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Tuesday, April 29, 2008

There's still a weenie glass left...

It's my birthday! It's my birthday! It's my birthday!!!! I'm 34 today... here's a picture of me at exactly my birth minute on my birthdate (I just happen to be up at 6:50 am today...)See the 34 year old bags under my eyes? Read the post below to figure those out! And for what it's worth... the top is a scrub top and not my preferred choice of clothing... I mean it's big multicolored flowers for christ sake... and pink. Not the fun, flirty kind of pink... the bright florescent kind. But it's comfortable... and required in my job description.

So I spent the day reminding people it was my birthday... fun for me, not as much fun for other peoples... but they all have birthdays too, so they were (seemed) understanding.

My coworkers were gracious and kind enough to buy my lunch for me... Vietnamese food, my very favorite. We all ate lunch together... this was the first time today that I ate too much.

On the way home I had to stop by the grocery store. Our local grocery is famous for it's birthday cakes... I hadn't had a birthday cake yet.... fortunately there were pieces of birthday cake available for just a couple of bucks, so I totally scored one of these and all the glorious sugary icing that was free with the purchase of the cake. (This was the SECOND time I ate too much.)

My last birthday event for the day was meeting up with my girlfriends for dinner. Mark had class until 7pm and wouldn't feel like going out after because he played in the mud all day.

We met up at Olive Garden. The waiter carded me... I had to walk the half mile, in the snow, uphill, back to my car to get my license (hyperbole, it was 67 and Sunny). I fought it, thinking he'd relent... I'm 34 today, after all. He did not.

When I got back Jess and I ordered a pitcher of Sangria. First, I thought that the pitcher of Sangria would be 12ish bucks... it's $20. That's a warning for other Olive Garden goers, cause they don't tell you that when you order it (sneaky bastards.)

The waiter, whose name is either Breeden, Eric, or Keith, took our order. I ordered shrimp caprese and Zuppa Toscana soup (the third/last time I ate too much.) The girls ordered Salad and entrees.

Now, I do realize that the salad is easier to serve than the soup... it's premade, it's in a big bowl.. whatever... but they should come out close to one another. After about 10 minutes the waiter comes back, the girls are done with their salads and I say to him "I think you hate me." He scoffed and asks, why... I tell him it's cause he hasn't brought my soup.

He is like superman at this point running to get my soup. When he gets back with it, I tell him I was just fucking with him... he laughs, acts like he already knew that... but the truth is, he looked like he peed himself when I said it.

Meanwhile, Jess is dousing herself in Sangria. I drank 1 and half generous glasses... she drank the rest... including the weenie glass of Sangria that was left.
Here's proof:
I also have a video(which is fuckin' AWESOME), but am not savvy enough to figure out how to load it. So Jess got tossed and Mere and I laughed our asses off at her. She rules.

This was my birthday day. Weekend celebrations were most excellent... Friday night 6 of my favorite girlfriends took me to a Hibachi grill. The funniest part of that was the very asian guy with a heavy asian accent yelling "Who's your DADDY?" and smacking the steak with his spatula. Only to follow it up with "Say MY NAME! What's MY NAME?!" Freakin' hysterical.

So, 34 has been hard for me. I'm a very goal oriented person. Waiting is not easy for me. I've wanted a baby for as long as I can remember... I thought it would be easier for Mark and I than this... and I really had myself convinced I'd have a successful pregnancy by 34. I failed at this ridiculous goal. And, honestly, part of me feels like I've failed at marriage/life-in-general. When I stop and think about it logically I know better, so none of this "oh, Jenn don't be silly." bullshit, cause I know. Sometimes you can't help that internal voice. I'd yell "FUCK YOU"... but I'd just laugh at that cause it'd be funny.

As hard as 34 has been, I can honestly say this... this has been probably one of my very favorite birthdays. Maybe it's because I had no expectations or desires of fun or presents (though I got awesome diamond earrings from Mark and Mere bought my awesome dinner Friday night!!! ) or maybe it's because I'm getting over myself... who really knows. All I can say is it's been GREAT!!

Monday, April 28, 2008

If I can't sleep... you can't sleep!

This is apparently my husband's motto and we're about to battle over it.

Last night I was dosing off on the sofa... almost asleep.. he starts asking "honey are you sleepin'?" I grumbled my yes and then he decided it was a good idea to throw a dog toy (plastic football) at me... just to make sure. Now, I love my husband and I know he loves me, but this behavior? This is bullshit.

So I get up and stomp off, expressing my anger with a huffy silence, and he asks me what's wrong. I tell him he's a jackass and I'm sick of him being selfish and there's no purpose in him waking me up. He says "But I missed you." WTF-ever. No.

So tonight he was dosing off on the sofa and about every 15 minutes I'd ask him if he was hungry/thirsty/tired... whatever, just to keep him from sleeping. I'm a bitch, yes... but I don't care. Ok, I care. I don't want to that girl. I just want to sleep.

Another thing he does... he hates it when I go to bed before him. He can function on 5-6 hours of sleep, I cannot. I tell him this, I explain that I need 8-9 hours of sleep per night. He just doesn't believe me.

I'm not sure what else I can do to explain all this to him. I am considering knocking him out every night when I want to go to sleep... but what do I use? A bat? drugs? hypnosis?

Maybe I'll try them all and see which one works the fastest!

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Sundays

Sundays are the very best day of the week. Except for the whole 'having to go to work' tomorrow part, they are the day I look forward to most.

This morning we woke up early, went to breakfast, then some shopping for our new room redo. We went to World Market and an antique shop. It was fun.

Then we came home and I took the very best nap I've ever had. Cooked dinner, watched a movie (The Heartbreak Kid... it was ok.) And now we're chillin'.

Sounds boring, I know... but it's been great. We did see an elephant statue at the World Market... that was probably the highlight of the day. Ha.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Only weird people yard sale... not sex offenders.

We went yard sellin' today. We didn't sell anything, but rode around looking to purchase another persons used garbage. We didn't buy much. I picked up a new photo album to make something for my mother-in-law for mother's day. And I picked up some curtains. They're sheer mossy green. I'm not sure if I'm going to use them as is, or play on my new sewing machine and make something crazy. (My definition of crazy = pillows or a quilt. What can I say, I'm wild.)

We didn't drive far, but I'm not sure that was a wise thing. Meeting your neighbors is not always a good idea. You find out that you've got some really WEIRD people living Right.Next.Door. Serious fruit loops... they're ten feet away from you.

We commented on the weirdness of our neighbors and my gf asks if we'd checked the sex offender's registry... Mark says, I don't care about those people, I just care about the creepy people.

So we commented that perhaps, by definition, sex offenders ARE creepy people. He didn't really have a response for that, but I'm pretty sure we're right.

Truth is we haven't checked the sex offenders registry... I'm not sure I want to know. I'd rather be surprised than worry over it. Honestly, knowing the peeps in my neighborhood are this weird is worry enough.

A Neapolitan life

Strange title? Sure. But please, blame my husband. He came up with it... sort of.

We have been trying to conceive little Marks or little Jenns since the month we got married. We were finally successful in March. Unfortunately it didn't work out for us. When I told Mark the bad news, he was incredibly supportive. I have not handled it as well as he has and I worry about how we'll live if we don't procreate.

This is how he figures it goes.

Our life is like an ice cream sundae with the works. Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry ice cream, whipped cream, wet nuts (heh, he said "wet nuts"), bananas, chocolate sauce, caramel sauce... whatever you want.

The baby? the baby is the cherry. While the cherry makes it slightly better, the ice cream is incredibly satisfying all by itself.

Thus the birth of A Neapolitan life.