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
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Thursday, September 28, 2006
I lie here with a retched pain in my back watching my tivoed Project Runway (my secret dream would be a fashion designer...I can barely thread a sewing machine, I'd have to hand sew EVERYTHING!!). It is a searing pain that started as a pinch and throughout my day as a standup comedian/slave driver forced me to walk with my ass sticking out (further than usual) and bent over like a was horrible, I felt like an idiot shuffling around with the pain clearly exposing itself on my face. Pain, however, was not on my mind last night.

Last night I was skipping around the house and grinning like an idiot because I got laid. Ah, when will I grow up?? I am like an endearing, horny teenage boy when I get sex, I look grateful...I act all goofy, I do a little dance...I'm probably a little annoying. While most adults lay exhausted in the afterglow, or puff on a post coital cigarette--there's me singing a little ditty, "I got a piece of asssss, yeah!" (I wish I was kidding you, but I'm not).

Oh and I'm a genius for picking berries and whipped cream for dessert last night. I'm not a huge dessert fan but if I got to have dessert like that, I'd definitely be a dessert lover!!

(Ok, shitty post but I'm in pain...bottom line, my husband gave me some seriously good sex last night, my back now kills. If it has anything to do with the sex I'm getting too old too quick).

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Monday, September 18, 2006
A room with a view...

Yesterday after a devastating loss for the Eagles, John and I said goodbye to our friends and congratulated Chelle (remember her??) on her fabulous engagement and then started making out after they left. Once John got naked and then stripped me of all my clothing, he pulled me up off of the couch and led me through the kitchen and into the dining room. I was a slight bit confused at first until I saw him push the clutter off the granite table top and then I completely understood where this was going and it made me grin.

After several minutes of being laid out on the cool granite in front of our large windows (no pun intended...ok, it was kinda intended) I saw that my boy was distracted. He kept looking out of our very sheer sheers (as seen above and then he said, "That weird neighbor across the street just came home and he won't stop staring...". (aside: he's SUPER creepy, creepier than perhaps neighbors who like to bang in front of windows) "Can you really see in here, that clearly?" (hence the reason I added a yeah, you can really see in and out pretty darn clearly!!)

"Let him watch," I said, "I don't mind one bit...don't stop!" But eventually, even I got creeped out so we moved onto the living room floor, which turned out to be perfect timing because then a bunch of kids came out of their houses and started playing basketball in front of our house. I may like exhibition but, I don't think I want a corruption of minors charge slapped on me!

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Friday, September 15, 2006
All tied up

Yesterday I got an email that told me to wear my hair in pigtails, black panties and drink a little to get ready...hmm to get ready??

To get ready to be blindfolded and tied up! I've never had either done to me before so I was anxious, excited and full of anticipation...and so I dressed up in some new lace panties, a white button down, a loose tie, my glasses and pigtails grabbed myself a beer and waited...

I wasn't disappointed. In fact, it was the single hottest experience of my life. The fact that I never did the whole bondage thing before was because I've never trusted anyone completely before to allow myself to give up full control like that. And let me tell you...the experience was liberating, intoxicating and many times...breathtaking.

For nearly two hours, I had someone intent on making me happy...taking a little here and there but mostly giving. And then there are the pictures. I was amazed to see myself looking sexy, it was kinda cool seeing things through John's (and the camera's eyes). Plus I think it renewed John's faith in my promise that since we got married I wasn't going to slip into the "I only want it missionary, and I only want it once a week." Although, I think he already knew in his heart of hearts, that will never be the case!

Ok, back to being wifey...this place is a mess--but all I can seem to do is grab a beer from the trusty bar in the basement and sit in front of Law&Order waiting for Johnny to come home. Have a good weekend y'all!

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Sunday, September 10, 2006
A New Lesson
I came out with my white tank top that said, "Unwrap Me"...a tank top that screams, "I didn't really need to spend $29.50 on a Kfed wannabe tshirt" but I did...but in my great defense, I bought the shirt three years ago for my first Christmas Party.

The point I'm try to make is that my breasts strain against the shirt, my nipples darken the whiteness and make it impossible to go without a bra. I heaved them, I sucked in as much as humanly possilble so that the washtub looked a little more washboard. I got...
"They better not lose to the worst team in the league."

In other new...
John's pretty much the most attentive lover I'ver ever met ( the words attentive and lover make me want to gag...but I didn't want to say that he picked me up and spread my thighs across our bar...but that's what you wanted to hear, isn't it? You sick bastards)
I know plenty 'bout sexing...
I know nearly nuthin' 'bout football...

I will learn.

That bastard (known as my husband) stole my NFL virginity...willingly...
Next year, I'm totally going to blow him out of the water in his fantasy football league.

Good luck Johnny. Good fucking luck.

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Saturday, September 09, 2006
Powerwashing our enormous deck...
Painting the basement a lovely burnt orange that looks better than it sounds...
Drinking mass quantities of beer out of the kegerator...
Going back to work and dealing with the work load and the personalities of a brand new group of 159 hormonally challenged people...
Going back to grad school to finish this program...(a short story workshop!! Egads man! I write creatively everyday, why does this class put the fear of God in this atheists soul?? Probably because there's more work involved than creating the world in 6 days, even with one day of rest...Jeez.)
Dealing with/planning around a new commute...
Making sure there's time enough for the two of us and that we both feel loved, needed, cherished, desired and all that important stuff...

That's what we've been doing collectively (I have to admit, I've done very little of house transformation), and thus I've neglected my blog (and you guys, my lovelies). But it won't be forever, I refuse to let this ship go well as my daily recounts, I might just put my short stories and ALL THE FREAKING OTHER THINGS THIS LADY MAKES US WRITE PER WEEK up here so that you can help me polish stuff up.

The scariest part?? Writers block. I have no idea what to write about unless it's about me.

Fucking narcissist.

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Sunday, September 03, 2006
I am a catch, people!
Last night I sat on the front step trying to convince my husband that it was 7:30 am when in fact, it was 7:30 pm...

This kegorator is going to be the death of me...

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Friday, September 01, 2006
Someday we're gonna be saints...for putting up with each other
Let me start with saying I'm blissfully curl your toes, wrap up in a warm blanket and read a favorite book for the 9th time (what? am I the ONLY person who likes to reread books??)...happy. one wants to hear about that...and I am to please. For your reading pleasure, I have a tale of both of us behaving badly.

We'll start with me and I'll tell you John's phone/behaving badly story another time.

I was feeling sick the other night...first I had the shakes and the chattering lips. Then, as soon as I crawled into bed I started to sweat uncontrollably (hot,no?). John sweetly climbs into the bed and spoons me, comforts me and was an all around good husband as I lost 3/4 of my body weight through my pores (wait...that would be a dream...I think I lost maybe an ounce). We go to sleep...well...John goes to sleep, I sleep fitfully, moan intermittantly and toss and turn constantly. All these things I would've done pre-marriage...I wasn't going for high drama, it's just I'm not totally used to people witnessing my dramatic/sick act.

Well...the sick act makes the dog restless. She can't sleep if I'm constantly moving around so she hops off the bed. Then every time I fall asleep, she comes over and sticks her wet nose on my arm or she burrows under my arm--lifts it, trying to move it so that she can crawl into the tiny space between me and what's left of the surface space of the mattress--she's 60 lbs and there was room for a 1lb rat--I believe that her ultimate goal was to heat me up further, as I was a few degress short of the Sun's core temp. Her actions made me groan/grumble/moan further...which would occassionally wake John from his sprawled slumber (it's amazing that when you're sick, you begrudge your husband every extra inch he takes up on the bed).

Like a bear coming out of hibernation, he barely waits for an explanation for my moaning/rolling bitchfest and when I finish my weak little (barely) sick story he says, "You gotta be fucking kidding me...". To which I get testy and say, "I am not fucking kidding you, why don't you just go back to sleep and I'll take care of myself?" My laser beam glare cut through the darkness as I rolled toward the wall and away from the man who was being "soo incredibly insensitive at 4:30 am..." (that's a joke)

The rolling and moaning continues until he wakes again and this time, feeling bad for me he says, "Do you want me to go get you some aspirin for the aches?" But his niceness was thwarted by my evil shriveled heart. "No, no...I wouldn't want you to do anything for me when I'm sick...I'll just go get some myself!" Cue stomping down the stairs, banging cabinets, slamming on the faucet and pounding the water glass onto the countertop (Did I ever tell you that I was a spoiled only child and that when I was sick, my parents treated me very, very well...yes, well...don't do that to your kids). Cue stomping back upstairs, flinging covers and getting back into bed. And then, a miracle-- I fell asleep for five minutes. To be awakened by a wet nose and nudging--every fifteen minutes before the alarm clock went off. At some point in all of this, John woke up again and offered his support and his willingness to take care of me. Again, Satan rose from within me and I said, "No thanks, I'll just call my mom after work and maybe she'll help me out." (First of all...what??? and second of all, what the hell would my mom be able to do about a minor flu??)

I'm happy to say that I apologized for my erratic behavior and mean rebuffs for his care...but this is when it gets hilarious. I apologized and then I started a diatribe on the dog. See, I was still annoyed about the constant 15 minute wake up call/her climbing on the bed and sitting on my chest when she climbed up on the bed and laid down to get her belly rubbed and her foot accidently scratched my face I went ballistic...I turned onto the dog and said (to my favorite and most dearest creature aside from my husband), "And you Motherfucker, kept me awake all fucking night, get the hell away from me!!" (don't hate me, blame my lack of sleep/flu symptoms). She looked stricken and said to me with her eyes, "You promised to love, honor and obey me...why hast thou forsaken me?" So of course, I had to apologize to her, nuzzle her belly and rub her. But then she made a false move...she annoyed John. And John said, "You little motherfucker..." (and I don't remember the rest of his rant to her...but I did remember that we both called the poor canine a motherfucker in under 3 scant minutes)...this is where it gets funny (not the verbal abuse to the dog)...I turned on him for daring to yell at my dog! The very same dog that chooses to nail him in the balls at every opportunity she can get, the dog that bit deeply into his thumb and caused half of his life blood to spill out onto our deck amongst millions of other things that she does to him (and only him).

Most of the time, I'm a good wife...but I have to say that my husband is getting very good at dealing with my crabby/spoiled child ways. So all's well here at our happy home...we snipe at each other occasionally(even the dog gets her two barks in) but we apologize quickly, hug lots and swap DNA every opportunity that we can get