John's having a mini existential crisis...I guess turning 29 does that to you (I'm fairly sure why I had one then too). He's just coming to terms that he's not as cool, exciting and as rich as he had dreamed he would be. I think he's just as cool and exciting as ever...plus he gives a mean foot rub. He woke me up to tell me this last night (not in those words...at all) because he couldn't sleep. Then I started babbling because I couldn't sleep because, oh yeah, because he woke my ass up. A few minutes later he thanked me because my stories were "lulling him gently to sleep". I grabbed his balls for that one. But it was too late, the only response was "Zzzzzzzzzz" and a little drool on my shoulder.

On another note...

John's brother casually brought up the fact that he's looking at rings. This could be an interesting turn of events because he and his girlfriend are going to Vegas next week. Could it be a family tradition? All of us frugally hitting up the $39 "I Do special" at the Hollywood Chapel of Love? I have to say, I'm cautious about this one, they seem to be a fiery couple--fighting all the time, breaking up, moving out and then not being able to live without one another. I would never voice these concerns out loud because John's brother's a big boy and what do I have to go on? My longest and best relationship has been with John...all others were simply duds. Oh and that tiny fact that I married John after 6 months and a few breakups of our own. So...perhaps that's a family tradition too???

PS. My birthday is on Monday, feel free to plan what you're going to give me!

Every year (um for me, that means the past two years) we go out for John and his sister's birthdays since they are only two days (and four years) apart...and every year we go to Red Lobster. This is what happened at this year's luncheon:

Along with other gifts, John's dad gave him a newspaper clipping of the Star Wars exhibit in the city. It was really cute because his dad took notes to show John how cool it will be for him. His dad was utterly shocked when I told him that John didn't want to go to see it! And then I went on to explain that John's "trying" to branch out and find more interests other than just Star Wars (which isn't really true...he already has TONS of interests other than Star Wars but I was trying to get everyone to understand that). I mean, I'm doing this for my own self preservation. I now live with a Darth Vader cookie jar, we have Star Wars chess, DVD Trivial Pursuit Star Wars edition, and a life size fathead of Darth Vader down in our bar***none of which was purchased by John***, but honestly? I don't really want to have to keep decorating around Vader. He's cool and all...but he doesn't quite mesh with my love of Crate and Barrel.

Good thing I stopped explaining the lessened interest in Star Wars when I did because just then, John's mom arrived with three lovely gifts. A plush Vader who inexplicably had a baggie of jelly beans tethered to his arm, a Vader coin purse in the shape of an egg and a Star Wars Easter egg decorating kit. The jelly beans were quite tasty, and I will use the Vader coin purse because I won't look as dorky as John will if I leave it in my desk drawer. I guess we'll have to make Easter eggs and post the pictures because...well...that's just what you do when you receive an egg decorating kit.

Our waitress looked very frightened of us and very new...this appeared to be a messy combination. She became flustered when dropping off the entrees and ended up spilling butter all down John's brother's back leaving a very greasy and ugly stain. Let's just say he wasn't happy and he quietly expressed his unhappiness with the rest of the table. But John can't let anything go, so he flung cocktail sauce on the shirt (I'm not sure why? But he did it with glee...that much I know), which led most of the people at the table to believe that the waitress spilled that too. John cleared it up to keep his karma slate clean and received glares from his brother and a bemused look from me...I'm still not sure why he was flinging sauces!

Because John's brother was so upset about his sweatshirt, both John's sister and mom went into what I call "Mom Mode" (you know when your mom does anything and everything to make something right, even when you don't want them to) and began plotting the demise of the waitress...OK, so they didn't so much plot her demise as they plotted on getting free meals out of the deal. In fact, in a very loud voice John's sister exclaimed, "You should at least get a free dinner for that, or maybe even three!" She, was just trying to be helpful and cheer her brother up but it was loud...and it was embarrassing! In fact, so much so that John and I ran away from the table just to get away from everyone and the whole sweatshirt debacle. We received more than a few glares on our way out for our temporary reprieve. Because we all love each other, all was forgiven when we got back to the table but of course, John can make a joke of anything so we heard this from his mouth:

-Man, crab legs are messy….. Miss? Could I get more of my brother's shirts when you get a chance?

The rest of the long lunch almost alludes me because between our Alotta Colada (insert alotta vagina jokes here...) , Red Lobster's code word for ENORMOUS pina colada shared Lady and the Tramp style between John and I and my belly full of food, causing us both to slip in and out of a food coma. I came to here and there listening to John's brother talk about the military, Iraq, shooting things and martial arts. Don't get me wrong, his stories are always interesting but I was too focused on how much longer I could keep my jeans buttoned without dying.

Lunch with the fam, obviously there's never a dull moment. Seriously, it was 3 hours of pure blogging gold but I couldn't take notes at the table!! Next time, I'm just going to do it!

Posting has been minimal because a) I'm a little lazy and b) we are prepping for our second Thanksgiving together! For the second time we're gathering both of our families at our little home. It's an amazing feat that our families seamlessly and seemingly effortlessly all contribute items until we have absolutely everything we need. John has consulted with his TV girlfriend Nigella Lawson and found a recipe for his turkey brine...I'll be the first to admit I had no idea what brine was, nor did I recognize half of the spices and herbs that he placed on his shopping list. But now after seeing the madness that is a tupperware storage container filled with turkey and his assorted spices, I understand.

John is giddy with the responsibility of his very first turkey. He's a rare breed of man that I've married; he seems to be perfectly happy to be cooking while I am perfectly happy to watch him. I firmly stand by the rule that I will never cook anything that has a body cavity still intact. Gross. I will instead contribute a spinach and artichoke dip that never fails to please, it will be promptly on the table for consumption as soon as our hungry guests arrive. Mom will bring a ham because she knows that her princess finds turkeys alarmingly too large to eat (don't ask me what my deal is, I can handle chickens but turkeys are just too damn big to eat!! Weird phobia of big birds I suppose). John's mom will contribute pies, greenbean casserole and probably two or three surprise items while his sister will be making scrumptious mashed potatoes and lasagna (God bless the Italian side of my new family! More food options for me!) Everyone chips in and everyone makes something so mouthwatering that I may have to run out and buy a pair of elastic waist jeans, you know that I'd rock them...um no, I don't suppose anyone really can rock them.

On a related tangent...
Tonight is Thanksgiving Eve, two years ago tonight I met John for the first time. Typically on Thanksgiving Eve, I hit the bars with a vengeance and pay for it the entire Turkey Day...this year I am proud to say that I told John that I would cart his ass around town to the three local bars so that he can catch up with all of his old friends. He surprised me by saying that he really wasn't interested in going out. Then because we are both awesomely exciting, we took naps...he's still snoring over there so who knows if he'll change his mind after he wakes up recharged. You can read about previous nightmares/Thanksgiving Eves here and here and here (there are other more exciting posts but I can't find them...check the archives). Somehow I managed not to write about how I didn't wake up until 2pm when the first guest arrived last year...yes, my husband thought it would be best to let me sleep it off. I woke up with an elephantine hangover and suffered a thousand comments about how I looked a little under the weather. I vow to look at least alive for tomorrow.

I am completely thankful for John, Frankie, my mom and her boyfriend, my entire new family, Baby G, my friends, the Internets and all of you who read my sporadic ramblings. Have a great holiday and give a smooch to the person you love.

When you're hosting Thanksgiving for 13 family members it might be wise to replace the two couches that you and your husband broke while having sex. It saves the awkward explanation why the one cushion is ripped open and pulled away from the back of the sofa and why the other couch is no longer structually sound.

At least that's what we think, so we're going couch shopping tonight. Otherwise there would be 13 pairs of wide eyed stares looking at us with what I would expect would be awe and pride. Or perhaps, disgust? It could go either way really.

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 them...in 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' mine...be warned.

1. I came home the other day to find that ER's puppy (John's brother), had found my family size bottle of Elmer's White Glue...now why they make a family sized version and why I have it? It's all a mystery to me too! What happened though, was no mystery. Norman (the puppy who looks similar to this but much cuter) decided to chew open the glue and spread it all over himself and my poor tortured dog Frankie. Frankie looked at me as if to say, "Why did you do this to me? Why are you forsaking me?" And then she looked at me with menace and I swore if she could talk she would've said, "Get out of my sight before I have to cut a bitch!"

2. John and I wanted a little alone time together since John's brother is living with us for the rest of the month until his apartment is ready for him. The only place where you can be alone in our small house without looking anti-social is the bathroom...so we took a shower together. It's something that we used to all the time, but you see our bathtub is absolutely tiny...like almost as small as this. So, whenever we switch places to get closer to actual water there is brief moment when I feel like I'm playing the world's most deadly game of Twister...particularly when John drops the soap (insert prison joke here) and makes the bottom of the tub that much slicker. Seriously, if he didn't love me and if I wasn't worth like .35 cents dead, I'd almost think that he was trying to kill me.

3. My friend who is getting married this summer wrote me an email about how much she detests bra shopping but that she should probably purchase a " few new bras as she's going into this marriage." For some reason that just really tickled me. I'm wondering what state her brassieres are in right now...

4. I was talking with my friends over lunch and my one friend told me that her husband doesn't like the DIY version of This Old House because it's too commercialized and "sexy"...he misses the old PBS versions. He also likes The Deadliest Catch too, which I think is hilarious because if you've seen one episode, you've seen them all. Here let me catch you up. "Oh geez, it's really, really cold out here!" "Oh my gosh! We might get swept overboard!" "Holy crap! There aren't any crabs in the trap! We MUST STOP OVER FISHING...well, except for this time!" And that's my interpretation of the Deadliest Catch.

One thing that doesn't make me laugh hard? John took off for the rest of the week so that means that he's off today through Monday...it makes me want to stab him in the eye with a spoon as I get ready for work. However, since I'm a benevolent soul, I guess he can take off since he has to watch me lounge around work-free/carefree ALL summer!!!

I'm sure there are other things...but I'll be damned if I can remember!

I started crying when John's sister was showing us the set up nursery which is absolutely gorgeous. John laughed at me and held me as I whined, "I want a baby...I want all this cool stuff!" His sister came back and the room and John asked if we could borrow some of the stuff when/if we decide to get pregnant and I hissed to him, "Won't my baby be special enough to get her own stuff?" and then bawled. I think hormones are dangerous things. I continued to cry even as John patted my back and told me that my baby could be as spoiled as I wanted--adding quietly, "Just like you are."

If only this was the least brattiest thing I did this weekend...if only.

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

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

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

I'm awfully thankful for having an awesome husband. It will soon become apparent why.

This was our weekend (In list form because I'm lazy):

Friday-'Drink, drink, drink your face off ' (sing to "Shake, shake shake senora...") was our theme. We hung out at home, we did some drinking, we did some twisting into human pretzels, we did some breaking of furniture while twisting into pretzels, we did some testing of new $140 purchase (Which I was a big fan of, and I wholeheartedly approve of John's purchase...after the fact) After consuming mass quantities of rum we went over to our friend Tony's house and then out on the town (by town I mean the tiny Cornfield in which we live). After that I was carted to an after party that I don't really remember. I hear that I was brought home and carried tenderly into the house. However, I tend to think that I was dragged toward the door and then told to walk or he'd beat me for being such a lush...that's just a guess though.

Saturday- I woke up slightly drunk--to head off a hangover, John handed me a Screwdriver made with leftover Everclear--hmm, I love him because he gives me grain alcohol at 11:30 in the morning. Inevitably, hormones and boozed caused something "amazing" to happen...I started to cry because I'm a big baby and I missed my daddy--particularly because we always had such fun Thanksgivings. Then I received some bad news (while still drunk) on the phone and bawled some more. Unable to articulate my sorrow to John without hic-cupping, sobbing and wailing (then apologizing for being a "freak about everything"), John did the only sane thing that a man in his position could--he went out and bought vodka and wine which we sipped all day laughing, watching tv, and just have a leisurely good time. He cooked me an awesome dinner (the first of two), and made me a fort and called it Fort Leisure (which we slept in for the rest of the weekend). We went out to get a movie but when we came back...I had some of the most amazing sex ever--so good that the old lady that I am, hurt her hip/back from attempting to be all bendy like (Again!)...John can stay, it's decided.

Sunday--More maxin' and relaxin' in Fort Leisure where Leisure Wife (that's me), Leisure Dog and Leisure Spouse hung out all day watching football, rolling around laughing, John not laughing at any of my jokes!! Ever!! I took a nice two hour nap and when I awoke, there was a fantastic dinner in front of me! We found out on Sunday that our family Thanksgiving dinner that was supposed to be John, myself, my mom, her boyfriend, John's dad, John's mom, John's sister and her boyfriend has grown about more four people...apparently John's sister's boyfriend has four kids. Don't get me wrong, I like kids, but I don't know if I like four...in one room, on Thanksgiving (Speaking of kids, in my drunken state on Friday, I made John map out for me when I can have a baby because I'm feeling old...due to the fact that I will be 3-fucking-0 in less than four months...ick. Oprah has me scared since my fertility has been nosediving since 27--I never watch that stupid show, why'd I catch that one? I'm not really in a rush other than that).

So that's it in a nutshell. This Thanksgiving I'm going to give thanks for my awesome leisurely weekend, and laying around with the most fun person in the world. It was nice being pampered, in craziness, in drunkeness and in health.