Recording life's stumbles, mishaps, and the hilarity of it all. If you can't laugh, what else is left?
I had a new idea for the blog as I was typing the last post and listening to my seemingly endless Playlist.com playlist. Each week, maybe even more than once a week if it’s a particularly eventful one. I am know to have those :D I am going to post a song and artist that reflects my week. I hope you enjoy it, and I introduce you to new experiences or styles that you weren’t too familiar with.
This week: “Life Is Beautiful” -Sixx AM & “It’s Not My Time” -Three Doors Down
and it hasn’t changed…
I will never be able to look at my touristy hometown the same ever again. I won’t ever drive by a cemetary with that cool displaced sympathy, or see a funeral procession and get angry about the traffic it caused. Flower arrangements make me go quiet, and churches put a lump in my throat. And, I won’t be eating chicken ever again.
My father passed away early Saturday morning, and I swear if I hear one more estranged family or friend say “I’m so sorry for your loss” I think I may scream. An unspoken truce was given between me and me two sisters as soon as I arrived at the hospital Friday evening, still wearing the clothes I left Greece in. It turns out that my father had been hospitalized the previous Saturday because of another one of his foggy episodes and had never regained consciousness. His liver was failing completely, he had fluid in his lungs, and his pancreas was following the liver’s lead.
I had no clothes, so with the wonderful Scott’s help and a camera phone, he brought me several outfits that fit the part of youngest daughter that I had to play… even though (and I don’t mean to brag *brushes fingernails against shoulder*) my clothes were of better quality. I felt like such an outsider; One who was standing there smiling at strangers and people I hadn’t seen in forever exclaiming, “You’re so tall!” “I haven’t seen you since you were This tall” and My VERY Favorite “glad to see you grew out of that awkward phase and into your lady parts!” I had to force a smile and remind myself I was in a church in order to not pull some hair or cuss like a sailor. I have very little patience for people who don’t talk to you or visit until there’s a marriage, a birth, or a death.
piece of advice: if you’re taking food to a mourning family or friend… don’t take chicken of any kind. Take entres or dessert- alcohol would’ve been nice too
Like I told Scott when we were leaving the gravesite to go back to my sister’s house for lunch, I miss him yeah, but he’s been sick for so long and it’s been so long since I’ve seen him that it is not this huge tragedy to me. If he had been healthy and happy and then was killed in some kind of accident then I would probably be devastated, but my sisters didn’t have to take care of him because they were already married and living on their own when he first got sick. They didn’t live in the downward spiral. I think that’s why I stayed up North after I finished college to start my business. I cried a few times for a short minute, but nothing like the other family members. If they think I’m cold and don’t care then they can confront me about it because I’ve been in the mood to argue with my sisters for months now.
But that story is for an entire post unto itself. We all act like we’re teenagers again and fight like cats and dogs if we’re together for more than a few hours. That’s why the unspoken truce was needed.
I’m back home finally though, and it’s been raining. I love rain when I’m in a bad mood. It’s like Mother Nature is sympathizing with me and plans to make everyone as miserable as I am. I’m supposed to go back to work tomorrow since Jesse has left a couple of frantic messages on my phone and email in the past few hours.
I just don’t have the energy or the feeling to go order stock, pay everybody, and get back into my routine of work and worry. Scott needs to get a new job, so I can sell the store and live off his money. Did you know he has a trust fund from his grandmother that he puts in a savings account rather than live off it?! I sure didn’t! Until he told me where he got some of the money for our vacation that is. Looks like I caught me a rich one anyway lol
I’m off to lay in the bed and stare at my tan, which feels like ages ago. How I wish to be back on that boat again, happy, care-free, and with my lovey.
Have you seen my land-legs, cause I haven’t found them yet and have been stumbling all over the place?!
This week has probably been the best and worst in my life. We almost missed our flight on Sunday, our yacht sailed into the tiny little harbor (one dock and some small fishing boats tied to it) over four hours late. However, once we had our supplies and were in the luxory home-at-sea, it was smooth sailing. I changed into my black bikini and then promptly slipped and busted my ass when Scott looked over at me and swerved the boat. I’m still sporting a bruised buttcheek.
I’m betting you would love to see pictures of Scott and me soaking up the sun and the beautiful village we used as our homeport, but around Thursday evening, when Scott and I were on our way back to the boat from a day trip into Thessaloniki that became a night life experience, I stumbled and my camera was lost to the depths. I was yelling, mostly at myself, and Scott just barely managed to restrain me from diving after the precious Kodak memories. He told me that as drunk as I was that I probably would’ve drowned.
The whole thing was great. Great waters, wonderful views, heavenly food, and oh! the people. If it weren’t for Rick Steves and myself, along with this wonderful merchant’s son (Greek God descendant I tell ya), we wouldn’t have survived. I’m tanner and was more relaxed than I have ever been in my life, and Scott… well let’s just say that he’s more than satisfied and has agreed to not complain about money anymore. Other than that one day in the city and short stops for food and gas, we spent the entire trip on the yacht. Whether it was trying to fish, swim until we were ready to pass out, or just stay in the master cabin and enjoy each other’s company 
, that was the best planned, and the most fun, disaster ever. I’m pretty sure that’s what Scott’s and my life together will be. Planned disasters lol
The trip was cut short on Friday though, and we took the nearest flight back into Atlanta, hearts and suitcases full. If only you could see the things I found in Thessaloniki! However, I adamantly refuse to ruin a good blog post with sadness, so it will be next time when I know more.
Here lies a memorial for those moments that have been lost in the line of duty. Lady Sea can be so beautiful… and so cruel to technology
note to self: never fall in love with someone who hates spending money
Scott and I have been arguing for the past week practically over my monetary habits. With the vacation knocking on our door, we’ve both been stressed trying to get our jobs set up to survive in our absence. He’s been coming home with his already short hair pulled into stress-induced spikes, grabbing a couple of beers, and hunkering down in his chair with his laptop and notepad. I’ve been balancing the booking, I’m setting stuff up to be able to pay everybody this Friday rather than the usual next Tuesday (Damn! that’s gonna screw up the whole bi-weekly routine i have), teaching Jesse things about the store’s shipping, restocking, “special customers”, etc in order for her not to do the hair-pully, very scarey, stress thing that Scott’s been doing.
All this has come together to stir up some monumental fights in Hermitsville. He’s get pissed that I’ve been buying him clothes and stuff for the trip. I get pissed because he’s acting bitchy, and so on and so forth. I hate, absolutely hate fighting, shouting, yelling, and any other negative confrontation of the sort, but I go there when I deem it worth it. Scott is worth it.
After I prove him a little wrong, or he gets his point across in the loudest way possible and I get loud back at him, he throws himself into his chair and stares at either his computer screen or the tv, pouting like a little boy. No matter how angry I am, this cools me down instantly; he’s just so sexy when he broods/pouts that I can’t resist getting him riled up in a very different manner.
Which is the reason I’ve been going to sleep on my long lunch breaks and my eyes feel crusty and dry. He came home this evening having left all of his stuff at work “by accident,” and we both laid down, going to sleep at around 6:30. Of course, I woke up about 2 hours ago starving, so I woke him up, and we ate bagged salad poured into a big bowl with leftover chicken cut up and tossed in, chopped up baby carrots, and Italian dressing. We fork-dueled over the last piece of chicken, which he won (the booger), and our play-fighting turned into some very good makeup sex. Good God, I cannot get enough of this man! I told him so, and he laughed, saying, “You better not because I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re stuck with me.” Yay, I say. Wouldn’t want to be stuck with anyone else.
Whoever said makeup sex is better than any other sex is stupid, but they may be onto something in their own perverted, too-much-time-on-their-hands, way.
Yay, I say.
I love rhyming! I can never get it right when I talk, but it seems that I’m a regular doctor seuss when I write/type 
With my “womanly wiles” as Scott likes to call it, I was able to talk him into renting a boat with me and sailing around the Greek coast for a week. That means a entire week of nothing but me, Scott, and the open Aegean Sea!! I’ve been breaking out in random dancing for the past two days because I’m so excited! The money I made off of my car is going towards plane tickets, supplies, and “dinner when we get tired of floating” per Scott’s two-cents. Plus, I’m going shopping while he is at work today. Scooter doesn’t understand that he can’t wear jeans, ragged shorts, and running clothes while we are IN GREECE, and his suits are not leaving his closet, so the man needs swimming trunks, shorts, t-shirts, flip flops, and he’s making me buy us each a pair of water shoes. He’s so adorable when he acts all worried and OCD-like.
Here’s a picture of what the boat kind of looks like (it’s HUGE!!!)
Do you know how hard it is to try to rent a boat without a crew being included?! Makes me want to drink heavily. lol
I finally showed him the black bathing suit I bought at Victoria’s Secret (see You Can’t Put A Price On Everything) We had to order take-out because I “made” him burn dinner with my “irresistible tempations.” Mwahahaha… It’s all peaceful and playful at the apartment now that Skinny Me is gone. Scott seemed a little tense when she was here. I guess part of it was that he didn’t have his own space anymore.
I will be gone the week of June 22 on my fabulous vacation. I’ll have my laptop with me and my camera, so expect lots of pictures!! Jesse is gonna have a panic attack when I tell her that she is charge of the store while I’m gone.
*does the cabbage patch and a quick little jig* AH! I haven’t been boating since I was little. I just can’t wait; I’ve already started packing my suitcase, which is kind of depressing when you realize how little room you have. However, Scott told me not to bring a lot of clothes *wink wink* (get your mind out of the gutter lol) because we are going to spend the majority of that week in the water. Oh god, I just remembered that I have no sunscreen! My skin of irish-origin would be like an egg on hot asphalt. One last thought before I go back to work, I have got to get one of those Greek language guides from the back of the store. Rick Steves’ books are the best out of any that I’ve skimmed in my boredom. They not only give you helpful tips in the country’s culture and way of doing things, but they also have very common phrases and even curse words, which is really fun for a road rager such as myself. Nobody messes with you when you call them a bastard or a a$$hole in two or more different languages.
No, I do not like green eggs and ham, Sam I am.
Ever written down the word banana and kept going? Yeah, that’s me. Writing it is bad enough, but have you ever not stopped while saying this accursed word?
I went out with Halley and Bella last night. They berated me for not calling or stopping by, and the fact that they only know what’s going on in my life by reading the blog. Then we shared a laugh and all was right again.
Bella is freakin’ huge!… Well, compared to how skinny she was before (damn her and her athletic build. lol) Her doctor made her gain weight because he was afraid of her becoming anemic or the baby not getting enough nutrition. When I asked her if she knew what the gender was, she grinned and refused to tell me.
I filled them in on Skinny Me and her bag of issues. I thought Halley was going to permanently become a lovely shade of red as she laughed. Bella just smiled, but I knew she had had such problems in the past, so college antics and youngster angst is not really as hilarious to her as it is to such extreme cynics/loud-mouths as Halley and myself.
The three of us ate a fabulous dinner at Halley’s new place. Her and Edward had bought an old plantation style home outside of the city. She finally quit her lousy job at that gallery and is teaching art history at a tiny college and teaches small art classes once a week. She’s also back to working on her own artwork rather than selling someone else’s.
It turns out Bella left the intern program back at the beginning of May. She said her resident cried when she told him that she was leaving to be a housewife (getting married on Halloween!) and mother for a while. She said she wants to go into pediatrics when the baby gets a little older. She’s totally fearless, my girl. “I love the changes and the fact that it won’t be all about me and Jackson (that’s his full name) anymore. However, I hate that my body isn’t entirely mine now. I’m sharing it with another human being and periodically a doctor examines my very personal areas.”
Halley and I just stared; she beat me to the retort. “You’re a doctor who examines other people’s personal areas. What the hell?” This started us laughing, which made Edward stick his head out of the office. “I don’t wanna know, do I?” He asked smiling.
“Go back to your numbers Teddie Bear and leave us women to our gossip and sensitive-topic conversations.” Halley commented as she poured me and her more margaritas. Aaah, I love maragaritas.
“What kind of fruit do you have?” Bella asked, out of the blue.
“There’s some strawberries, sliced pineapple, and I made Eddie my famous Banana pudding last night because he was craving it and wouldn’t leave me alone until I helped him make it.”
I was half in the hole by this time, mostly because I hadn’t had a good margarita in ages, but i perked up instantly- or instantly with a delay and a slurr on it. “You made that pudding?! Can I have some?” Even in my indisposed state, I never should have said anything about it; Halley got that evil little glint in her eyes. “What kind of pudding is it?”
I floundered. “You know what it is! You just said it.”
She chuckled. Halley was an evil supervillain in a past life… or an interrogater for the government. “You have to say what kind it is before you get any.”
I sighed. I didn’t want to say it and she knew that. But, I also really wanted some of her homemade “Nanner Pudding.” I could feel it calling my name. That perfect yellow fruit, the vannila cookies, the whipped cream, and the heavenly pudding from scratch were pulling me like a giant magnet. “Halley, give me some of your damned banana-na pudding before I drown you in my margarita.”
She roared with laughter, causing Bella to join in, and Eddie to leave the office to stare at his insanely malicious wife. I stood up, a little unsteady, and dropped a huge ice cube down her bra as I walked away.
I demolished a large percentage of that pudding, leaving Eddie looking like somebody ran over his new bike the day after Christmas and my stomach communicating much hatred later. Let’s just say I slept on the floor beside the bed to keep the tilting room from making me lose my much earned prize.
btw, *sing song voice* I’m going on vacation! Sand, water, and a half-naked Scottie boy! We haven’t decided on the exact venue for our first summer vacay together, but I am leaning on either the Florida Keys or renting a boat in Greece. Hmm, or maybe Hawaii, or the Phillipines, ooh or New Zealand? Damn! I hate making decisions…. but I do love Greece,
Revenge is best served cold… on ice
Skinny Me is leaving in a couple of days. She’s taking a late-night flight back to Kentucky, and I’m torn. I didn’t realize how much I miss my girls until I had someone to talk to everyday again. As soon as Skinny Me is gone, I will be calling a meeting of the Three Crazy Chicas
On the other hand, Skinny Me has brought that long-forgotten and never-welcome drama back into my life that only the young and inexperienced can create. Yesterday, I caught her mooning over a picture of Awkward on her phone. I commanded her to call him, text him, email him, send him a frickin’ carrier pigeon, ANYTHING! She looked at me like I had told her to recreate the Holocaust.
Eau de OMG turned out to be not enough of a distraction for her (Thank God- he wore enough cologne to drown a fish) and she went back into a depression. She stayed in bed for a day and when I came home Saturday she wasn’t there. She sauntered in while Scott and I were “watching” some movie that he had rented. teehee. unhum. I gaped at her for a second, totally forgetting my shirtless significant other laying on the couch next to me. Skinny me now has a short, golden blonde bob that makes her look very chic fabulous. She did a twirl, smiled, and went back to Scott’s apartment. Scott just looked at me with that oh so sexy curious look on his face, and I promptly forgot Ms. Blonde Ambition. I’m a sucker for him; coherent thoughts and worries around him is like putting a band aid on a bullet wound- pointless. I’m going off of on a tangent from which I would not soon return. Sooo…. she can drastically change her hair, but she won’t call a guy she’s known for years now?
Although Awkward is handsome in a (how can I put this politely?) nerd who really got in shape kind of way- he’s even tan and looks like there could be muscle under that t-shirt. He has glasses and looks like he spends more time on the computer than with real people, but from what Skinny Me has said, he is a genius with cars and has bursts of confidence where he is so sexy.
Kill me now. I finally had to tell her that if she wasn’t going to step up to the plate and try to do anything about her situation that she couldn’t come crying to me anymore. I know that’s a harsh thing to say to one’s possible future in-law (BIG MAYBE!), but Skinny Me needs tough love. Scott lets her get away with stuff because of whats she has been through, but you know what? I wasn’t around for that, so I’m going to treat her like any other friend with a whining problem.
On top of that, my allergies seem to be making up for the few months that I was free while others suffered. I sleep a lot during the day now (usually at my desk in the store. lol) and stay up into the wee hours of the night on the computer or reading because my throat is too dry and my head is too stopped up to sleep.
Skippy is happily oblivious to all of this. He enjoys being “with his two favorite girls” as he put it. Skinny Me asked me not to say anything to Scott because he would “take the first flight to Kentucky and kill him slowly and painfully.” all her words and exaggerated. Scott may look like a weight-lifting, head-bashing thug, but he’s a total dork too. Who else finishes editing a two-page spread at 2 in the morning and then plays Halo for two hours because he needed to “unwind” and “detox.” *sigh* I can’t say anything because I watched with delight and then fought for the controller when I wanted to play GTA 4.
btw, I sold my car! That money is so going towards a summer vacation- just me, Scott, and the sun shining out across the water Yummy. Besides, I realized the parking bill wasn’t worth it for something I never drove. I’m thinking about getting a motorcycle
Mondays suck. How was your weekend?
Staying home sick is no fun when your significant other is on an important deadline at work and his sister is out on a “day date” with some dude from the bar.
I swear if she gets over Awkward (see Tears, Beers, and Somebody else’s Fears) this quickly and starts dating Eau de OMG (like that nickname do ya?) :D I will have to brain her with my trash can full of tissues. Enough about her. This post is a homage to self-pity, boredom, and snotty noses.
Allergies be Damned!!
My blog hit 2000!!! Wahoo! I pushed Skinny Me out of the bed and into the shower, shouting at her through the bathroom door to dress to impress becuase we were celebrating.
“Celebrating what, Picante?” Scott asked from the hall, where he had been taking out the trash.
I back-peddled quickly, not wanting to blow my secret identity out of the water. I like my freedom to say what I want. “We’re celebrating [Skinny Me] being here and all of us being successful, healthy and thriving!” I smacked his butt. “Go get sexy, bub.”
He pulled me back, coming This close to dislocating my shoulder because I was a millisecond into a dash/skip/dance something. “I already am sexy, and I would rather stay home and prove it to you.”
Que jelly legs and some hallway making out and we were off to get dressed for the night life. It’s been so nice at night lately (after the apocalyptic rain stopped) that I decided to wear a pair of short black shorts (made of suit fabric), a very cute red satin blouse that looked something like this:
Once out and about, I stuck to Scott’s side like a burr, giving off the distinct signal of “Back off Bitches! I bite!” like it was a neon side above my head. Scott seemed to be enjoying every minute of my non-verbal war with the single women of Atlanta as a whole. “This was a good idea,” He murmured in my ear, doing his own little non-verbal attack by whispering in my ear and making it look like something else entirely as a richly-dressed guy with graying hair and great smelling cologne was about to walk up.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to compete with these girls to get you to myself. It would not have been pretty in the end.” Skinny Me had disappeared by the bar, but I could tell by the laughing circle of young men that she was over there having a good time. “I guess [skinny me] gets over her depression pretty quickly.”
He shook his head, making his new idea -a sexy but scruffy goatee- brush against my neck. Good thing I was already leaning on him because my legs gave up on the pretense of being self-controlled. “It’s all an act so that she doesn’t ruin the night. She’s been on antidepressants since she was 17. Our parents kicked her out at 18 because she went off her meds and disappeared for a week, so I kind of became her only family.” He led me to a quiet-ish corner. “I went to her graduation, drove to Kentucky with her when she got into a college there, send her some money periodically, and help make a tuition payment every now and then when she gets bogged down. She works two regular jobs plus is a teacher’s aide/tutor when needed.” He looked into my eyes. “I’ve been keeping her balanced by flying her down here a couple of times a year. Plus, I know her psychologist very well by now.”
I stared over at the thinning circle, watching Skinny Me sip her Corona. I snuggled closer to Scott. “So, you must be the only normal one in your family, huh?”
He laughed. “Who says I’m normal? I’m a editor for a women’s magazine, living in 2 apartments at the same time, and am entirely addicted to sex.” I hit his arm. “Just kidding! Better worded, I’m crazy about you.”
We kissed and just stood there for a while, watching the hubbub around us.
“I think we’re a little to old- I mean mature- for these kind of clubs,” I said, laughing, a moment later. “Don’t you think we should be at one of those small, family-feeling pubs or privately-owned bars.”
“I agree, Picante. We are the old married couple sitting in the corner booth arguing over who will drive home and how crappy the Bulldogs are playing.” This earned him another hit on the arm.
We spent the rest of the evening dancing and making out in our little corner, only coming out for air and more drinks. To think I had one of the best nights of my life, and it didn’t involve utterly destroying my liver, talking to perfect strangers, or making a idiot of myself in the middle of the dancefloor. Maturity-ville, population: two… for now.
As promised, here is the poem I wrote for Skinny Me. She happened to love it, and it seems I have a younger sister now.
Lovers Anonymous
My name is lonely.
I am addicted to you
Your touch, your laugh,
Your voice, your smile.
But you don’t know,
How I yearn for that connection.
I’m impatient.
Can’t wait for my next fix of you.
Obsessed?
Maybe
Addicted?
Definitely
Itching for that next moment.
Restless for that next touch.
Withdrawal is my symptom.
You are the disease and the cure.
Tell me what you think because I don’t know if I even like it. If I get any good reviews, who knows? I may even let Scott read it. He’s not big on poetry though, which is why I love him. There is no hidden meaning or questioning with him.
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