I didn’t make it to my personal training session on Wednesday. I’d spent the night before with a throwing up bug, which won over my throwing up phobia at least six times. At about 4 in the morning, I thought it’d be a stellar idea to sleep in the bathroom. Instead, I went back to bed and spooned with Freddy The Fuck It Bucket. Named after what I yelled out right before I spewed into it. It gave me some…
I began 2012 feeling out of sorts. We came home from a party in the dark. Left the house for dinner the next day, in the dark. Mostly about why my left ring finger was still naked. Seriously, though. I felt bad that we slept through January 1st. As I sat backwards on the bus on the way the second party of the year, I vowed not to waste another day. By the end of that week, I’d written a…
OK, so. You know where I mentioned that I made a list of things to do before I turned 30, but this blog is not about that list? I’m 31 now. And it still isn’t. However. I’ve been thinking about my life. And where it’s going. How 31 isn’t exactly what I thought it would be when I was 21. Or maybe even 25. Except for the part where I have indeed met a wonderful man who is weird in…
As I write this, there are 290 days, 23 hours and 49 minutes to go until Sarge and I stick a hyphen between our last names. Because this is an equal relationship. We have been ‘trying to save money for the wedding’ since we got engaged. Having said that, Sarge recently admitted he’d been carrying around Frodo Bob Ring-Box since before we went to New York, so maybe he’s been saving longer than that. Without taking a screen-shot of the…
