Five Years.

First it was going to be Hawaii.

Then it was going to be Australia.

Then Mexico.

Then Alaska.

Our 5th wedding anniversary was going to be the anniversary that we finally took our honeymoon.

Our big dream trip.

Instead?

We finally put sod down and a fence up in our back yard and saved up enough money for a romantic dinner at our favorite sushi restaurant.

Thanks a lot, shit bucket economy.

However, there was one thing in particular that really made our 5 year anniversary memorable.......


























The husband purchased this.

For me.

From New York.

New York is sentimental to us as a couple.

It's where we got engaged.

Right under the big Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center in Time Square.

He proposed with the perfect diamond ring. One that I don't wear very often.

Why?

Because I'm very hard on my hands.

Between washing them 9 billion times a day, weight lifting, bartending and punching things... It's best it stay on my night stand, perfect and unharmed.

No one wants soap scum, weight bar scratches or whiskey on their diamond.

However that leaves my wedding ring finger feeling very naked and noncommitted.

Husband told me I could wear this all the time and beat the hell out of it.

But to me it's almost as precious as my diamond.

It's silver. It's jaded. It's rough. It's unique.

It's perfect.



Thank you husband.

For being the most wonderful husband a girl could ever ask for.

You're brilliant, thoughtful, caring, halarious and handsome.

But more importantly you're mine.

I love you to the moon.

Forever and always.

One day we'll get our dream vacation. Until then, paradise, take your sandy beaches and mai tais and shove em!

We've got eachother.

And a fenced in back yard that we can totally fuck in.

Man-o-risms.

I kind of have male-ish tendencies.

My neighbor called me a man last week and I've been thinking about that comment off and on.

It was in reference to how I had my drink mixed.


My ratio between whiskey and sprite zero was substantially in the whiskeys favor.


But I drink whiskey because I like the taste of it, and I'd rather taste whiskey than soda.


I don't even like soda.


But If you show up to neighbor night with a huge ol' motherfuckin' quart glass of just straight whiskey, it might look like you have a problem....



Aaaaaanyway

I've been thinking about this "Man comment" lately and I've come to realize that I pretty much am a dude trapped in a curvy, pudgy, bleedy lady body.


But who says all the things I like aren't girly?


If I like them, and I'm a girl.... then all the things that make me "mannish" should really, be girly! Right?


I mean, girls can drive motorcycles and weight lift and box and golf and shoot a mean pool game and prefer going to a dive bar for a burger and beer over a nice restaurant and like going to titty bars and like shooting guns and and and....


Hello, it's fucking 2010.


Besides, I have what society would dub as "girly tendencies" too....

I own a pair of spanks.

I have like... 549 different shades of lip gloss.

And I cried during Herbie fully loaded starring Lindsay Lohan.

I don't think I can get much more girly than that folks.

Punching breakdowns in the face one by one.

My mind has been an interesting and confusing place lately.
I've been trying to think of things that have occurred that one might dub "blog worthy" but I haven't had much luck really connecting with one individual instance.

I feel like I'm in a thought propelled tornado.

I have been doing a lot of reflecting upon past events and thinking and wondering about new ones.
I'm also trying to mentally prepare myself for some changes that will be happening soon.
I've been analyzing friendships and have come to the conclusion that I have some that are completely one way.

The last few weeks have been very challenging. I feel like my emotional strength, along with my sanity have been tested in multiple ways.

At the end of the day I'd like to say that I am a truly blessed woman and I couldn't be more forturnate.

So, God.... Universe.... Alla.... Whoever or whatever may be out there.
I would like to say Thank you.

Thank you for giving me my health so that I'm physically able to work my ass off.
Thank you for the challenges you've given me over the past few weeks. It's helped me realize what a tough bitch I really am, and as much as I don't want everything that's on my plate right now, I'm strong enough to handle it. With an unlimited supply of whiskey.
Thank you for the wonderful, beautiful, amazing people you've filled my life with. They are my strength, support and relief in life.

Things are moderate right now and I'm still breathing.

If I can't appreciate that, then I'm an asshole.

If scentsy made a failure scent, I'd totally buy it.

I'm failing miserably at this blogging thing.

Sorry there haven't been any new posts. I've been way super busy with things including but not limited to:

Working
Boozing
Yarding
Camping
Friending
Running
Painting
Lifting
Reading
Regrouping
Worrying
Bartending
Cleaning

And getting plowed with a few ladies and jumping into a lake butt-ass-naked at midnight.

Life's good.
This blog isn't.

You should totally stay tuned though.

Multiple personalities.

This post is going against my blogging identity.

You see, most of the blogs I'm familiar with are used for photos and updates on what current events people are doing or going through in life.

Me?

I use this as a creative writing outlet. An online journal, if you will. A way for me to take a break and let my words express all the twisted thoughts I regularly have that I find pant-shittingly-funny. It's a place where I can be myself and if I wanna say fuck, then by god, I'm gonna say fuck.

I like to share those same funny thoughts in a very light hearted, sarcastic, twisted, and I swear to GOD a very non-homicidal way. *I really do love my husband*

I'm comfortable not knowing how many followers of this blog I have because, to be honest, I get writers fright. I worry that my stories don't flow, or my grammar isn't correct, or that I sound like a big fat douche nozzle.

All valid concerns, really.

There are a few women writers on the interwebs that I crazily stock adore. Their humor, sarcasticness and laugh out LOUD blogs really inspire me to put all of my fucked up, crazy, random, funny thoughts into this blog. I totally get them and love them. One day I hope to aspire to be just like them. Only not just like them, because copy-catters are totally annoying and need to find their own god damn identity.

I don't plan on changing my blogging style, and to tell you the truth, some of my most foul, raunchy posts are the ones that have gotten some very flattering reviews.

So, without any further blabbering, I'd like post something a little out of the ordinary, but please stay tuned for future posts filled with profanity, ideas that make you question my judgement in general and very un-lady-like humor.

Keep on keepin' on bitches.

*One of my best friends, sister, soul mate, life partner, bffers took photos for my husband and I.

We really wanted some new photos for our home, considering the last photos we have had done were our engagement pictures 5.5 years ago back when I was 30 pounds lighter and Blonde.

I couldn't be more pleased with the way these turned out. There are plenty more but my patience is wearing thin with getting these photos to format correctly. They're a little out of order, I apologise. They're all amazing, nonetheless.

None of these images could have been possible without Rebellion Photo. She did an amazing job. One she should brag about for years to come and definitely one to be proud of. Thank you so much sissy. Best birthday-month-present ever.

I love you. *

I'm anxious for the back yard to get done so I'll have some place incognito to bury the husband

Me: "So, Since you're going golfing, AGAIN, the entire next weekend, when exactly do you think we could order sod?"

Husband: "I was planning on the weekend of your birthday"

Me: "Oh, really? Huh. Yeah, That's exactly how I pictured my birthday weekend."

Husband: "I can postpone it if you'd like"

Me: "Uh no. I think we've done enough postponing for procrastinators nationwide"

Husband: "No more complaining!"

Me: "Ugh. Whatever. It will never be done. No grass. No fence. No cleaned off patio. No NOTHING EVER! Humph. This is the worst birthday month I've ever had."

Husband: "You need to stop. You're being very powdy. Plus you only get a birthday weekend. You're being over dramatic."

Me: "I just want our personal FUCKING PARADISE to be paradiseish! Is that TOO MUCH TO ASK?! AND incase you didn't notice, which I'm sure you DIDN'T. My birthday falls on a fucking TUESDAY! Which means, I get two birthday weekends, minimum."

Husband: "Patience. 2 more weeks won't kill you."

Me: "By 2, I know you mean 10. And by the way, it's spelled pouty"

Husband: "The first of August is a good time frame"

Me: "You make me want to punch things."

Husband: "I just bring you back to reality and it sucks!"

Me: "Speaking of things that suck, I won't be. Until the yard is done. Wanna know what I call that?! MOTIVATION. I'm holding you to your stupid time frames, BY THE WAY"

This is text fighting at it's greatest, people.

Now I'm googling the definition of "Fuehrer" because that was his only reply.

And what the fuck, husband? You can spell Fuehrer but not pouty?

Jesus Christ.

This week can go right back to where it came from. And it's only Tuesday.

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