I'm beat. I'll tell you the whole tale tomorrow...but first, let me share with you lots of pics (there's a few "fresh" ones so if you're not into the very newly delivered baby pics sorry)!!

Introducing: Thomas Jackson

Well, my decision is made...after making two other blogs (the one I may keep), I decided to plant my feet like Keri Strug and stick it out. Obviously, if I have a blog and I write about myself in a space as vast as the Internet, there's a level of expectation. I expect, I hope that people read my thoughts...so be it. I'm sure everyone with a blog has a moment where you wonder and worry--what you wonder and worry about varies on any given day.

So whatever, I'm back and here to stay.

On a totally different subject. Here are some marital questions for you that stem from recent discussions while snuggling on the couch:

1. Is it wrong to make your husband list all the people he's had sex with, including first and last names while you count on your hands and tsk, tsk him? How about when he forgets someone and you put her on the list for him because you've made him make the list before?

2. Is it wrong to be proud of your husband for not being a total slut, like...ahem...some people were at (brief) points in their lives?

3. While he's making said list, is it ok to make gagging noises/dog barks/and/or snickering sounds at the mention of some of the girls' names?

4. Is it wrong to declare that you are like Grover Cleveland in that you served two terms in his sex life, just not consecutively, to prove that you "won" and that the girl in between your "terms" is stupid and gross? (R, if you still read this...I'm not talking about you!)


5. Is it wrong that when your husband grabs you (and pokes you painfully in the ribs like you do to him ALL THE FREAKIN' TIME) for being a smartass and says, "Ok let's hear your list..." to declare that you were a virgin before him...even though you know that he's read your archives.

6. Is it wrong for a husband to ask you to define what a "tear" is. As in, "After so and so broke up with me, I went on a bit of a tear through men." Tear= However many men it takes to get over the last relationship. (As some wise woman once said, "The best way to get over a man, is to get under another one")

7. Is it wrong that your husband is convinced that you've slept with over 100 people! Even though you try to allay his fears that the number is much, much lower. C'mon John...I had to work every now and then, I couldn't lay around in bed all the time!

8. And finally, is it wrong that when your cute husband asks you if you need anything before he leaves for work (because you are on vacation!), that you say sweetly, "A nice hard cock would do me nicely" knowing that he would love to crawl back in bed with you but he has to begin his long commute into the city and he knows what you'll be doing...if you remembered to buy batteries!

Well these are a few of them...

Our gorgeous view of the Chrysler building, my roses, lots of pictures from Jekyll and Hyde--one of the best weekends ever.

Well, I loved when the muppets did it, so it seemed like an appropriate title. Here's a little recap of our weekend (which started a little early).

Thursday- I was still feeling under the weather with this lingering illness that would not disappear, it wasn't a big deal, I just couldn't breathe out of my nostrils. I dragged myself over to my mom's workplace (an enormous chain superstore) to pick up John's birthday present from her and to see if I could find any last minute gifts. I left with nearly empty hands, only with Mom's gift of money wrapped neatly in a card that looked like a black lab.

That night, I dosed up with some cold and flu medication and we headed off to thitwbar to celebrate with friends since I was whisking John away from everyone to celebrate in NYC. John was a trooper, he down pitchers of beer and a plethora of shots as if it were his 21st birthday. His mom came to help us celebrate and I could see in her eyes that she wasn't particularly pleased that I was getting him so sloshed but, I could see in his eyes that he was enjoying himself, and hey, you'll never be 28 again, right? Again, we brought our friends home with us and continued the party in the basement. Eventually, we remembered that we had to drive the next day so we finally trudged upstairs to sleep.

Friday- John's actual birthday! I attempted to cure birthday hangover with birthday sex! It didn't cure anything but it was a nice start to the day, and with the money I was spending on the weekend, it was the only gift I could give him. Sometimes I'm so selfless, so giving, I even amaze myself (ha ha). We quickly packed a bag, kissed our dogbaby goodbye (left in the tender loving hands of E and T to take care of for the weekend) and headed out on the road...only after we stopped for some greasy fast food--phase two in my attempt to cure us.

It seemed like New York was a million miles away but when we pulled up to our hotel, it was all worth it. We checked in and oohed and ahhed over our view from our balcony. I couldn't have planned it better, from our room we had a breathtaking view of the Chrysler building (pictures to follow when we eventually unpack the car). After resting, recuperating and again performing resuccitative sex, we went out to dinner to celebrate John's birth. We set out on the streets as tourists, looking up at the tall buildings, laughing, pointing out landmarks and enjoying the whipping winds of the city. With no idea where we wanted to go, we just wandered until our faces were numb and our ears were pink and burning. Ultimately, we ended up at the Playwright and had dinner and martinis. After we filled our bellies we walked around a little more but then decided to head back to the hotel to rest up for our next day. Truly, celebrating takes it out of you.

Saturday- We slept in, rolled around in our king size bed, basked in the glory of having two different kinds of HBO (when you're just starting out in marriage, you can't really afford the fancy channels). Then on the agenda, more sightseeing! Walking arm in arm with large smiles splayed across our faces we went in and out of stores, I experienced my first Starbucks (not that there aren't any around the Cornfield, I just never went into one) and we spent most of the day walking around. Then it happened. We turned the corner and we saw a sign that said "$11.95 buffet with all you can drink for an hour". Then I saw the name of the place Jekyll and Hyde and I was sold! It was solid corny fun, plus no lunch can be complete without seeing Frankenstein's monster get resurrected.

We had lunch, we sat at the bar and then I decided to buy John flowers. But being more than a little tipsy, I didn't just walk across the street and buy them from a vendor--oh no that would be too easy-- I called someone to have them delivered (don't ask...I'm an idiot). So I walked back into the bar and said, "John, we're just going to have to stick around until 6:30" and that's when I was informed that we had two hours to sit around...(slap hand on forehead!)...we managed to entertain ourselves at the bar during that time, making friends with the bartender and inviting him to join us in celebratory Jameson shots. Right before John's flowers came, I came back from the bathroom surprised to find that in my seat there were two dozen pink roses...for me. Apparently, great minds think alike.

Finally, John's flowers arrived and they were hideous! It was a gross arrangement with a tacky vase (I had asked for just a bundle of roses so he could carry them around)...we ended up giving them to another patron of the restaurant so that we could walk home unencumbered. Hey, it was a good idea in theory!

So that was most our weekend...oh except for the little matter of being certain that I was pregnant while incredibly drunk--let me clarify, I didn't think I was pregnant before I was drunk or I wouldn't have been drinking. This certainty/drunkeness caused me to ask the front desk to get me a pregnancy test (Hey the W's motto was Whatever. Whenever, that applied right?). Guess what? I'm not pregnant, but I am embarassing!!!

I know I had a great time, I wish there had been more time to see and do more things and of course, I am sad that the Evil Dead closed the weekend before we got up to see it, so now I have to fight for my money back. I believe I accomplished my goal, however, and that was to have a special weekend with the birthday boy.

John...this one's for you. Oh and may the force be with you and all that jazz. (Keep reading for a real explanation folks)

When you get a sleeve of Star Wars tattoos as John did, people assume that you're obsessed with Star Wars and that is the only interest that you ever have involves Star Wars...this would explain why he got a Darth Vader head cookie jar (perhaps it's actually a bank??) for Christmas from his sister. And it's pretty clear that he's a little sick of getting SW stuff all the time, but he's very gracious in accepting it and therefore will continue to receive the it when he's old, gray and using a walker (perhaps there will be a Millennium Falcon model by that time?) I'll admit, I fell into the same trap when I first met him and I did the same thing to him last year with the hoodie that is now referred to as " that gay Boba Fett hoodie". This is a little harsh because it was the first gift I ever purchased him and because I lost the receipt so I only got $24 back for it and in reality I just wanted to sex him up as a Valentine's gift, but whatever. That's what you get for trying to be "classy"...

Since we aren't going to be able to spend Valentine's Day together (which isn't a travesty or anything, but it would've been nice) since he has night class and he has to take a test. I decided to prepare this "very special" Valentine's Day post for him. It's only a joke...

I wouldn't do this to him, for reals.

Although...next year I was thinking about getting him an ewok.

I tried to stay up to greet him when he came home from night class. First he missed his train, then he hit the bar and caught the next one. Who could blame him? He had been in the city since 8:30 in the morning for work and then he was stuck there until his 7:30 night class that didn't let out until 10. Typically, I see him around 11:30, but not last night. At 11:30, I couldn't fight the pull of my eyelids any longer and I fell asleep...slumbering I'm sure, like an angel and not like the log sawing menace that I'm often described as.

Twelve thirty rolls around and I'm awakened by lips kissing me. John was kneeling by my side of the bed and whispering to me, "Hey baby, I missed you." Still mostly asleep, I smiled into the darkness and said, "Yeah? I missed you too." And then he scampered downstairs and grabbed my trusty Mac powerbook and loaded his myspace page next to me. I was puzzled to say the least, then he started singing the Daniel Johnston song that he recently added to his page after seeing the documentary, The Devil and Daniel Johnston together the other day.

"I put this song on there because it reminds me of you" and then he began to sing in a hushed voice to me:


I love that girl so much
I can't get enough of her love, crazy love
She walks on down the street
Shufflin' with her feet
She walks in to the store
Boy I love that crazy girl
She brightens up my day
And everything about her is okay
I don't care what they say
I love that girl
I love her tender touch
And everything about her means so much
She's always on my mind
She's so nice and kind
I love that girl so long
I feel just like King Kong
Someday I'll find that girl
I love that girl, I love that girl so much I can't get enough of her crazy love.

I don't remember falling back to sleep but I'm sure I had still had a smile on my face.

As I wrap the blanket tighter to ward off the chills which will in a few minutes switch over to waves of heat that will force me to rip the blanket away from my body and fan myself, I attempt to remember about the last time took care of me when I was sick, other than my mom or dad when I was younger...and I thought hard...and I realized that in fact, I've never had anyone play nursemaid for me other than John.

He's a wonderful nursey. He doesn't make fun of my raw face from countless blows into the plethora o' tissues. He doesn't even make fun of the sounds my nose makes either. This is quite a feat not to laugh at because the sound is a cross between an evil Canadian goose and an angry elephant. He forces liquids on me, and fizzes up my Alka-selzer. And then he searches the house for Nyquil for me so that he too, can get some rest.

...and the winner of the best new wife eva is...ME! Like you didn't know I was going to say that in the first place. Seriously though, I casually asked John what he wanted to do for his birthday next month because at first I was going to plan something all stealthy-like. Even though his birthday isn't until the end of February, planning birthdays is something I enjoy and obsess over. Because of this, I spent countless days frowning at the computer, typing furiously and trying to find something "unusual", "exciting" and "cool" on Google to do for his bday. Unfortunately, the shemale that kept turning up in my searches wasn't exactly "the exciting surprise" what I was thinking about.

Ideas that were nixed (besides Shaundra the Shemale):
1. Huge surprise party at the local VFW. Pros: it's pretty cheap to rent out, it's right by our house for easy drunken John unloading, all of our friends could come and it could be a lot of fun. Cons: It's the local VFW, I think I could do something with a little more class than a kegger up the street from our house.

2. Go to Mexico for a four day weekend: sure we'd have to go the week before his birthday, but in every life there must be a little sacrifice, or so I'm told. Pros: Warmth, sun, margaritas, sand, tan lines Cons: John doesn't have a passport and President Bush is an idiot.

3. Go to Atlantic City and pretend we're high rollers for the weekend: Pros: fun, intimate little weekend in a fun town. Cons: Neither of us are really big gamblers and we wouldn't really do much high rolling. PRO: I probably would've gotten rolled on the bed quite a bit if I did this option! Con: It's cold and sad when you go to the beach but can't go into the water in February.

I couldn't think of what to do for him, so I gave up the stealth factor and sent him a very straight forward email, "What do you want to do for your birthday?" because I didn't know if he wanted a wild party, I didn't know if he just wanted to spend it with me, or with his family or with the Pope...I just wasn't sure about any of this--although, I had a niggling feeling that he didn't want to spend his birthday with the Pope; maybe the old Pope but not the scary new one. He looks like the Emperor from Star Wars. So instead of digressing about the Old Pope/New Pope controversy...let me just say, that asking John what he wanted to do for his birthday was the best thing I could've done, because I would've never thought of this:

He wants to go to NYC to see Evil Dead: The Musical. As the wonderful person that I am (can I say that? I think definitively that I can...) I called some woman in New York and inquired about tickets for the particular Febuary weekend. I had to fight with the woman about the fact that "Yes, indeed I DO want tickets located in the "splatter zone!"" For those of you unfamiliar with this musical, blood flies (splatters if you will) onto the audience members in the first few rows of the theater house, very similar to the ye ol' Gallagher comedy shows...except with blood, not with watermelons.

To top off our weekend and to make us feel like true bonafide married adult people (weird that I'm turning 30 and I don't feel like an adult quite yet),I checked us into the W hotel for the weekend. I think that they will truly embrace us when we return home from a night at the "theatre" drenched in fake blood. Oh wait, who am I kidding, this is NYC...no one will even notice.

On the bright side, for the amount of money I am spending on two nights in the city that never sleeps I make a prediction that John will not be sleeping either . This is because no one rides for free. I will be making him work off his share of the room in sex. I may even buy him dinner first to seal the deal, because then he'll have to put out. Ain't love grand?

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.

It's official. The dog loves John more than me. I've raised this dog for four long years. John breezes in and becomes #1 human, just like that, he's the ONE. In fact, I tried to bribe her for her love today by giving her a little piece of my filet mignon and she took it. Then she looked at me as if to say, "Bitch, I know he's got prime rib in there."

I cannot win.

Melina: John, do I look ok?

John: You look prettier tonight than I've ever seen you. Wow, your boobs are getting big!

Melina: Shit! Gross...it's just because the rest of me is getting bigger too.

John: You know what your problem is?

Melina: I'm fat?

John: No you can't see yourself from behind. *makes a face like Kramer from Seinfeld and mimes an hour glass shape*

Melina: (looks at bruises around waist) Thanks for man handling me by the way!

John: (places hand in the handprint at my waist as if to check to see if he was the culprit, and looking like he wanted to manhandle me a little more, he looks at me and states) Sheesh!

Fast forward to sitting at the bar waiting for the other two couples at dinner. Melina bores John's pants off by explaining how getting perfectly groomed eyebrows makes you look and feel prettier. She inititates this conversation by grabbing his hand and making him feel her upper lip and saying, "Look Ma, no 'stache!" (I'm classy, yo)

John: So when I said you looked prettier than I ever saw you before...

Melina: MmmHmm, it's the eyebrows!

John: And you do this once a month?

Melina: Thereabouts...whenever I need it.

John: And it's expensive?

Melina: Well...the place I go to yes, but it really is an art.

John: Oh I'm going to be paying for that comment aren't I?

Melina: Oh hells yeah you are...

John and I exchanged all of Christmas presents over the past two days. In fact, not six minutes after I wrapped the presents I handed them to John and urged him to open them with gleefully clapped hands and an impish grin.

And he gave me all of mine.

And I made out like a (geek) bandit. I got ALL the books that I asked for Christmas from Santa. I got three awesome CDs, a gorgeous sepia photograph and...
my
favorite
gift
EVA!!!
Seasons one and two of VERONICA MARS!!!! How excited am I? As excited as anyone could ever possibly be. John could attempt to hand me $3,000,000 and I would brush him aside and scold him for standing in front of my home girl Kristen Bell.

My mom yelled at us over dinner last night (with a smile) for opening our gifts early and she and I took a little trip out so that John has more gifts to open on Christmas...shh...don't tell...she bought him lotsa stuff (I think she's gunning for Mother in law of the year or something!?!).

And now for something awesome?? I received something like eight books and I have ten days off from work, it's a blissful, blissful life I lead!

I have had a seething rage for everyone and everything that has crossed my path since 6:30 in the morning yesterday until this very second...aside from Frankie and Johnny (um yeah, that's right I have a dog named Frankie and a man name Johnny how cute is that? Especially since Johnny has no clue about the significance) . But that's just because they are so adorable that I couldn't unleash my unending anger on them. I feel the rage slowly receeding. I think I need a little time away from work tonight. I'm putting a ban on it. I'm going to go home, get a bath, read a book, pick out something yummy (but healthy) to eat, wait for my Johnny to come home--snuggle and 'poon on the couch...and let the rage rise again tomorrow--because I'm not gonna lie, it's hard to be me.