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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Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Slightly Better than Casual Jean's Friday?
As I rushed around this morning trying to find something to wear, I grabbed my favorite black pants and threw on an emerald green crew necked "favorite tee" from the Gap. I can dress pretty casually for work as long as my pants aren't jeans, it's prettynice. I looked in the mirror as I pulled up my hair and asked John as he walked past me, "How do I look?"

He spun me around to give me a complete assessment and asked, "What? Is it Boob Day today?"

I can't win, even when they're completely covered.

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1:41 am, that's what the clock said to me when I looked at it blearily as the dog was going wild. "What's going on?" I thought to myself. The dog rarely barks and when she does, it's for attention. This time the dog was beside herself, running up and down the stairs--growling and snarling at the door. That was enough for me to be concerned.

I had just relocated myself to the couch downstairs about a half hour beforehand because I couldn't stop coughing. I didn't want to keep John up so I just decided to curl up and be miserable downstairs. I sat up in the darkness and said, "What's up? What d'ya hear?" and then I heard it too...the front door knob was turning! I thought for a moment, "Did we remember to lock the door before we went to bed?"( sadly, I'm a little lax here in the Cornfield, but I guess I probably shouldn't be). And then again, I thought a little harder, "HOLY SHIT! Did we or did we not lock the door?!?" With that petrifying thought running wildly in my head. I quickly screamed up the stairs, "John! There's someone here! And they're trying to get inside!"
He yelled back to me, "I heard! Don't worry, it's locked and I'm taking care of it!"
From downstairs I heard him throw up the window in our bedroom and bellow out into the darkness, "Hey! What's going on down there? What do you want?"
And then I heard, "Hey, it's ER...can I stay here tonight?" followed by some girlish giggles in the background. It appeared that ER was not alone.

Finally, it all came together for me, and my heart slowed a little. John's brother has just moved back into the state after his three year relationship ended, and he's staying with John's dad who expressed that there should be no sleepover guests of any kind...a rule that ER already broke last week, and because of this caught a little hell. This morning it was nice to see that he tried to give us a head's up. ER sent both of us a text message at 12:30 am asking if it would be ok if he brought a girl over to our house. Unfortunately for him, we'd already been sleeping for about two hours and never got the message.

ER is a good looking kid so to be safe, I think we should probably just give him a key...or we'll be waking up the neighborhood on a daily basis! Who knew our cuddle puppy was actually a half decent guard dog??

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Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Chelle's Wedding...
Well, we all knew that it was going to come sooner or later...the single girls who used to go out on the town, get silly and drunk, meet boys, bring boys home to play, and then have laughs over brunch about it (damn, we sound like the stupid SITC ladies...we're nothing like them!! We dress well, we don't have any stupid fake accents and we don't sit around and make puns all day, I swear)...well, those girls are no more...and to be perfectly honest, I enjoy being retired more than you'd ever guess.

Cr was the first to drop. After a tumultuous relationship with her boyfriend, playing the on again/off again game they decided to stop playing games. They will be married two years, this coming September and all seems to be coming up roses for them.

Then there was me. Who would've ever thought that would happen? Well, I did as soon as I met John...but I'll save that mushy stuff for my anniversary blog. Needless to say, I'm as happy as a clam--that is, if clams get happy.

Now there's Chelle! She hemmed and hawed over this one. It's an age old story, where Chelle is Girl and her new husband is Boy. Girl meets Boy, Boy sleeps with Girl and doesn't call her for some odd reason. Girl decides, "fuck him, I'll find someone else!" and to be honest, she found a couple "elses" (not that there's anything wrong with that). Boy realizes, that he really does like Girl and pursues her like a hunter stalking his prey. Girl gets annoyed first, Girl tells Boy off and then she finally listens to what he has to say. Girl gets flattered; Girl realizes that she had just been putting up her defenses so that Boy wouldn't hurt her again. Boy and Girl date happily until one night Boy pulls out a sparkly ring and tells Girl that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. The End!

So apparently, that's how it goes here in the Cornfield...we meet the right one and we all drop like flies. Now...I'm taking applications for acceptable men for my one friend left...T. I will start the bidding at: she likes to drink, dance, tell funny stories, take stupid pictures of me (ones where I'm trying to eat her head when I'm drunk), sing loudly, laugh more than anything. Ohh and she enjoys having the best friend a person could ever have (me). Any takers?

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Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Cheaters...that's my kind o' tv! Move over Jerry Springer!
My guilty pleasure in life right now is Cheaters.

Have you ever seen it?? I hope that you have...but if you haven't, let me clue you in on a typical episode. First of all, Cheaters used to air on religious televangelist stations late night...weird right? Not so see, Cheaters isn't actually* the smut filled trashy piece of reality television show that it appears. You see, it actually starts by having a statement (which is annoyingly read by some voice over guy in case I cannot read the screen) that the show's goal is to renew faith and fidelity (or something along those lines) right in the opening credits.

Minute 2:00. Joey Greco introduces us to a very sad (usually tearful) man who believes his wife/girlfriend or even a two time hook-up (I saw it once with my own eyes!) is cheating on him.

An aside... Cheaters is so bad ass that the host, Joey Greco ,was once stabbed on the show!! Don't believe me? Check it out.

Minute 3-5:00. The "surveillance team" watches the girl cheat on her boyfriend. They must really need A LOT of footage because they typically watch the girl give the guy a blow job, bang him in the park, have sex in a Wendy's parking lot while on break from her job at Footlocker (where do they find these girls?? I thought most cheating was a clandestine affair?? Hmm...guess I was wrong) before they say, "Ok, this girl is cheating." Oh and you can't really see anything because it seems like they have constantly use night vision goggles and then blur everything out. It's kind of like watching porn through the fuzz at midnight when your parent's Playboy channel kinda unscrambled. What? I'm the only one?!?

Minute 5-10. The most commercials you've ever seen in your life.

Minute 11-15. "The Briefing". This is where Joey Greco tells the guy, "I'm sorry to show you this, but your girlfriend is cheating on you". Then he pulls up a handi-cam and begins to show the guy (who is now crying silently) what his girlfriend has been up to. Joey Greco can't just let the guy take in these horrible sights (like the panties getting thrown out of the window or the woman straddling some guy on her husband's bed), Joey Greco has to give a detailed account of what's going on. For example, the other day he said, "You see that woman riding that man, going up and down? Well she has a tattoo on her left buttock. Doesn't your wife have a tattoo there too?" Then he nods solemnly and states, "That [insert sad man's name here] is your wife. So yeah, Greco drives it home. Without actually saying it (because of it's early roots), Greco stresses, "Your wife's a WHORE!" (remember, this show renews faith) Joey Greco's commentary typically drives the man to loud, and very ugly sobbing (I'm not making fun...I have loud ugly sobs too).

Minute 16. The man realizes that he's on TV and he's sobbing. He decides to prove himself as a man. He states firmly, "I want to talk to her." (What he really means is, "I want to KILL the guy that's banging my wife in the water fountain [true story])

Minute 16.5. Greco says some bullshit about not having a physical conversation. He turns to the camera and we all get it...he's speaking the Cheaters law team.

Minute 17-20. Crying. Beating. Chasing. Screaming...sometimes the jilted man tilts over a Port-o-Potty on the wife's boyfriend!!! This is usually the part where the woman says something ridiculous like, "I knew you were spying on me, that's why I did this." (I tried that in kindergarten when my dad caught me picking my nose. It didn't work then either) or she says, "That's it! I'm breaking up with you!" (I admire her preemptive strike there...very smooth).

Minute 20-25. More fucking commercials (and/or an update on past Cheaters guests. Surprisingly, a lot of guests stay together and say that they have "learned" something. Methinks they probably learned not to cheat out in the open air but that's about it. What can I say? I'm a jaded bitch.

Minute 26. "The Exciting/Riveting/Anti-climatic Conclusion". This is where the jilted husband explains what he's going to do with his life now for a brief second then there's a scary voice doing a voice over with some "sympathetic" music going on in the background. Fun fact: Most of husbands that get cheated on are already dating someone new by the time the show airs.

Minute 27-30. Lots of commercials.

So if you haven't seen it, get to it!
* I don't really believe this, at all.

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Quick Recap
Friday- Igot flagged from bar...2 mins after entering, and was sent home! Must've been the powerhour that John and I did before we went. John perfected his self portrait that night by taking a purple sharpie to our mirror and closing one of his eyes. Picture this (because I think I broke my camera), he looks like a sailor (he was wearing a sailor hat like on the Cracker Jack box), pirate (he drew himself an eye patch) cutie.

Saturday-Went out with John and his brother for a liquid lunch. Oooh boy! We came home and John decided he wanted to take a shower. Well...Drunk Girl (that's me) that I am, I decided to sneak upstairs and scare him. Little did I know he was soaping up his feet when I reached into the shower curtain and yelled "BOO!". He came crashing out of the shower and landed directly on top of me, pinning my arms to my sides. Because of this, I will be wearing a cardigan over my dress this weekend for Chelle's wedding...I have the most enormous bruises you can imagine on my fat arms. Uggh! They hurt! Sorry Pumpkin, didn't mean to almost kill you!

Sunday- My friend Chrissy, a bartender down at the FQB, decided to have a closed party complete with strippers. Maybe it was the excitement of strippers coming to the party (girls, not guys...because male strippers always look like Michael Bolton in a flag Speedo), maybe it was the fact that John's bro was joining us and he just moved back to Pennsylvania due to a failed relationship, or maybe because we kind of took it easy on St. Patrick's Day, we went ALL OUT! I couldn't even tell you how many Jagger Bombs, Tick Tacs, Car Bombs, shots of Jameson, or beers we had. I'm sure it was prolific. So prolific in fact that I couldn't pay our tab and had to rely on T to pay for it...don't worry, I'll pay her back this week!

And the rest of the missing posts?? Monday, Tuesday and still today I'm running around trying to catch up with all the things I neglected while I was drinking our paychecks away.

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Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Husbands say the darndest things...
After my party I decided that I needed to sleep...just...a...little. And so, I decided to sleep until about 3 pm. I valiantly stayed awake with my tedious hangover for several hours until I felt I could take it no more. That time came around 8:45 pm. Yep, I stayed awake for only a handful of hours. But then a curious thing happened.

I awoke at 1am with a desire for some dirty, sweaty, hungover sex. I rolled over to see what John was doing. I was surprised to find him sleeping. How could he do that to me?!? Sleep at 1am?!? Nay, I say! So I did my best to wake him up. First I started rubbing on him, then I started whispering things in his ear, I even grabbed his shoulders and gave him a quick shaking. When he became semi-conscious, I did my best to convey my needs to him. I think it went a little like this:

Me: John! Wake up and give me some loving!! I want sex!

John: Huuuh? Wha? (Snoooooooorrrrrrrrreeeeeee)

Being the resourceful girl that I am, I reached over and grabbed my old pal Mr. Pink, the very happy (and friendly) vibrator who hasn't seen much solo action since I've been married. In a few minutes we were reacquainted and I was satified and ready to go back to sleep. I rolled over toward John and said to him, "Spoon me!" in a very whiny voice and he replied sleepily with a very simple phrase that will forever make me grin:

"Why don't you get your vibrator to spoon you?"

What can I say?? The thing's pretty loud.

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Take this post and throw it out the window
I can't even do justice to my birthday party in a post...I just can't. I will say that John has an awesome sense of detail...there were pirate flags EVERYWHERE, the cups had the Jolly Roger on them, there were skull napkins, pirate balloons and everything! I felt very loved and very 30...everyone had to make sure to put that on my cards! (Grrr, jerks! ha ha). My mom provided us with tasty eats and everyone else provided me with enough liquor and beer to ensure the fact that I didn't get out of bed until 3pm the next day. And the gifts?? The gifts were as out there as I am... I got a gong for my birthday. A gong?!? John, however, pampered me and took me to the mall where I purchased all the makeup I could possibly want and I had it applied while he watched on so that I looked phenomenal before my party. He's fantastic.

Moving on...

Last night was my BCT meeting (bitches coming together) with all my friends from work. I highly suggest you start a chapter yourselves, I will allow this, since I am a founding member of something that could sweep the nation (or it could just remain the 10 of us, which is just as fine too). The theme last night was a was Mardi Gras (since two of the girls actually went this year). We chowed on jumbalia, red beans and rice, king cake and pralines. Mmmmm. Our typical conversations revolve around work gossip and speculation, discussing what sluts/whore/innocents we are or were, husbands/boyfriends/hot boys, busting on each other, and lots and lots of laughing. Gossip was a little light last night because most of our conversations revolved around birthing babies. This was due in part to the fact that two of our own recently did just that. The things I learned last night should be illegal and should not be shared with future potential mothers. I swear I had nightmares. Like an ostrich, from now on, I am declaring that ignorance is bliss.

Moving on yet again...

My dog at my dinner tonight. Never in my life have I been so angry with her and never in my life has she ever done this. Grrrrr. So. Hungry.

Sorry for the shitty post, I will try and think of something creative for tomorrow--- I just felt the need to babble tonight.

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Monday, March 12, 2007
Brain Dead
Can't post about my party yet...I'm so tired and brain dead from the fun. I will tell you a few things until tomorrow:

1. I have an awesome husband who throws fantastic parties.
2. I think I fell in love with rum punch.
3. You should never invite your mother to parties, she will invariably say, "Maybe you should slow down and play hostess?"...silly mom, it was my birthday, everyone knew their way around the house.
4. There are blackmail pictures everywhere.
5. I have awesome friends...
6. Particularly one friend who told me, "Well, now you're thirty, it's time to get knocked up!"
7. I should've taken off today, I'm SO TIRED...still.

More tomorrow, I hope...

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Saturday, March 10, 2007
Birthday, Bitches!
Today's the day! At 5:39 this evening, I will turn 30. Now, much to prepare for before many pirate banners to hang, booze to buy and drink.

I will be back!

PS. Sign of maturity?? I didn't go to the bars last night because I didn't want to be hung over for my party, knowing that I would've received 100's of unsolicited bdays shots...instead I went out to dinner with Johnny and somehow got drunk on two beers--whaaa?!?

PPS. Sign I'm not too mature? I just finished my first birthday's 9:19 am...according to John, this beer is to take the sting off the fact that I have to decorate for my "surprise" party.

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Thursday, March 08, 2007
But what do YOU want?
I have a problem (ok, I have many problems, but who's counting?). My birthday is no less than three days away. Yes, the big 3-0 in three days. However, that's not the problem. The problem lies in the fact that when people ask me what I want for my birthday, I just don't know what to ask for! And honestly? I don't think it's fair. I don't ask people what they want...I snoop around, watch them closely, I stalk them like a serial killer to find out exactly what they need to make them happy.

My mom is at her wits end because she's been asking me since January what I want for my birthday and even though she knows me better than anyone else in the world, she is a horrible gift giver, so I appreciate her repetitive questioning. On numerous occasions she has said, "My baby's turning 30, we need to get you something special!" I asked for a gym membership because my ass is spreading like the ocean floor but I got a lukewarm response to that, according to my mom I won't be able to look at that and say, "My mom gave this to me on my 30th birthday". I figured I could turn around and see less of my ass and think, "Thanks Mom, you saved me from larger jeans!" Oooook...I'm getting a pirate party so now I'm at a loss as to what else I could want, but I feel like I should capitalize on this...never say I'm not greedy!!

I turn it upon you, dear friends and strangers on the Internets, what should I ask for? I'm going to scour the internet and make a post that goes like this: I want this (picture) and this (picture) and I really, really want this! (picture)...if I have time.

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Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Wait for it...
(if you don't want to watch it all, go to 1:17) What would happen if you talked like this all the time?? Like, what if you screamed/growled in a feral manner, "This is a pork chop!" when someone asked you what was for dinner? Try it tonight, it "fits" in any situation you can imagine (examples, "This is bedtime!" or "This is me naked!" I promise you, you will get a laugh out of someone...I know I did.

PS. You have to watch the 300 trailer to know what I'm talking about.

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Whoo! My birthday is Saturday! and you know something? I'm not going to let the fact that I'm turning 30 ruin the fact that I love my birthday. And you know something else? It appears that I am having an awesome pirate surprise party!

Ask me how I know this...

1) I found out a little from my mom who a little slip, but no where or when.

2) I found out a little more from John due to my prying, but he only added to what my mom said and nothing more...

3) I went out to lunch with John's family for John and his sister's "birthday lunch" and all was revealed! His sister didn't know it was a secret!!!

I felt bad for her because she was mortified, and quite honestly, I've always been afraid that I'd be the one to do that to someone! All is well now though, at least I can be coaxed into wearing pants into the basement on Saturday!

The best part? There is a parrot pinata and (I think) eye patches for the guests. I can't wait!

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Thursday, March 01, 2007
Six is like sex except it has an I in it...
This here is a little meme where I'm supposed to reveal six EXCITING things about myself. I don't know if these qualify as exciting, but they will certainly make you question whether or not you want to continue reading this blog. I decided to do most of my "reveals" about something from my childhood, so take what you will from it:

1. When I was in fourth grade I was in a musical where I played one of Santa's elves...I wasn't just any old elf either, I was his right hand elf named Rocky. There was a slight twist. For some reason this musical was about Santa deciding to become more "rockin'" and "rockin'" in this case was to become a biker and his elves were going to be 50's style greasers ala The Outsiders (and I'm sorry, but I hate the Outsiders...I particularly HATE Ponyboy...because his fucking name is Ponyboy). Looking at the pictures now, I look exactly like Squiggy from Laverne and Shirley except that I have legs that resemble five foot tall toothpicks. Where did those legs go? How can I go about getting them back? If anyone has the answer to this, please drop me a comment.

2. Every night when I was in second grade I used reach under my pillow and pull out my Michael Jackson Thriller album cover and then pull out my cover of Purple Rain and I would debate over which cover to make out with...yes, that's correct. I debated over which cover to slobber on. If you've been reading this blog for a while you won't be shocked by this behavior because I also used to lick the television screen whenever The Great American Hero or Luke Duke came on.

3. My dog has her own myspace, she's very popular on the Internets. Yes, I'm a nerd--I will freely admit that to you all, since I don't know you.

4. There was this time when my dad broke his wooden leg at a very fancy restaurant. It looked as if he had been stabbed in the leg by a gigantic piece of wood to the average very fancy restaurant goer. My dad yelled to me, "Quick Melina!" as he threw me the keys, "Run back to the car and get me a spare leg!" (and you thought YOU had an embarassing set of parents?!?) I ran to his car and debated for a few moments over the idea of which leg to bring him (because you see...he brought two with him). I grabbed a leg, threw it over my shoulder and began running back towards the super-fancy-restaurant-that-my-small-white-trash-family-shouldn't-have-been-in. As I ran, the leg began kicking me in the ass. I finally made it into the restaurant, and into the men's room where my dad was patiently waiting/sitting on a toilet because he couldn't balance on one leg forever. A man at the urinal yelled, "Hey you can't be in here...wait, what do you have?" giving me a puzzled WTF look, he then scurried away and I was able to hand my father his spare leg. When we left the bathroom, my dad announced to every single diner in the restaurant, "I think we will be going to Wendy's". This is one of my favorite stories. It's better when I tell it in person because, like Carrot Top (the Anti-Christ) I can tell it with props!

5. I was the twice recipient of the GIANT COOKIE GIVEAWAY at my elementary school! They put little stickers on the bottom of the trays and if you had the sticker then you won this enormous cookie that was bigger than your head. I declare that I am the biggest nerd in the world. Instead of sharing my cookie with my friends at school, or on the bus...I took my cookie home to show my dad. Yes that's right, I took. my. cookie. home. to. show. my. parents! Then, I'd call all my friends to come over and we'd tear into the cookie. But, I had to show my parents what kind of winner they had! They had to see my prize intact! (I shake my head at how weird I was/am)

6. When I was very small I took ballet, and because of this I was given a tutu. I didn't like ballet very much but I loved my tutu as is evident in the photo. I wore that thing everywhere. I went to the grocery store with my mom in it. I had to be coaxed to take it off when I went to swimming classes. I wore it to bed. I wore it to pre-school every day. I. would/could not take it off. After looking at the pictures, I think I want a new one. But then again, I could just wear the underskirt to my wedding dress I did a few weeks ago, just because old habits die hard. Who can resist puffy tulle?? Tell me?

Who will I pick to do this? No one. Feel free to do it if you don't have much to write about. This weekend should be simply oozing with bloggable moments! Tomorrow- lunch at thitwbar with John's family for his birthday. Tomorrow night, Chelle's bachelorette party! Sunday, dinner with John's dad for his bday. But the best part?? Next week is my birthday!! Whooo!

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Loose Lips Sink Ships

While giving blood yesterday my pal Ml must've been feeling a little woozy. She revealed secrets...secrets about me. Secrets that are most delicate in nature; about what I like to do in my free time--for example, maybe...just maybe...I get drunk and I put my dad's prosthetic hook on my hand. C'mon! Tell me! Tell me that you wouldn't do it if you had had a hook sitting on a shelf looking all lonely-like.

The person that Ml told looked shocked. Ml tried to explain, "Well, it's just like a hat. Let's say your dad died and he left you a hat, you'd wear it right?"

The girl looked directly at Ml and said, "But it's not a hat, it's a hook!" Which made me think of the scene in I Heart Huckabees where Jason Schwartzman's character tries to give the valet his bike and tells him to pretend it's a car. The valet says, "But it's not a car, it's my job!" That made me giggle, and then it made me think of this...

The girl came in today and confronted me, "Do you wear your dad's hook when you're drunk?"
My reply was, "Well yes, sometimes then. But I wear it whenever I feel like really, why do you ask?"
She gave me the look reserved for small children and animals that are behaving badly and she told me that I'm cracked in the head. I didn't deny it. C'mon, it's not like I wear the hook out of the house. Yet.

PS. That's the real hook above.
PPS. It is covered in camouflage duct tape.
PPS. I have no idea why.

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