All I ask for is your Support

My sister-in-law is being very helpful when it comes to wedding suggestions. She brings me favors from other people's weddings, pictures of their dresses, a website to a photographer who she thought was cool, and several other things. Recently she told me of the idea of having a smaller version of the cake you want and then having a sheet cake served to guest as a way to cut cost. I told her that I had heard about that and a few other ideas I'd been thinking about. One was having a fake cake, with a real piece for the cutting and the rest would be Styrofoam or whatever, and everyone would be served sheet cake. My Eldest sister called me "a red necked hill billie" while her husband told me that idea was "cheap". Be that as it may, I think they could have expressed their feelings in a different manor. Then my B-i-L says to me, "You only get married once. Have a REAL cake." To which I responded, "Yes, but I don't want to be paying for it for the rest of my life either." They just don't seem to get it, F and I do not have a lot of money. I have some serious credit card debt that is holding me back, and I don't know, a MORTGAGE. They seem to think the money is free flowing. I feel that every time I bring up something about the wedding, they gang up on me, telling me I'm being "cheap".
Is it so much to ask that my family support me? Seriously, is it? I don't want my memories of my family's involvement of my wedding to be a bad one, and so far, that's all I've got.

Things I Worry About

• That I don’t have any real friends, even though I know I do.
• That my mom will pass away or get really sick just before the wedding.
• That F’s mom or dad will pass away or get really sick just before the wedding.
• That I will be in credit card debt til the day I die.
• That my nagging about picking up after himself will make F hate and resent me.
• That we’ll never sell my house.
• That I’ll get sick on our Honeymoon.
• That I’ll not have Bridal Body 2008 for the wedding.
• That I’ll tell F’s dad off for being a racist bigot.
• That I’ll never find a wedding dress.
• That if I do find THE DRESS, my sister will be angry with me for not letting her make it.
• That F will want to raise the kids in his religion that I think is horribly sexiest.
• That we won’t be able to have kids.
• That there will be something wrong with our kids.
• That I’ll keep messing up dinner in someway every night for the rest of our married life. I seriously think this would change if we had a different stove!
• That The Crazy will be unbearable for poor F when I have whacked out pregnant hormones.
• That the global warming is as bad as they say it is and our kids will be doomed.
• That F will get a job far-far-away and I’ll have to move away from my family.
• That my sister’s cancer will come back.
• That I’ll lose my job.
• That I wouldn’t be able to find a new job.
• That you’ll all think I’m crazy because of what I worry about.

365

Today is officially one year to the day that I will become Mrs F. Actually Ms. D. H-F. I'm keeping my last name and adding his. He's ok with it. 365 days, let the nightmares begin. Or continue as the case may be. Last night I dreamt it was THE DAY and I had nothing, NOTHING done. As I stood in what I presume in my dream to have been the basement bathroom of our church, with pink tile and yellow sink and poor lighting( i don't even know if our church has a basement, let alone a basement with a pink and yellow bathroom in it), I stared in the mirror horrified that they wanted to do my hair which I hadn't washed yet. "I can't get married with greasy hair! I just can't! " Somehow I managed to shower? In the church basement bathroom? Anyway, with fresh hair I prepared to have my hair done, only to look down at the old rusty curling iron, as it slide into the sink of water. "Is is broken??!!? Won't I be electrocuted if we use it while it's wet?!?!"
All the while trying to tell myself that the things that hadn't been finished wouldn't matter, no one would notice. I don't even know what the things were that I hadn't finished. I just had an overwhelming feeling that they were all major wedding things that should have been done months before hand.
364 more weird, stress inducing dreams to go.

Things I’ve Done in the Last 24 hrs

1. O.D.ed on allergy meds which had F sending me promptly to bed. I was in a haze the rest of the day. To the point I didn’t hear my neighbor say Hi to me when I was sitting out in the yard.

2. Made a slightly raw dinner. F really needs to speak up on these things.

Me: "Hmmm this is kinda raw.”
F: “Yeah.” (after he had finished it all)
Me: “Why didn’t you say
anything?”
F: “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
Me: “That’s nice, but I don’t want you eating raw food!”

3. Dyed my hair to cover up the gray.

F: “Did you color your hair a different color?”
Me: “I used a different brand. Why? Does it look darker?”
F Nods his head and wrinkles his nose in dislike.

4. Slept in the guest room because apparently coming down from an Allergy med high makes me restless and cranky.

5. Packed, and then forgot my lunch on the table.

6. Touched up the polish on my toes. Yes, I do keep it in my draw at work. O.P.I.(Chicago Champagne Toast) is the best polish around, and is extremely expensive. It is totally the brand I hope to use for The Wedding.

7. Ate lunch outside and debated not coming back into the office.

8. Checked out Say Yes to the Dress website after watching it on TLC this weekend and crying because my mom may not get to go dress shopping with me. And gagging on the fact that these girls’ DRESS budget is my WEDDING budget.

9. Was disgusted that on website above the dress they said is right for my body type is akin to the T.P roll cover my grandma knitted for us. Can you say, Gone with the Wind?

10. Chatted with co-workers about various un-work related topics.

11. Wrote this post.

PMS makes me Bitchy

Every girl knows, every man dredges it. It's PMS. Sometimes it hits early, sometimes it hits late. Sometimes I'm an emotional tornado, other times I'm fine.
F, and just about everybody, is extra irritating at this time. The littlest things set me off.
For instance. F wants to go to this event and invite Second Eldest and her Man. He's been talking about it for over a week. However, did F do any of the research needed in aiding the decision to attend the event? Why no. So what follows is the conversation we had:

"Can you look it up?"

"You didn't look into it?"

"No. So will you look it up? After all, you just sit at a computer all day." (that trips my trigger every time.)

"You've been talking about this all week, why didn't you look into it?"(I'm starting to steam.)

"I don't know. Just look it up, I can hear you typing at your computer now." (It's called multi-tasking, you should try it sometime!)

"No, look it up when you get home."

"Fine."

"Fine."

So tell me, is this a guy thing? Every time I see an event that I want to attend I look into. Cost, time, location. I print stuff out, map it, whatever.

When he sees an event he wants us to attend? He asks me to do all the leg work. While at work. Even though we have the Internet, at home.

GRRRRRRRR.

You're a Jackass, and You? You're Disgusting.

• To the Jackass with the big fancy expensive car, the off ramp has two lanes in it. If you'd taken a moment to notice, the cars were lining up either on the right or the left, to make their turns. You however, decided to plop your fancy butt smack dab in the middle of the lanes, hence blocking those of us who were making a right turn. You also failed to notice that the cars were lining up behind you, in 2 very distinct lines.
  You're a Jackass.

• To the other Jackass who took lessons from the first Jackass, again, there are 2 left turn lanes onto the one way street. If you pull into the far right left turn lane, it means you are turning into the far right lane. Thank you so much for pulling into the far right left turn lane only to cut me off by turning to the left lane. Hence making a diagonal turn, that if I'd turned at the same time, which is the point in having 2 turn lanes, for traffic flow; you would have hit me smack in the middle of my passenger's side. Effectively caving in the entire side of my car with your SUV.
  You're a Jackass.
  
• To the Dude standing on the corner holding the "CELL PHONES! TWO BLOCKS WEST!!!!" Sign for some random cell phone store, I don't mind you b-bopping(yes, I said b-bopping) to the music you hear in your head, and I'm glad you have an honest job and aren't out there being a criminal. However, it IS criminal to be standing on a busy street corner, with a hard on, calling attention to yourself.
  You"re Disgusting.

Some Happy, Some not so Happy

Some Happy

• Last night after I’d just crawled into bed with a snoring F, my phone rang. I ran to the other room having recognized my Second Eldest sister’s boyfriend’s ring tone. She called to wish F a belated birthday. As we were chatting she says, “Well I also have to tell you, G(her bf) proposed.” Stated most matter of factly, without a hint of the glee I had when I teared up when I told them F and I were engaged. I could, however, hear the smile in her voice.
  
  

“OMG!!!!” That is so awesome! What did you say?” (Honestly, I doubt she would’ve called to say she said No. Would any of us engaged people have made the calls to tell people we said No? And yet, everyone asks anyway.)

“I’m not certain.”

“WHAT? You’re not certain what you said, or you said you weren’t certain?!?!?”
She laughs, “I said, Are you serious????” (In the retelling to F, he comments at this point, Must be a family thing.)

“HAHAHA, I said something similar to F. So it’s not just you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. So?”

“ I told him I wasn’t use to the idea, and to ask me again in a half hour.”

“Second Eldest!!!!!!”

“I know! I know! But it just took me completely by surprise. So he waited and asked me again.”

“And! So? Am I getting a new B-i-L???????!!!!”

“YES!”(Actually she dragged out the telling a little longer than that, she loves to get people all riled up, I was totally on the edge of my seat.)
At this point I’m so giddy, we both are. Everyone in the family has been waiting for them to get married. He’s really great. WAAAAAAAAAAAAY better than her other 2 ex-husbands. Yeah, 3rd time? Total Charmer!!! So this is so totally awesome!

Some Not so Happy

• I’m totally jealous of the fact that they got engaged, in Maui. On.The.Beach.In.Maui.
  I’m also feeling a little of my bridal thunder being silenced. Yes, I am a little selfish, it’s my wedding next year, not hers! She’s done this already. Twice. I’m a horrid person.
  
  

Some Happy

• Now we can plan and look at some stuff together! She’s not going whole hog this time, but still, FUN FUN!!!
  

Some Not so Happy

• When I e-mailed my mother to get a time frame for when she’d be back from down south, where she winters, Thanksgiving or Christmas? She told me that since her BF’s cancer is back, she may not be coming home for the holidays in order to stay down there and help care for him.
  I wanted to go wedding dress shopping while she was home during that time.
  When I got home, I cried. F said I could go with my sisters.
  I told him it just wasn’t the same.
  *Sigh*
  
  

Some Happy

• I get to go Wedding Dress Shopping!!! Hell, I’ve already got the shoes all picked out! hehehe
  

Over the Weekend

I went shopping for various items this Saturday. New brown boots. A white comforter. Towel bars for the bathroom. Various birthday and anniversary cards. F’s birthday present. And groceries. I started at 10:30 and was finished by 3:00. My ankle and knee were killing me. I’d been wearing my tennis shoes the entire time. I hobbled to the couch and crashed. I took drugs to ease the pain. It helped, some. So I’ve decided to take my sorry tush to a specialist. I can’t be hobbling! This really sucks. I mean REALLY sucks. Hopefully I won’t have to swear off heels, hell, not even just heels, shoes in general? WALKING!?!?!?!!? Freaking getting older is a nasty bitch!

As for the boots? FABU! And can you believe? SEARS? The Softer Side of Sears has really come through for me on two boot occasions. I may have to just go to them for boots from the get.

All white comforter? NOTHING, unless I want down or down alternative, which I really don’t, because, yeah, I’m always HOT. I’m sure F would love it though.

Towel bars for the bathroom? Check! To whom ever re-did our bathroom and placed the tile towel bars at a height where hanging your towel over said bar then causes the T.P to be wet? You’re a dork. Oh, and also, the second tile towel bar you hung? You know the one that hangs OVER the heat/ac vent? Again, DORK. Although I will miss a heated towel come this winter.

F’s birthday present? Hidden at the neighbor’s house. He still thinks all he’s getting are the slippers and dinner. HA HA!!!! I’m so sneaky!

Of course the weekend was over shadowed by me “losing” my engagement ring! *GASP* As we were getting ready to leave for church, I could not find said ring. I called F to help me search. We tore about the bedroom. “I don’t remember taking it off last night!” I cried to F. He started ripping off the covers in case it came off during the night. As I was going to hang up my towel on the stupid towel bar from above, it hit me! We’d gotten home late the night before and half asleep I’d place my engagement ring in the cleaner, in the bathroom cabinet. Where I found it, safe and sound and shiny clean.
F stated that we need to get it insured. Um, yeah.

So Many Shoes, and Just One Wedding.

So you can thank Molly over at These Little Moments for the following post.

She posted about looking for her wedding shoes, and it inspired me. So Many Shoes, and Just One Wedding is the tag line at Bellissima Bridal Shoes. And boy, they aren't kidding! I fell in love with several, over a dozen. And I'm sure I'll add more as time goes on. Here's the thing though, I have Polish ankles, so they are not slim. I'm not saying I have cankles, because that's not the case, they're just not supper slim so the whole danity ankle strap just isn't gonna get it for me. I know a slide probably won't work because like I said before, I plan on being medicated. So I think my shoes should somehow be strapped to my feet. Also, I have issue with my baby toe being mashed between straps, so you'll notice there aren't any strappy sandals. Some of these just aren't fancy enough for me, but others are. Who know there'd be so many telling things about a person and her bridal shoes? I want fancy, but comfortable, I want sexy but wearable. So many factors to consider!

Granted the following examples of my obession aren't all properly in-line with a sling back with less than a 3 inch heel, but a girl can always dream, right?

Let me know what you think people!

1)

2)3)4)5)6)7)8)9)10)11)12)13)

14)

15)

If I ever......

I'm sure we've all played this "game" before. You see something heinous or some really bad behavior exhibited by someone else and you turn to your friend,family member, significant other and say, "If I ever XYZ......smack me."
Here have been a few of mine to F in last few months:

1. If I ever get that fat, smack me. But you know, do it nice a way, don't mean be about it. Said after seeing a trio of young girls who were really extremely over weight. I'm no lightweight myself, but even I was disgusted.
2. If I ever wear an outfit that is too young/old/tight, smack me. Uttered during Church about another member whose dress was so tight, the buttons were straining to stay on. Also about the same member a week later who was wearing a bare backed halter top to Service. She's really too old for that and it's completely inappropriate for Service.
3. If I ever go grocery shopping dressed like her, smack me. Look at her, those heels are so high she can't even push her cart. Sneered about a woman who was shopping at Costco with her young impressionable daughter wearing a very low cut, snug tight shirt with an extremely good push-up bra, tight skinny fit jeans and strappy gold heels. And I know I wasn't the only woman making comments or staring either. That poor daughter, what image issues she'll have.

Or how about If YOU ever? I've bet you've all played this one too:

1. If YOU ever cheat on me, I'll make you hurt in ways you never thought possible. I never said I wasn't a little psycho.
2. If YOU ever hit me, you'll be someone else's bitch(in prison). Told to F while relaying my mom's advice about how she threatened my father that she'd leave him, with 3 little kids, if he ever laid a hand on her. Not to say he was violent. They psycho had to come from somewhere. (sorry mom.)

Anyone else? What have you said: "If I/You ever......smack me"?

Things People Need to Understand

1. You are my Co-Worker, not my Boss, so back the hell up off me!


2. We work in cube land, so Yes, I can hear your every bitchy double standard words about every one's too loud cell phone ringing, but never anything about your own stupid Nextel.


3. You are not the only person I do stuff for, so stop acting like you are the one and only, and wait your turn like everyone else.


4. Stop listening in on my conversations and then making comments for which you were not ask for.


5. Just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean you can act like my mother. I have one, and she is much better than you.


6. If you're not going to invite me to lunch, don't whine when I don't invite You to lunch.


7. If you are sick, stay the hell home! We don't want to listen to you hacking up a lung. Just because you are bored at home does not give you the right to come to work and infest the office with germs.


8. It's extremely rude to invite yourself to my wedding. I was going to invite you anyway, but you shouldn't assume I won't cut you in order to invite, um, MY FAMILY.
9. I am poor. I am planning a wedding. So when I tell you I can't afford to put in for the Boss's Christmas present, don't look at me and say, " Not even $4?" Especially after I also just told you I'm not buying MY OWN FAMILY presents for Christmas this year.
10. You have an office door, shut it. I don't need to hear you ordering your hemorrhoid cream or berating someone over the phone.

Tastes Like......?

F and I did our "Tasting" for the wedding reception food. I can't say I thought it was outstanding, but it was good and as I was sucking the meat off the bone(OK! the old fashioned fried chicken WAS really good.) my mom looks at me and says, "Well you know you're not going to eat that day anyway, you'll be too nervous." She seems to keep forgetting that I plan to be MEDICATED al a Pretty in Pink for at least the entire week before the wedding. I'm totally serious about this. We have people coming in from ALL over God's Green Earth for this wedding. F's side is coming in from the Homeland and all the various other countries they've scattered to. I have a bride's maid coming in from the UK and 2 are coming from out of state. All of F's groom's men are from out of state except for my brother. All of these people need to be here at least 2 days before the wedding. And be housed. My maids' of honor(yes, I'm having 2) said they'd come a full WEEK before the wedding to keep me sane. Which, deep down, I think might actually do the opposite, but hey, who knows. It may be all party all the time. So with me being stressed out, eating? Well, I'm a stress eater, so I don't see me NOT eating. I mean seriously, every time we go to Costco I eye their ready made food and think, um yeah, we'll be picking up those chicken wraps for the wedding party for before the wedding. I've seen brides who don't eat before the wedding, usually they end up taking a header somewhere along the line. I do not want this to be me. Plus, if I wait too long to eat I get cranky with a splitting headache and I can't process info properly.

Priest: "Do you take this man?"

Hungry me: "Yes, I'll have HAM!"

Not pretty.

Things I Hate.....

Things I Hate.....About being 30-something

1. I'm no longer 20-something


2. Sleeping until noon is no longer allowed or even possible. I seem to be slipping into that old people habit of getting up earlier and earlier as I get older. My mother? She gets up at like 5am, and actually DOES stuff.


3. Physical aliments no longer go away within a few days, they linger.


4. I've had physical issues that required surgery to correct. And just to warn you, a gall bladder is actually a good thing, not a useless thing. Not to go into detail here but with gall bladder pizza or fried food=non-issue. Non-gall bladder=quick stepped trip to the bathroom. Just sayin.


5. My absolute horror at the possibility that I may no longer be able to handle wearing heels, of any kind. 2 yrs ago I very badly sprained my ankle, I had to go to rehab(side note here, every time I hear the word rehab I think of that song by Amy Winehouse and I always hear the word rehab like how she sings it in the song followed by the "no,no,no.") Anyway, almost a year to the day later I sprained it again. It seemed to heal fine this time, but now, as I try to wear my favoritest boots, I end the day limping and dying to remove my favoritest boots to get relief. My ankle is swollen and stiff and my knee is all jacked up too. And it's not just the boots, it's any heel, and apparently any height heel as well. Seriously, I just got into heels at the age of 25, this is so not cool.


6. My gray hair is spreading across my head. Yes, I've had it since I was in my 20's, it was kind of a cute thing then. Now? Now it's just kind of Telling, you know what I mean? Hair maintenance isn't just because I like highlights, it's now NECESSARY maintenance.
7. Going out means having to drive home which means a drinking limit. That is probably a good thing, because I just can't handle the adult beverages like I used to. Plus, when add to #2, hangovers are real extra bitchy.

What the Hell?

Things that I just don't understand:

• On the way home the other day, a full sized pick-up truck with CAMOUFLAGED SEAT covers. Because the poor animals can see and smell the truck, but the inside is lost in a swirl of camo. Sneaky humans!
• Why gas is $2.89 on the way to work, but is $2.85 a mere 8 hours later. I propose that we apply the same theory they have at department stores, if it goes on sale within the next 30 days, I get a refund for the difference. Ok, maybe make it 12 hrs, but you get my meaning.
• Why if I order french fries through the drive-thru I have ASK for ketchup. It's not like we are in England and people use vinegar or ketchup. Just give me the damned ketchup.
• Why if you Super Size your meal you try to fool yourself by still ordering a Diet. Yeah, that's a life saver.
• Why you don't pull the fuck over when you see the flashing lights of a ambulance, police or fire vehicle. We all know you are the same people who will sue the city because said rescue vehicle took too long to reach your sorry ass if you were the one waiting to be saved.
• Why people wait until the VERY LAST second to pull out of the merge lane into regular traffic, doing, of course, LESS than the posted speed limit. Or wait until the VERY LAST INCH to merge when 4 miles back the bright orange construction sign told you the lane would be ending, in 4 miles. So the rest of us have to STOP because some lame brain decided to let you in.
• Why don't people don't wash their hands after using the bathroom. SERIOUSLY, wash your damn HANDS!

Bridal Brain

Bridal Brain is very much the same as Pregnant Brain, as in you can't remember anything, the simplest tasks become overly tasking, and your emotions are over the top and flipping out. I am experiencing this enmass. See here, here, here, here, and finally, here. Looking at that line-up there, is making me a little crazy. Anyway, I can't remember shit. 5 days in a row I've forgotten to bring a box of Kleenex to work, and I've been suffering from allergies for like a month and ran out of Kleenex like 2 weeks ago. So really, I should be totally motivated to remember a box of stinking Kleenex in the morning. I've taken a box and set it out somewhere I would see it and remember to grab it, um, yeah.

I went looking at invitation this weekend with my mom, and I almost cried in the store over a little saying about God and marriage or something, obviously since I'm telling you exactly what it said, it really hit home. Not. And I'm not even that religious, really. As I read the multitude of sayings to pick from, I got misty on so many occasions; I had to get a water to rehydrate. Now I've never considered myself a crier, but dang if the water works haven't just been always ready at a moment's notice lately. I've also never really considered myself a lacey and poufy kinda a girl either, and I'm glad to say after spending 2 hrs looking at invites, that that still holds true, however, I did find that I'm not all hip and contemporary either. When a co-worker brought in an invite to show me, I fell in love with a certain enclosure , but when I went to look at it again, I found that it just didn't cut it for me anymore. I want the parchment paper with aged edges and raised print type. Who knew? But no doves, or Cali lilies or ribbon or any of that crap. Just nice and simple and straight to the point.

Speaking of crap. F and I went to a Bridal Show this weekend. O.M.G. I felt like we were all cattle in the shute on our way to be slaughtered. I filled out so many cards with my wedding date, name, address, e-mail and phone number that I started forgetting who I was. DJ, limos, cakes, sexy bachelorette party ideas, photographers, vacations; I signed up for free stuff, to win stuff to get more junk mail stuff. After filling out about twenty of these (this was early in the game, but not early enough) F says to me, We should have brought those return address labels and stuck those on here. So there's a tip to all of you who think you HAVE TO GO (really, you don't) to a Bridal show, save your fingers, bring a sticker. I feel even more overwhelmed then I did before we went. Although F was a total trooper carrying the bags and crap, not free crap, just brochure crap, for 2 hrs all over the massive cattle slaughter. And women, we do get bitchy and pushy over a bite size piece of cake, let me tell you. One of the booths was life insurance where F picked up a huge yard stick. But since F isn't always aware of his surroundings, he almost took out me, and several other people with said yard stick; I took it from him only to have to give it back so I didn't use it to beat back some cake line jumping bitches.



If anyone has ever gotten anything useful out of attending one of these things, please share, because the best part of the "Show" was how quickly we got out of the parking lot.

Cleaver?.....Cleaver?......Cleaver?

Where is June Cleaver when you need her? All prefect hair, pearls and pies? I am not, NOT June Cleaver, not Betty Crocker, I align more with Mr Jiffy Mix. I'm not saying I can't cook, I in fact CAN COOK, but ever since F has come into my life, I've become a bumbling fool in the kitchen. I over cook, I under cook, and last night, I set ablaze. Mind you, I never thought that I was the kind of woman who believed being a good cook was important in getting and keeping a man. If you don't like it, go make something else, that has been my motto. But with F? I'm all, Do you like it Ward? Would like like more pie Ward? Is it tender enough Ward? Would you like me to warm it up for you Ward? Can I feed you Ward? Ok, maybe not that last one, but you get my meaning. When it comes to cooking for F, I get all June-ish. I want it all to be wonderful so he can boast to his friends, "DH, she cooks a mean meal." As things are now? I think he's afraid to invite people over for dinner in case I give them all e-coli. I grabbed a few apples yesterday and decided I was going to make my man a homemade, with love, dessert. He was tired and hungry when he called with still an hour drive home ahead of him. I started scrounging in the freezer for something to cook and came across the steaks we stock piled back in July. Good sized, enough left over for lunch, PREFECT. Let's fast forward to me throwing said steaks onto the nice hot grill. I turned it down and headed back into the house to make my lovely dessert. I'm pealing away at the apples and think to myself, I should go check on the steaks. I look out the window to see smoke, lots and lots of black smoke. I run out the door, and see flames. I'm not talking the little flare-up flames, I'm talking full on, burn the garage down, blow-up the gas grill kind of flames. The ENTIRE INSIDE OF THE GRILL WAS ON FIRE. Those prefect steaks? CHARCOAL. It took a good 10mins for the flames to die down. The wooden brush used to clean the grill, burned. It was setting on the grille's side burner(not turned on). That's how far out of the grill the flames were reaching. When I told F, he said, "cool." When I showed him the steaks that were burned but still raw, "No big deal. don't worry about it." He ate the steak(after I nuked it), said he couldn't have burned them better himself, said they were good.

I didn't burn the dessert, which he loved.

But I did set the hot pad on fire getting it out of the oven.

Again? Really?

These whacked dreams had better stop after the wedding, or I will have to start living a Valley of the Dolls kinda lifestyle. And I've noticed, they all occur early in the morning, like shortly before the alarm goes off. It makes me tired, it makes me cranky and it makes me doubt my sanity. Dreams are meant to be your subconscious working through things you can't or won't face during the day. This one I just had? Oh, so totally. There is a back story here, I'll give you the highlights. About 5 years ago we got a new employee. Male. We hit it off, immediately. Problem? Oh, just a tad little issue of him being MARRIED. He's tall, handsome, funny as hell, sarcastic, older(but not like, fatherly) and horribly insightful. A deadly combo. Of course the more we hung out together, the more people talked. And I'll admit it, there were feelings there, on my side at least. I had a huge crush on him. But I knew he was married, and that was a line I was unwilling to cross. Anyway, last year we had a bit of a falling out. And we've not been nearly as chummy as we were before. We barely speak. We've tried to pick things back up, to be friendly again, but it's just not there anymore. Our dialogue always seems kinda forced. Which is probably good, considering F came into the picture shortly before all this went down. (side bar, F feels that my Co-Worker Crush had feelings for me, but that's a whole another Blog topic.) Ok, so back on Topic here, last night, or early this morning, I had a vivid dream involving CWC. He was in the kitchen at work, washing his dishes and I walked up, put my hand on his arm and started to say, "I'm so glad to see a man cleaning up after himself."(Kind of a joke between him and I, he always washes his own dishes at work) but before I could finish he whirls around and clutches me into a utterly suffocating bear hug. At first I'm embarrassed by this display, then I start to freak out because I literally CAN. NOT. BREATH. I fight my way out of his hug, my face red with the effort and the anger, and try to run off to my cube. He grabs my arm and pulls me back towards him and plants a VERY passionate kiss on me. At first, I was all, "FINALLY I get to experience his kiss". But then I became horrified. Angry that he would do something like that, I shove him off with great force and I think I may have called him an asshole, I'm not sure, things are cloudy after I remove myself from his lip-lock. What the hell? Seriously, WHAT. THE. HELL? As I type this, I'm kinda angry for letting it happen. For approaching him in the first place. Granted, it was just a dream, but what bothers me the most? I enjoyed his (dream) kiss, and felt relief at finally getting to experience. As fleeting as that feeling was, it still bothers me. Like maybe I shouldn't have had that feeling at all. I know that's what it is. I feel guilty about liking a dream kiss.

Damned Catholic upbringing.

If you Dream It, You Can...Do It???

So I had a rather disturbing dream this morning. I cheated on F. With a guy my college friend used as a booty call in college, and maybe even after. Handsome college football player with a heart of gold and a baby-momma. The point is, in the dream, I said, "I can't, I'm engaged!" But everyone kept telling to go ahead and do it. And even more disturbing, as I write this several hours later, I can't remember if I cheated on him or not! I think maybe I did, because my brain keeps telling me it was good, the cheating sex. Remember that episode of Friends where Phoebe is pissed off at Ross because of something he did in a dream? Yeah, it's like that. Am I a cheater because I may have cheated in a dream? And, well, kind of really liked it?
And I have done the same thing Phoebe has done, been pissed off at someone for something they did in a dream. I wake up really ticked off. It puts me in a pissy mood all day.

Poor F, he's marrying a crazy person.

Hearing Aid

In Church this weekend, F and I sat close to the back because, well, that's where we sit. Growing up, Church was a place of best behavior. No laughing, no talking after the services has already started, that kind of thing. Nowadays, expecting your child to sit quietly for an hour is apparently beyond a parent's control. I know I was taken out during the service to have my tush smack a few times before the lesson was driven home. I have some patients for children and their fidgeting. What I have NO TOLERANCE for is the Adults who talk throughout the service. To me, this is disrespectful beyond belief. Sitting behind us this particular time was a grandmother, her daughter and the daughter's 2 sons. Their loud whispers were annoying before the service started, but were downright unacceptable after the Church had been called to order. I overheard bits and pieces of their conversation through the hour. The mother and daughter: "whisper whisper whisper DIARRHEA (seriously? in church we're having this kind of conversation? F informed me he heard diarrhea of the mouth, but still people, COME ON!)whisper whisper AND THIS ONE DIDN'T HURT LIKE THE OTHER ONE("one" what I wondered?) WHEN I WOKE UP THIS MORNING whisper whisper whisper. And the sons: whisper whisper YOU'RE SICK whisper whisper LOOK AT HER, SHE'S whisper whisper whisper(ok, I've judged people's outfits etc in church, but I highly doubt 2 teenage boys were discussing the proper length of a mini -skirt) whisper whisper whisper. SHUT UP!!!! For GOD'S SAKE, SHUT YOUR MOUTH YOU DISRESPECTFUL TWIT! That's what I wanted to scream at them. But I didn't, because I was raised right. I just showed my disgust by sighing loudly. Also, you know what people always say about a serial killer, "He was such a quiet boy, always so clean and tidy." Well I saw 2 future receivers of that comment in this same Church service. Pretty blond mom, good looking, although a tad uptight, dad have 2 blond haired boys. It was their outfits that made me shudder. The boys were dressed identically, and no, they weren't twins, in plaid button down shirts, blue dress short, white socks with black patten leather shoes. That combo, it just freaked me out. Something about the overtly tidy white socks and black shoes. Dad kept leaning over with his arm around the youngest shoulders, whispering in his ear. The kids just had that Children of Corn look about them and all I could think is they are going to be rapist when they grow up. A tag team of creepy brothers wrecking havoc on white bread suburbia. We need to stop going to that church.
On an equally "Things I don't need to hear" level, F and I had a yard sale to finance the remodel of our family room. People will tell you the most intimate details of their lives, holy goodness. An elderly couple visited our yard sale where the lady prattled on about the "lovely (1960 styled) pots and pans that would look so lovely on your table when you entertain." The men were discussing the computer so she and I went on to discuss some furniture we were selling, one of which was a bed. The elderly lady, 75 to be exact, turns to me and bitterly whispers, "After 47 years of marriage we have our own rooms. That's the way things end up. And I'll tell you another thing. He (she jerks her head towards her adorable little husband) had prostate surgery awhile ago and I'll tell you this, I went to the hospital with a husband,and I came home with a brother(she nearly spat). The doctors, oh they SAID everything would be fine after 3 months. THAT hasn't happen. I'm just telling you this, because people never tell you these things."

Um, yeah, there's a reason they don't tell you! T.M.I.!!!!!!

Magic 8 Ball Needed

I was relaying a story about F to a co-worker who, over the years I've come to rely on for great advice and insight. As usual with stories about F she shook her head and laughed. But then she said to me, "You know DH, it'll be like that for the rest of your life. The REST of your LIFE. It doesn't go up from here, it only goes down."

So, ah, are you saying I shouldn't marry F? I mean, seriously? She's been through divorce herself, and has been in a long term relationship with a man she seems to not really like, for years. And during many conversations, she can bring some serious Bitter, Party of One. So I don't know if she's trying to gently tell me I'm making a mistake, or if she's just all doom and gloom based on her past experiences. I have enough doubt on my own without someone whispering in my ear. Yes, F has his flaws, as do I. And God bless him for being able to put up with mine. It just really took me by surprise. Well, maybe not really. Often times I've felt like she's being hinting at F not being right for me. Shit. Am I over analysing this? And if I am, why am I? Does that mean something? Why can't I be all "LA LA LA I'm engaged, life is a fluffy cloud."????

I hate second guessing myself.