lane is 34? Thirty-four!)

- I made up for not eating much this week with homemade chicken pot pie for dinner last night. I also had some for lunch today. I believe my stomach has now forgiven my nerves for going on strike.

- Remember the giant monsoon of a storm we had a few weeks ago? You know, the one where the East coast got slammed, leaving a trail of flooded basements, down trees and power outages? I found a really cool picture of the beach near our house. Look how high the ocean is. Freaky, huh? Looks like a tsunami. Yikes!

What is it with families? Does anyone have a normal one? What is normal anyway?

This whole mother/grandmother debacle has me pretty stressed. Even though we had the conversation. Even though Michael told them to back off. Even though I shouldn’t care what they think. (But of course I do.)

Case in point, when I get anxious my stomach cramps up and is not a happy camper. As a result, I don’t eat as much. And as a result of that, my new pants that I bought just two weeks ago are too big. Now yes, I like to lose weight. But this isn’t the way I wanted to do it.

I brought one of my favorite things to eat today in hopes of breaking through the anxiety wall and reminding my stomach how much it loves food. (A lot. It loves food a lot.) I’m crossing my fingers it works.

What? You want to hear more of this ridiculous woe is me I’m losing weight without trying story? OK then.

Another thing that’s been bothering me is the whole engagement thing. Or lack there of, actually. Before the ambush Michael had told me that sometime in the next six months it was definitely going to happen. There was joyful leaping and wide-armed spinning a la The Sound of Music. OK, there wasn’t. But I was extremely happy.

But now I can’t help but think that all this stress, all this pushing…is going to push Michael in the complete opposite direction. I asked him if was affecting is decision. He said no. But who knows.

I promise I’ll move on to a much more stimulating topic tomorrow. Cross my heart. Stick a needle in my eye.

Well, it’s over. We had the conversation. And I am currently in the process of relocating to a town far, far away.

When my phone rang at 9:30 I knew it was her before I even looked. I held my phone in my hand, took a deep breath…and chickened out. Her message was short, but to the point. Call her. Soon.

So I called my mom, who told me that the ball was now in my court and I really needed to just suck it up and do it.

My heart was beating out of my chest and I my hands were shaky. I hit send and…

The freaking line was busy. Busy! For ten minutes! (Let’s not even talk about how it’s 2007 and hello, call waiting!) Knowing that I could just walk away from the whole thing right now, I put the phone down. But then I changed my mind because I just wanted to get it over with.

So I dialed again. Oh God, it’s ringing. Oh God, don’t say God!

“Hello?”

“Hi [his mother], it’s Molly.”

“Oh, hi Molly. I was just calling to tell you that I care about you and I’m sorry you think I hate you.”

Oh God boy.

Highlights, because I know you like the highlights:

• Even though she loves me and cares about me, she is very upset that I am not “born again.” And until I learn to accept Jesus into my heart for all eternity, it will always bother her.
• After I told her that whatever path I choose to follow is my business and not hers and I was very concerned that when there are children there will be problems. She agreed and said that’s why we need to be on the same page now. I told her that no matter how long this goes on, we will never be on the exact same page.
• I told her that I didn’t want any more religious literature. That I found it pushy and invasive. I also told her that there is a very good chance that next year Michael and I will be married and I’m not going anywhere. I don’t think she liked that too much.
• Her answer for everything I said was either “I’m sorry you feel that way”, “I never said that”, or just plain silence.

So basically, we got nowhere. She continually apologized for my feelings, but not for causing me to feel that way. I hung up just as Michael was coming home from work. He walked in and found me lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, phone still in my hand. Completely emotionally spent. Completely tired of all this crap.

But it’s over. For now, at least. I can only hope that despite her lack of response, she heard what I was saying. And if not, I’ll just keep saying it over and over until she does.

Although running away is starting to sound much more appealing. Anyone want to adopt me for a few weeks? I’ll let you borrow my shoes.