I am high on life right now. The Universe just opened up and said to me, "Melina, you're still hot...even at thirty and even if you do have a little double chin kiddo!" And this is how...

I was on my way to pick up a new book and I was following behind a bus full of middle school boys. First they waved at me, so I waved back. They looked at each other with excitement and bounced around with what I believe was sheer glee. Then one kid stepped up to the window and held a piece of paper against the glass. I leaned forward and squinted assuming that they had written every curseword they knew and were trying to impress me by telling me to "Fuck off bitch!" or something equally "cute". But no...

I couldn't read it, so I raised my hands to the sky and shrugged, giving them the universal code for, "I have no idea what that says!" and so the leader of the pack kid leans against the glass, smooches it, winks, and gives me the "Call me!" sign with his thumb and pinky while wiggling his eyebrows up and down like Groucho Marx. I couldn't stiffle my giggles.

Instead of them all busting into laughter as I expected, the other boys put their windows down and leaned their heads out and I heard four young voices screaming, "Do it! Do it! You're so fucking hot! Call him!" and they threw a ball of paper out the window (with presumably the digits). This must've been the last straw because the bus driver stopped the bus. He went to the back and from what I could see, he yelled at the boys. Then he got off the bus, picked up the ball of paper and said to me, "Sorry about these boys...they shouldn't be cursing out the window." I could only reply, "Don't worry about it, they're only boys." Very good, sweet, wonderful boys for making me feel "so fucking hot". ha ha...

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...

Having a partner in life is like having a partner in crime--someone to bounce ideas off of. Since we're not like Bonnie and Clyde or Kit and Holly, mostly the ideas that I bounce off John go a little like this:
Me: John do you think it would be a good idea to crawl across the dance floor like a panther over to Bethany?
John: Yes, that sounds like a perfectly sound idea.

And that's why I ended up crawling on the floor...I don't have John to blame, but I did have his endorsement.

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While watching the Aviator last night, John turned to me in the darkness and said, "Wow, the first three hours of this movie were pretty good. I wonder how the next two hours are going to go." True, it was a good movie, but it was long too.

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We went to this place where you sit outside and cook your own food on an open grill. First you go up to the meat counter and pick out what you want to grill. John went up to the counter and said, "I want something really weird and different to eat." The girl politely pointed out some kind of pitch black looking meat and said, "You could cook that..." and then trailed off (quite honestly, I don't even know what that stuff was!). John grimaced a little and pointed at the wild boar kabobs and said, "I think I'll cook this instead."
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While laying in bed last night and John was trying to sleep, I poked him and said, "You're like a cute little baby, I love you so much that I don't want to let you go to sleep." A statement to which he grunted and said, "You sound like my mom." It made me giggle, because that's what every girl wants to hear when she's in bed with her husband...

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And finally, any time that I'm not fully appreciative of how great John is, I just watch a little bit of Confessions of a Matchmaker and afterwards, I give John a big ol' smooch, because he's not a weirdo like most of the people on the show. Here, take a look:

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 again...like 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!

This is me...

You don't have to say it, I know it...John's a lucky man...

Alternate Title: Things to Do in a Farmer's Market When Bored

PS. Yes, those are Confederate flags in the background...that's how you know I live amongst the illuminati

It will be titled, 52 subtitled...How I Got Married in Under 52 Weeks...sub-sub titled It May Not Work for You Because John and I Totally Rock

(I may leave off the sub-sub...don't want to look too pretentious,right?)

Each chapter will be a "step"...a step in which we did something right, or did something wrong. Let me map out my book for y'all. All of the embarassing steps are steps that I might leave out if I were you, or anyone trying to make the long trek to love.

Step 1- Make Your Boy Believe You're Cool- For example: I told John that I would be in Philly on a random Tuesday for tacos (by the way, the anniversary for this fateful first hangout--not quite a date--was last night! Whoo! I wish I could say I did something clever like make tacos for dinner, but alas, I thought of it right before I drifted off to Nodsville). I never went to the city, I didn't have the money or the coolness to actually be roaming the city on worknights but...I sure did send him a text message saying where I was going to be and that he should meet up with me. His reply, "Will you be wearing pigtails?" Sadly, I forgot to put them in that night. I learned from my mistake.

Step 2- Stay Away From the Phone- I flirted with that boy hardcore over text messages only. I knew that my kryptonite was my telephone banter. I'm fun, I'm witty...on the phone there's lots of silence and small talk...very, very uncomfortable small talk. Mistake I learned from this? Text messages are often ambiguous and as much as I thought I was flirting with him, there were times when he had no idea what I was talking about...and like-wise with him.

Step 3-Ask Him Out On a Date- (before someone else can)- I'm not going to deny that I was instantly intrigued by ol' Johnnyboy, and who wouldn't be? He's good looking, he's smart, he's super sexy and he has the softest lips that have ever touched mine (although I didn't know it at the time, I suspected that they were sooooft). So what's a girl to do? Sit around? Wait for a call? The Rules and He's Just Not That Into You would say yes. I would give a definitive, "No." If you were looking for a job, and you saw the most ideal position in the classifieds would you sit around and wait for them to call you? Perhaps...but you wouldn't get the job. In this case, I probably wouldn't have intrigued John into putting his suede soft lips upon mine.

Embarassing Step 4-Go Out Without Knowing that Your "Friend" is Going to Show Up- In a strange turn of events, I somehow got my period four days early. Unfortunately for me, I got that "friend" (who appears to be somwhat of a showboating jerk of a friend) mid sex the morning after our first sex. So basically I'm saying, the second time I had sex with John, I imprinted into his memory a bloody crime scene. Not that you couldn't guess this but...it wasn't hot. In fact, after he left, I sat on the edge of the bed and cried, thinking that I would never get to see that penis (I mean, the sweethearted man) again.

Semi-embarassing Step 5- Be Very Bold- So, say you're me. You've had crime scene sex with a man, he still seems interested in you...you've apologized multiple times and he seems actually sympathetic! Yeah! He's quite a catch (and remains so, to this very moment)! So say, you get asked on a second date, this time on his turf...you have to pull out the stops. He already knows that you like sex and you've found out his little turn ons like knee socks, pigtails and Jameson Irish Whiskey. You MUST do something with this knowledge.
In this case, I showed up promptly at seven most likely looking like I was trying too hard in knee highs (hidden under my jeans as a little surprise/in case he didn't want to take my pants off, he didn't know I did it), with long low pigtails with bangs sweeping across my forehead and a small bottle of whiskey to present him when he opened the door. Luckily, in my case, after the first glass of whiskey, he took my pants off in the kitchen and appreciated everything that I had done to "prepare" for the date. Ah...but I was heading to hookup material here only, wasn't I? Being a trollop doesn't often pay off...even though I would say that I wasn't being a trollop, I was being me and enjoying life...anyways...how to fix that issue??

Semi-embarassing/I don't think I actually did this-Step 6- Be Brazen- After the kitchen sex we went out for dinner. It was all incredibly exciting for a country bumpkin like me. We didn't go anywhere fancy, we just went to a place that had scrumptious food and was well known to the city folk. Apparently, John told me that he had other dates lined up...kind of like telling me..."Hey, we can hook up, but I'm not saying I'm not hooking up with others." Apparently, I asked him to cancel said dates and to date me exclusively because I only wanted to date him and (the and is what I think saved me, because I sounded like a confident woman, and not a needy one) "that I didn't have time to wait around and see if he wanted to date me or not." I believe that I said it, because I can pull of the dating bravado necessary for such a statement.

More steps and flubs from the past year later...I don't want to overwhelm you with my (lack of) awesomeness just yet. John, if you get bored at work (which I know you're overwhelmed right now so don't worry), you can add your two cents to this post.

I will be 30 in 69 days. Never has the number 69 seemed so dirty to me in my life.

Last year at this time, I was frantically getting off of work and running to the mall to find T and myself something stunning to wear out. We were excited, we were getting out of town on the biggest bar night of the year...how far out of town? Not far at all...but we still managed to call it the Far Away Bar. I remember being at the mall and trying to find an outfit and then thinking to myself, "What's the point, I'm not going to be meeting anyone anyways" but somehow I still managed to purchase a cool black drapy tanktop that had silver mesh at the top that met in a V on my chest. Being as poor as I was last year, I had to wear a black tuxedo jacket over top of the shirt because I had to leave the tags on i...I knew as soon as the night was over, it was going back.
Because I never drove anywhere last year since my location was just too close to thitwbar, I offered to have a sober Thanksgiving Eve and drive T around...that notion even shocked the hell out of me, but it was more important to me to make sure that my friend had a fun, and safe time. As it turned out, my decision was best, because it was the first snowfall that night as well!

We got to the bar and I described the whole evening like this...
That was the night I met John. I was there for all two hours and only about twenty minutes while he was there. He was one of the "cute boys" that we regretted leaving the bar because, but he (and all the other cuties) was only a minor footnote in the blogpost (which is really awful and I must've had nothing to write about) because I never expected to hang out with him again...he was living in the city, I had heard that he had " girlfriend problems" (which I later learned first hand about sadly) so I chalked the experience up to this--I took his picture with T (John dated T's old best friend at one point), I sat across from them for about ten minutes while they caught up, I was introduced and then we left. I asked T on the way out, "Who was the guy with the hot guy with the cane?" (hot guy with the cane=John's old roommate) and she said, "Him? That's John. He's really cool, but he's not your type." In my head I questioned, what was my type these days? Jerks, losers, ex-boyfriends? At this point I was well into my man ban and had been sex free for about two, close to three months...I was trying "to get my shit together so I could figure out what I actually wanted in a man besides sex"...holy shit, who knew that Man Bans actually work? (Amber probably does,but she's a smarty pants)

I never mentioned him again to T until we hung out with him and Tony randomly one December night and then I said to her the next morning after he dropped us off at home, "He's kinda sexy." She gave me a look, "You think so? I wouldn't think he'd be your type."
But quite frankly it had taken everything in me not throw the poor boy on the ground and have my way with him...but of course, he's mentioned as a footnote again in the blog because I didn't want anyone to think I was obsessing about him or starting my "crazy talk"...in the back of my mind though, he was there.

And now John's mine all mine.
So this Thanksgiving, I'm giving thanks that I got to meet John that snowy night at a bar I never go to...and John's probably cursing the evening and all of tenaciousness that followed :)