Did you know that if you blow zerberts on John's belly, inner thigh or the back of his knee that he will squeal like a little girl and shriek, "Gaaaaahhhh!"

Neither did I, until last night.

For some reason my ability to link has disappeared...but I'm going to do all this stuff to John next!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrCTSB3edXs

[Cue maniacal laughter]

I went out to lunch today with my dear friend Cr who is pregnant and due in March (right around both of our birthdays!!). While we were happily munching on our food she filled me in on all the people who are pregnant...all I can say is that there is going to be a serious population explosion in Pennsylvania...I now have seven friends who are all pregnant and due in either March or April. Seven?!? That just seems a little unreal...

Cr and I have very different schedules and so we don't get to see each other as often as we used to. These are a few of the things that she said to me that had me giggling:

Cr:"I always wanted big boobs, but now I don't know why!?! Seriously, do your boobs get stuck under your armpit when you try to make a turn in the car?"
Me: "Umm, not so much."
Cr: "Maybe it's just 'cuz I'm not used to having boobs..."
Me: "Maybe?"

Cr:"I was thinking about if it's a boy, I'd name him Tristan...but then I realized that I can't name a baby after Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall. Seriously...I lusted after that man. I can't name my kid that!"
Me: " Yeah that doesn't sound like a good idea, unless you want to be on Maury in about 18 years."

"I wanted to name my baby Emily Rose if it's a girl."
Me: "What about that Emily Rose movie?"
Cr: " What movie's that?"
Me: "Oh...I don't know, the one where Emily Rose is possessed by the Devil."
Cr: "Huh?"
Me: "I never saw it but there's a movie called the Exorcism of Emily Rose."
Cr: "Geez..."
[pause]
Cr: " I don't care, I love the name Emily."

Cr: "They didn't bring two spoons for this brownie thing..." [waving her arm over her beloved brownie dessert]
Me: "That's ok, I didn't order it...you did. I don't really want any of it."
Cr: "Good, I didn't want to fight you for this brownie."
[after that, I kept my fingers away from the table so that they could not be gnawed upon]

First week back at school is crazy!

First grad class in a while, also crazy...starts tonight...

Ugghh. I should/hopefully (will ) be a blogging fool by Friday...

It's either that, or I go insane...

All work and no play, makes Melina a dull girl.
All work and no play, makes Melina a dull girl.
All work and no play, makes Melina a dull girl.

You get the point.

So...

John was interviewed by the local news station about the weather...

Here are my keen observations courtesy of my TIVO:

1. My husband is HANDSOME!
2. My husband is very flustered standing next to Walter Perez.
3. My husband actually backs away from Mr. Perez...
4. My husband awkwardly assesses the weird weather situation in Philadelphia by stating,"I don't know, uh, September is always like this...a weird mixture of everything!"
5. My husband smiles at his answer, obviously proud...and more obviously oblivious to his statement.
6. My husband has a cute little shit eating grin.

And finally:
7. My husband has no idea what month it is.

I believe the best part of the short interview was when the announcer's voice-over boomed, "Not everyone was as confused as our last friend...".

Now that's just a slap in the face Walter, although you did make me chuckle...

But I start back at work today.

Only 191 more days until I am free again...

That's what she said yesterday when our shopping spree took a turn for the worst.

My mom and I went on our second (SECOND!) leg of shopping yesterday and that's what she said to me after I reverted to my 16 year old self and started to bitch when she tried to return a pair of shoes and the store clerk took forty five minutes and six registers to do the deed. I uttered the words, "If I knew this was going to happen," eying the clerk with disdain, "I would've stayed home and laid out." As soon as I uttered the words, I wished them back into my head but they had already spewed out of my mouth. My mom's eyes welled with tears and she said quietly, "When I'm done with this, you can take me home. And . You. Can. Go. Layout." What she really mean was, "when I'm done with this, you can take me home, and then you can go to Hell!"

We left the store and she whispered in a soft hurt voice, "I can't believe I wasted my day off trying to spend time with my daughter. It happens every time I try, you revert into yourself and become this sullen child. I love you, but I maybe we don't have to like each other." And with that, I started to cry right in the mall. "C'mon Mom, I'm sorry! I don't really want to lay out, I want to go to the book store!" (which was the next place on our itinerary).
"No! Just take me home!"

We got in the car, both of our eyes spilling quiet, painful tears that burned both of our faces. I kept pleading with her, "I'm sorry, I was being bitchy! I didn't really mean to aim it at you! Forgive me and let's get back to our day together?!?" But the damage was done. And then she uttered a phrase that had been seven years in the making,
"I know that you wish I had died instead of your dad...". (silence).
"Mom, you know I don't really think that..." (silence)


***minor bickering bounces back and forth that's not worth mentioning because it was petty***

"Stop here, I want to get you and John some vegetables." So I pulled off to the vegetable market and was confused that she even wanted to fill my fridge with veggies when this emotional firefight was going on. But deftly she moved through the small aisles and picked something out, pointed to certain things and even said, "Oh, you love sugar snap peas, let me get some of those for you!" I followed her confused, and watched her as she picked up all my favorite veggies and tossing them in the box. It was strangely comforting. I felt like it was meant to be comforting after all the harsh words...all the true (mostly--minus that one statement) words.

I dropped her off and I tried to focus on reading a book, I couldn't. I just cried, sending John a terse text message stating, "I just got into a bad fight with my mom. It was my fault :(" He called me immediately from work but I couldn't talk, I just cried, whimpered out a few sentences and then when he asked if I was going to be alright I just mumbled a tear filled, "I don't think so" and we ended the conversation because I couldn't talk and he couldn't make it right. I knew that he would hold me later and let me cry into his shoulder.

She called me a little later and we finally talked. For years we've been dancing around the subjects of my father's sudden death, me moving out, her getting a boyfriend, and all the rough spots in between. Both of felt abandoned by the other, loving each other from afar but rarely speaking our true minds when we'd get together. Yesterday brought all of that to a head, and I think I'm grateful for it. I never realized until she said it, "Your dad died and then you left me." (I lived with her for almost three years and then bought a house when I was 25 or 26) And then I was alone." I hadn't pictured her alone. I thought I had moved out because she was ready for me to do so. It appears that she wasn't...and it wouldn't have hurt me to stay with her a little longer. There was no pressing reason for me to move out, other than I felt inept with the fact that I was still living with my mother and all my friends were out building their lives. I wasn't really ready to move out either...events that followed my leaving her, proved that. It was almost as if I was begging to be taken back in. But I would've refused to go, and it appeared that she had moved on...by dating.
And we continued talking and making plans about starting over and dealing with my issue of keeping her at an arm's length--her death would kill me as much or more than my father's and about rebuilding our family. We focused less on shopping sprees and talked more about her and her boyfriend (whom I also kept at way more than an arm's length) coming over to dinner to share in my newfound culinary talents and simply making a present rather than living in what used to be and then getting angry that neither of us fit our past expectations.

We made up for the present and now I think we are going to start healing our past.

Tell me, do you know any other 30 year old woman who's going "Back to School" shopping (what? I'm going back to school...I'll just be working there) with her mother??

Be jealous.

Because I have to join the rest of the world and go back to work next week, my friends, the BCTs and I decided to have one last hurrah...and by hurrah I mean, a potluck dinner and a few glasses of wine. Over email, I piped up that I would be happy to make Chicken Marsala, which is probably the tastiest thing I can make in all the world. So this afternoon I set to work. Proud of my culinary talents, I packed everything up in some Tupperware, I followed the directions to my friend's new home.

When I pulled up I saw that I was the first to arrive. Not strange, I'm obsessive about being early or on time. I grabbed my phone and called Kelly. "Hey, are you 101 or 110?" She paused and seemed confused. I repeated myself, "Is your house number 101 or 110?" Kelly replied, "101" but there seemed to be a question in her voice. "OK, well I'm here" I said cheerily.

She opened the door with a baby on her hip and her dog did his best to tell me that he was not amused by my presence. She smiled and said, "This is going to be really funny..." I set my chicken on the counter and said, "What is?"
"Well M, you're a week early. But just think, you can take your chicken home and share it with John and then you can improve on it for next week."

So yeah, I apparently like to be so early that now I arrive at events a week early.

I am an ass.

Like all married couples we like to mix it up a little in the bedroom...

so last night was no surprise when John made quite a bold suggestion, and then I took that suggestion and ran with it! I could hear the incredulity in his voice as he said in the dark, "You're really going to do that?!?"

And kids, I can proudly say that I really did it...

I switched sides of the bed with him and we slept at the foot of the bed.

You don't have to tell me, smugly I can say that we are totally wild.


Sorry this is a way better story than when we were sitting on the couch and I started giving him a blow job while Cash Cab was on last night. What can I say, I'm competitive...if I know that the answer is "Mei Kong Delta" you damn well better believe I'm going to come up for air and shout it out. That's just the kinda gal I am.

There's only one reason why John is awesome this Monday morning...

and that reason is that he selected me as his partner for the summer quoit tournament (the boys have some fancy name for it, but it eludes me right now) that is coming up in a few weeks!

Saturday found me seated on the grass, sipping a beer in the heat watching John and his childhood friends throw quoits in the new "AQA approved" pits wishing that I could do something other than flick bugs off my jeans. Typically, the girls (usually just me and two other girls and a baby) sit off to the side of the pits and stare blankly as the quoits get tossed back and forth making small talk and avoiding errant quoits. John rescued me from this fate when he asked casually, "Do you want to throw a few?" My enthusiasm and excitement was tempered only by the fact that a) I had never thrown a quoit before and b) I hate sucking at things in front of people. But then I looked back at the two girls seated on the chairs and I realized that there was a far worse fate than throwing a few bad quoits. I happily jumped up and began practicing.

I wish I could say that I was a natural or plant the idea that I'm even remotely good, but I'm not. I got a lucky ringer, and I scored a total of two points in two games (that's 2 out of 42 points possible) but I had a lot of fun and it was nice that the guys were cool with me infiltrating their game. And I have a lot of hope for John and I in the tournament, because wouldn't it just be the ultimate Cinderella Story?? That being said...we might be Cinderella and Prince Charming of the Loser's Bracket, because the other guys that we "practiced" against on Saturday whipped us...badly.

I go to gas up my car as I am preparing to head to Harrisburg to celebrate my roommate from college's 30th birthday (How'd we get so old??) Turn the key and nothing. nada. zip. I have a dead battery. I wish you could watch me twiddle my thumbs waiting for AAA to come. Wooo! Here's hoping the evening now goes without a hitch!

But I did get her the cutest bangle bracelets from Swarovski...two skinny ones like this, and one thicker one. I know she's going to love them...because I love them!

Last night John and I were watching a comedian, Tom Pappa to be exact. Typically, we Tivo a bunch of Comedy Central Presents and weed them out/delete immediately if both of us don't issue a belly laugh in the first three minutes. Hey, it may be hasty, but there's only so much time in the day...

Well there we were on the couch laughing at Mr. Pappa's jokes when out of nowhere I start cracking up to the point where tears are just pouring down my face...but Pappa wasn't what I was laughing at. I pawed at the air and gasped, "Pause IT!"

John pauses it and looks at me quizzically, "What?"
And that's when I had to explain, well, after I laughed hysterically for five minutes by myself.

"Remember when we were watching that Lewis Black special and he said that there are certain sentences that if you think about long enough your head will explode?"
John nodded.
"Remember when he said, "Listen to this and try to wrap your brain around the mindfuck that is this sentence..."?
He nodded again, a smile spilling across his face. Like mind readers, at the same time we both uttered the sentence,
"If it wasn't for my horse, I would've never spent that year in college" and then we proceeded to laugh on the couch hysterically for about fifteen minutes.

The funniest part of this story came later when we were doing some things on the couch that shouldn't produce laughter when done correctly...and I couldn't stop thinking about the sentence!!! The best I could do was avoid eye contact, bite down really hard on my lip and think about baseball.

Seriously, say the sentence very slowly pausing appropriately at the comma and then tell me you didn't laugh. What the fuck does that even mean?

Last month I was interviewed here about my blog. Apparently, if you go there you can vote on blogs and leave comments. The most "interesting" comments can also win cash. I figure that's probably too good to be true...but the interview was fun so I thought I would spread the word about this new site.


A real post to come later...I'm wrapped in Potter, the gym and the sunshine right now.

I went to the vet today to take Frankie (my Lab to your left there) to get her booster shots (oh happy day for her!). Everything goes as expected, they try to give her shots and she does alligator rolls on the table. For some reason they kept asking me to tell her not to do that...like that will help. Sorry folks, if she doesn't want a shot, I doubt me calling her Schnukums is going to help. I joke, I did try to calm her down but she just kept doing her barrel rolls and licking my hands...but eventually, they got it all done. Other than that, it was an uneventful visit until we went to pay our bill.

Frankie and I stood at the counter patiently counting the seconds until the two of us could get the hell out of the veterinarian office...we can only take so much pep and baby talk so early in the morning. Seriously, Frankie hates baby talk. She rolls her eyes at people who talk down to her. She did a lot of eye rolling this morning. Well, we must've looked like a pair of irresistible brunettes that needed to be talked to, because some guy with a monster dog decided to take this opportunity to attempt to make small talk. Let's set the scene; my dog is desperately clawing at my arm begging to get the hell out of Dodge and his dog is about to eat her. What was his owner doing? Oh yeah, hitting on me. As Frankie recoils from the demon dog, the douche bag who was previously asking me if I lived in the area and other stupid questions (one in which involved my lunch plans) says to me, "You should probably keep your dog away from my dog, he hates other dogs!" and he says this very sternly as if Frankie was wagging her little tail and trying to play with his dog. Frankie was cowering between my legs and whining softly. I backed up a little more, glanced at the woman who was supposed to be "quickly" preparing my bill...it appeared that she was still preparing. In fact, it looked as though she was still prepping to prepare.

Douchebag's dog lunges at us again, and I back up a little more. He says again, this time even more firmly, "My dog doesn't like dogs, you should really keep your dog away from mine!" This man is crazy! Frankie is tucked between my legs, she hasn't moved at all--in fact, she looks like she's as stiff as a board with fear and I have now backed away from his dog three times and I'm only two steps from the door. So I gave him my patented "What the fuck did you just say to me?" look, took a deep breath and slowly uttered, "I was at this counter first waiting for my bill, you just came out and started hitting on me. I'm married and I don't want to have lunch with you if you noticed when I lacked enthusiasm in talking with you. If your dog has a problem with other dogs why don't you do us all a favor and get your dog the fuck away from mine?" I signed my bill with a flourish and gripped Frankie's leash tightly to leave, feeling like I probably overreacted and then the most unexpected thing happened...

a lady clapped...

and then supplied me with some interesting information. Apparently Douchebag's dog had bitten two other dogs in the waiting room...THAT DAY. After hearing that, I didn't feel like I was a bitch, I just felt like a good mom taking care of her dogbaby.