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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Friday, December 29, 2006
Dirty 30
I will be 30 in 69 days. Never has the number 69 seemed so dirty to me in my life.

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It's official. The dog loves John more than me. I've raised this dog for four long years. John breezes in and becomes #1 human, just like that, he's the ONE. In fact, I tried to bribe her for her love today by giving her a little piece of my filet mignon and she took it. Then she looked at me as if to say, "Bitch, I know he's got prime rib in there."

I cannot win.

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Look Ma, no 'stache!
Melina: John, do I look ok?

John: You look prettier tonight than I've ever seen you. Wow, your boobs are getting big!

Melina: Shit!'s just because the rest of me is getting bigger too.

John: You know what your problem is?

Melina: I'm fat?

John: No you can't see yourself from behind. *makes a face like Kramer from Seinfeld and mimes an hour glass shape*

Melina: (looks at bruises around waist) Thanks for man handling me by the way!

John: (places hand in the handprint at my waist as if to check to see if he was the culprit, and looking like he wanted to manhandle me a little more, he looks at me and states) Sheesh!

Fast forward to sitting at the bar waiting for the other two couples at dinner. Melina bores John's pants off by explaining how getting perfectly groomed eyebrows makes you look and feel prettier. She inititates this conversation by grabbing his hand and making him feel her upper lip and saying, "Look Ma, no 'stache!" (I'm classy, yo)

John: So when I said you looked prettier than I ever saw you before...

Melina: MmmHmm, it's the eyebrows!

John: And you do this once a month?

Melina: Thereabouts...whenever I need it.

John: And it's expensive?

Melina: Well...the place I go to yes, but it really is an art.

John: Oh I'm going to be paying for that comment aren't I?

Melina: Oh hells yeah you are...

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Discussions with Mom
My mom is the greatest woman alive. When she's nice, she smells of Christmas cookies, eggnog and all things good and mommy-like. When she's mad at me, she breathes fire and sighs a lot. When we get a-chatting, it takes us forever to get off the phone...keep in mind we live five minutes away from one another and we talk on the phone every day. Today's phone call came in at 49 minutes and 48 seconds and it would've gone on forever but I told her that I needed to go because the house was on fire. She didn't believe me, but she did let me off of the phone.

Mom: So, did you two enjoy your first Christmas together?

Me: Absolutely! It was the best Christmas eva! John rocks (etc...insert all my schmoopy comments here,[can't give Johnny too big of a head, ya know?]).

Mom: (giggles) Really? Lots of Christmas sex? (seems like a random thing to ask, but then again my mom and I discussed my first sexual encounter with John with lots of vim and vigor so it seems normal to me)

Me: Um, no...not much more than usual [note to reader(s): let me not imply that we don't have enough sex, we do--hell, we broke two chandeliers last month from when we were swinging on them! Um, just not when I've hit the sauce and I'm found snoring on the floor...or at least not that I'm aware of]...we had a lot of running around to do, people were always here, I was always drunk and passed know. I'm sure John wanted lots of Christmas sex but he forgot to put the mistletoe on his belt as he was instructed and so I always missed the target area when he put my drunk ass to bed on a nightly basis.

Mom: Oh... (silence)

Me: (*begin internal monologue*oh shit, she's going to be mad because I spent my Christmas drunk...but I did paint a little!! And I wrapped presents...shoot, I should've just said, "Yes") What?

Mom: (sounding like the cat who ate the canary) I just thought maybe I'd get a start on my new holiday wish list.

Me: Huh? the holidays are basically over and you HATE the holidays...retail, Mom, remember?? (sigh) What do you want for next year? (thinking I was going to have to find some elusive 1st edition of Don Quixote and would have to sell my body to afford it and convince John to let me sell my body for said book)

Mom: babies...I want lots of babies!

Me: (knowing full well what she meant) and your bf could...

Mom: No, absolutely not. I am done birthing babies, I'm now grandmother me Grammy from now on!

Me: Uh, no...I think I'll stick with mom. Yeah, mom seems to work best for me.

Mom: (seeming not to hear me, or choosing perhaps she says in a fervor) C'mon! take one for the team! Hasn't John's mom been asking for grandbabies yet?

Me: No...she's not crazy apparently. We've been married for FIVE MONTHS, MOM!

Mom: Yeah, I know...I've been holding this inside for sooo long!

Me: Great willpower Mom, I'm going to go drink a glass of whiskey and go back to bed, ok? (not true but I felt like irritating her)

Mom: Don't you dare!! You stay out of that bed until your husband comes home!!

Me: I'm going...

Mom: I'll pay for it, if it's lack of money or something I'll pay for the baby!

Me: Mom, you're clearly insane...are you suggesting a strange "baby for cash" ring?

Mom: Don't be ridiculous. Fine, I'll try reverse psychology..."I don't want any babies out of you any time soon."

Me: First of all, just said, "Babies out of you" that's just icky. Secondly, I don't think you're supposed to tell me that you're going to use reverse psychology on me.

Mom: Oh grow up!

Me: I think the house is on fire, I gotta go!

Mom: Seriously, I take it can't have babies yet.

Me: Love you too Ma, bye!!!


My mom's biological clock is ticking like a mofo, ha ha. I'm glad John and I have discussed this and decided to wait and enjoy all our time alone...I have a feeling that not only would a baby add more company but so would my mom! I'm sure she would "steal" her and rename her constantly.

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Foiled Again...
Last night John and I went out to dinner with John's brother, his girlfriend and their friends. It was John's first time at this very nice restaurant. It's a legendary place that as children our parents would make the trek without us because it was just too expensive. I remember one magical day (my 16th birthday) that my parents made reservations for me and pre-ordered me the Prime Rib...this prime rib is a's 32-40 ozs of meat on a plate!! I don't remember leaving the restaurant because I think I instantly fell into a food coma after chowing on one tenth of my meal. John faced down this beast for the first time last night.

He was not victorious. He was valiant in battle, he fought hard but in the end the "Old 96er" won out. In truth, we all won because there's a lot of delicious tender beef in our fridge. In fact, as I tried to drift back to sleep this morning as John was getting ready for work, I heard him reach into the fridge and attempt a little sneak attack on the meat.

On another note, we watched more of the family movies that his dad gave to him for Christmas. My new favorite highlights?? John being dumped from a go-cart by his brother...if I could put it up on Youtube I would...and you would all laugh until you cried. My close second favorite? John performing a rap with a friend about Morse Code on stage. These videos are a true Christmas miracle I tell ya. They are the gift that keeps on giving.

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Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Our First Christmas Together
Alternate Title--Thank You Note to John

We spent our first Christmas together and it was better than I ever expected (at this point I should stop being so surprised about how nicely everything works, but if I did, life would be boring). First of all, rather than diamonds, flashy big TVs and cars that were being flashed across all of the holiday ads, you bought me many wonderful gifts that I wanted but didn't interfere with our master plan (for the rest of you: we're no longer using credit cards or spending beyond our means--it's a very simple plan and it's been working fantastically since the end of August. Once we get out of debt, we will be sitting pretty and we will have finished working on the interior of our house!). I cannot express how excited I am about all my shiny new books, my CDs and my gorgeous photograph that perfectly sets off our newly painted dining room. I kid you not, I spread the books out on the floor and rolled on them. The dog helped, of course.

Beyond gifts, I've never had such an overwhelming sense of happiness. I repeat myself all the time about this but it needs to be said. You are the best guy in the world and I'm so happy, so lucky, and so excited that you are my partner in this not quite-as-we'd-like-it-to-be world. Every day I get a gift from you--when you help me turn around this house, when you nicely "teach" me how to become organized and yet, still have the ability to smile at me and kiss me when I slip back into my old ways. The best gift that I get from you every day is being allowed to be my goofy, happy and laughing self. Let me give an example of one of random exchanges (my favorite of the holidays):
Scene: John and I are driving out of the development and heading towards Wawa because we were a little hungover at Christmas dinner and didn't get to gorge ourselves the way that we wanted. We decided to have Christmas Dinner: Part Deux, in the form of six inch hoagies at 10pm. We started talking about something that I cannot for the life of me recall but this snippet stands out.

John: You know, like a rabbit punch.

Melina: A rabbit punch? What's a rabbit punch?

John: You know, like a punch to the back of the head.

Melina: During sex? That's a donkey punch! Who'd want to punch a rabbit?

John: Well, with that reasoning...why would anyone punch a donkey?

Melina: Because he was a bad donkey?

Cue laughter and defining what constitutes a "bad donkey".

(Please be advised that I don't condone the domestic abuse of donkeys, I was speaking in hypotheticals only)

Onto the next part of my thank you note. On Christmas this year, you received about 20 DVDs that your dad painstakingly transformed from all the old footage of home movies over your lifetime. For hours, I was transfixed as I watched you morph from a tiny baby to an adorable cherubic toddler with a mane of blond curls! Before my eyes you became an adorable little boy and then an older brother. You were adorably sweet to your sister, often helping her open her Barbie stuff and taking the time to show her how the elevator worked on her Barbie Mansion. You became the cameraman, and you would carefully set the scene of wherever your family was. You'd capture each member of the family and ask your brother to give you a smile and a wave (when he wasn't running around wrecking havoc on the scene). I felt your awe as you scanned over a Blue Whale on a trip to DC. I saw your boyish enthusiasm when you filmed about 10 minutes of the same plane when you went to the airforce base! I would laugh so hard I would begin crying over your ernestness, and your sweetness in the fifth grade presentation of Johnny Appleseed and other hilarious (yet adoreable) skits. Then you became a sad tweener, slightly awkward and no longer wanting to be in front of the cameras. There wasn't a reason for it, you were still the cutie that you always were...but I remember running away from the cameras crying at the same age, so I felt your pain. We'll skip over some of the other footage that you found "horrifying" and "embarassing" (wrestling and your directorial debut of your first Godzilla movie) and I'll just say that I'm glad my parents weren't always there to film some of my teenage moments of horror. Finally, I saw you come into to your own on the football field. The confident stance that I've comed to know and love was present, your voice--loud and commanding, you were having fun! I should've known that knocking into people would've opened you up! It was an amazing gift to watch the boy evolve and become the man. I love you, and thank you for wonderful holiday.

Love always,


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Thursday, December 21, 2006
Miami Suckfest
I wasn't expecting it to be good. But I wasn't expecting it to be this bad. (Don't read this if you want to see the movie...there aren't really "spoilers" per se, but I do talk about the plot (or lack thereof) a bit.

OK let's start at the beginning. Back when I was just a wee child Don Johnson (Sonny to you) and I had a one sided love affair. He was all like, "Melina, I love you...even though you're a mere five or six years old, I have high hopes for you...and see, I cultivated Melanie Griffith into the fine young woman that she is starting at the age of 15." (Don was a bit of a pervert) And I was like, "Yeah, whatever" and gave him the "talk to the hand" move long before it was popular. At least that's how I remember the story going. My mom and dad remember it otherwise. They would tell you that whenever Miami Vice came on the television that I would sit inches away from the screen and when Don would come onto the screen I would attempt to make out with him by licking and sucking on the glass. (This was when my dad knew there was going to be a lot "boy trouble" in our future...since I was a super horny five year old. Let's not even discuss what I would do when Dukes of Hazzard was on!) So, on with the story.

John and I went to Blockbuster, (the mecca of sucky movies all lined up like ducks ready to be shot down in a game of Duck Hunt) and saw Miami Vice beckoning us. I looked at the DVD case. Colin Ferrel (l?) looked hot in a smarmy way with his sun (peroxide) streaked longish hair and his little furry caterpillar of a 'stache. I instantly wanted to rent this movie, I could feel it in my loins! John saw the words ACTION and he was just excited that I didn't try to talk him into renting The Notebook (I'm sorry, I'm human, I'm fallible and I love that movie even though I LOATHE Nicholas Sparks and all that he represents in his formulaic and ridiculous little tales that everyone calls a "best seller"). So we trotted home content. John got action, I was going to see Colin and then John was sure to be getting action afterwards.

The tape sat around the house. It was kicked under the coffee table, hidden under bills and Christmas cards. It was almost as if...we had regretted renting the movie...could we be a slight bit psychic?? I hope so!! I can see our 900 number commercial, ** dream sequence music here** John has a long prairie skirt on, a kerchief on his head and he shouts in his fake Jamaican accent, "Calll me nnnnow!"*** dream sequence over*** let's let bitter reality wash over us.

We put Miami Vice into the DVD player and almost instantly we were lost. Most of the time we couldn't understand what people were saying because--as John put it--"we just aren't cool enough". Jamie Foxx (Tubbs, to you...Jamie to moi) abbreviated nearly every other word in each uninspired sentence he dribbled out of his mouth. We learned (after rewinding and practicing our fake Cuban/Puerto Rican/too cool for school accents) that the boys were going to be hunting down some no good drug dealing skinheads. Skinheads? Really?? Maybe I shouldn't be saying this but aren't skinheads about as passe as say...stirrup pants? I dunno. But then, a twist! We abandoned the skinheads to hit up the "real drug operation". Cue lack of action for about 20 mins here.

Lots of stuff doesn't happen for a while, and Colin falls in love with an Asian woman who grew up in Havana with her doctor mother. A woman he should definitely not fall in love with as he is a vice cop (and for this movie's purposes, a deputized federal agent)--that's all I'll say about that, I guess that was supposed to be our "complication". In truth, it was complicated because the lovely Asian woman was very hard to understand because her accent was marbly and weird--or I'm an ignoramus, which I'm not discounting. Somehow after sex a few times, Colin falls in love with her...or at least his penis has a protective feeling about her. I'm not sure why because I've had hotter sex with myself than what I saw on my small screen (from either Jamie or Colin)--muy disappointanto (or disappointing...whatever, I never took Spanish, it seemed too practical).

And that's where I'll stop because I don't want to "ruin" the ending for you--because lordy! it was a hum dinger of an ending (not at all...I'm just being nice to Colin and Jamie).

And that's how my love of Miami Vice was dashed upon the rocks of Havana and the docks of Miami within the privacy of my own home. The next time I'm out of Nyquil, I will race to Blockbuster and put Col and Jame into the DVD player and drift peacefully off to Nodsville, sure there was a little gunfire (In fact, at one point I yelled, "It was an unimpressive firefight!" ala Willam Dafoe in Boondock Saints). That was the only source amusement throughout the entire film.

For the love of all that's holy and holey, never rent this movie.
Colin, I forgive you. All my love, Melina

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Don't share your secrets becuase I can't keep 'em!
John and I exchanged all of Christmas presents over the past two days. In fact, not six minutes after I wrapped the presents I handed them to John and urged him to open them with gleefully clapped hands and an impish grin.

And he gave me all of mine.

And I made out like a (geek) bandit. I got ALL the books that I asked for Christmas from Santa. I got three awesome CDs, a gorgeous sepia photograph and...
Seasons one and two of VERONICA MARS!!!! How excited am I? As excited as anyone could ever possibly be. John could attempt to hand me $3,000,000 and I would brush him aside and scold him for standing in front of my home girl Kristen Bell.

My mom yelled at us over dinner last night (with a smile) for opening our gifts early and she and I took a little trip out so that John has more gifts to open on Christmas...shh...don't tell...she bought him lotsa stuff (I think she's gunning for Mother in law of the year or something!?!).

And now for something awesome?? I received something like eight books and I have ten days off from work, it's a blissful, blissful life I lead!

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Monday, December 18, 2006
Making Amends
For nearly three years now there's been a little hole in my heart and I aimed to mend it myself last week.

Three years ago my best friend (not a best friend who has ever been mentioned on this webpage) and I decided to move in together. I had just purchased my first house and her fiance had just broken off his first engagement--she couldn't/didn't want to stay in the house she was renting and I was more than happy to share my home with her.

We moved in. I had two labs, she had a was a nightmare. My dogs were wild beasts and her dog wasn't house broken. You can imagine how I felt when her dog decided to pee on my bed! Bills weren't getting paid on time, and instead of sitting down and talking about it, I left bitchy notes on the counter--attempting to ease the poison of the note by writing in pink ink. I wasn't totally myself. I had stress from my new job,we used to work at Victoria's Secret (as well as another place) together prior to me finishing college. Finally, in the "real world" I realized that a) even though I was making a lot more money I had a mortgage now b) I couldn't really go out like we used to.

And so, slowly...our communication started breaking down. She got a new boyfriend and it became "me" against "them". There were times, when I know if I had just apologized, or if she had done something different we wouldn't have ended on the terms that we did. Her car was reposessed with one of my favorite shoes in the back of her car and I flipped out! I wasn't concerned with the fact that she was in such dire straights...I was pissed over my shoe!!! (Now I shake my head at this). It was one of the last straws.

I came home from work one day and all of her stuff was out of the house. No note, no nothing. I remember calling at her and screaming at her on the phone. Never in my life had I had so much rage and never had I expressed it like a baby.

Three years passed. Slowly. I heard through middle men that she had gotten pregnant. That she had her baby, that she married the baby's father. When the baby was born, I sent a card to her mom's house because I didn't know where she was living. I put my return address on the card but I had never heard from her--I assumed (and still assume) that she didn't want to talk to me. I recently caught word where she was working. It consumed my mind. I needed to talk to her. I miss(ed) her, I would look at our scrapbooks, of all our wacky pictures. I would think of our friendship of about 6 years and working in such "interesting" locations together and I felt the need to speak with her become urgent.

I got into the car last Monday and I drove to the mall. I walked past the store in which she worked and I felt nervous. What if she yelled at me to get out? What if she just said, "Oh, it's you?" I went into Bath and Body Works and bought a candle and I decided to go home.

I walked past the store again and forced myself to go in. She greeted me with a smile. She looked more gorgeous than ever. I was envious of the fact that she had had a baby and looked sooo spectacular. She had the same huge grin, the same giggle and the same awesome fashion sense. She was the same, and yet totally different. She showed me pictures of the cutest two year old you've ever seen, she talked about people who used to be my friends too, she told me how her sisters were, how her mother was...filling in the recent past.

As I left the store with her number in my hand, I felt relieved. I had accomplished something I probably would've never had the nerve to do. I'm not really used to people hating me...particularly for several years. And just as she was the same and different, so am I...and I doubt that we'll ever really be friends agains but it was just so good to see her.

I wish that would could just erase the time and the gap that it has created and go back to laughing, poking people in the nostrils, yelling "Olive Juice" at the top of our lungs, drink so many Long Island Iced Teas that we would start dropping the glasses on the floor, wake up moaning about our "lumpy heads" (we tended to be clumsy drunks)--

we probably can't. I'm trying not to be sad about that and continue moving on.

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Thursday, December 14, 2006
Last night was my turn to host the BCT meeting, BCT stands for "Bitches Coming Together". My friends from work and I created this idea so that we don't get burned out from our jobs. And here's what we do--we take turns hosting BCT and once a month we get invited to a friend's house--go along with some wacky theme, eat a delicious meal, get a little tipsy and laugh hysterically at each other.

Since my BCT turn fell around Christmas we turned it into a Pollyanna event. I got my friend Ml this year and since she's known for her wild "jump on the stage with the band" antics, I purchased her a one man band kit...she will now be running around with castanets--it makes me proud that I'm responsible for this. As my gift, I received a blockbuster card and...wait for it...a David Hasselhoff clock!! Whooo! My friends obviously know who they're dealing with.

On the menu last evening was beef tips and mushroom gravy, mashed potatoes, peas (corn for people who don't like peas...who are these people? They should be eliminated) and then I attempted to make a chocolate turtle skillet cake. There was a problem with that. First, I didn't have a skillet that I thought could withstand the heat of the over so I decided to forgo the skillet. My alternative?? I used a very deep glass bowl. Unfortunately, for me I had a little too much wine (oh my god!! have you ever gotten Smoking Loon wine?? The cork has "whoo whoo whoo whoo whoo 'cough' whoo whoo whoo" on it...I've never laughed so hard at a cork in my life!!) and my wine addled brain couldn't figure out why the cake wasn't cooking. So what did I do?? I served cake sludge of course!! People ladled out "cake" onto their plates in little brown puddles and chowed down as if it was the way it was supposed to be. I love my friends. They don't make me feel as inept as I probably am.

Proof that I can throw a good get together (Which by the way *rubbing knuckles on shirt* I was told that I have thrown the BEST BCT ever!) is that my friend Jackie got tipsy and wrote weird, funny, rambly messages to people which I found this morning as I stumbled around getting ready for work today. I have for you several exhibits of this behavior. *Names will be changed to protect the guilty.

Exhibit A

"K peed on the side of the road. B looks like she is a 40 year old Brazilian woman. When I come from Punjabi, you come pick me up."

Exhibit B

"Melina stop molesting B with the hook--you might pop her fake boobs. I wish you had more mushrooms for me. I will threaten you with a stick of pepperoni--you will love it. I saw you with my big meat loaf. One time I saw you at the supermarket and you had on purple panties. They weren't yours--were they M.E's (the super old lady who works with us)? Imagine if M.E had a peg leg. Cool--I know--I pictured it too.

Exhibit C


You are a really smelly bitch. Sometimes when I wear bras outside my clothes I take pictures for you. Matt is marrying you because you are a slut who gives head in the car and kitchen. Please don't fall down in the strip club because you have big boobs and little feet."

Exhibit D


Open your mouth and let him in- Trust me, he will appreciate it. Remember when your anal beads got stuck in the potty (that never happened to J by the way)? You are my best black friend (She isn't black!). What do you love poles? I love them too. Let's go somewhere and get in a brawl. Don't worry , I got your back- Do you think we could win a fight- no weapons- just hand to hand combat?"

This just proves that it was a hilarious night AND that new mothers who are released back into the wild get a little nutsy when first reintroduced to the 'sauce'! I feel so lucky with my life right now...I have the best friends, the most wonderful husband, and an awesome dog. Never in my life have I been so content, so happy, constantly looking forward to what great thing is going to happen next. I feel all warm and flushed as if I were constantly tipsy and giggling.

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Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Hijinx and paint
John arrived home on Friday to an already tipsy wife. Our work was supposed to have a Holiday Party, it was cancelled for lack of participants and so it was changed to a happy hour. Oddly enough, I never signed up for the Holiday Party but I did attend the happy hour...go figure.

In the effort to save money for the floor (remember: we have disgusting disgusting that if I were to take a picture of it and put it up on the web--you'd puke!) we decided to make an effort to have fun all weekend but to avoid the bars because we can't escape them without dropping a significant amount of money. So, considering that we have a nice bar in the basement it's not like we're making a sacrifice, we're just getting tipsy/drunk/incoherent/hallucinate-y (err...that last part was just me) with each other. Let me explain.

The beer started flowing, the music was playing, my clothes somehow were taken from me and then somehow I was having sex. Then I stopped. I looked up and said, "You know, I don't really comfortable doing this...I'm married!" Then, after a few seconds I recognized that indeed, I was having sex with my husband! Saint John just looked at me and said to me, "Get on your knees." I complied. This drunken fantasy stuff is nothing new...I've seduced Bruce Springsteen in my drunkeness as well as seduced John at my inebriated imaginary prom.

Aside from being a pro at putting up with my drunken coital fantasies, John turned out to be an excellent Craft Show shopper too. He came with me to my old high school to see all the wares and to purchase Christmas gifts. We got a bracelet for his sister, a lovely sterling and turquoise necklace for his mom and a piece of pottery for my mom. I bought John a lovely sepia toned photo of Boathouse Row that looks better than this...but still gives him a little piece of the city he left behind. It's ok that I told you all about it because as soon as I saw it, I pointed it out to John and said, "Go away, I need to buy you that for Christmas!" And so it goes. I've never been able to keep a present secret...but I'm going to try to for the last couple. John says he doesn't care and that he doesn't really like Christmas but...I'm going to knock that grinchiness right out of him. The holiday isn't celebrated religiously by either of us, but it has always been a time for me to pull my family close and tell them how much I cherish them. This year, celebrating with John will be the same way, and he will be my favorite gift. **ok, enough with the sap** Although, we did have a nice little romantic dinner Saturday night and I had Juliet Chicken, which I would've made sweet tender love to had I not been selfish and busy getting mine by shoveling it down my throat.

Sunday was all paint, all the time. John is trying to put his mark on the interior of the house, and as he has far better taste than me...we bought lots of paint to cover the walls, and they needed it. Somehow, even though I've been living here for a few years I only managed to paint a few rooms and those that I did paint I did a pretty horrible job with--I've never had patience for more than one coat of paint--I hear that's a no no. John has a sweet way of making me do work--he plies me with liquor. It's a proven method, one that's never failed us yet. We stocked up on champagne, wine and many, many mugs of beer. Amazingly, even though he filled me with so much bubbly goodness--I managed only to paint a little bit of trim and a couple of coats of white paint on the doors. Speaking of which...can you believe that I lived for over two years with bluish-grey trim and doors?? What kind of sadist paints all the trim/doors bluish-grey?? The person who sold me the house, that's who!

Other than that I've just been busy with work and with getting this grad class finished...only one more week and then it's all posting, all the time! Careful what you wish for ;)

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