Lonesome

I almost had a bonfire tonight.  Then I realized that I can't picture sitting around a bonfire by myself.  (First of all:  painful to attempt that.)

I miss my B.  I want that house he's looking at, the one with the giant yard, where Huck could run free while we had a bonfire and talked.  Where I could grow an enormous garden, or maybe have the same amount of vegetables, spread out so that I'm not growing a jungle.  Maybe we could get a goat?  Probably not a goat.  I think it's just the knowlege that we could have a goat that I like about that place.  You think that if they allow a goat, they'd allow chickens, right?  Maybe a couple of chickens.  (Whenever I think about my desire for chickens, I think of this bookwhich, by the way, is a very good book.)

This is pretty much a stream-of-consciousness post, and my consciousness is being interrupted by the fireworks, so I'll leave you to your day.  Carry on, and all that.  

On My Mind

On my to-do list

In my yard

Bruce and I discussed bringing another soul into the family (forgive me, I just rewatched the first season of Big Love), and we decided we're ready for it. A kitten is just what the doctor ordered. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on your POV), there always seem to be kittens in need of a good home. Lisa's mom's cat just had a litter (today!) and as soon as they're big enough, I'll get to take my favorite home to meet the Linus. Fingers crossed that the Linus won't mind too much.

I was turning off the lights and double-checking the locks tonight before I came in to write this, and I was amazed all of a sudden at how completely happy I really am. Sure, some things could be better. Bruce could be here, the house could be clean, what have you, but those things don't really matter very much in the long run.

Bruce is gone because it's a fantastic opportunity for him to do what he's been working towards for years now, for great pay and benefits. He's not away all of the time, and the time he is away he's getting to spend time with his best friend whom he's seen far too little of in the past year. He was stagnant working from home all the time. The work he's doing, will get to do with his new job is exciting. I love to hear him excited. The house? I'll clean it later.

I'm very happy. I love my husband more every day, whether he's here or in Missouri. I have a wonderful family, most of whom I love very much. I'm going to be an aunt at the end of the summer. There's a Mr. and Mrs. Mallard Duck who eat corn under my feeder almost every day. In a few weeks, they might bring their babies by. My brother is coming to visit this weekend. I have curtains on my windows. The birds like my yard, and for that matter, so do the bunnies. My neighbors are nice, and they crack jokes at me when I'm in the yard. I have a garden that is growing green things to my great surprise. I have a warm cat on my lap and a dog who will be very excited that it's bedtime in a few minutes. My family is healthy and strong. My life is good, and I am a full person.

Home Alone

Without the aftershave. That's right, I'm home alone, and will be for the next little while. (Two weeks? Knowing would make it a little easier, that's for sure.)

I'm going to try to stay sane, find things to do, read lots of books, garden and maybe get a new kitten. How's that for keeping busy?

Yesterday Bruce and I had to drive to Green Bay to pick up his Greyhound ticket (yes, he went Greyhound). On the drive back home, I begged him to go to the cheese factory. We came up a little short on it, because I didn't know it was coming up, and we didn't make the turn. I was sad. Bruce said, "You do know I'm coming back, right? I promise I'm coming back."

Of course I cried. How come that guy knows what I'm thinking even when I don't?

Thursday Evening

I had a few glasses of beer and spilled my love all over the internet. I don't remember exactly all of the places I commented, but I did it a lot. I hope they appreciate my giant (open-mouth) kisses.

I'm very sure that Bruce won't be using his time in another state to create a second family.

He had to drive to Chicago today to meet someone who's offering him a job. It should be good. I'm crossing my fingers.

Opportunities

My husband is abounding with opportunities today, and it's making me feel pretty good, good for him, for sure. This is definitely the beginning of something spectacular. Spectacularly good, that is. There might be a rental car involved. I'm pretty sure that we might end up dividing our weeks between I and our best friend, Cam. I'm hoping that eases some of the heart-hurt my honey has been feeling since moving. I know it will. I'm happy.

What will I do when he's gone? Perhaps I will Candle-Party - I did surprisingly well with the one I did, I got more than any other candle-party person she's helped. It was pretty damned cool. I got so much freaking stuff. If you ever want any candle party stuff, please, come to me first. It was a huge ego-boost.

Maybe I'll just landscape my yard and cross my fingers that B isn't having a second family on the side, the 1/2 time he's spending in Missouri. I did get a promise out of him, but we all know that sometimes that isn't enough. I love my husband, and I know it's enough, but I feel I need an extra promise, you know? I just want him to be happy. And you know what? Being away 1/2 the time might be good for us, too. After all, we met at away 100% of the time, and were fantastically attracted to each other. We'll probably be ON FIRE when we're seperated. It's how we roll. What am I worried about? Not much, actually. I love Bruce.

Surgery

Tomorrow, I'm going to accompany my parents while my dad has surgery on his rotator cuff. I'm nervous for the usual surgery reasons, but also because a few years ago Dad had a stroke and he's been on Plavix (blood thinner) and baby aspirin (blood thinner) ever since, and he was instructed earlier in the week to stop taking both of those medications. I didn't know that and like a fool, kept asking him to do things for me.

Case in point: Last week, I mentioned to Dad that it'd be a good time to see what's wrong with my car, because something has been wrong with it since before we spent extra to tow it from Missouri to Wisconsin. He took a look, and now we're almost sure it can be narrowed down to one of six things we originally thoiught might be the problem with it.  We'll know for sure when someone else gives it a look. Turns out, I might have very well been right in my first assessment, a year ago: Damn, the car's broken. It might not be worth it to fix it.

After Dad dropped off all of the dirt and the trailer it came on, Bruce unloaded it, despite screaming back-muscles.  How fantastic is my husband?  More fantastic than is easily explainable.  He's inexplicable.  I'm so lucky.

Happy Birthday!

Bruce turned the big two-seven yesterday. He says it feels like the big two-six did, so *phew*. That's a relief.

When I woke up yesterday, I rolled right on over to give him his birthday morning kiss, and this lovely exchange took place:

Me: Happy Birthday, Baby! How do you feel?

Him: Like I did yesterday.*

Me: Well, that's good. [kisses him] There. I think you're the oldest man I've ever kissed.

...

Me: Well, actually, that's not true at all.

Him: ...

Me: Sorry 'bout that. That was a lie.

I Don't Know How I Ever Became Married, if This is How I Am

I've got this problem where, if someone is telling me a story and I think something funny in my head, it will come out of my mouth. At times I can contain it, like when I'm at work. It takes a lot of effort, so usually the people I'm pretty comfortable with get to bear the brunt of it. Like, for instance, Bruce said before we got married that he definitely doesn't ever want to be divorced, so I'm pretty safe annoying him, and he gets to be annoyed by me all the time. There was an excellent example tonight:

Bruce: So, I was reading this thing on Google about how, you know how there's the speed of light and the speed of sound, right? Well, scientists just found there's a sp-

Me: A SPEED OF TASTE!!! [cackles hysterically]

Bruce: [not amused]No.

-----

Actually, if you're interested, apparently there's a new speed of sound, one that's even faster than the speed of light. Speed of sound, v. 1.2. "Now faster than ever before!"

Snore

This might sound funny, but the reason I'm avoiding going to sleep right now is because my lover and husband, Bruce, is snoring on the couch as I type.

Easiest Moving Day Ever

I'm going to be using today as a model for every move I make for the rest of my life. If you want to have the easiest moving day ever, you should follow these steps:

1. Find a house on one day, sign the lease the following day. Take special care to make sure you don't have enough time before moving day to ask off from work.

2. Work during the hours that your move is taking place.


On second thought, I'm pretty sure I won't be able to duplicate this. Thank you, Bruce, for moving our entire life in less than five hours.

Two for One

Hurr-y, hurr-y, hurr-y. You too can participate in the special poor-friendly-girl discount at the dentist in Green Bay, earing you the best deal in town: Get one tooth pulled, look sad and almost cry but be super "brave", get second tooth (preferrably wisdom) pulled free!

I'm a little vicodin-ey right now, but seeings as I want to have Jessica set up Wordpress for me for free, I have to post a post every day this month. I don't believe that "not being high on painkillers" was a rule. Luckily, neither was, "Make complete sense and use proper grammar."

Hopefully tomorrow things will be clearer.

Bruce has been amazing. Not only did he help me drop off Huck at the vet's yesterday, help me pick him up today, and drive me to Green Bay to have my tooth/teeth pulled this afternoon, but he's been doing it all with me being a total PMS bitch. Bruce, you are amazing and I love you.

Love, Vicodin Girl

PS: Huck is doing just fine. He will continue to do fine, so long as we can wrastle him to the ground and convince him that he's HAD SURGERY ON HIS BALLS, MAYBE HE SHOULD NOT BE RUNNING AROUND LIKE A CRAZY PERSON.

PPS: I am laughing, laughing. I just realized we got a two-for-one deal on his surgery, too.

Lots of Stuff

First off, embarassingly enough, I don't have the slightest idea what Susan's word "teh" means. It's definition is probably in her archives somewhere, else it's a bit of pop culture I have secluded myself away from, but all the same - I don't know what it means. I get the general meaning, teh = tre, or or very, or muchly, but I don't know the specifics. Susan, care to lend me a hand?

Secondly, I have done the impossible in the past week - I've finished off two pairs of socks that were languishing on the needles. Care to see? I thought you might.

The first pair is a triumph of mine. It's a beautiful yarn that knits up to the most delicious tweed. It's my second pair of completed socks, and the first pair I'm completely happy with, largely because I altered the amount of ribbing after almost completing the second sock. I'd known for a while that the ribbing on the first was a little excessive, but I had decided to "go with the flow" with the first. I chose to start the ribbing much before I needed to, and it resulted in an almost ridiculous three inches of trim at the top.

I had knit two socks before this one, but they had been top-down socks - this was my first try at a toe-up sock. I chose toe-up mainly because I wanted to use as much of the yarn as I could, because I think it's beautiful. As I was new to the knitting game when I knit it, I wasn't sure how much yarn I needed for any length of knitting, and I started ribbing too soon. When I got to the end of the second sock, I stopped the ribbing after an inch or two, deciding to edit the first sock to match. It turned out beautifully, although I may go back at some point and change the binding-off method. I used a simple bind-off, not one of the looser one's I've learned since beginning to knit.

The second sock is my real triumph, however. These socks are exactly what I want in a sock - not too long (long socks annoy my warm-blooded self) and with the right amount of jazz. They're Jaywalkers, and the pattern is really fantastic with self-striping yarn. I have a pair of Jaywalkers already (the first completed pair of socks I knitted), but these are really much more my style. I love the stripes, the colors, the ankle-high-ness. They're perfect. I even love the pictures I took of them - one self-portrait, and one self-portrait with the dog's whiskers in the corner.

Thirdly, we finished Angel this week. Yes, the full five seasons have been borrowed through Netflix, and I'm pretty sure Bruce is never going to recover. Even though it took 128 pictures to accurately describe his sadness at finishing the series. He loves him some Angel. I'm not as enamored of it as I am with Buffy, but it's hard to beat a Joss Whedon series no matter what it is.

Here are a few shots of Bruce cracking up when I asked him to show me his "Sad Face":





And then an actual picture of the Sad Face, the Sad Face that can be when you don't yell out "SAD FACE!" in the middle of trying to take a picture of it. Bruce is such a wonderful happy man that Sad Face doesn't come very easily to him, and you have to be sensitive to that and give him time to think about something depressing, like puppies dying or There is No Santa Claus, or perhaps the end of the television series, "Angel", for him to make the sad face.



And you know what? That's the best thing about him, the fact that it's so very easy to make him laugh, and that his saddest moments are his favorite series going off the air. He can be cheered up by a simple visit to a cheap chinese buffet, and his parents raised him to be completely independant and not afraid of anything (except for a television series ending). He loves life, and the very simplest things make him exceedingly happy. That's why he's perfect for me.

Lastly, our great friend Cam is coming to visit us in the beginning of November. I'm very excited for this, and I hope everything goes smoothly for his visit.

Happy Birthday to Me

So far our plan is to wait for Todd to get off of work (either four, five, or six o'clock, we're not entirely sure) and then go to the View, where I will get free drinks. Free drinks!

Last night I got free drinks, too, but that's cause this one guy at the bar thought I was pretty and needed beers bought for me on my Birthday Eve. He was nice, and although I don't think he was too thrilled by the idea of hanging out with my husband and I, I did offer. I'm not sure he was looking for a new best friend, but it's the thought that counts, right?

Considering the amount of Free Beer (not to mention the dollar beers) I drank last night, the thought of tonight's Free Beer is making me slightly ill. Now that I'm old (26, for those of you keeping track) I can't be doing the go-out-every-night-of-the-week thing. Nor the start-drinking-before-you-stop-being-drunk-from-the-night-before thing. That one's hard to master, and I think that after you let it go, it's gone for good. But poor Bruce hasn't been away from the house for any extended period of time in over a week, and I think he needs the fresh air.

And hey, Free Drinks! Who would turn that down?

Conversation

"Do you smell poop? I smell poop. The dog's on the bed. Was it you? I don't see any poop. Did you poop? Is that what I'm smelling? Did you poop, or was it the dog? Tell me the truth, so I can look for it. Help me find the poop"

Crazy Fun

Bruce is supposed to be at work at 8:30, and it takes him about 20 minutes to get into town. Bruce likes to get up at 6:45 and sit at the computer until after 8:00, when he takes his shower and then runs around the house with his arms flailing above his head asking me stupid questions like, "Where are all my shirts? I swear I had more shirts. Where did I put my shorts? No, not those green ones, the OTHER green ones?" while I'm trying to sleep. It's a good time.