This is blog of a woman who didn't know what she wanted and so chased after dreams and men in search of the answers...drunken hilarity ensued. Then one day she met a man who was everything she wanted, but he wasn't so sure. Then she did the unthinkable; after they broke up she gave him this blog address and she let him into her mind as well as her heart. Unbelievably, even after sorting through the sordid archives of failed relationships, one night stands and her lusty (and embarassing) pursuit to secure the heart of a certain young line cook, John somehow managed to fall in love with her too. Melina and John were married a little over six months after they started dating, running away to Las Vegas to seal the deal. You can imagine what the over/under bet was to see if they'd even make it a year!! Over a year later and they are still going strong...this blog has become their story. Need to tell me something? Email me at Melinalovesjohnny at gmail dot com
Check out my other blogs:

igotyourtexts.blogspot.com

melina310.wordpress.org
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Thursday, June 29, 2006
It might be time...
Time to shed this old skin, this old life and start a new blog to go with my new life. I don't see giving up blogging up altogether as something I have to do, however, the earlier comments on the post (that I had thought to be completely innocent) about me laying out and enjoying the summer sun makes me think that this blog won't be condusive to me having a happy marriage. It's not that I don't understand...when I was single, when I was open to sharing aspects of my life that I probably shouldn't have in the first place, anything could go. But now, there's a privacy factor, and there's the respect I have for John. I'd rather not damage that.

So...I'm going to mull this over, talk to John about it and probably pack up and start somewhere new. It seems like all the rage these days anyways (nodding to NJ, Viv, Blondie and a few others that I know).
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
The shy one in the family
John and I took the dog back to the dog park near his house. The first time we went it was fairly a disaster. The dog just sat with us and foamed at the mouth with fear that the other dogs were going to sniff her ass. So basically, my girl who is typically praised for being the prettiest canine of them all, looked like she had one mean case of rabies.

This time we took her and it was even less fun...if that's even possible. John and I tried to get her to play with the balls that were littering the park, but she turned her little brown nose up at them and looked as us as if to say, "Why, in all that's holy do you keep bringing me to this little doggie prison?" and then she would trot off to the gate to figure out how she could escape.

We attempted to make her jealous by having a game of catch on our own. That too, failed miserably, although we had a nice little catch on our own. It was clear though that John wanted one of those other dogs...the dogs that were chasing each other, sniffing each other's butts, some were actually playing with their owners!! He looked wistfully at the little pug puppy who was happily biting on the heels of a beautifully brindled pitbull. He perked up a little when the ugliest dog in America came in (named Macy) because at least he could say that that dog was both ugly and anti-social. We gave up after about a half hour of coaxing her to play with us. Pretty much the only exciting thing she actually did at the dog park was poop...and that wasn't the interaction we were really going for.

So...I'm not sure if she's shy, or if she's just a snob. Her "people" (john and I) aren't ones to be overly shy, so we don't know what to do with her. If it's just snobbery?? I can handle that one!
The Chocolate Trifle...
Ladies...gents, if you ever want to impress your other half and you're not much of whiz in the kitchen then might I suggest that you try making the chocolate trifle. It's a little layered treat of chocolate cake (cubed up), a layer of chocolate instant pudding, a layer of whipped cream, a layer of skors crumbles and chocolate sauce and then you repeat over and over again until you run out of ingredients.

Now before you get all worried, no I'm not going to be posting recipes like I'm Martha Stewart or anything (although we do have something in common). I posted it because of the reactions I got from John and Roommate 1.

I show up with the trifle triumphantly in my hand and set it on the counter so that I can untangle myself from the dog's leash. Almost immediately as I set it down, John carefully digs into the trifle with a spoon...slowly delving into each delicious goey layer. The speed of the spoon increases until John looks up and me with a grin and says, "I feel high from eating this."

Roommate 1 exclaimed, "I can't study for my finals because of that gooey deliciousness in the fridge...first from eating it, and now because I'm preoccupied with when I'm going to dig into it again!"

I felt pretty secure in my trifle making skills at that point, but it wasn't until this morning when John was getting ready for work and he reached into the fridge for the chocolately wonder and there were mere spoon scraping opportunities left.

My work there was done.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Apparently, we are the party...
On Saturday John and I puttered around doing just about nothing as far as I can tell--but somehow it became 7:30pm and we realized that there was very little booze and no beer in the house...this made the two of us nervous, so we flew to the beer distributor, grabbed a case and then decided to make it a movie night.

Blockbuster, ah how I hate thee...
We wanted The Hills Have Eyes, the new version, the old version...any freakin' version! Not there...a shelf space the size of my car, and there were no copies there--wtf? A town the size of the Cornfield means that every single household except for ours was watching The Hills Have Eyes. So then we browsed...and browsed...and browsed--oh and there was that incident where we ran into an old friend of John's and I was a greasy, glasses clad mess who knocked over whole shelves of movies with the flick of an elbow--Good Impressions--that's my middle name. We had been burned with two weeks of disasterous picks. Last weekend we rented Waiting...and then we waited for something funny to happen. We also rented Death Tunnel, which I must say was a stretch as it was an independent horror flick--which I love, but are often hit or miss. It turned out to be one of the worst movies ever made, seriously. The screenplay writer should be left in a death tunnel to die for his sins. We took a deep breath and picked--Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle and The Ice Harvest. Loved both of them. I was going to do a movie review, but that's really not my style. Harold and Kumar was just mindlessly funny and The Ice Harvest was a chance for me to watch my love (John Cusack) on screen. Enough said about that.

By the time we had finished both movies, we had each finished a modest share of the beer and I was surprised to get a text from Chelle asking me what I was doing and that she was on her way over. 1am and we were starting a little party! At 3am, T stopped by after work (no, she's not a stripper!) and John became the ever gracious host, hopping down to the bar and mixing up pitchers of shots. That's right, shots at 3 am! Who knew we were having a little makeshift party?

At some point my meds kicked in from the poison ivy...my mom warned John that steroids make me get very emotional and weepy, and boy did they ever. The first day's always the worst of a Z pack...you have to take about seven pills, uggh. I went out on the steps and started crying...part beer tears (it was 5am at this point) and part med induced. The boy took it all in stride and calmed me down. He promised me that I wasn't an ugly ogre and that he did, indeed, want to marry me. Then he took me inside and made me scrambled eggs and ham before we went upstairs to sleep. Good man, huh?
The Ring

Be properly awed-it's the nicest thing anyone's ever gotten me--and it's the only piece of jewelry I wear aside from a broken $5.00 silver band that I've been wearing since I've been in high school.

It's not the ring that I love so much, it's the man behind the ring...the man who put thought in the diamond, the setting, the inscription--the effort that he put in to make it the best ring for me. It's kind of like the little things that he does everyday, to make sure that it's the best life for us. Although, this ring...is not a little thing. Most of all, I love that it's part of our present and our future.

Because I have chubby fingers that looked horrendous on film, I made John hold the ring while I took the picture.
How I spent my summer vacation...(well the first week)

It was a quiet little weekend until last night. But Karaoke Sunday at a bar which is not a karaoke bar...will be another post all together.

After my night out on Thursday night, I needed a break. Again, let me explain. I woke up on Thursday feeling still hungover from my "limo night" out with the girls in the city. John met us out after he stubbed his toe and ripped off most of his big toe nail, but he was not to be stopped--he wanted to see me, I wanted to see him--what's a little toe nail and a whole lot of blood going to do, stop us? It probably should've, but it didn't. He went back inside his house and wrapped his toe in toilet paper and electrical tape...apparently, only MacGuyver's materials were at hand in a medical emergency in his apartment. See picture. Later on that evening (or morning), I had the express pleasure of pulling the toenail out of the nailbed with a pair of plumbing pliers. It wasn't all that difficult as the entire toenail was already hanging off except for one piece. Sorry if you're squeamish, it really wasn't pretty (but it's looking a lot better now).

I decided to stay in the city with John and continue on to a different bar to hang out with Roommate 1 and Roommate 2 since it was Roommate 2's birthday but, I wasn't really thinking about the fact that I wouldn't be able to get out of the city! It was ok, because I was thinking that I could just get a ride home with Tony after the boys had band practice on Thursday night. I roused myself in the morning to go to lunch with John and then I went back to his house, turned the air conditioner on and tried to sleep it off (this is what happens when you have your first week of summer vacation...you go on a drinking spree to end all drinking sprees, as if you were just turning 21). It's also a tough pill to swallow when you're John, and everyone around you has the luxury of going out until all hours of the night and then all hours of the day to sleep it off! Add the fact that he walks back and forth to work and he had an electrical taped bandage on his foot? Poor kid. I swear I thought about him the whole time I was lying in his bed snoozing.

At around five pm, John's roommates and I decided to go out for half priced Margaritas. John was ever so excited when I called him and told him that he had to come to the bar to pick up his key to the house because I realized that he gave it to me to use and that left him keyless. Well, no one told me that the margaritas were infused with severe drunkening powers--these were no mere mortal Margaritas, they were Margaritas of the gods! When Roommate 1, his friend and I went to the next bar to meet John and the other band members I was already feeling no pain. I was also excited to see how this band practice thing worked...hmm, all members together and yet no music equipment broken out? check. everyone still at the bar? Check. Everyone at the bar drinking 22oz Long Island Ice Teas? check. After a few of those...apparently band practice was ready to begin. For me? It was time to lay in the bed, hoping that it would stop spinning. And then I puked. It was really quite sexy so I don't want to go into it because you'd be all aroused and stuff...But at least I managed to rouse myself from the bed/toilet/praying position and actually go down to the basement to hear them practice.

So Friday I did nothing but recover on the couch and watch the entire day's lineup of The Learning Channel (in which no learning actually occurs--for reals) and then my baby surprised me on his lunch break. He came home and told me that he had something for me...I was hoping for two things--a ham sandwich of some sorts and some hot sweaty sex. You see, I've had poison ivy for a few days, so it kind of put a damper on our fun. Friday I was feeling like poison ivy or no poison ivy, I was having sex...and sex I got! Honestly? It was the only space of time in the day that I didn't feel like I wanted to die. I never did get that ham sandwich, but my other hungers were satiated.

So you see why I needed a nice easy weekend? I burnt myself out with Weds and Thurs. Friday night John and I stuffed wedding envelopes and snoozed on the couch, hoping to nap a little and then head down to the beach for some sun, surfing, and just relaxing. This was not in the cards, it rained all freaking weekend!

Up next? Movie reviews and Karaoke Sunday update...
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Quite the housewife...
Yesterday I did two things that qualify me for the role of housewife extrodinaire...

1. I made a chocolate trifle. What's that you ask? Layers of chocolate cake, skors bar crumbles, chocolate pudding and whipped cream. Keep layering over and over again until your thighs rub together and you wanna scream, "Have mercy!" (um...only sounds right if you do it John Stamos style from Full House)

2. I went down on John at the bar last night. I pretended to drop a dollar bill, and just stayed on my knees a little longer than necessary (the key to a good marriage people is to keep it interesting...I plan on it).

And there you have it, the new Betty Crocker has spoken.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
the sweetest things...

I've seen two of the most beautiful things in the past two days...

First the lilies that John gave me yesterday...beautiful, beautiful stargazers. I wanted to take pictures of them this morning but I felt like a dork, since his roommate was brewing coffee and sitting next to them. I even hung around a little longer than necessary hoping to get him out of the kitchen to no avail.

And then today...I met my oldest friend's first child. When I held him, he farted so loud that we both had the most surprised look on our faces...his mother looked embarassed, while I was just amazed that such a tiny little butt could make such noise!

Poison ivy update from post below: The following areas have the rash on them:
1. under my right eye (soon to be in it)
2. my inner right thigh
3. my inner left thigh
4. Above my butt
5. my pinkie finger
6. and then that one female "unmentionable" area...uggh, this is ruining my happy mood!
I thought I was supposed to go blind?
Someone might've let her dog go out and play outside where that someone knows that there might be some poison ivy. That special Someone might also be particularly allergic to said poison ivy. The dog (seen in post below) might've come over for a good rub down and her owner might've been very willing to give it her. Then...

Then that silly girl (aka Someone) might've decided to drop her pants and think happy thoughts because her fiance was at work and she had nothing better to do with her summer vacation. I'll not elaborate, you catch my drift right?

Or...Someone's dog might've come in from the poison ivy festival and rolled on Someone's thong...

Those are the only two reasonable scenarios that Someone can come up with to explain the fact that she has poison ivy on her inner thigh, above her ass and well...somewhere uncomfortable (like in the backseat of a volkswagon).

Someone called the doctor's office and asked a few embarassing questions as Someone has had this happen to her once before as a child when she used the shiny leaves of three as toilet paper once. If it gets any worse, Someone will be getting a lovely shot in the ass...Let this be a cautionary tale for all of you...you might get hairy palms, you may get warts on your hands, you may go blind--or perhaps you'll just get poison ivy.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Canine Conversations

So there I was, talking to the dog and I said, "Hey Butt Breath, we're going to get to see Johnny tonight!" and she wagged her tail so hard that it smacked the cat that I'm catsitting in the face and it fell over. If I had the video camera on, I would've made a million bucks on America's Funniest Home Videos...alas, I was too busy lying on the floor laughing.

This is John's biggest fan, she no longer holds much affection for me other than the fact that I feed and bathe her when necessary. Traitor.
Missing You...
Hello loves...sorry I took a brief hiatus from the blogging world. I always have something to blog but I often feel bad typing feriociously in front of John because yeah, we spend a lot more time together and yeah there's that whole we get to spend the rest of our lives together...but then again...I'll probably be blogging for the rest of my life too!! Hey folks, I'm no quitter like half the blogosphere!! kidding...I just get sad when my favorite bloggerinos jump ship on me.

Anyways, now that the guilt trip is firmly in place, I'll move on.

Just like any crow or magpie I enjoy shiny things...so it was ever so lovely that John indulged me with a very shiny diamond ring on Thursday night. Imagine this, I'm at the local high school watching the seniors graduate and on my way home I get a text that says, "Let me know when you get home." So I send him one saying that I'm at my house and that I'm hopping in the shower. He replies that he's at thitwbar and that he'll be down to get me. I shrugged and hopped into the shower. HOLY SHIT! That's when my hot water heater decided to whimp out on me and not work. My lungs seized up but I forced myself to remain in the freezing water because I was so sticky from the humidity (Pennsylvania is the stickiest state in the union, I'm nearly sure of it). Well I get out of the shower and I hear John playing with the dog downstairs so I yell down to him, "I'll be down in two seconds, I just gotta get dressed!" He yells back, "Can I come up?" (um, yeah, because he's never seen me naked...is that why he's asking?? Aww so polite) and before I can yell, "Yea!" He's pummeling the stairs and immediately as he enters my dirty clothes laden bedroom he drops to his knee and at the same time whispers, "Will you marry me?" And there I am ladies and gents...topless, underwear at my knees and I grabbed him up from the floor and said, "Yes, of course I'll marry you..."

And the cutest thing? He was nervous. I agreed to marry him without a ring (because honestly? It's gorgeous and all (and it's super gorgeous...) but the ring is just a symbol) but he was still nervous. And then we both sat on the bed hugging, kissing and crying with my underwear still at my knees and I was still topless. I kissed him on the temple and said, "So this is the story I'll be telling my grandkids?" and we both laughed.

I tried to take pictures of the ring but I can't hold the camera steady, so when I get a partner in crime, either Chelle, John or T...I'll make them take it and post it for you.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
I miss my Johnny.

I got my dress today...it looks great, it's beautiful and I feel like a princess in it...but I got it at the expense of seeing my boy.

On the bright side? My mom told me I looked like an angel and then she started to bawl.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Reunion...
The wonders of Myspace never cease...a friend from high school found me and reminded me (aside from the 1,002 flyers sent from the school and the two annoying emails) that there was a reunion this weekend. Now I went to a super small high school, graduating with twelve other people, so when they have reunions, it's a reunion with anyone who ever went to the school and eventually, I'm told as the older folks leave it just becomes a raging kegger. I say this all from second hand knowledge, because I've never been to a reunion and I probably never will.

I listen to people talk about their high school experiences and they sound like the stuff of movies...take the love of my life for instance, he had parties that are legends, he had girls that followed him around and basically acted as his harem and he was the captain of the football team in his high school forray. Me? I was just treated badly...and to this day, I'm not quite sure why--although I have my suspicions.

It's true that I wasn't a vegetarian, unlike 95% of my school community...and unlike the remaining 5%, I made no bones (hee, get it? no bones...ok, I'll stop) about eating meat in front of them. Oh and then there's that little thing about body fat. In high school, I was a rock...I played four varsity sports, I was athletic...but, I had breasts, hips and my period--all things my animal-loving,-not-eating compadres did not have. And apparently, the boys although they liked to look at said breasts, they liked the non-meating girls better...and that's ok, because those boys didn't like to use deodorant unless it came in "natural rock crystal form" and I might've said something about that at one point. Ok, Strike One against me.

It is also true that my dad was covered in tattoos, picked me up from school on his motorcycle, or when he picked me up in his car he was blaring (what is now) classic rock--not exactly the soothing pan flute sounds that were lilting their way out of other parental unit's cars. It's also true that he was slightly more amputated than most of the dads there, which led to me having to explain why my dad had a hook for an arm...I don't believe that they believed that my father had been a Marine...they seemed to think it happened in a bar fight. I didn't dissuade them of this after awhile and I heard many a rumor that made me giggle. All the things I thought were pretty cool, and all my friends growing up thought were cool, or at the very least fairly normal--apparently, these things just earmarked me as 'weird'. Strike Two.

I chose not to bother. I chose not to conform. When I liked punk music and they were all listening to the Grateful Dead, I kept listening to what I listened to. Instead of dressing like a Woodstock reject, I looked like "a public school kid" (that's a true quote). When girls went to the few dances that our school could muster up, I never bothered hoping that someone would ask me...and I made other plans with my friends who actually went to...dare I say it...the public school. And I guess my lack of trying signified that I didn't care (which was completely untrue, I cared)...and from then on out...things were different. Strike Three.

In concentrate, these things all make my whole experience seem horrible. But it's not the case. I wasn't picked on. I was pretty, that went a long way...except...because I was "white trash" I was expected to lay down in the hay bales and put out, while the other girls weren't harassed (which, I'm proud to say, I made it out of that school without kissing a single one of those boys). It was all much more subtle...the underlying sentiment of, "You don't belong here, so don't get comfy." I went to an awesome school...I learned things and experienced things that I would've never had the opportunity to do elsewhere.

I genuinely liked the people in my class...they put up with my quirks and the quirks of my family and 'outside' friends. The people in other classes were a little more brutal and a little quicker to judge. But even liking my class (the WHOLE twelve others), I knew on graduation day that I'd never go back there...I'd never silently let them judge me and that I'd find my own path, my own voice and that I would be happier that way.

And so I have done this--am doing this, it's a process right? While they've globetrotted (I almost said, "spending Daddy's money" but that would be pretty judgemental too, eh?), and had some of the craziest experiences you can possibly dream (for example, one person is an architect in Germany and has been commissioned to create a soon to be landmark...mark my words), I became me. I've had my high points, and my (self inflicted) lows but I'm me. Hips, boobs, quirks...I don't feel bad about it anymore.

So what I'm saying is...I'm damn glad I'm going to a picnic with Johnny and possibly to the beach rather than a stupid reunion. Boy, I sure can ramble huh?
What's that? You want cock? how about John Hancock...
hardy har har...yeah I know..lame.

Today I had to fill out paperwork for next year as our work year ends on Friday...holla! (Who the hell am I? I really can't say)...but I digress...the paperwork. So the paperwork says, "Fill this out if you're going to have a different name when you come back at the end of August." So I thought, "Yep. I will have a different last name." And then I read the next line, "We'll also need your official signature."

What?!?

That's pressure on a girl. I mean sure, I practiced it once or twice...ok, I doodled it about a gazillion times today when I realized that I didn't have my book with me today but..."my official signature"? So, I took a deep breath and signed my name. And to be honest? It kinda looked better than my old signature. And I relished in it, a new name, a better name and an awesome husband to give it to me (I mean 'give it to me' in all ways)

And then I had a moment of panic...what if he decided that I was too messy, too annoying, that I babbled too much, snored/drooled too often and he really was in love with the idea of me? Because I'm sure that the idea of me probably doesn't do any of those things. That's when I shook my head, smiled--imagined him kissing me, making fun of the fact that I don't whisper naturally but have to practice at it and when he randomly tells me he loves me and that he's going to need a kiss and I marched my new signature and my new life up the hall and dropped into a bin of a woman who probably had no idea how much it meant to me.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Like the tide, life is full of highs and lows, ups and downs
The weekend started out with lots of ups and downs. There were way more ups than downs, but the downs were fairly draining...

Up- John had the opportunity to play a show in NYC.
Down- I didn't plan well enough and couldn't make it.
Down-he was detoured about 400 miles out of his way to make it back to me...he left NYC at 3:30am and made it to my house at 6:30am.
Up- I went out with the girls and while I missed John completely, the booze and the company comforted me.
Up-when he got home and my drunken self was able to wake up and snuggle up against him.

Up-we actually made it to the country club where our reception is and booked it!
Down (but not really)-the guy probably thought he was booking the reception of a "real classy couple" I was hung over and John looked like he was going to fall right back asleep...but we held it all together...and everything seems to be falling into place so incredibly easy (maybe this was an up??)

Up- We purchased our invitations (which are awesome and look like a postcard of the Vegas strip).
Up- John "personalized" our invite by wording it just so...in fact I believe it says, "Melina and John totally want you to join us..." Totally. Awesome.

Down- My dog got out of her fence and "ran away"...she ran away about 30 feet when a good samaritan fearing that my baby was going to be hit by a car, picked her up and took her to an SPCA about 30 mins away. Luckily, I had filed a police report and the lady reported to the police that she had picked up a dog and dropped her off at the SPCA...my dog and I were reunited about two and a half hours after the whole tearful ordeal began.

Up- The way John searched for my girl was so awesome. He was so intent on ending this problem, he drove for over an hour scouring our tiny little town, going everywhere possible and directing me where to search on foot where he couldn't get. When I started to cry, he just talked to me in a soothing voice that we were going to find her (although, it was getting to the point where even he was getting uncertain). He drove me around and when the call came telling us where she was, he hightailed it to the SPCA, getting me there in record time. He was so good under the emotional pressure and allowed me to crack gracefully...well as graceful as I can be when I get the ugly cry.

Up- When I misdirected him on the road...because "I just knew that the SPCA wasn't on that road" he looked like he wanted to scold me, but he just gave me a grin and turned around and went back down the road we had already been on.

Up- My mom and her boyfriend were willing to take my little baby in for the evening so that we could still make it down to the beach to pick up a shed that John had promised to pick up. Plus, he might even get to salvage a little beach time (this was not to be, however).

Down-we got down there and it was a scratch...the waves weren't really breaking right...too close to the shore--we were too late.

Up-John had friends coming down to have a little cookout with us.

Down-one of those friends didn't allow the lighter fluid to burn off the coals before he decided to start putting meat on the grill...as a result I've had my first fluid flavored hotdog, complete with his brother the lighter fluid hamburger.

Up- Luckily there was a lot of ketchup for us all to drown the flavor of the food.

Up/Down- John slept in, and finally caught up (mostly) on his sleep. He missed the early morning surf session with his friends.
Up- I had a little extra snuggle time and I "let" him coax me out of my panties when he was rejuvenated from all that sleep.

Up-it was nice out and I thought I might actually get some beach time.
Down- I didn't want to have to lay next to the two very skinny girls that are John's friend's girlfriends.
Up/Down- I didn't have to feel like a beached whale...but that was only because it was cold and cloudy once we got down closer to the water.

Up- John picked up the dismantled shed (for the surf boards), and I met another one of his friends whom I think is great--and I love his gorgeous wife.
Down- there are just under 1,900,342,222,467 screws and washers to put it back together.
Up-there are directions complete with pictures.
Down-we still have to put it back together.

Up-when I was the hungriest girl alive, John stopped to feed me.
Down- I immediately fell into my patented "food coma" soon after chowing down.
Up- John also suffers from food comas and so it was easy to get him to lie down in bed with me.
Up- I coaxed John out of his skivvies before we had a quick nap.
Up-We mutually coaxed each other out of our remaining clothes after the nap.

Up-When John said that he was psyched more and more every day for the wedding!
Up-the kisses...random, sweet and loving.
Up-booking our flight to Las Vegas for our wedding/Honeymoon and coming up with a good deal.
Up- learning that my "perfect soon to be husband" has cute flaws...like his impatience.
Up-knowning that he knows we balance each other out well when I pointed out his impatience and he said, "And that's why I have such a patient wife" (or something to that effect...apparently I'm constantly misquoting him :)

Down-John having to leave me after we picked up the dog, ate some leftovers and watched Resevoir Dogs at about 12:15am.
Up- Knowing that soon, he'll be sleeping next to me every night.


(A Spoiled Brat Up- I get my ring sometime soon!!!)
Friday, June 09, 2006
as if i need another reason...
to smile so hard that my chubby little cheeks hurt...

I get an email that says this, "I love you, madly."
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Guess who's coming to dinner?
In the midst of our engaged bliss and a telephone call later to my mother it was quite evident that my mom, mother to one--namely me, was a little miffed that she had yet to meet the man to whom I had given my heart. So John and I wanted to rectify that. We set up a dinner date for no other day than 6.6.06.

For most of the work day on Tuesday John didn't really have time to be nervous as we were building our registry in tandem online, picking out invitations and trying to find a place to house our reception (which I'm pleased to announce that my future husband has exquisite taste and our reception is going to be kick ass). However, once all the planning stuff became stale he started sending me messages about the impending dinner.

"What should I wear?" and "I'm nervous. And yeah, I know" were among the few hesitant emails that I received. What did he know? He "knew" he had nothing to worry about and that I was going to be right there by his side...not that my mom was going to eat him alive...but I get it. It's not often that you get engaged to someone and you haven't met their immediate family. Little did he know, that my mom was equally nervous and was calling me every fifteen minutes during John's commute.
"What's he like?" To which I rolled my eyes, "Well he's an ax murderer with a penchance for cannibalism...Mom, you're going to meet him in a half hour, I figure you'll know what he's like." Already I was getting worried about the dinner, it appeared it was going to be up to me and my mom's boyfriend to carry the conversation and well, he's a man of few (but hilarious) words. Greeaat...it was up to me.

John arrived perfectly on time and I had been hoping that he had come a slight bit earlier because I had plans on relieving his stress before going to dinner. But, after a few smooches we had to get right on the road to the local surf and turf restaurant. In the car, my adorable fiance (I just like using it in a sentence, sue me), asked me in all seriousness, "Should I roll my sleeves down?" I gave him my evil sidelong glare and said, "Do you think my mom's going to care about your tattoos? C'mon, my dad had like 26! And besides, you have to be you tonight! She's never going to know why I want to marry you if you act all weird..." and then I stopped because I was starting to sound like a Harpy and John was wincing as I was speaking.

We got to the restaurant first and to keep his mind off things I made him stare at the menu (as if he was really looking at food to order), I heard the wheels turning, but at least he wasn't fidgeting or anything. And then the arrival...

The woman who John was fearing came in looking equally fidgetting and continually brushed her long honey colored hair out of her face, although it was nowhere near her face. I groaned inwardly. Awkward dinner here we come. But, I was wrong...it was nice. I'm not saying that we made the perfect dinner companions, however, the steak I was munching on, really made me care quite a bit less how everyone's dinner conversation was going. I started to feel bad for John though because I could tell that he hated his meal...I've never seen John pick at a meal before, and the poor boy was gingerly picking at his food. That's what he gets for ordering Catfish. Who orders Catfish?!?

Everything went well until right before we left, my mom says to us, "Well you guys seem like a really nice couple and I know you want to get married and everything, but couldn't you wait a little?" To which my eyes narrowed like slits (because I don't like being told what to do...or even get suggestions) and John gave me a look and a little shrug and said, "Well yeah, we could..." and then I gave him a glare (traitor!!!) and then I said something curt and ruined the mood of the night, and then I ended dinner with my pouty face (hey, no one ever said I was mature).

We walked out to the cars and my mom said, "I have a present for you two" and I groaned, immediately I knew it was something full of cheese factor. My mom said, "Wanna guess what it is?" and of course I knew, "It's some kind of sculpture where the people have no faces...and sure enough, John struggled to get "The Promise" (that's what it's called, I shit you not) out of the box and there we saw Mr. and Mrs. Blank Face standing in a permanent embrace. It'll be worth the laugh for years to come. I hugged my mom and her boyfriend goodbye, John did the handshaking and we got into his car to go home.

I will forever love Johnny because as he started the car he just looked over at me and said, "My fiancee is completely miserable San Diego" and he made me giggle.

More later...
Monday, June 05, 2006
True Romance...
Well you had questions about the "mushy details" and I've got answers...kinda.

So here's the deal: There we were, sitting together and talking when we decided that we wanted to get married to each other--and from there, the ball got rolling. He's having my ring made as we speak (can you even guess how excited I am??). I got him a little tipsy and I pried information out of him about it...so I know about it, but I've never seen it. We've been kicking around ideas about weddings and we've abandoned the idea of a traditional wedding because hey, we're not all that traditional!!!

So guess what we're doing? I'll give you a hint, "Viva las Vegas!" Yep, we're going to Vegas. When? I bet that's the next question on your mind and this might blow your minds but I think it's wonderful--this July. So at the end of July, I'm going to have a husband and a brand new last name. But those of you who believe that every girl should have the "wedding day experience" don't fret--we're still planning on having a reception here at home with all our friends and family.

When the ring comes, I'll take lots of pictures of it...I'm so enamoured with the fact that he had it made for me--it feels that much more special. When I pick out my dress, which I've narrowed to two different ones, I just need to see which looks best on my short little bod, I'll post those too (although, we'll tell John to take some time off from reading).

And yes, I know, I know..."it's all so quick!" (seems to be a popular phrase I've been hearing--although not from my mom, who said, "When you know, you know...") but I've known since our first date that I could marry him. I know two months into the deal that I wanted to marry him (but carefully cloaked that thought...hey, that would probably scare any man), and now I know that I don't want to wait another minute with formalities, I want to start my life with him now!

Tomorrow...I'll tell you about living arrangements, the cleanup project, etc.