chilled me to the core

So, I have been thinking about you. As much as I don't want to, I have been. At this point I wish we could have remained simply a memory for one another but as far as my memories of us go, they aren't so great as to recall with any happiness.

We were terrible to one another. Horrible. Stupid. Downright Mean. Simply merciless. You were my first attempt at love and have the dubious honor of being the man who ripped the soul from my being crushing it until I was nothing and no one. I let it happen to me, I was young and in such terribly deep love -- it was a shame.

I am the proud owner of a renewed and healed soul. I was so lucky to discover what I didn't want in a man at such an early age. I am also lucky enough to have had the love of my life dropped into my heart at 19. Even more lucky to have had the ability to identify him as my soul mate and then taking my walls down long enough to let him fill my life.

He is amazing and I don't believe my own family could possibly love me more then he does. Ours is a relationship built on trust, friendship and the stuff souls are made of.

You and I were young, impetuous and stupid beyond limits. I forgive you and I hope with all my heart your life has been as blessed as mine.

Going to Aruba!

I don't get it. How can I live in the now and not think about the future and be able to plan for a vacation - that's in the future, but I'm not supposed to think about the future because I'm living for the present moment? Anyone know?

Anyway, I'm off to Aruba the end of May to celebrate ELEVEN years of being happily married to the best dang man in the... well, I could go on and on and on, but I don't want your tummy to be upset. And something this sweet will definitely cause your belly to hurt -- maybe even a toothache.

So, hopefully I'll be safe in Aruba at my beautiful resort.
No repeat of Ms. Holloway.
That's always the first thing that comes to anyone's mind when I tell them I'm going to Aruba. I'd much rather hear, "How exciting!" or "Have a great time!" how about even a, "Be safe!" but not, "Isn't that where... "
Yes. It is.

Breathe.

Live in the present.

I'm going home. Well not yet, in a minute, but that's future thinking.

Dammit!

Live in the Now

I'm back to Vegas for work on Monday and then there's another conference in Texas that - thankfully - I get to pass on! Shows really take it out of me, especially in Vegas where everyone is chain smoking cigarette, cigars and pipes like crazy. Yes, even in restaurants. *cough* *cough*

It seems every time I return from Vegas I have a cough, sore throat, upset tummy which leads to an extended illness resulting in the demise of my sinus tissue.

BUT hey, I'm basing that on what I've learned in the past and the past is done and I'm working on resolving it. So, instead of dreading this trip - I'm going to live in the now and not think about it.

Yes, that should be easy.

Going to Wyoming. Yee Haw.

Who goes to Wyoming for vacation? I guess people who aren't FROM Wyoming. ;)

So, then WHY are tickets so dang expensive? I mean, I should be able to show my Wyoming driver's license and have a free pass to return anytime I like as long as I'm not MOVING back. Right? I mean, I'm going to help the economy once I get there - that is, if I can make it to the ONE restaurant in my hometown before it closes at 8 o'clock. BUT if I miss that window of opportunity there are SEVERAL bars to choose from. Nothing like a family outing at one of many local watering-holes because you were unable to gather 10+ people, have them make a decision and then get them to the same place at the same time.

*ugh* based on past experience.
Resolve.
Live for today.

The Biggest Strawberry

...and it's shaped like a heart. I could hardly eat it, in fact, I told my husband I couldn't eat it and he said, "That's ridiculous. If you don't eat it, I'm going to eat it!"

*gasp* So, I left it in the strawberry bucket with the other berries until I got up the nerve to tackle this beautiful strawberry.

*sheesh* I can't eat meat, and now I'm having trouble eating a big gorgeous strawberry.

I am seriously f*-ed up in the head.

I can’t convince him healthy tastes good...

Ok, so ONCE, just ONCE I was disillusioned and actually thought that a dehydrated fruit bar with raw nuts tasted “just like a Snickers bar,” and you trusted me. How did I know? I hadn’t eaten an actual Snickers since high school and my memory was a bit foggy.

So, you excitedly took a bite and I watched as you slowly started to chew, taking in all the yummyness that is my favorite snack treat.

Then, you informed me that I was sorely mistaken as you spit every last merest morsel of organic energy goodness out of your mouth and quickly rinsed with your drink of choice... Diet Mountain Dew (which tastes JUST LIKE regular Mountain Dew)...

So now you won’t believe me that anything I say tastes “just like” ever tastes “just like.”

...but trust me on this one.


Guacamole and carrots tastes JUST LIKE chips and guacamole.

Yes, trust me. The carrots do much more dancing on your taste buds then that hydrogenated mess of corn could ever dream of.

Ooops. Looks like I lost you with that last bit.

I could lightly cover the carrots in olive oil, a dash of sea salt and dehydrate them for a few hours - would that help? You could enjoy this tasty treat sometime, let’s say - tomorrow!

What? Yes, I do remember the chocolate chip cookies made lovingly with protein powder, almond flour and carob chips.

You have to admit those were darn close... but I never said “JUST LIKE!”

Ummm, Is Everything Alright in Here?

That’s the question I usually ask my husband when upon walking into a room the most atrocious and repugnant smell invades my nostrils and chokes the life out of my lungs - a revolting cloud of noxious green gas. It normally happens when he thinks that I’ll be gone for a while and he can really cut loose and just be one with his lower sphincter. He usually blames it on one of our innocent 10 lb dogs. No way they could do that damage.

Well, this morning he got up at the disgusting hour of 4:30 a.m. to go on a single day road trip to California and back.

I am a light sleeper and even though I asked him to do his best not to wake me, it still happened. Even AFTER he decided to shower at 12:00 a.m. so he wouldn’t wake me with the shower at 4:30 a.m. (?)

First it’s his alarm blaring away, announcing the most devilish time - to which I jolted out of bed, grabbed my phone and began frantically pushing buttons to silence the screaming so it wouldn’t wake him up. Alas, nothing was working to return calm to the bedroom and by the time I figured out it was his phone, he had finally shut it off. For the FIRST time, and the SECOND time, oh - and the THIRD time.

Are you kidding me right now??

So, he finally gets up and he’s now tiptoeing around the room. Then into the closet where he closes the door and turns on the light. Did I mention we just had all of the doors in the entire house replaced with beautiful glass to let the light shine through? He dims it quickly and finishes up, but the damage to my retinas has already been done.

I’m still honing my acting skills and continue to “sleep” peacefully as I grab my Noodle and cuddle him closer. There’s nothing like a live little teddy bear to help one fall back to a real sleep.

Now he’s off to the kitchen where I can actually HEAR him drinking water. *gulp *gulp *gulp *AHHHHH
...and taking vitamins on his own (for the first time ever without me begging him.) *rattle *rattle *gulp *gulp

...and back into the bedroom where he continues to make little rummaging noises in the dark.

...now his phone is ringing.

The Fire Alarm ringtone.
Do you know the one??
It’s great.
Loud so he can hear it in his ’61 Buick.

LOUD, baby, LOUD.

...so he runs off down the hall to silence it after a few mind numbing rings.

I have finally had enough...

“Babe,” I ask. “Are you trying to be quiet?”

Now, I’m awake and he knows I’m awake. Time for comedy.

He enters the bedroom and triumphantly tells me, “I’m taking my vitamins,”
then asks, “Hey, Is everything alright in here?”

*sigh* “It’s not me!” I reply.

“Sure,” he jests and kisses me lovingly on the forehead. “I’m outta here! See you tonight!”

Does the colon reflorastation work on dogs, too??

Hey, When is your birthday?

I have 2 friends or so who reply with comments when I send out a personal email detailing a vacation story, a bit of humor or a friendly forward. Sometimes I spend days writing something, email it out expecting all kinds of feedback, and get nothing. Nada. Zip. Like - Zip-o-rooni. Zipper-nada.

BUT... When I ask if they can fill out a birthday reminder for me - where they actually have to GO TO another site, enter in their name, email and birthday - they do it! THIRTY-SEVEN of them so far!
I also find it amusing that no one wants to say how old they are but they REALLY want to share the day they made their escape from the uterus.

What the? I guess if there’s even the slightest chance something as minimal as an email birthday card is up for the giving on their day of birth, they are all for it!