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?”

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.

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.

For some reason, I do not find her very threatening. He’s going to have to get her a grenade or something if he wants me to jump.

And here he is at the bowling alley with his snazzy shirt on. Heh.

I had it up on Facebook and when he saw the comment thread he asked me to take it down. He says he doesn’t mind being here but doesn’t like people talking about him on FB where I’m “friends” with people that he sees in person.

Please send me your thoughtbeams tomorrow. A friend and I are going to try out for Wheel of Fortune. I plan on getting picked, winning lots of loot and then quitting my job. I don’t have a plan B so I will be crushed if this doesn’t pan out. I’d thought they’d let you know right away if you were picked and told my friend that I was going to fling myself from her speeding car on the way home if I wasn’t chosen. She then advised me that they send you a letter. I will be haunting the mailbox.

Sweety bowls Friday night. He just announced, “In 72 hours? I’m going to be drunk!” I chime in with, “Me too!”

No, you’re going to be on a diet. You won’t get to drink.

I’ll drink Jack Daniel’s and Diet Coke!

Do you know what that is? CALORIES! How about you have a Jack Daniel’s enema? I’ll take a swig and then blow it into your ass.

He then pantomimed the position I would assume and the angle at which he would hold his head.

The scary part? I think he was serious.

In other news, he just ate a family sized sack of Cheetos.

I hate his metabolism. Fuck you, Sweety’s metabolism. Of course, I harbor NOOOOOO ill will towards him for sitting here and eating that whole fucking sack.

They are never going to love me like they do their parents and it’s making me tired to try and be a supermom when I’m not super or a mom. I’ve spent 8 years going out of my way to be at every game and chaperon every field trip that they needed me on.

I have discovered something more embarrassing than telling a man that you love him and he says nothing – saying it to your stepsons and they say nothing. I know they can squeak it out. I hear them tell their parents all of the time. I used to tell them that I loved them when I tucked them in at night and they never said it back so I quit saying it. A few weeks ago, I thought that was no reason to not tell them since I do. But since it’s just followed with awkward silence – I give up. I know the boys love me but it’s frustrating that I put forth as much effort in all around raising them as their mother or Sweety and I’m not the same.

Last Saturday, for the first time ever – I didn’t go to a baseball game when I would have been able to. I had company and I just really wasn’t relishing the idea of sitting at the game for 3 hours with the coaew a stone’s throw away. And the world didn’t end. The boys didn’t even wonder where I was.

This weekend’s game is going to be a dramafest. They play about an hour away and they have a wedding to be in on their stepfather’s side of the family that evening. After the game, Sweety has to meet the coaew somewhere with the boys. I know what the day will be like.

They’ll get beat in the baseball game. Sweety will be annoyed. The boys will be pissy. The coaew will be calling or texting constantly trying to find out where they are. I will be pissed off that we’re having to take them to meet her because she didn’t come to the game. It’s her time with them. Yes, she has a wedding that night but if they have time to go to the game then why the fuck can’t she take them?

So I told Sweety I didn’t want to go. I have absolutely no desire to even be around the aggravation that will ensue if the game runs into overtime or Sweety can’t meet her at the appointed time. Or if he shows up at the meeting place and she isn’t there yet.

He said that he’d like for me to go but understands why I don’t want to. And guess what? I’m not having any anxiety about this Saturday since I’m avoiding it. If I was going, I’d spend all week dreading it.

I also told Sweety that I probably won’t be going to their games if he isn’t there. I’m uncomfortable being around the coaew and even more so if Sweety isn’t around to talk to.

That flaming twatwad called him this weekend to ask what size pants did BB wear because she needed to buy him dress pants for the wedding. It wouldn’t have been so bad but BB was at her house. On the couch. Watching t.v. He didn’t want to miss the football game on t.v. to go shopping so she was calling for his pants size. WTF? How hard is it to either A) Tell him to get his ass up because he as to go or B) See what size pants are on his ass? Gah. Sweety let the call go to voicemail and didn’t bother calling back.

Maybe the next time she calls crying about money problems – he can tell her to talk to her husband about a mortgage bond. It’s nice that she’s never had a pot to piss in but always manages to hook up with someone who does.

Basically, I’ve decided if something extracurricular is going to stress me the hell out or make me want to cry then I’m not doing it.

He can always make me laugh. And he laughs at me. Sometimes at some damned inappropriate stuff that I spout off just to get a reaction.

He is a fantastic father. Always has gone out of his way to make sure the boys got to play whatever sport or extracurricular activity that they are interested in. When they don’t want to – he doesn’t force it on them. (I must admit that I was secretly thrilled when LB decided to sit out a baseball season. Just that much less running to practices and games.)

There is nothing he can’t do. For real. He keeps the cars maintained, the lawn done, the pool in order and any kind of household repair or remodel that pops up is no problem. He asked my Mom to teach him how to make kimchi so he could make it for me.

He puts up with the crazy that is me. I know that I can be a handful. I totally appreciate that he hasn’t kicked me to the curb after some of the things I have done or said. Sometimes, I am a lunatic.

He writes awesome love letters. I still find them stuck in my purse or in the front seat of my car.

I adore him.

I love that she’s just a blur in the last photo because she couldn’t get away fast enough. She’s got some sharp toenails as you can tell from the expression on Sweety’s face.

I’ll see you all again in a week or so. After we leave here tomorrow, I’ll be without internet service. It will do me good to be off of the grid for awhile.

After Sweety finishes one, he’ll throw it across the room and Tiny Dog will rocket to it & spend all night trying to crack it open to get to the few drops left inside. When she was presented with a bottle that actually had stuff in it, she almost lost her mind.

Sweety does let loose with some cursing. He’d had a bit to drink and I had already chased him around the house while wielding Tiny as a weapon. So he was a little jumpy around her.

Here’s the link if you don’t see the video.

We spent a little over an hour, sweating our asses off, looking at the fort. Very neat. Then we went to Ripley’s Believe It Or Not! I love those places. I’m such a sucker. Then we walked all over downtown Saint Augustine. And then? Then I was able to follow my new leader, The GPS, as it led me home. Wonderful!

We got the GPS since I’m driving the boys and my niece to Oklahoma this summer for our vacation. I’ll leave a couple of days before Sweety is flying out and then will pick him up from the airport. We’re going to stop in Alabama and do some sight-seeing there on our way. And I know I’ve mentioned it already, but TINY DOG WILL BE WITH ME! IN BED! WITH ME! FOR TWO WEEKS!

Do you know what’s second best to hotel sex? Sleeping with Tiny Dog in a hotel. I can’t wait. Sweety is going to read this, become even more jealous of Tiny and off her before vacation. I can see it happening.

Do you know what makes me want to have hotel sex at home?

Sweety washing Stinky Dog for me. You really have no idea what a turn on it is.

Stinky isn’t so excited when the bathing is going on but she reaps benefits later. She’s easier to love when she isn’t oily. Um, don’t ask why the flashlight is in the background. I’m not sure exactly what Sweety does when he’s washing her. I just know that she’s clean when she walks out of the bathroom.

Oh! If you haven’t voted for this photo, please give it a tap!

Let me share something with you. I finished those damn Twilight books. I didn’t want to like them. The first two didn’t really excite me but book three got under my skin. Went out and got the last book and read it in one 5 hour sitting. Because I had to know how it ended before I could go to sleep. I am so glad that I’m done with them. And for the record, I am Team Jacob. I have had dreams of having little werewolfy babies. I can’t believe that I’m admitting that.