Using a protractor

I think this whole getting used to being married thing is harder than I anticipated.

I started thinking about this at about 2:00 am last night (this morning?).

That was when I woke up cold and teetering on the edge of my bed.

See, I share my queen-sized with two others, one human, one feline. And somehow, I’m getting the fuzzy end of this lollipop.

I woke up this morning pretty cranky. I tried to tug on the blanket to cover my shivering shoulders, but to no avail, it wouldn’t budge.

So I assessed the situation. Turns out my six feet two inch husband was soundly asleep, and had arranged himself, roughly, into a right angle in our bed.

Yes, full on 90 degrees, the fulcrum of which was well over on my side of the bed. And by fulcrum, of course, I mean his big ol’ bootay shoved over that invisible line that has kept the peace in marriages for centuries.

On my side. Long limbed brotha was taking up a full three quarters of the entire bed.

And then, as if dotting the i, at the apex of the fulcrum rested our fourteen pound feline, limbs akimbo, thus taking up about half of the remaining quarter of the bed I got to inhabit.

I generally try not to disturb people when fast asleep, because I ask the same courtesy, so I tried just to make do. For about five minutes.

Then I got mad. And said aloud, “I’m taking back the night!”

Floppy cat was lifted and relocated. Good. Getting movement from the boy was going to take more thought.

So I went in for the nuzzle. The plan was, I nuzzle, and as he turns to return it, he will shift that bootay back over into the demilitarized zone.

It worked perfectly.

Then, as he turned, I tugged with all I had on the blanket, thus unloosening endless folds of blanket.

Yes. Success!

Happier with the more obtuse angle of the husband and the relocated location of the feline, I wrapped as much blanket around me as possible, dug in firmly in my space, turned my back on everyone, and went back to sleep.

You know…when I was single, I was able to flop like a starfish in the middle of my bed and sleep all night, undeterred.

I never knew a wife has to learn to be so cagy…

Something to look forward to

I believe in life it’s always important to have something you are looking forward to. Something that helps get your heinie out of bed in the morning so you can slog through another day.

A reason to prevail.

It can be just about anything. Heck, some folks are looking to the weekend. Others to seeing their kids at the end of the day. Everyday stuff is good, no doubt, but I’m talking the big stuff. The “ohmygoshIcanhardlywait” kind of stuff.

For me this year, it was about the wedding. Yeah, that was a doozy. A real big something to look forward to, and man did it deliver.

I remember walking on the beach with my fresh-out-of-the-package husband on the evening after our morning wedding, and I said to him “you know, we need to find something new to look forward to.”

He told me to shush up and enjoy our wedding day, and I did. Soon enough, though, he was saying it too, “we need a new something to look forward to.”

Well, we got one. Yup. Two weeks. Hawaii.

Bam! (said with all the Emeril flair I can muster)

I have never been and it’s almost like a fairy tale to this New Mexico kid to even think about going.

Sure, yeah, economic crisis, yipes, and all of that. But hey, I’m doing MY part for the economy.

The weather in the Bay Area is starting to turn decidedly frosty. The usually standoffish Feline has taken to cuddling *right* on up with her heat-producing humans. Blankets have come out of closets.

And in just two weeks, I’ll be where it’s 80 degrees and in an island state of mind.

Oh. Yeah.

And I’ll come back just in time to start my new job at a new company.

All that added up…not a terrible “something to look forward to.”

Strange days indeed…

Most peculiar, Mama*

If you, like me, sometimes struggle with change…well, then this is NOT our year.

I mean. Let’s start with the election. Both an African American Man and a woman on the main stage. Whoa Nellie!

The economy. Jeebus, I need a seatbelt to stay on this crazy ride!

There’s even a new profession I only just heard of in an article about this economy. A “neuroeconomist”, who studies the biology of economic behavior. Some guy from Emory University is saying we’re all acting like a bunch of scared sheep.

Not sure I disagree.

Several friends have been laid off from jobs and have had a lot of trouble finding a new gig.

Fannie Mae now (unwillingly) owns some 54,000 homes.

Some meaningful people both personally and in society have passed away.

A couple people very dear to me are seriously ill.

My 43-year old friend is preggers (naturally) for the first time.

My big brother is moving to Malaysia…This just after he and his family came through freaking Hurricane Ike.

Gas prices are through the roof. Prices unheard of thus far in our country.

Oh yeah, and for me personally I got married and am potentially changing jobs after almost a decade at one company.

2008 is not for sissies!

And we’re only nine months into this thing!

Holy crap!

If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to retire to the underside of my bed with a tubful of Cherry Garcia, a canister of Valium and my cat.

Call me when things have settled, hey?

*Borrowed liberally from John Lennon. Thanks John!

Uh oh.

I may be going to jail soon.

That is…if my new husband decides to press charges.

Maybe he won’t read this article.

Best line of the day:

“A West Virginia man who police said passed gas and fanned it toward a patrolman has been charged with battery…”

Sorry for the, uh, spousal abuse.

This one goes out…

…To the one I love.

A special post today dedicated to The Good Man.

Happy One Month Anniversary, love!

And they said it wouldn’t last…hee!

I can hardly wait to get home tonight.

Oh, to see my handsome husband, sure…

But mainly for:

CAKE!

Tonight we get to eat the top layer of that galldamn delicious and oh so heavenly wedding cake that neither one of us got to eat much of just one short month ago.

No having to beat the crush of our wedding guests. No fighting the servers to get a big slice of heaven.

Nope.

You. Me. Eight-inch diameter crème filled cake. Naughty!

Remember how pretty it was:

I personally think we should just cut that top layer down the middle, put half on one plate and half on the other and let the feeding frenzy BEGIN!

W00T!

Is is wrong I’m this excited about cake?

Well if it’s wrong, I don’t wanna be right.

Happy Anniversary Good Man!

I believe one month is the cake anniversary…right?