It's a Love Thing

A few nights ago, J and I were lying in bed with our laptops: he was looking up car parts, I was drooling over hammered gold jewelry. We're so typical.

Out of nowhere, he asks if I know "It's a Love Thing" by Keith Urban. I say no, so he plays it.

Mid-way through, I asked him if he liked it.

He said it reminded him of us.

My husband is haaaandsome.

Just look at this face.

He's a ninja of attractiveness.

Bad Ass Biker

For as long as I've known J, he always said that someday he wanted a motorcycle.

His parents are big-time bikers- they are part of an association called HOG (Harley Owners Group) and his brothers both ride Harleys as well.

Basically what I'm saying is that he was like a kid on Christmas morning when his parents rolled in with his bike this weekend.

During deployment J found a great deal on a used bike and we bought it, having it shipped to his parents. J had not seen the bike in person until his parents came in on Friday, and as soon as boy and bike met, it was love at first sight.

J hasn't been on a bike in years, so we all packed up and went out to the refuge to find a deserted place for J's dad to give him a quick refresher.

J did really well. He's a natural!

After an hour or so getting his bike legs under him we got back into the truck and decided to go up to Medicine Park, this interesting biker/artisan community off the Refuge.There was this one particular store we wanted to stop by:

Hold on, let me give you a close up.

He's HOME!

And our pup feels safe again.

It's Christmas and My Birthday and Our Anniversary and...

J called me this morning and asked me to get a piece of paper and a pen.

He gave me an address and a code and told me to call him after my scavenger hunt.

That beautiful, wonderful, sweet man sent me to Best Buy.

You know what he got me?

Love love love love love!

You gotta be kiddin' me, Lifetime.

One last post tonight and I swear, I'm done.

Sunday nights, I know I'm gonna get all emotional and sloppy because Sunday nights means Army Wives and Coming Home. Army Wives I can manage, but Coming Home gets me every time.

This week, Army Wives leaves on a cliffhanger as the ladies brace themselves while two uniformed soldiers step out of a black SUV, which can only mean one of two things: MIA or KIA, two of the dirtiest acronyms ever created.

MIA: Missing in Action.
KIA: Killed in Action.

Ok, so they've already got me frantic before Coming Home even starts. The show is fine up until the preview of next week's where they're having a tribute to a fallen soldier.

KIA.

Now these two together would already freak me out because I seriously cannot handle that kind of thing. On top of it, I just sat through an MIA and KIA lecture this morning. My mother and I went to my brother's Reservist Family Day.

My little brother. Reservist. Navy corpsman attached to a Marine unit, deploying to Afghanistan as my husband makes his way home.

Salt in the wounds, Lifetime. Salt in the wounds.

Let's Talk About Bitching.

I'll be your guide through this 7th circle of Hell.

I bitch a lot. It's true, I won't deny it. I don't do it purposely, but my way of coping with anything that has my feathers in a ruffle is to run, find someone who is preferably trapped alone with me (kitchen, garage, stall in a public restroom) and pour my melodramatic heart out. Once it's officially out there and, depending on its magnitude (or how many pitchers of wine I've thrown back) I had a pathetic cry, I'm good to go. It's cathartic for me.

For those who have known me for years and have been through this nonsense, typically it goes something like this:

Me: Bitch bitch, the WORLD is ENDING! Bitch bitch bitch, are you even listening? Do you EVEN CARE ABOUT WHAT I'M TELLING YOU?!?

Them: Well what about this [insert logical explanation/choice]? That won't work? How about this one? You'll get through this!

Me: WHAT?!? Bitch bitch psychotic babbling (dramatic hand motions)

Them: Ooookay (getting frustrated) I'm sure everything will be fine.

Me: No! It won't be fine! I'm so overwhelmed I just...my heart, the stress...(clutches chest and gasps for air).

[Dies.]

End scene.


My husband is still getting used to these antics. Every time I start spinning into a a  meltdown, I can tell he starts panicking. Unfortunately, I'm so warped with my own sense of urgency I can't throw him a frickin' bone and the poor guy has to try and fight, tooth and nail, to escape the black hole in Hades in which he finds himself.

However, today, that man found the Emergency Escape Route I Never Knew I Had.

Me: Bitch bitch, TOTALLY FREAKING OUT, bitching.

Him: Maybe logic? Listening? Over the top compliments?

Me: NOO! ROOOOAbitchAAARRRR!!

Him: Hey, honey? I just sent you a link. Click on it for a second.

Me: Grrr...fine....

[Playing Puppy Video aka My Personal Heaven and Birthday Wish X 1000]

Him: Honey?

Me: Eeeeee! I love them! Look at all the little fur with their little baby feet...and

Him: (wipes forehead, sends up a quick thank-you to Jesus)

Truly, my husband is a miracle sent down to save all of you from the Heinous Bitch I Could Have Been (and Sometimes Am When Talking to Verizon's Customer Service).

Boudoir Bootcamp

I have decided.

This has nothing to do with resolutions and all that crap, because frankly, I believe resolutions are only good for breaking and then feeling guilty/euphoric.

It just happens, coincidentally, that I am now trying to get healthier.

Am I eating better? Thank you, MyPlate.

Am I working on my fitness? You bet my soon-to-be-smaller behind I am.

Right now I'm tracking my calories, sodium, protein, carbs, etc. with the SUPER easy to use MyPlate website, which basically just sets up the recommended amount/percentages and then all you have to do is put in whatever you ate and it figures it all out. So easy.

I have also been going to this gym and have decided that I want to be one of those people that actually runs on the treadmill. Now, I have always been of the opinion that running is only good if someone is running after you (see: freeze tag or serial killers).

I read this magazine article (Shape? Women's Health? Cosmo?) a hundred years ago and apparently it finally got through to me now. Basically, it said that if you want to start running, all you have to do is add one minute per day. In 30 days, you'll be able to run 30 minutes! So far I've been kinda doing that, so now I'm up to 15 minutes of half-assed jogging. However, I feel pretty good about it.

Ok, now, the reasons behind this.

A) I want to be healthier and feel better in my body.
B) I will be turning 26 soon and I figure I only have a few more years before I'm no longer in my prime.
C) My husband will be coming home at some point and I'd like to have him running towards, not away from, me.

and...

D) I am getting boudoir photos done in March.

(Um, clearly that is not me. I would be photoshop's b*tch.)

Before you judge (and it's fine, I totally would, too, but then I'd be all secretly jealous and it would turn into a world of psychological melodrama) J asked for them! He was kinda joking/kinda serious, but I'm thinking he was only joking to see my reaction.

Won't he be surprised when he finds that his good, "respectable" (his words, there) wife is sending him outlandishly inappropriate photos?

HA HAH HAH HAHA HA.

Happy 1 Year Anniversary, honey!

R&R

Well, I completely fell off the planet there! I have no regrets though- I was in perfect marital bliss.

I just got to see my husband for 2 weeks! And I love him, and it was amazing, and the dog was so excited, and I love him, and...

It was amazing. All the worrying and freaking out was completely worth it, because I got to

see him, but not only that, somehow all my plans actually came together and I got to surprise him with a few things!

So the first night I got a hotel for us right on the water close to the city, so we didn't have a big trip coming from the airport and, since he's been stuck in a very hot and dry desert, I thought

he would like to see the water.

(This was the view from outside our little inn!)

It was just so good to actually see him. I know that I love him all the time, but to actually see him in person and touch him and hear him say all his crazy things- love just hits me like a ton of bricks.

Ok, so then the next night we went back to my parents' house and he got to see our little pup Q:

I don't know if you can tell from the photo, but that little dog's paws are barely touching the ground he's so excited!

And then...the BIG surprise.

I'm talking, pack your bags, this is something that had to have been blessed by the grace of God because I really don't know how this actually got pulled together so perfectly, BIG surprise...

Me: "So hun, where was it that you said that you always wanted to go again?"

Him: (wild-eyed) "Baby, where are we going?"

Me: "Where did you say you wanted to go?"

Him: (child-going-to-Disney-face) "Where are we going?!"

Me: "Where did you say?"

Him: "Oh my God. Are we...are we going to the Caribbean?!"

Yes! I love giving surprise gifts, and his excited reaction was adorable!

So my husband has never been, and he had said it in this "one day when we're rich we'll go" kind of way...but I really wanted something nice for him while he got a break. The major issue was (besides the money, obviously) was the fact that he does not have an available passport. HOWEVER, as PUERTO RICO is a US TERRITORY, you don't need one!

YES! And it is amazing. Absolutely so romantic, best vacation ever.

Our hotel room at the Marriott was beautiful, and the view...

absolute perfection.

So of course we got into a plush little hotel robes and immediately took glamor shots!