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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Monday, July 30, 2007
The Anniversary Vacation
For our first anniversary, John and I went to Chicago for a few days, and now we're back...le sigh. I want to be on vacation all the time. I can't think of a fancy schmancy way of doing it so, here goes:

Day 1- We left the house without a hitch, including instructions for the dog who I kept trying to figure out a way to fit her in my bag. Unfortunately, I could not. We managed to pack tiny little bags chock full of stuff and didn't forget a thing--in fact, I think I packed about 20 outfits for four days. Of course, I gave John the "Lady of America" gym bag to pack his stuff in. I didn't alert him to the pink embroidery until we were boarding the plane. I thought it was nice of me to tell him at all, really.
Arriving early (wow! our lucky day!!), we checked our bags at the front desk (our room wasn't ready) and headed off to find a local bar to get ideas as to what to do over the next couple of days from some locals. I'm so glad that John and I don't plan our itinerary minute for minute... it's much more fun with just general ideas. Our bartender was super helpful and sweet, since he cut us a huge break on our check and lots of ideas scrawled all over our little map. With ideas in mind we left the bar, grabbed a few bottles of champagne and a bottle of Jameson (it was our anniversary, remember?!?) and headed back to our room. What is it about hotels and vacations that equal the most fabulous sex?? I don't know, but I'm half tempted to sell the house and move like a nomad from one hotel to another for life! After toasting many times and drinking numerous glasses of champagne we headed out (and no John, I'm not forgetting our little skit we worked up as we attempted to figure out how you have the "talk" with your kid, I just don't even know how to put it into words--it was just too funny!). Most of this night I can wasn't one of our finer moments as a bickering couple (particularly in public), and on our anniversary day no less! But it was resolved quickly enough and we shared a tasty meal in the city we were to inhabit for a few days. And I don't know if it was the alcohol but I ate a few pieces of John's tuna steak and loved it. This is a big break through...I haven't eaten fish since my dad stopped making me at 18 because in my mind, fish is yucky. See? John's good for me...expanding my horizons and such.

Day 2- I call this the day I walked the urban jungle. We got up nicely late...for me this is 10 am. I think I let him sleep until about 11. This was my concession to John since this was really his vacation from work. I've been on vacation for many weeks and I've had many days to sleep in, this was his turn. We headed out and before long it was lunch time. With our local bartender's suggestion in hand we set out on our quest. It was then that we discovered the joy that is deep dish Chicago pizza. Mighty tasty. With food in our bellies, we began our serious walking tour...oh. my. god. I can't tell you all the places that we went because we walked just about everywhere. I remember going to Millennium Park, I remember seeing the Bean...I loved the Bean. I did not love the squat image that the Bean reflected of me and that John captured with the (disposable) camera (that you'll hear more about later)...but you can't win every battle can you? We walked down to the river and followed its meander through the city, it was one of the beautiful things we witnessed that day. It's a shame that I haven't had a chance to purchase a new digital camera...sigh. I mentioned this to John and he quickly ran to accommodate his princess by getting a disposable camera. Being the brat that I am--I was too sweaty, too tired and had no pockets to put the camera. I thanked him, but left him to do the photography. We didn't capture much. But the camera was much appreciated John, really, it was.

We walked and walked until my knuckles were dragging on the ground and John was begging to get on a boat tour just to sit down. This suggestion fell on deaf ears, I looked at him and said, "Where is that boat going to take me that my feet haven't already??" He agreed with me and so we paused at a picnic table where we both laid down like we had walked 1000 miles. Seriously folks, I no longer believe in the Proclaimers. I don't know what the deal is with the heat/humidity in Chicago but it is certainly a different beast than here in Pennsylvania. Right now it's a sweltering 90-some degrees with 84% humidity. My hair is curling in little snarls and yet it's still more comfortable than it was in Chicago. You Chicagoans are amazing with the way you handle heat. I melted into a puddle while some girl walked by me wearing a 3/4 length sleeved shirt!! But I digress with my story...
We went to the Navy Pier, walked around a bit and then headed home to rest a bit. After laying on our bed for awhile, and showering we went down for a little dinner. When we actually sat down for dinner I ended up with the largest prime rib I've ever seen in my life...seriously, I had a half a cow on my plate! After six bites, I had to declare defeat and take a calffie bag (that's like a doggie bag, only bigger) home with me. John might have wanted to go out after dinner but unfortunately, I sunk into a deep food coma. Apparently it was that night that he got to see all the sexy shows on HBO (the best of Taxi Cab Confessions)...I don't believe him, because every time I turned on the TV it was My Super Ex Girlfriend. (if you're wondering why this is even relevant, it's because we don't have HBO at home so any down time had us either jumping each other or soaking in whatever HBO had to offer us). be continued
Day 3 and 4 tomorrow.

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Monday, July 23, 2007
Dear John letter
Don't worry, it's not that kind of letter.

Dear John,
We will have been married for a year in two days. How can that be?? Some days I feel like I've known you forever! You have become my very best friend and I love every minute that I get to spend with you. I learn more and more about you every day and I love celebrating the small triumphs of this first year--home renovations (you've done some really impressive things!), both of us getting recognized at our respective jobs for doing well and simply meshing our separate lives together. The best part of my day is lying next to you, being spooned and held tightly as we both drift off to sleep. Never in my life have I loved this deeply, this happily and I thank you for that.

My favorite memories of our first year together:
1. Our trip to Vegas was soo much fun. Of course, it's a fond memory because that's where we got married but also because it was our first vacation together. I loved sipping pina coladas in the pool with you, watching you win with a single dollar on the slot machine, and seeing all the sights.

2. Our reception at home. It was everything I ever wanted. I had the man I loved by my side, a lovely dress, the best song list ever created (Oh how much we worked on that thing! It was completely worth it!) and every friend and family member who we bewildered with our shockingly quick engagement/plans to marry that I could've possibly wanted. Again, I would've never change a second of it. I'm glad that we didn't waste time with a long engagement. I fell in love with you quickly and I was amazed (and blessed) that you caught on to the plan and fell in love with me too. I look at my ring and see the inscription and smile...because I love spending every day of my life with you.

3. All of our random nights in our basement, particularly the first couple of months after you moved in. It was so fun, getting tipsy (and/or drunk) and singing all of our favorite songs together at the top of our lungs. In the basement we've talked about everything: music, books we've been reading, our pasts, and our future together. We snuggle up with the dog and love her up and of course, our clothes usually end up together in a heap on the carpet. You know I love that!

4. The night you tied me up. I don't really need to go into graphic detail but it was three hours where you focused almost entirely on me. Three hours! I still get chills when I think about that night.

5. This might sound strange but even our fights have been good. I say this because we've never really managed to stay mad at each other for very long and we've always been pretty respectful and apologetic towards each other. Each of us owning up to what we've done wrong and each of us remaining communicative and responsive as to how to fix whatever it was that started the disagreement in the first place. I think this is one of our greatest strengths and it will serve us well for a long time in the future.

6. Your birthday, which we spent in NYC. A weekend getaway which was too short because it was wonderful. I loved traipsing around the city with you, staring up at the tall buildings, giving each other roses, popping in and out of shops, and braving the icy cold winds and our freezing cold ears. Having the opportunity to go to a quiet restaurant for your birthday where I had you all to myself...unlike the previous night where you had me cracking up when you celebrated with our friends and your mom.

7. My surprise birthday party. Only a man who loved me would call all my friends and get everyone to dress like pirates. Whenever I see your sailor picture, I smile a little more. You are absolutely adoreable.

8. Any time I get to spend with you is my favorite time. You always have me laughing, smiling and feeling lucky that I married such an interesting, smart and caring man. Thank you. And I love you to pieces.

Love Always,

John, what are some of your favorite memories of this year???

***Wednesday we're going away for our anniversary so the blog will be a little quiet for the rest of the week! Talk to you all when we get back!!!***

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Friday, July 20, 2007
Poker? I hardly know her...
Last night we started what we hope will be a Thursday night family institution of Poker Night at my sister in law's house. With the new baby (gorgeous Gia, see posts below), they don't get out of the house all that much and money is tight for all of us what with all the frilly pink stuff we must dress our favorite baby in. Seriously, don't send me to Target because I will leave there with a whole new wardrobe for the kid. The hot pink onesie I purchased didn't lie when it exclaimed in hot pink sequins that she's spoiled...because she is! And I'm doing the spoiling! The solution to these "problems"? We've decided to bring the entertainment to the form of us! There's a $10 buy in and that affords us all an exciting evening of betting, bluffing and for me---losing.

You see., SIL and her boyfriend are cardsharks...we didn't realize that until after they invited us to play with them last Friday night. John and I held our own that night and we took out four of the eight people playing. We were down to the final four with his sister and her boyfriend. They made a quick game out of John and minced me up within the next half hour after he was out. Last night they were all out for my blood. I mean seriously, who switches up the game at the table when there's a rookie sitting there?? They did, that's who...and their trick was to throw in random hands of Omaha and Super Hold 'em. Uh huh, I was barely treading water with simple Hold 'em and they have to throw in the big guns...whatever. They're not to blame, John is. Him, and my awesome inability to notice that I made a straight up in my head...when I set my cards down I was missing the four which I swore I had. Yes, that's right, I can't even count a series. Mine went something like this: "I have a straight!" and I bravely laid my cards down displaying a 2-3-5-6-7-8. I blame that on my hippy school education...this would've never happened if I had had a public education--no sirree bob! What happened next though is simply bone chilling in its treachery.

John decided to go Benedict Arnold on my ass and he took me out of the game as quickly as he possibly could. Does he remember who washes his socks and underwear? Who makes him dinner and gives him blow jobs? I think ladies and gentlemen of the jury, he does not. After publicly abusing me (with his card playing) he thought he could make it better by giving me soft smiles and asking me if I was mad at him. Of course I was mad at him (not really, I'm just a very sore loser)!! I'm almost half surprised he didn't hop out of his seat and give my boob a caress to soothe me. Something tells me by the look on my face that he knew that would've been a bad choice. I guess, the traitor was only fair in his actions because on Friday, I was the one who lured him into going all in when I knew that I had an awesome hand...but I don't believe in fair. I believe in my winning, and my winning only. If I can't succeed in that, then my only consolation is through beating him!

Next Thursday, I'm going to be out for blood or money, mostly money I think. Be warned, sweet husband o' warned.

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Thursday, July 19, 2007
He supports me, like my bra supports my breasts
After a fairly harrowing experience at both Fredericks of Hollywood and Victoria's Secret yesterday I was feeling a little low about my lingerie purchase. There is just no in-between ground with these places. Federicks is just sleazy and cheap looking and Victoria's Secret is more comfort driven than sexy driven lately...don't get me wrong, I saw lots of things that I would like to wear when cuddled up with a bowl of popcorn and a movie; but this mission wasn't about me--it was about John. You see, I was reminded on Friday of the fact that I don't romance the boy enough. And it's true. I'll strip down naked at any given moment but I never do it with any panache or class. As John stated on Friday, "I guess you never had to do it? You just brought the guy home, took him up to your bed and had at it, huh?"

Um, yeah...that's about right.

So anyways, I decided that I was going to start practicing my seduction/romance skills. I know the boy has a weakness for lingerie and stockings so I set out to give him exactly what he wanted. After a brief shuffling through Fredericks, I left only with the stockings. I got to VS and I couldn't find anything that wasn't an A cup or a 32. Frustrated, I found one item I wasn't completely fond of, but it would do. I hastily paid for it, grabbing a couple lipglosses for good luck and to cure my desire to run to Sephora and drop a paycheck or two and I headed home.

It was at home that I tried the damn mesh/lace thingamig on. First of all, it was a small...I am not a small. It fit though, and that made me happy. Looking in the mirror, I was expecting to look more like the ladies in the catalog do. I looked decidedly nothing like that. Then I realized that I didn't have a garter belt anymore, so the stockings that I pulled up began a shameful slide back down my legs as if they were too embarassed to be seen on me. I reached into my arsenal (read: three drawers of bras and panties...I used to work at VS!) and pulled out a frilly little garter skirt thingamabob that I had never worn. It looked cute as I held it in my hand, I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I had never worn it. Two minutes later, I realized. That little garter skirt was the most goddamn-ridiculous thing ever invented. I swear, even the dog had to bite her lip not to openly gaffaw.

Stripping that off, I slipped into my trusty boxer shorts and t-shirt and put the offending lingerie back into it's small pink bag and stowed it next to the couch. When John came home, I slowly explained the trouble that I had had with my seduction mission as I pulled the lame lacy items out of the bag exclaiming, "It's not even what I wanted. It's STUPID!" and that's when I started to cry a little.

John grabbed the stupid cami top thing and said,"No it's cute" and then in the same breath, "Are these holes so your nipples poke out??" And I nodded, pronouncing,"They're stupid too!" with all the conviction of a five year old who doesn't want to eat her broccoli. "You can pull them shut, that's what I did when I tried it on...they're stupid poking out like that." (Notice my immense vocabulary?? I really like the word stupid. A Lot.) And then I cried a few more tears. And that's when John comforted me, by cupping my boob and gently murmuring, "There, there." And that made me laugh, because John was comforting my breast. Later, I used this move on him to ease the pain of a devasting loss at darts to yours truly. It seemed to calm him as well...go figure.

This little tale simply proves that Sarah Silverman is always right. She said, "If you hop in the shower with your boyfriend or husband you are guaranteed to leave it with squeaky clean breasts!"

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Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Nerds making fun of nerds...
Some things to consider about our tarnished character:

John and I have been relishing in the Teen Jeopardy--Summer Games, because we can "totally school a bunch of teenagers" as he so elloquently put it. Yeah, that's right, we are excited about the fact that we have a more than decent grasp on bullshit categories such as "You Tube" and "Pop Music".

To make matters worse:

I relish in making fun of the teen contestants, John merely makes observations. The sweet freshman that was on the show last night made John turn to me and say, "She looks like someone...but who?" After a moment's pause he came back with, "She looks like Corey Feldman!" And it wasn't an insult against the poor kid, she just really looked like a young Corey Feldman. Now like I said, I like to make fun of the kids. For example, yesterday's young winner liked to build homing devices and put them in things that he often loses...for example, his backpack or his coat. I turned to John and said, "I guess he doesn't need to put a homing device on his virginity, does he?" See? That's just mean. True, but mean...and in about five years the smarty pants will probably own my soul with one of his new inventions--so, it's a trade off of sorts.

National Geographic anyone? Anyone?!?:

John and I sat staring at a Praying Mantis that was sitting on our table on the deck. John said something to the effect that we were watching the world's most boring episode of National Geographic. I pointed out that I still had my shirt on and thus wasn't quite that authentic. With neighbors milling about on either side of us, John did not urge me to peel off my top. His loss. I realized (after 10 minutes of intense staring) that the neighbors couldn't see the mantis and so to them, it appeared that we were both leaning forward and staring crazily at one distinct spot on our table. After seeing the mantis poke at a beetle, I decided to go inside so that the neighbors didn't have anything more to talk if that were ever going to happen. We've already been called oddballs under their breath as we left the deck one night, lord knows what they call us behind closed doors.

And finally, if you had any respect for me, it's now gone:

My final submission of nerd-dom. I believe I've finally turned John to the "dark side" (we'll use terminology that he can understand). For a man who just loves himself some Star Wars, he was awfully reluctant to learn anything about Harry Potter. OK, whatever. I like Harry Potter...not enough to camp out to get the latest book or run to the midnight showing, but I think I have a healthy love for the kid. Amazingly, John has been able to avoid Herr Potter for all these years--until, I brought the first DVD home for him to watch. For the first 20 minutes, I had to fight him about turning it off/finding anything else to do except watching it(including rearranging couch pillows, ball scratching and belly button exploration). But finally, something clicked in his nerd DNA and he declared last night, "I think I love him!" And guess who rented the second DVD for him? That's right, I'm going to make him beg for a little more's like pulling his x-wing star fighter in with my tractor beam (that's my little Star Wars reference to make him feel more comfortable with his latest trek down the Geek Path).

***PS. John, don't you think I look a little like Ashley Madison, over there in the ads??? You know, if I would put makeup on in the summer!?!****

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Monday, July 16, 2007
People who live in cement houses...
...shouldn't have sex doggy style. I'm just saying.

I am now bruised and a little broken after learning this important lesson. After playing poker with John's sister and boyfriend we headed over to T's house to celebrate our friend Tony's birthday with everyone. They had been at the bar all night, but with a few shots of bourbon (the only available liquor in their new house...Odd? yes.) we managed to mingle with them nicely. So nicely in fact, that we slipped away from the group and headed to the front room of the house which no one can really figure out is actually for. It's like a very small walled-in cement porch.

It must've been the ambiance of this cement "mud room" that made us feel so frisky. All that cement, all those cobwebs...oooh yeaaaah. And so, quickly we stripped out of certain items and headed towards the wall with the window. It made sense because the room was too small for any other purpose than to have sex in. I blame the numbing agents of alcohol, John's enthusiasm for the sport and my being a little too close to the wall for the abrasions and bruises that adorn my forehead, nose and elbow today.

There's so much more, but I don't even know how to put it into words...or if I even want to.

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Friday, July 13, 2007
Gianna vs. Frankie

My niece is fucking beautiful...isn't she?? And she does really cool tricks like sticking her tongue out--all the time. Actually, I think that's her only trick.

Well, at least she's cute, because Frankie (my dog) can out-trick baby G still, at this stage.

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Thursday, July 12, 2007
That went over like a led zeppelin
"We should ride our bikes more often..."
"We really should!"
"We could ride them to thitwbar up the street for Wing Night...but wait, where would we lock our bikes up there? Do they have a bike rack?"
Eyes leveled at him I replied, "John, I highly doubt it. Maybe we could attach a long chain to one of the cement blocks in the parking lot?"
John thoughtfully scratches his chin, "No, that wouldn't work."
I think for a few seconds and say, "Oh! I've got it, we could chain them up over at the Catholic school!" (conveniently located across the street from the bar).

Then I sat for a few more moments and said laughing, "Or you know...we could just walk up there!" because honestly, we live within two blocks of the place. I continued, "It's good to know that we just spent about 10 minutes trying to figure out the most complicated ways to get to the bar, with complicated transportation and complicated ways to maintain anti-theft."
It was then that my smart ass husband responded with,
"I'm sorry, what were you saying? I was just wondering if they have dirgible moorings up there...".

Maybe you had to be there, but it was so corny it was hilarious.

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Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Existential Questions...
Last night while we were lying in bed John said quietly, "All I know about you is from your stories of the past, like from when you were little." And it's kind of true, for being married longer than we actually dated he doesn't know me all that well. And yet he does, he can anticipate my moods, and how I'm going to react to something. He knows my favorite foods and all the small things that he'd need to know if we were going to try to fake getting a green card to keep me in the country. But it hurt a little to hear, "I don't really know you."

I was taken aback and tried to quickly summarize something about me, about the present but I only stuttered out a short list of things that trailed off pretty miserably. This morning I was left with persistant questions, "Who am I?" "What defines me today?" "What can I share with my husband who feels that he knows me, but in the same respect, doesn't?"
The Known
Several years ago, I was defined by my father's death. It changed me, instantly--for both better and worse. I became a nicer person but I became more reckless and careless with myself. Then, I decided to become a teacher, and this decision defined me in an even greater way. I immerse myself in my job, in my students, in loving my work. I've allowed myself to be defined by my friends and sometimes the people I shared my bed with--most of them (all of the bedmates), have gone by the wayside--I have few close friends left. I've taken that pretty hard, I miss my friends--but we all change--and I fear they grew up before I was ready to, and I was left behind.
The Partially Unknown
I have to fight against myself because as soon as I achieve something, I subconciously attempt to sabotage myself. I'm not sure why, but I've been doing it for years. For the first time in almost four years I can breathe a small sigh of relief, after finally digging myself out of my last taste of personal sabotage... and it feels nice. I've been carrying a weight of stress, fear, guilt and embarassment that I've tried to off-set with humor. I'm sure some believe that I come off sounding like I've taken all of this lightly, but I haven't. Now the hardest part. While I breathe easily, I have to police myself and make sure I don't do myself in again. I get pre-occupied with this idea because the only thing that I'm worried about destroying is my relationship with John. I don't think I could handle that. And it's that thought that has kept me on pins and needles for over half this year. As safe and comfortable as I feel with John--I'm worried about what I'm going to do wrong. It's paralyzing at times.
The Completely Unknown
So who am I now? Why have I been living in the past and why do I constantly only share that part of me? I think the answer to these questions is that I've been waiting to start over. I finally have that chance. I no longer have to be that girl who did half the stupid things I've done. I'm no longer the girl who wants to go to the bars all the time. I'm no longer the girl who gets bored when there isn't constant noise and I'm not the center of attention (although everyone knows that I do enjoy that...sometimes). It's actually freeing to write all that down.

So really John, I'm not sure who I am right now because I feel like a blank slate again. I'd really appreciate it, if you helped me find out who I'd want to be. I'd like you to meet the girl who likes campfires, adventure and all other things that extend beyond our living room, and our tiny town.

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Monday, July 09, 2007
A word to the wise
When you wake up hangover free do not take it as an open invitation to partake in spirits while attempting to clean...because then you will wake up feeling decidely like crap--and then you will throw up numerous times. The problem with this being that you haven't eaten anything and so it's fruitless and painful. I hope John's feeling a little better than I am--because unlike me, he had to work today. Ah, the joys of having the summer off are "intoxicating". We are dumb...

I'm going on the least until Friday. Feeling like this, is for the dogs. Actually, I wouldn't even wish this upon the meanest junkyard dog. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to lie down, nap and feel better so I can actually clean the I attempted to do before Miller Lite crossed my path.

Better posts to follow...when my body ceases to fight my every move.

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Friday, July 06, 2007
A picture's worth 0 words
So you send a tasteful (ha ha, there's no such thing) photo of yourself know, to help a Friday to go faster for your man...

...and you hear nothing back!
What happened?

Was it:

a) You actually sent the picture to your Aunt Joanie.
b) Your husband left his phone in the car and/or the battery is dead because he never charges it.
c) Your boobs just aren't as good as you thought they were.
d) Your husband replied to another girl, thinking the boobs belonged to her.
e) He said, "These things? I see them every night...why is she shoving them down my (proverbial) throat?"
f) He's working hard today and only one of us can lay out and think of naked pictures to send her spouse.

I guess I'll find out later...

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John's interesting movie picks...
Last night I sat with a hand clasped over my one eye as I watched John's movie pick of the evening. He read the synopsis as he took the DVD out of the envelope, "

A lonely and dejected woman (Amira Casar) learns that only when all inhibitions are cast aside will she be able to truly understand the truth about how men see women in this erotically charged exploration of sexuality from controversial director Catherine Breillat. Teetering on the edge of overwhelming ennui, the woman pays a man (Rocco Siffredi) to join her for a daring, four-day exploration of sexuality in which both reject all convention and smash all boundaries while locked away from society in an isolated estate. Only when the man and woman confront the most unspeakable aspects of their sexuality will they have a pure understanding of how the sexes view one another" ( Jason Buchanan, All Movie Guide).

I wasn't afraid to watch the screen, as my hand over my eye suggested--I have pink eye and my eye was so light sensitive I felt like a mole. I know it's hot. You don't even need to tell me, because I KNOW. I had to smack John away because he was so turned on by my eye (not really, in fact, I think he avoided looking at my face yesterday altogether). John reading the plot outline made me forget about my horrid eye and made me laugh. I mocked him, as he mocked me when I picked up Notes on a Scandal... and I said, "Gee, that sounds awfully titilating John...kind of like porn!" He turned toward me solemnly and pointed the DVD at me and said, "It's a french film, so it's classy." Boy was it ever not classy...I don't want to ruin too much for you if you want to see it--it is actually a worthy film to see if you can handle it. But after this movie you'll equate steeping your tea with using a tampax. Sound cryptic? Perhaps it is. The director obviously had menstruation on the mind. Oh and it's safe to say that you'll probably be put on a government list after viewing it...for reasons I really don't want to get into...probably the only unnecessary part of the 77 minute film.

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Sunday, July 01, 2007
The Legend of Punk Duck
John shook me vigorously Sunday morning and said, "Hey, sorry...but I want to ask you a question. First you have to hear my dream". Still mostly groggy, I propped myself up on my elbows and listened to the following:

"We were in some big apartment building somehwere. We were all just hanging out. It was me, you, Tara, Tony, Shawn and Jen...perhaps a few others. You kept getting calls on your cell phone. And from what I could gather you were arranging to meet up with some guy. I confronted you and asked, "Are you going to see some guy tonight?!?"
Everyone steps in and says, "Sheesh John, you shouldn't talk to her about that." And then, I finally deduced that you were supposed to go on this date where you were going to sleep with some other guy but you acted like it wasn't a big deal. In fact, Jen said that it was a good thing that you were going to sleep with Punk Duck (yeah, that was his name...I don't exactly understand that) and that you should go out once every 12-16 months and sleep with someone to keep our "marriage fresh". Shaun steps in and says, "You didn't know? They were going to tell you!" And I said, "When? When were they going to tell me?!?" Shaun laughs and says, "In about ten days from now!"
At this point, you and I were in different apartments but we had the windows open and we were yelling back and forth. I shouted, "You want to throw this away? This is what you need?" And you simply yelled back, "Yeah, pretty much." Everyone I talk to just tells me that this is what you need and that it's healthy.

After telling me his dream, he said quietly, "So you don't really feel that way, do you? You're not going to go out and sleep with some Punk Duck guy, are you?" And I laughed, partly because John was so serious about his dream (and no, I'm not going to cheat on him to "rejuvenate" my marriage) but mostly because I kept thinking about Howard the Duck.

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maturity comes at 30
Yesterday I decided that I was way too mature (read: old) to attend anything called AstroMonkey ( a punk rock concert that our friend's band was participating).

So instead, I decided to do a Power Hour with my husband. To which we drank to:
1. Mexican beer (which we learned) is NOT the cheapest of all beers.
2. Flight Wheel
3. World Peace. Amen
4. John's attempt at obscure references ( ha ha...luckily I knw that Sonny Chiba played Gogol 13)
5. "yeah he's a professor...of being a dog!!" ( I watched Cabin Fever for the first time on Friday night...sue me)

PS. Never fear, still not working on Pregnancy Plan Nine from Outerspace.

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