Going to the Chapel...

Going to the Chapel...

And Matt and Beth got married! So, the much anticipated wedding was yesterday and it was a BLAST! Beth looked absolutely gorgeous in her dress -- no surprise there! -- and everyone else looked fantastic as well. Shaun is hot stuff in that tuxedo! The wedding ceremony was much shorter than I was expecting it to be, and after we left the church we went back to Matt & Beth's for a little while to hang out, take pictures, and snack on cheese and crackers before the reception.

The reception was beautiful, great food, decent DJs, and of course, lots of great company. Shaun's best man speech was sweet and to-the-point, he caught the garter belt (that's 3 in a row for him!), and once everyone started dancing we didn't stop til midnight! All in all, a great wedding! I can't wait to see everyone else's pictures, but here are some of mine for now!

And On The 14th Day She Rested

Today is my first day off since June 9th. I am loving that I do not have to go back to work until Monday!! And what a fun weekend to have off. Brian and Steph are in town for Steph's friend's wedding tomorrow, so I got to hang with them this afternoon before they headed out to the Tigers game. Also, Aunt Mary and Uncle Jim are in town, so we are all having dinner together tonight. And tomorrow is Matt and Beth's wedding!

Should be a party three day weekend if ever there was one.

Oh, and I got paid today! Stay tuned for pictures y'all.

I Can't Drive 65, and Other Bedtime Stories

So I know it's been about a million years since I updated. My bad. I've been getting more hours at Gap recently and I've been taking them because I need the dinero. Shaun now has two jobs as well, so between the two of us we have four -- who says there's an unemployment problem in Michigan?? I am OVER employed if you ask me. I have to work twice as hard just to afford my bills. But anyway, no excuses, shit has just been boring lately.

On Friday night I went out with Linda and Kathy to the Post Bar in Novi. It is pretty much the lamest bar on the planet. If I could talk my friends into it I would never go there again. Or Woody's in Royal Oak: also freaking lame! Friday everyone but me got totally and utterly annihilated -- so I brought everyone back to my house to sleep it off and then drove people home and to work the next morning. I swear I am the greatest friend of all time! (Haha, just kidding ladies, you know I got your backs!)

Today while driving to work I nearly had an aneurism while stuck behind some dillhole doing 65 in the fast line. My theory is thus -- if you want to be a law abiding citizen then whoo-hoo for you! But do NOT get in the fast lane of a FOUR LANE highway and impose your ideals about obeying the speed limit on the poor, unsuspecting people behind you. I go 80 whenever possible and when you get in my way, and then refuse to switch lanes and make me bob and weave and go three lanes out of my way to get around you, you're getting the bird, and that's all there is to it. Yes, I have road rage and I'm proud of it. I usually only express it while in the car alone. I try not to make other people suffer through the profanities that tumble out of my mouth when I get stuck behind someone that has zero business behind the wheel of a car anyway.

This weekend is Matt and Beth's wedding and I am super excited. I went to Nordstrom RACK with Kira (it was my first time there) and holy crap! I got a beautiful dress for $99 that was originally $365!! And some cute shoes for $50 too. Deal, deal, deal. Gap is having the biggest sale in the history of mankind right now, and I think it's the Victoria's Secret semi-annual sale as well, so Friday might be a shopping day!

In other news my Aunt Mary and Uncle Jim (Mom's little sis and her hubby) are coming to Detroit (*gasp* it's a miracle!) this weekend, and also Brian and Stephanie are going to be in town, so with the out-of-towners and the wedding this promises to be a very busy weekend.

Now I am going to go make some popcorn and watch Entourage again. It's my new Sex and the City. If you don't know about Entourage, you need to call your cable company and order HBO, hands down it's the best show on TV.

Peace out homies. More updates after this weekend. I'll have a LOT of new pics to put up.

Get To The Point

Get to the Point

So on Friday I went to Cedar Point with Nik, my friends Linda and Kathy from Gap, and Linda's friend Alissa. It was a bit rainy but we braved the weather to get some thrills on the greatest rollercoasters ever.

Yesterday Shaun and I went to the mall so that I could find a dress for Matt and Beth's wedding, but I was unsuccessful in my attempt. I obviously can't wear white to a wedding, and I don't really want to wear black. I was looking for a pretty color, but preferably all one solid color, and something that I can hide a bra underneath. I didn't even come close. But Shaun and I had fun playing with the SWEET iBooks at the Apple store.

After the mall we went to go see his dad's new condo, which is really nice but way, way out in BFE. (Well actually, I think it's Harrison Twp, but whatever.) We went to dinner with his dad and then went downtown to the Tigers game with his sister and her finacé. The Tigers beat the Indians 3-1 and it was a great game. A 2 run homer by Ordoñez, lots of double plays, and a beautiful fireworks show after the game. There were 37,000+ people at the park, by far more than I have ever seen at a Tigers game, and it got me thinking about what it would be like if the Lions are actually halfway decent this fall -- to have all our pro teams not suck ass in the same year!!

Kick Out The Jams!

Yep, It's Better than "Crash"

You heard me, "Brokeback Mountain," is better than "Crash." I watched it yesterday on a blissful day where I had NO jobs to attend and almost nothing that I absolutely HAD to do. I really should have cleaned up my room a little bit, and maybe done some laundry, but nope! I watched TV instead.

"Brokeback" was in On Demand and as I sat there listening to the preview I began to wonder what had been keeping me from seeing this movie. And then I remembered that Jake Gyllenhall and Heath Ledger, two absolute cuties, have near naked cowboy sex with each other up on that now infamous mountain. Honestly my friends, I thought I was an open minded person, but how reluctant I've been to watch this movie is making me question just how open my mind really is. I am definitely not a homophobe, and I'm not one of those in-betweeners who says, "Hey, as long as you don't hit on ME, we're cool!" I've been hit on by lesbians before and it's not that big a deal. You just say, "Sorry, I'd rather kiss boys, but that's sweet of you to ask -- nice bracelet!," and go on with whatever you were doing.

But I suppose when I think about my response to a person of the same sex hitting on me, I am indeed talking about women. Lesbians, to be exact. And I feel like there is much less hullaballoo around women who like to get it on with each other, than there is with men who prefer other men. I mean, look at all that Girls Gone Wild stuff, it's girls making out with other girls, showering with other girls, blah blah blah. I've seen some, ahem, shall we say 'adult' cinema that includes men on men action, but mostly it just seems cheesy and corny and funny -- but then again most, um, 'adult' cinema strikes me as cheesy and corny and funny -- and sometimes just utterly gross. But I digress. The real reason it took me so long to see "Brokeback Mountain" is because I think Jake and Heath are hot, and I really just didn't know if I could handle watching them do their thing.

So surprise, surprise when it actually turned out to be kind of hot. Yes, I said that too, it was hot! And after thinking about it, I realized why: because of the emotion behind it. (And well, because Jake and Heath are HOT!) It's a story about forbidden love, and, for those of you who know me and my all time favorite books and movies, you know that's the shit I love! (Can you say, "The English Patient??") This story just proves that no matter who it's between, love is truly a beautiful thing; no matter what the genders are of the people in love, ther're in love and that's all that matters. It was also unbelievably well acted, and heartbreakingly sad. I cried, but then again I cried watching, "Fever Pitch," -- you know, with Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore? But this cry was more like a, "Braveheart," or a, "Million Dollar Baby," kind of a cry.

I still haven't seen, "Capote," but honestly, Phillip Seymour Hoffman must have just done an amazing job to beat Heath Ledger out of this one. And I still haven't seen, "Syriana," but I don't think George Clooney really did beat Jake Gyllenhall out of this one, I think the Academy just wasn't ready to give an Oscar to a gay cowboy.

Turns out I'm not the only one who wasn't as open minded as I thought I was. Go rent it!

The Not-So-Great Depression

$85,000. Seems like a lot of money, doesn't it? That's because it is. And I'm drowing in it. Between $80,000 worth of student loans, my car loan, and my one remaining credit card that I am trying to pay off, I am dying in my debt. Somewhere between Van Dyke and Lahser I started crying, and I can't stop. I look at my degree from the University of Michigan hanging on the wall of my bedroom, where I still live in my parents' house, which is so far from being paid off it's absurd, and I honestly question whether or not it was really a good idea to have gone to school there. If I had known everything I know now back when I was 17, I think there's no way in hell I would've ended up going to school there. Or I would have, and studied engineering instead.

I know it's not my mom and dad's fault, but it is. And I know it's not my fault, but it is. And I know it's not because the economy in Michigan is so fucking crappy, but it is. It is everything and it is nothing and it is all day, every day, 24 hours a day, nonstop.

I've always been a smart kid, since I was 3. I find it hard to believe that my parents never realized that I'd be going to college one day, in fact I know they wanted me to go college, yet they saved nothing for it. Didn't prepare at all. Mom said to my 17 year old self, "If you get into Harvard, we'll pay for it, I don't care if I have to clean teeth till I'm 80, you'll go." And my 17 year old self thought, "Well OK, if you say so."

But now I realize that I want my mom to be able to retire. She deserves it. She's the hardest working woman I've ever known in my life, and if anybody on this earth deserves a relaxing retirement, it's her. It breaks my heart to think of her not getting that, because I just had to go to U of M! But why do I feel responsible and guilty because my parents did not have a financial plan that included me going to a school like U of M?? I mean it didn't help that dad got sick, of course, but even if that hadn't happened I think we'd still all be drowning in this mess. When they said go, I didn't question it, I was 17 and I trusted that they knew better than I did. But apparently none of us knew. And now I see my mom come home from work, and she's tired and she's frustrated, and I see my dad unable to work, and he's tired and he's frustrated, and I see my brother not really care if he works or not, which makes my parents tired and frustrated -- and I really want my mom to be able to retire. So that she can garden and read and walk the dog. So that she and my dad can go fishing.

It hurts me so deep in my heart that I now think of my education as pointless. I've been working 2 jobs for over a year now and neither one of them requires anything remotely close to the level of education that I have. A monkey could do what I do. All my education is helping me to see right now is what a fucking waste of time and money it was. And it helps me kick people's asses in Scrabble. And I know that what I learned while I was at U of M includes so much more than what I learned in class, but still, I am gasping for air and feel like I am about to die and none of that is good to me dead.

I think about my friends, the amazing friends that I made and how much I love them and how much I miss them and how far away they all are and how I don't have the money to visit, and don't have energy to call them because the last thing I want to do when I come home from having talked on the phone all day is talk on the phone. And I know that at this rate it's only a matter of time before they really aren't friends anymore. They'll just be the people I used to know when I was younger, and I'll be nonexistent to them. I think about what I learned about myself and what I want out of life, and what I learned about love and what I want in a man and a husband. And then I think, "What was the point?" because any man with half a brain would be insane to marry me with all my baggage. I've got more baggage than Louis Vuitton... and it's probably more expensive too. I feel less than worthless. $85,000 less than worthless to be exact.

I think about what I want my future to be like and how I want to have a career that I actually enjoy, where maybe -- God forbid -- I might make a little bit of money. How I want to get married and be somebody's wife, and have kids and be somebody's mother. And I want to be able to have a home and sign my kids up for every extra thing they want to do whether it's piano lessons or gymnastics or scuba diving or hockey or karate. And I want to be able to take vacations and show my kids the whole wide world, so that they understand what a huge mechanism they are a part of. And I want my husband to be able to buy a motorcycle if he wants, or go fishing with the guys and not have to worry about how we're going to buy groceries that week. And then reality sets in that probably none of that is going to really be possible. Not with the way things are going. Not unless I win the lottery.

All of this probably sounds really pathetic and pitiful, and I know that I am feeling sorry for myself, but lately I cannot even breathe because of it. I open my eyes in the morning and I think about my debt. I wash my hair, I brush my teeth, I start my car, I go to work and I think about my debt. It is crushing me and I am so, so tired. I want so badly to be able to go to graduate school but I feel like that would be the stupidest, most selfish thing that I could ever do. I'd just be digging myself deeper. Deeper and deeper and deeper. I want so badly to quit one of my jobs but I could never survive with just the one.

My mom tells me that if I just have faith, everything will be OK. But I don't have faith. I don't see how anything is going to be OK at this rate, and I can't break out of it. I'm sick of always driving everywhere and I'm sick of putting gas in my car. I'm sick of trying to remind Jesse that he should do this or do that knowing that he won't, and I'm sick that as scary as it is I'm actually glad he joined the Navy because nothing else seems to work. I'm sick of the stupid people I talk to on the phone every day. I'm sick of our stupid president and how he turns people against each other when really we are all so much the same. I'm sick of worrying about everybody all the time, and I'm sick of knowing that people worry about me.

I just don't know what to do anymore, and mom's hugs aren't helping, and Shaun's hugs aren't helping, and I'd really love to go see a therapist and a financial planner, but of course none of that is free -- which means I can't afford it.

So I guess I'll just do what I do every night that I sleep here. Go to bed, watch some of my free cable, and fall asleep in all my pillows with Blue Bear in my arms.

Then tomorrow I'll get up and go to work.

No Basketball for You!

So the other night at work the shit hit the fan. For some reason the network (which shall remain nameless) that was supposed to broadcast the Pistons playoff game in Flint -- and all of mid Michigan actually -- just forgot to broadcast it on the standard channel. It was available on the HD channel, for those lucky few who can afford HD TVs and digital cable and an HD converter box, but for Mr. & Mrs. Average Joe with regular old cable (or rabbit ears) they just could not see the game. Period.

I have never been cussed out that many times in a single night before. Even yesterday, the day after the disaster, we still had people calling about it. It's amazing how people think that we actually control things like that. We can't make something appear on a certain channel, we are just the messenger! It's a simple concept really. I have at least one call a week that goes like this, "What channel is XXXX on?" Try looking it up on TV Guide.com, or check the paper, or, as a last resort, just channel surf til your dumbass finds it.

Anyway, in between getting told to, "Shut the hell up," and, "I f*cking hate your company, I missed the whole game last night!" I drew a stick figure cartoon, because I have zero artistic ability, that summarizes the whole situation. I present it now for your viewing pleasure. Toodles!

Fun Weekend

So this weekend was pretty fun. Friday night Linda and Kathy and I went to Roosevelt's in Farmington and ended up getting hit on by the three strangest guys ever. One was tall and skinny with a mouth full of braces who opened the conversation with the classic line, "I almost went to Arizona State,"and two were short -- one with a gigantic noggin and the other with some *huge* glasses that magnified his eyes to about 4x the normal size. Their names were Mike, Mike, and Pat. After a few minutes of politely chatting with them, Kathy mentioned our boyfriends, hoping that would drive them away. But no! That only prompted the tall one to begin complaining about his girlfriend, who was apparently hanging out with some other dude that night. It took us what seemed like FOREVER to get them to leave, and afterwards the bartender came over to us to ask if it had been as bad as it looked from far away. "Yes," we replied in unison, "it was." I must say that it was entertaining though. It's not often you get to see three products of inbreeding that close up.

On Saturday I went to Beth's bridal shower and got to hang out with the ladies of Shaun's family without him around, which was kind of neat. I really love that I genuinely get along with them, especially since I have never, ever dated a guy with sisters before. We had good food at Olive Garden and had fun watching Beth open her presents. She is going to be such a beautiful bride! After the shower I went home to take a nap before meeting up with Shaun and some of his friends from Art Van at the Blarney Stone in Royal Oak.

Yesterday was spent cleaning my room before heading out to Ann Arbor to see Lys since she is in town for her little sister's graduation from U of M. (Holy crap!) I realized that it had been THREE YEARS since we'd seen each other, and it was SO nice just to grab a beer and catch up on old times. Shaun came with and I think he was truly and deeply impressed by the beer selection at Ashley's pub in Ann Arbor. We even stole a pint glass to add to his growing collection! Hooray for big purses.

Anyways, today it's back to work after a lovely three day weekend. It's nice that I only have to work four days before I get two more off again.

Are you people who read this still alive?? I haven't had a comment in eons.

Ready, Steady, GO!

So, I am 7 days in to my 13 straight days of work and I cannot wait for it to be OVER. Somehow, inexplicably, I was scheduled for 21 hours at the Gap this week, after months of getting a 5 hour shift every two weeks. With that on top of the regular 40 hr a week grind I am one tired little lady. I wanted to put some pics of the eggs that I decorated for Easter up here, since they came out SWEET!

It wasn't the same making them without Nik or Steph there, but I had a lot of fun with Georgana and Cameron, who came over and experimented with the dyes and stuff.

On Easter Shaun and I went to his mom's for brunch, but I couldn't stay because I had to be at work at 1:30. Mom cooked up a storm here as well and I enjoyed the leftovers.

Last night Shaun and I crashed his friend Laura's wedding. (Well we didn't really crash, we just went to the reception to see Laura, get our groove on, and dig on the free bar.) It was really neat since she was Shaun's prom date in high school, some of his other friends from high school were there as well, all girls, and it was fun to meet them all. I think Shaun had a really good time seeing everyone again too.

Now I am off to change into some jeans and a tee shirt and then head out to dinner with my baby. We're in for a relaxing night of movie watching (and perhaps Scrabble playing!) since I am so exhausted after my loooong work week.

Emergency 911

While driving home from Shaun's this morning I found myself listening to the morning crew at 95.5 talk about the whole 911 thing that's going on in the Dirty Dirty D right now. For those who don't know, Jeffrey Fieger, former gubernatorial candidate and defense attorney for Dr. Jack Kevorkian, has taken the case of a woman who called 911 in Detroit after having been shot five times only to have the 911 operator accuse her of making a crank call, tell her to put someone else on the phone to confirm the injuries, and deadpan, "You wouldn't still be alive if you were shot five times!" The woman who had been shot (and yes, she'd actually been shot five times) ended up hanging up the phone and calling back two hours later, when emergency vehicles were FINALLY sent to her home to discover the five bullet wounds in various parts of her body.

This has brought to light another call to 911 in Detroit by a little boy who called to report that his mother had been shot only to be admonished in a highly unprofessional manner by the operator that, "When the police get there you gonna be in trouble!" On the radio this morning they played the tapes back to back in an attempt to determine if the same 911 operator took both of the calls, but it was too hard to tell. I personally think it sounded like two different people, which is even more disgusting than the idea that just one person in the world could do that.

The 911 switchboard, or whatever it's called, claims that 25% of the phone calls it gets are prank calls, and they "train" their operators to try to weed out the prank calls. Excuse me, but last I checked I thought it was illegal to call 911 if it's not a bonafide emergency. If I call 911 and only get to say, "HELP! I live at blah blah blah, I've been shot--" and then my would be murderer cuts the phone line, I want to be DAMN sure that at least one cop and one ambulance are en route to my house within 1 minute of that disconnect. That's why I pay taxes. There are kids, and stupid people, in this world who will call 911 as a joke, but nothing will put them off thinking it's funny like having a fully uniformed Detroit cop (or two) show up at your door ready to bust somebody's shit, only to find out that little Billy thought it'd be a giggle to call 911 and hang up 5 times while his mom was in the shower.

As much as I want to criticize Detroit's government for this, I suppose I can understand why they do this. It costs a lot of money to send a cop out on a 911 call, and it takes him or her away from whatever else they were doing -- which in the D is a lot. If it turns out to be a fake call I'm sure that they'd rather not have sent a squad car out because of the financial factor, in spite of the fact that that is probably the best deterrent to prank calls. (Little Billy tells his friends what happened when he did it, so they tell their friends, who tell their cousins, and pretty soon every kid in the neighborhood knows that the S.W.A.T. team shows up when you prank 911.) It would be too easy to criticize Detroit's government for cutting money from the Police Department (and the Fire Department, and Public Schools, etc.), and it wouldn't really be fair because they've had to cut money from EVERYWHERE because there is NO money....

But how much money did the Detroit casinos earn in 2005? And what percentage of that amount went to the city? Right. That's what I thought.

Who Says Blondes Have More Fun?

Not me, that's for sure.

Time For a Change

Yep. I think it's time for a change y'all. I'll keep you posted.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

It's an odd moment in a child's life when you realize that your mom is just a person; like any other person except infintely more spectacular than any other person you've ever met because, well, she's your mom. And when I say, "because she's your mom," the spectacularity of it comes not from the fact that you are you and she has the fortune to be your mom, but rather from the fact that she was responsible for your creation, and had she never existed, perhaps exactly the way she existed, you might not be you. (You know, a butterfly flaps its wings in Hong Kong and so on....) What's even weirder, is when you realize that you are exactly like your mom. Cheekbones and all.

Tonight while nosing around through some old photo albums I stumbled across a couple of my mom's old scrapbooks from when she was in high school and college in Wisconsin in the late 60's and early 70's. There were a bunch of letters from her then-boyfriend and now ex-husband, John, and a somewhat startling number of the exact same picture of him. I think it must have been his senior picture from high school and there were, honestly, at least 20 of them. I mean how many times can you give a person the same freaking picture of yourself?? From the other items in the scrapbook (cards attached to flowers he'd given her, birthday cards, anniversary cards, etc.) I've decided that he was -- officially -- a bit creepy. Youth may have had something to do with it, but I am SO glad she decided to eventually procreate with my dad, and not him.

Looking through the pages I started to wonder if maybe I shouldn't be looking at some of it, but then I remembered the box of old letters (and probably about 15 of his 8th grade picture in various sizes) that I have of Brantley's (and whoever else's) that is buried in the depths of my closet. There's a reason that I still have all my old journals, and there's a reason I still have that box and just can't seem to throw it away. It's so that someday, God willing, if I have kids, they'll be able to discover that stuff and go, "Oh my God! This reminds me so much of me I can't believe it!" Just like I did tonight.

Going through her old clippings was fun because it was like going back in time. Postage stamps were 6 cents, and all the postmarks say "Titletown USA" with a little outline of a football, obviously honoring The Packers. There was the page from up above in one of them, which has the autographs of a bunch of old Packers players, including Bart Starr! I also found out that my Aunt Annette once got to meet Vince Lombardi because she and two other women organized a Flag Day for a Packers' game, when a bunch of people in the crowd had little miniature USA flags, and she made the paper with him.

She had the Green Bay newspaper from when we landed on the Moon (1969?), and the photo of Neil Armstrong's first steps on the lunar surface took up the entire front page, the way the Twin Towers falling did on just about every newspaper from September 12, 2001. She had pictures of guys she must have thought were dreamy, Paul Newman, Robert Redford, Ricky Nelson, the cast of Bonanza got its own page, and a bunch of other dudes I couldn't recognize if someone paid me. She had report cards and birthday cards and pictures and ticket stubs. She had the receipt from when she got the cat we still had when I was a kid, Yossarian. Apparently he was a birthday present from her ex-husband on her birthday in 1971. They paid $3 and some change for him at the Humane Society. I still remember when that cat died. He was something insane like 18 or 19 years old. My mom cried so hard. I suppose that kitty cat had been through quite a bit with her. I remember reading Catch-22 in 11th grade and thinking, So that's where the name Yossarian came from..... Why the heck did they name the cat that?? I always just called him Yo Yo Kitty.

This photo is from when she was Ado Annie in her high school's production of Oklahoma!, she also had the newspaper article that was written about it, with the part about her underlined in what what was once blue ink.

She also had these odd magazine ads that all featured cute babies, some with cute animals next to them. She had a few cutouts from bridal magazines, one that's double-sided and has the two most hideous looking wedding dresses I have ever seen in my life on them, but which were probably very in style in the early 70's. See for yourself:

I can remember my mom telling me that the only thing she ever really wanted to do was be a mother. While I have never felt that way myself about my own life, I always considered that piece of information to be important, somehow, for the relationship I have with my mom. She's more than just a mom to me, she's my best friend. She's my biggest cheerleader, my biggest supporter. I think I've probably given her a lot of crap about mistakes she's made along the way, but I suppose that's because I never really realized that she's just a person until recently. She was always The Mom, and Moms were supposed to do certain things and not do certain other things and I gave her hell when, in my 12-year-old opinion, she was messing up. But she loved me right through it, and she still loves me, and she'll always love me, even when I lay on a guilt trip of Catholic proportions. So if she gets pissed that I read her scrapbook and thought it was cool enough to put up here then I suppose she'll forgive me for it eventually. Right mom?

ZZZZZzzzzzzz.......

I am so tired that my brain has become incapable of making sense.

While editing my resume and listening to Pulp Fiction play in the background (the actual movie, not the soundtrack), it ocurred to me that I should update my blog. What to discuss though? I've thought about a lot of things today. For example, I think Tavis Smiley and Bill Maher are right about black men in America when they say that they have generally shitty role models in rappers and pro-athletes. Most young black men will never grow up to be rappers or athletes, they should dream about growing up to be teachers and journalists and doctors and lawyers. Boring? Maybe. But real and achieveable? Definitely.

Also, I think that Ralph Fiennes is my favorite actor of all time. The English Patient is in HBO On Demand right now and I still cry every time I watch it. Although I also think that Christian Bale deserves more credit, Ewan McGregor is the shiznit, and Jamie Foxx is still loveable in spite of having made Stealth. (I mean c'mon Jamie, you need to fire your agent over that one -- seriously, seriously awful. And I didn't even see it.) And I think I have a non-lesbianesque crush on Natalie Portman, because she is outstanding in V for Vendetta. (Which, incidentally, the New York Times completely trashed, but I think is excellent.)

Or, I could think about how pretty soon I get to headbang with Nikki at the SOAD concert in DC in August.

I can't wait to move in with Shaun. (I promise I'll keep my headbanging to the car baby.)

Chocolate sounds stellar right now, but alas I have none. *sniff sniff*

Hopefully I get the job with the United Way, or at least a job as somebody's personal houseplant waterer, because every day when I come home from work all I want to do is stab myself in the eye with a pen repeatedly.

I think I have to sneeze.
...
...
...
Nope. I don't.

Summer could not possibly take any longer to get here.

I apologize if there are type-os.

One

Shaun and I went out last night to celebrate the first wonderful year that we've spent together. Officially, tomorrow marks one year, but since I have to work tomorrow night we went out last night. He took me to this nice little Italian restaurant called Picano's (which was in Troy I think) and then we went to go see V for Vendetta for the second time. (We saw it last weekend and loved it, so we decided to go see it again!)

It's hard for me to believe that we've been together for a whole year already. I feel like the time has just flown by. I always have so much fun with him, and I wake up with so much excitement about what will happen with us in the future, that the year ended up just whizzing by.

Thank you baby for everything that you do, I love you from the bottom of my heart! Smooch!!

Everybody Loves an Irish Boy

Our St. Patty's Day fun


So yesterday was St. Patrick's Day. (Also my mom's birthday, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!) Shaun and I woke up at the absolutely unheard of hour of 5:oo A.M. to get ready to go downtown to the Old Shillelagh (pronounced shi-lay-lee) to start the day off right. (Well, I got up at 5, because I had do my hair and my makeup and take a shower, he slept til about 5:50.) When we got downtown at 6:45 there was a line almost down the next block to get into the bar, and it continued to grow as we waited for the doors to open. By the time we got inside and got our first beers it was about 7:30, and it was a great start to a fun day. I found out that we even made it on the morning news because Shannon called and left me a message saying, "We saw you and Shaun on TV!" We met up with Jeff at the Shillelagh and then went to the Anchor for lunch. From there we went to Gusoline Alley in Royal Oak where Shaun's cousins Matt and Nathan met up with us, then on to Renshaw's in Clawson, and then all the way out to O'Malley's in Farmington to meet up with my fam to celebrate Mom's birthday. Needless to say, it was a day of marathon like endurance.

Shaun popped right out of bed this morning, in spite of the tremendous amount of Guinness he drank yesterday, and I, the DD yesterday, was thinking, "Just 10 more minutes, just 10 more minutes of sleep and I'll be OK!!" Hahaha....

Watching Shaun, Nathan, Matt, and Jeff yesterday I realized that Irish boys are great. They don't mince words, they are adorable flirts, and they can hold their liquor (or their Guinness, as the case may be). Plus they're just cuties. Three cheers for Irish boys! (Especially mine, I love you baby, hope you had fun yesterday, cuz I sure did!!)

Guinness for Breakfast

Happy St. Patrick's Day! And Happy Birthday mom!! Be afraid, be very afraid. It is six on the button on my day off and here I sit, awake, dressed, makeup and hair done, so that we can go downtown and celebrate St. Patty's Day. Shaun is excited about having a Guinness for breakfast. I really want a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit from McDonald's.... But since I gave up fast food for Lent I will not let myself be weak!!

Check back later for some fun audio (maybe) and pictures of our (mis)adventures in the D for St. Patty's.

Oh, and did I say HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!!?????

Enemy Territory

So last night Nik and Linda and I went up to East Lansing (gasp!) to go see Nik's friend, Bob, who worked with her at the Senate last fall. It was pretty chill, beer and pizza and NCAA basketball on the TV, but it was fun. And we looked hot, but then again we pretty much always look hot, right ladies?!?! Hahahahaha.....

The Ex-Girlfriend Dilemma

Earlier today I spoke to an ex of mine who happend to mention that should his current girlfriend find out that he'd spoken to me he'd be, "in trouble." And I thought, Well that sucks, what the hell is that all about, where does she get off??

After we got off the phone it occurred to me that I am the biggest hypocrite on the planet.

While I consider myself to be cool with the fact that Shaun occasionally talks to his ex or has lunch or coffee with her, I know that I am not exactly comfortable with it. While I would never ever tell him that he couldn't speak to her or see her ever again, I still know that there is a fine line there, and should it ever be crossed I know I would be pissed. I put my trust in him, in his neverending honesty with me and vice versa, and I talk to him if something makes me feel awkward. I hope that Shaun never has to say to her, "If Maria found out we talked today I'd be in big trouble."

On the other hand, I really want the girl to keep her distance. I know that I can never really know what happened in their relationship, that will forever be between the two of them. And while I know that my opinions about it, and my perception of it don't really matter in the grand scheme of things, I know that he used to think she was the one for him, and that she broke his heart, and she will therefore always be undeserving of so much as a smile of his, let alone a friendship. But that's probably how my ex's girlfriend sees the end of my relationship with him. I was the one who did the leaving. So how can I blame her for feeling that way?

The difference with me is that I know that Shaun is a grown man. He can take care of himself and he can grant his friendship to whomsoever he pleases. And because I love him, and because I respect him and the relationship that we have, I have to trust him. I love to trust him. And I know that each of us cares infinitely more about our current relationship than we do the remains of things that were so broken and destroyed the only remaining option was abandonment. So while I know that neither of us would ever forbid the other to speak to an ex, I also know that if that were to happen, the ex would be forsaken, because if you care about what you have with someone you have to respect that above anyone else from the past, friend or not.

It's nice not having to worry about it though.