Oh, holy hell, people.

We went to a birthday party today. For a seven year old.

It morphed into the adults playing cornhole in the backyard.

When is a good time to leave the party? When you see that points in the cornhole game are being celebrated with shots of Jagermeister.

Who is conked out on the sofa right now? If you guessed Sweety – you win!

I drove home and by the time I got the car parked he was passed out in an unglorious heap asleep on the living room floor. I went to bed. I woke up awhile later to what sounded like a hippopotamus dying. It was just Sweety. Puking all over the floor. It looks like someone was murdered in the living room.

Yes. I’m looking at puke splashes as I type. All of this carpet is going to be ripped up and replaced within the next few weeks so I’m not cleaning it. I fought the dogs over it as I scraped up the chunky stuff (how weird is it that Oliver won’t taste alcohol out of a cup but he will tear up some Jagermeister and M&M infused upchuck?) and I’m just going to make Sweety cut out the soiled spots when he won’t cut off his finger because he’s drunk wakes up.

FYI – If you have an iPhone? A Ballistic case protects against submersion in puke! Sure, it was gross as hell to clean up for him (as he told me what a good woman I am. heh.) but at least the phone didn’t get fried.

I told him (during a brief conscious moment a bit ago) that he needs to get out of the house with his friends more. I think he was suffering from cabin fever and totally overdid it when he had the chance.

The best part? I get to wake him up at 3:30 a.m. to go to work. I fully expect to see a grown man cry.

10 Comments | In: bwahahahahaha!, husband, my brain needs bleach | | #

The party went well. Better than I expected.

The day before the party, I had my hair colored. I’d made the appointment on my way home from Texas and had planned on really putting blue streaks in it but decided to go with purple instead. I had my hair french braided right after getting it done so you couldn’t really see the color. Sweety noticed it as we were walking across a parking lot later that day. “Holy shit, it’s like I’m walking with Princess Narnia or something. That shit’s purple!”

Sweety wore his mask. When we walked up he didn’t have it on but it wasn’t hard to talk him into putting it on when he saw he would be the only person without one. And wouldn’t that be odd? Heh. I told him he could take it off after his first drink. He did. He also told me if I showed you the photo of him with the mask on that I might not have internet for much longer. So here! Sweety with his mask on his forehead!

I introduced everyone to tequila with a pickle chaser. Most of the people were skeptical that it would be good and had to be peer pressured into having the pickle. After, everyone agreed that it was the best way to drink tequila. The whole bottle was emptied and all the pickles were eaten. Great success!

Sweety found someone to talk to and I was the one who told him that it was time to go around midnight. Sweety is very animated while talking sometimes.

Here I am with the girl from work who invited me.

All in all, it was a nice evening but I will never do that again. I felt extremely uncomfortable being around a bunch of people that A) I didn’t know and B) Who were so much younger than us. I’m glad we went though because I got those kickass silver shoes out of it.

That dress?

Not the dress from the last post. (But I did wear the silver shoes. My feet hurt for two days afterwards. They looked great though!)

Have you ever bought something and said to yourself, “That’s going to fit in two weeks!”? Yeah. No. Bad.

I thought that I could lose 10 pounds and buy some sort of industrial strength titsling to bind my boobs in and I’d be able to tie that dress in the back and I’d be nice and perky above the ribbon. It just wouldn’t happen. I took the dress with me when I went to buy undergarments on Saturday (The day before the party. The best time to realize you are a walking wardrobe malfunction!). Sweety, bless his heart. I can always count on Sweety to tell me the truth. He confirmed that yes, my tits did look weird and then said he’d help me find a new dress.

I will give him credit for going into the dressing rooms with me to help zip the dresses up and not freaking out on me when I freaked out on him in the dressing room. I’m sure there’s nothing sexier than watching your wife ugly cry in her underwear because she can’t shimmy into any of the half dozen dresses that are there. (at that point, I told Sweety that I was getting ready to meltdown and we needed to go eat and then resume shopping)

When I told him my original plan of buying some sort of super-duper bra he said, “What the hell? Did you think you were going to wear your tits at earmuffs?”

8 Comments | In: husband, randomness | | #

Sweety is the far superior spouse in this relationship. He does nice things for me. He’s nice to my friends. He puts up with My Crazy. And My Crazy runs deep. To the core. He is not horrified at some of the things that fall from my lips but instead deals with it. My general laziness, quirks and odd reasoning…

He’s had a couple of moment where he lost his shit but really? Any guy that can go almost 9 years with me and only lose his shit just a couple of times has a boatload of patience.

Tomorrow is his birthday and I haven’t gotten him anything. He told me something that he wanted a couple of weeks ago and it was something that would need to be ordered online and I didn’t have any money until this weekend.

I’m going to stop and get a little something on my way home from work tomorrow and just try and be nice and pleasant for awhile.

20 Comments | In: husband, secret shame | | #

Hanging out with Sweety at the bowling alley on Friday night was pretty nice. Well, I was having a good time until this one lady showed up. Have you ever been around someone whose voice literally makes you cringe? This woman is the only person I’ve ever met that’s affected me this way. So I told Sweety we had to go right home after he was done bowling. (Usually he stays to socialize.) I just couldn’t handle her cackling. (And dammit, if you’re reading this and you bowl with Sweety – keep your yap shut. I don’t want to have to move my bloggy home or anything.) If I had to be trapped in a room with her or the coaew – I’d choose the coaew.

Later I was thinking about it and felt bad that I’d let one human being rain on my parade. If she was a regular fixture somewhere I was then I guess I’d have to get used to her. It was just easier to leave on Friday.

Sweety and I have been out of sorts with each other for a few days now. Sweety is really awesome 99% of the time. But that other 1%? Really fucking mean. I’d seen a lot of the RFM here lately and wasn’t taking it well. I can handle the RFM if it happens sporadically. But if it happens and I can remember the last time it happened? Then it’s happening too much. I know a lot of it is work related with him so I’ve been quiet and tried to ride it out. I decided that I was tired of riding it out and threw a grenade at him last night and we’ve both been doing a lot of thinking.

One of the things he said was it annoyed him that I’d come right in from work and get on the computer until bedtime. I pointed out that I didn’t come right in and get on the computer. First I cleaned all the trash, recycling and dirty dishes up from the kitchen. By the time I’m done with that and walk into the living room to see my three sloths on the couches? I’m not about to start cleaning at 8 o’clock at night while they watch me. I want to sit in the corner on my computer and melt into the couch.

Today we rationally talked through things and we will start getting along better.

Where did we have our talk? At the dentist’s office I mentioned in the post below right after I told him about my cell phone blowing up. That gave us the giggles and we were able to move on into a conversation without anybody getting all bent out of shape. And it helped that we were in public too. Don’t want to cause a scene.

14 Comments | In: grouching, husband | | #