Category: Love

Yipe!

Aw, who is that cute girl caught in the headlights?

That would be, you know, me.

Under 60 days out from “the big event” and my cool, calm demeanor has cracked.

Silly me to think that people to whom you pay an exorbitant amount of money would, you know, just DO their jobs.

I thought it was ridiculous when The Good Man told me early on we needed to manage these people. Nah, silly me thought. People will behave like professionals until they prove themselves otherwise.

Ah the proofs. So painfully coming in otherwise.

I think I understand how some people become Bridezillas.

I don’t want to be a Bridezilla. I want to be a Bridecoolgirl. Or Brideprettyprincess.

My work life is pretty negotiation intensive. I spend 40+ hours a week telling suppliers how much they’ve screwed up and to get their collective sh– together.

I try, oh do I try, not to do this in my personal life. Separation of church and state and all that.

Ooooh but no, they are making me get out my Incredible Procurement Hulk ninja skills.

Believe me…you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.

This is supposed to be a party. When does it get fun?

And if I hear ONE more person tell me, “Oh don’t worry! That day will be all about YOU!”…..

My personal National Holiday

June 10th, a glorious day to be celebrated.

The Good Man was born on this day.

Feliz Cumpleaños my beautiful Gemini love.

I can hardly wait to celebrate today (and every day) with you.

Special thanks to the parents of The Good Man for creating such a genuinely good man.

I’m a very lucky girl….

Come to me…

Sweet precious weekend.

Glorious, tasty two days of freedom from the shackles that bind.

I need it.

Crave it.

And yet…here I am at work. I have more meetings yet to go today. Many more. One of them will be rather ugly.

So I’m still on an uphill trudge.

But other than the weekend, I have something to keep working toward. See, last night I had a conversation with my best good friend. If you can believe it (I can’t) we celebrate twenty years of friendship this year. Mind boggling.

She makes her residence in Las Cruces and graciously offered to throw a backyard “together” for The Good Man and me and a variety of our friends. It will be a chance to catch up with my New Mexico familia and I couldn’t be MORE excited to be there.

I mean, it’s not just seeing old friends, hugging my beautiful godkids, breathing clear desert air, seeing mountains in the distance, resting, not working, but also one big reason……

I’m running about a quart low on green chile.

Observations from under the dryer

Every six weeks, I have to take the opportunity to have my grays covered by my stylist. And by grays, I don’t mean aliens. Or maybe I do. (Only my hairdresser knows my real hair color for sure!)

Once the color paste is on my head, I have to sit under the hairdryer to let it “cook”. This is about fifteen minutes of precious down time in my busy days. So while just sitting there, I take the opportunity to catch up on what they call these days, The Goss (as in, short for gossip).

My hairdresser works in a lovely, calming salon. Fun music plays and they have stacks of the most current gossip mags. Getting hairs done and riding a plane are my opportunities to catch up on People, OK! and US magazines. I also get a great chance to observe other women of the species in their element. Chemicals flying along with catty remarks.

And herewith, my observations:

1) In a section in US Magazine, stars gave their secrets to beauty. Penélope Cruz says her tip is to sleep more than nine hours a night. So when Penélope does it, it’s beauty enhancing. When I do it, I’m called “lazy”. Hmmph!

2) There is no woman, no matter how pretty she is, who doesn’t look ridiculously hag-ish when sitting there with color or bleach paste applied to her roots, plastic bag on her head and chemical fumes making her squint.

3) Angelina Jolie isn’t human. There was a picture in OK! Magazine of her walking out of some random building hand in hand with her Adonis-like boyfriend.

She is a few months away from delivering twins. Her face isn’t puffy. Her ankles are normal size. Her hair glistens. Her face is dewy fresh. No pregnancy mask, acne or wrinkles. Her tummy is sort of big, but no bigger than a woman with just one in there at late term. She isn’t pregnant from chin to ankles like many women loaded with twins look and feel.

I’m sure she’ll carry them both to term, deliver them naturally and easily and produce two more picture perfect children.

*sigh*

4) Having your head massaged when it’s being washed under warm water is a really nice thing. It makes you forget that your skin looks worse than that of a woman pregnant with twins.

5) Miley Cyrus is scandalous. Jennifer Anniston is “getting lucky”. American Idol is almost over. McDreamy thinks McSteamy has nice pecs. Ashley Simpson is probably pregnant. Tony Romo may or may not have broken up with Jessica Simpson. Ellen Degeneres is getting married. So is George Takei. The pregnant (and also not human) Jessica Alba just did. Katie Holms looks spooky. Jude Law snogged Kimberly Stewart at a club. And Kate Hudson may or may not be dating Lance Armstrong.

Phew.

All said and done, my nice little life looks pretty good. I have fresh hair, an amazing fiancée and the ability to go to the grocery in my crappy sweats without someone taking and publishing my photo.

Perspective. What a kick!

Forbidden love.

I have lust in my heart.

It’s a new lust, a fresh start.

This fascinating new thing caught my eye just less than two weeks ago when we moved into our new building. Ever since, I can’t stop thinking about our encounters.

They leave me giddy. Happy. Jittery.

I’m lovestruck baby, I must confess.

And the object of my adoration is this strong, powerful, steely beast.

What’s that, you ask?

Why, it’s a coffee machine. But not just ANY coffee machine. Not the typical office industrial device that pushes brown water out of tired dried up grounds. No.

Gaze toward the top of that lovely thing. You’ll see two plastic hoppers that contain WHOLE beans.

You select size, leaded or no, and push start and it takes beans, grinds them RIGHT THERE, and brews one delicious cup of coffee.

Now see, I’m not actually supposed to drink coffee.

For one, I can’t handle the caffeine. High blood pressure and tired adrenals and just, I can’t take the buzz.

So ok. Decaf.

I also have terrible reflux. And coffee, even decaf, is terribly acidy.
Problem is that I *love* coffee. And giving it up is difficult.

I usually limit it to on the weekends. Some decaf with breakfast or maybe an iced decaf from the local purveyor of deliciousness on a Saturday afternoon.

Last week we moved into the new office building and everyone was raving about this new coffee maker. I was like “feh!” Office coffee? No.

But when I arrived my new cubicle was not configured correctly and also my network didn’t work, so for the first hour of my day, I stood around while people fixed the problems in my workspace.

So while waiting, I toddled down the hall to try out this new thing.

When I sipped the fresh ground, fresh brewed concoction, even with the crappy dried up powder creamer they have, I was like “hey…that’s tasty!”

Tuesday, I brought in a real mug and a carton of half-n-half. Added a splash to my fresh ground love and siiiighed. So. Tasty.

I tried to keep it to a cup a day habit.

But this week slipped away from me. Suddenly I was having two in the morning. And another mid afternoon for a little “lift”. Then I was drinking a cup on my way out the door to go home.

The Good Man commented on my coffee breath, so unusual for me!

It’s probably time for rehab.

But I just…can’t. All day long I hear the distinctive clicking of my new crush. It calls to me. Beckons me to the sea of warm half-n-half sweetened love.

If loving you is wrong, I don’t want to be right.

Did I mention my crush also brews hot chocolate?

A nod to my oldest niece for the imagery of forbidden caffeinated romance. Thanks! How you drink a chai with espresso is beyond me. I’m scared to try, I might further my addiction…..:)