01.25.09
Stone Cold Sober & Chilly
For those who I’ve worried with my hugemongo breakdown, I’m doing better. I am now going to work for small bits of time everyday and can sleep without the crying jag or inebriance. I still find myself staring off into lala land, ignoring people like someone’s gonna come by and drop another life changer on my head. Without the drink, I am now the coldest person in the Southeast. Thank goodness the warm air moved in for a little while to ease the breeze.
So, Scott took me on a shopping spree today. It was an internet spree since it was nasty out, but we got dressed for a public journey and sat at the coffee table eating his wonderful potato soup, which was such a flashback. See Official First Date. I haven’t been shopping in a month. Shocking, I know. Anyway, Scott said that we were celebrating Valentine’s Day early. I asked why, of course. I like my holidays where they are, chronological order and all. He looked a little sad and said that he’ll be in New York on business that entire week.
So, I had a cow. I flipped out since it is impossible for me to sleep without him now. I admit it, I am forever stuck on the big booger. He promised that he would have his phone on him at ALL times, and it was ok if I called and interrupted a meeting, no matter how important and such- even if it was just to hear his voice. I hugged him, and we proceeded to work out my budget for my comeback to the world of the living.
Which I blew the majority of at Victoria’s Secret and on a grand bag from Dooney & Bourke.
The Shoe Addict is back and will be kickin’ her heels as soon as these babies come in. I wish my legs looked like that in effing January! I admit I keep them looking good, but they are some pale sticks, albeit soft ones.
Hello mama!
I mean, how can you not feel better when you’re struttin’ your stuff in these? Admittedly, this makes me look a little shallow, but I get my healing where I can. I got some very pretty, boyfriend-friendly, under garments. I just love vicky’s secret. So comfy but so sexy.
On a sour note, I have yet to turn my phone back on, and my personal email account is probably feeling very lonely. However, I just really don’t feel like talking to any of my family right now. Just like when my dad died, I will heal on my own with my non-biological family up here in Atlanta, where I belong. Halley and Bella had put me under suicide watch… when Scott wasn’t making sure I continued to take breaths, that is. They are the greatest. Edward sent over a cd of songs. A lot of it was country and about cheating or drinking. Got me to laughing at least. Jack’s contributions were to keep Baby Leigh (so Bella could come spend time with Halley and me) and some homemade Cheese Bread (he is quite the baker- when he gets the time).
They are the reason I got out of my funk. Besides the useless threats of doing harm upon my person and harmless jokes to get me to keep up a showering routine, they were there for me. Even Jesse showed up with a bottle of wine and a message from Ray. *sigh* I love redneck Ray. I figured I had way too much to live for to dwell on dead people for too long. I guess, eventually, my curiousity will get the better of me, and I’ll go searching for that unknown family, but until then, I’m enjoying the one I don’t share DNA with… it seems to work best that way.
I am truly blessed, something I guess I don’t say enough.
07.02.08
Rediscovering The Meaning Of Family
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.
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 had always had problems, 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.
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?!
06.27.08
Back On The Land Of My Father
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
06.16.08
Budget Feuding and Sexy Brooding
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.
06.04.08
Banana-na-na-na…Dammit
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
05.29.08
Fresh Out:
- of energy
- of remote batteries and I sure ain’t getting my ass butt up to change the channel
- of milk, juice, and gatorade
- of get-up-and-go
- of good thoughts to develop
- of tissues
- of stupid soap operas to make fun of
- …now toilet paper
- of clean clothes (that aren’t my nice, saved for special occasion clothes)
- of patience with my mp3 player
- of Advil
- of sick days (good thing I’M the boss)
- of books that I haven’t read yet
- of IOU’s from Scott (“but Bubby please rub my head… it Hurts!”)
- of alcohol (NOOOO!!!) lol
- of empty trash cans
- of Jello and soup
- of ammunition in which to kill Dollar Menus on GTA IV (man, where are those pages of code cheats?!)
- of bad vibes (I sent them all to the producers of day-time television)
- of the dryer and now wrapped around my body
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?) 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!!
05.25.08
Tears, Beers, and Someone Else’s Fears
I have another new best friend (who came into town a week early on Thursday)!! Scott’s sister is so much like my high-school counterpart that it’s scary. As soon as we had our first conversation, in the longest car ride EVER out of the airport, I nicknamed her Skinny Me. Skinny Me is 22 years old, is going to college in Kentucky (wtf right?) to be a gynaecologist (or obstetrician) (EEK) , is about 6 feet tall, but weighs about the same I do (i am so jealous!). She has shoulder-length brown hair with pretty caramel and dirty blonde highlights (and a section of bright pink on the underside of the back!)
Anyway, I have named her Skinny Me because of her penchant for tactlessness, mental fumblings, and over-all hyperactive-kid-on-speed energy level. As she talked ninety miles a minute from the backseat of Scott’s truck, I half-listened and half-grieved on how I had realized how much energy I lost as I got older. She’s got a great sense of style because she knew that I was wearing this little pink cotton “smocked razorback” dress from GAP. Also, she was wearing really nice jeans (she confided she found them in a corner of a Salvation Army), a cute pair of American Eagle flats, and a loose-fitting boatneck t-shirt.
The three of us ate a quick lunch together, and as Scott was begrudgingly saying goodbye to his truck keys so we could back to the apartment he pecked my cheek and whispered, “Keep an eye on her please. She’s been under my responsibilty since my parents kicked her out at eighteen.”
He hugged Skinny Me who chuckled. “I’m 22, not 12. You can give her a proper bye without whispering junk about me.”
I leaned against the car and laughed. Scott turned a few shades of red before I caught my breath and pulled him to me, only for him to take it again. *sighs dreamily* His kisses are like drugs to a withdrawn junkie, relieving, wonderful, brain-mixing…
“There you go big brother,” she quipped, earning a playful smack on the arm. Once out of the car park, I snuck a glance at her as I fought lunch hour traffic- sweating bullets because I’m not used to driving anymore, much less a 4×4 monster through crowded Atlanta streets. “You didn’t have to embarass him.” She laughed and turned to face me. “I know, but he needed it. I keep him from turning into one of those arrogant dickheads. But now, the job isn’t solely mine. It seems you don’t take shit either.”
I smiled, not saying anything because I would’ve ended up opening a can of worms to the past that I had closed and buried years ago, which I will go into another day. We went back to my apartment, where we mooned and drooled over our favorite brands and labels on my laptop for a couple of hours. She went next door to get settled into Scott’s bedroom-fresh sheets, vacuumed, clean bathroom, and fresh sunflowers courtesy of me, so I ran (in which I mean I speed-walked like the dickens) down to the store to do a quick check-in, sign for a delivery, and call in employees for my future absences while Skinny Me is in town.
When I got back to the apartment, sweating, barefoot (my flats were creating blisters OK?! lol), and my hair going crazy with the humidity, Skinny Me was sitting at Scott’s desktop PC cleaning out her email and sniffling. Wait, what? is the first thing that popped into my mind. I tried to walk backwards out slowly, but I hit my heel on the doorjam and crashed into the door. “sorry for barging in. I’m back and will be at my place getting dinner ready.”
“It’s ok,” she replied, “Wait just a second I need some advice from a objective third party’s perspective.”
Oh shit, I thought, and I must been an open book of facial expressions that day because she gave me a watery smile and shook her head. “It’s nothing to heavy or anything that you’ll have to keep from Pops.” Aww, she has nicknames for Scott too.
I sighed and told her to come back to my apartment, so we could talk over a glass of wine while I got the chicken meatballs and vegetables ready for the subs I had been wanting to make ever since I saw them on 30 minute meals. However, when I poured each of us a glass, dinner was forgotten. We ended up ordering Chinese because Pops got home late, and Skinny Me and I were a little drunk by the time he got there.
Next post will be what she told me because I even need some help deciphering this situation!! SOS
05.12.08
So Not Twenty-Something Anymore
I’ve been riding on a wave of glee, contentment, and euphoria lately. Our earlier stumbles have repaired themselves, building a stronger structure for love and happiness. Oh… the sex -I mean happiness.
This morning I walked up behind Scott has he was rinsing the toothpaste from his mouth and grabbed his butt. He gave me that look, which seemed to say “Oh no you didn’t,” “You’re gonna make me late for work-again,” and “Who cares about employment,” all in one bam. He then proceeded to chase me around his apartment with the dogs hot on our heels. After he caught me (because I tripped on the couch and bashed my knee into the coffee table) he relentlessly tickled me into breathless submission and left me on the bed red as a beet and holding my stitched up sides.
I got back at him later by wearing a short flower-print babydoll dress similar to the cover-up I bought at Victoria’s Secret, some flat, strappy sandals, clipping back part of my newly cut and highlighted hair, and taking him lunch at work. I thought his eyes were gonna pop out of their sockets in order to follow me around! He shook his head at me when I sat on the corner of his desk and propped one foot up on his chair, saying, “Indecent exposure, Picante.”
I played with the hem of my dress. “It’s only indecent if I weren’t wearing underwear stupid. And it’s only exposure if I drop something, duh.” Then, I started laughing and couldn’t stop. Before I started dating Scott, I never would’ve said something like that to my significant other for fear of scaring them or them thinking I was some kind of easy piece of trash. Having someone who pushes on no matter what you say or do, and he talks to you rather than just you being each other’s bed fellows and coming to each other for that only, means so much more than he may ever know.
This evening when I got home, he was already there, which is extremely surprising. We’ve been eating sandwiches and homemade brownies and snuggled on the couch in front of the tv. I’m gonna have to start going running or go the gym again if I’m going to be able to wear my lovely swimwear.
Dammit! I was so distracted by Skippy’s playfulness that for one stress-free moment I forgot about the aforementioned sister is coming down to visit and meet me. :O I be much afeared. From the pic Scott sent her, she’ll think I’m some young, club-hopping chic who will show her around Hot-lanta. This is either going to be lots of fun or the worst disaster ever. Scott couldn’t have put it any better as he chased me around the house this morning. “You know, I’m not twenty-something anymore,” he puffed, “I can’t be chasing you around this crowded apartment and bend to your every womanly-wiles whim.” Who’s my sexy drama king? LMAO
It’s time for a little ticklish payback!
Mwahahaha
05.07.08
Iz Not Amused
I think I may have a virus in my computer, my feet are hurting like someone stuck a nail under my pinky toes, and Scott seems to find it amusing to help me find real estate ads all over his AND my apartment. Stuck on the fridge, to the toaster, the coffee machine, stuck to the bathroom mirror, and even slid into my laptop. I’m working from his laptop while mine is in the shop (Lol)
After a stressful morning of me rushing around trying to get dressed and get to the store on time, I find an agent’s booklet laying on my shoes. I threw it at him and stalked out. Ever since I told him that I would think about it, he has got it into the deepest recesses of his mind that we are buying a house, and it has taken root, settled down for the long haul. This a little shameful to admit, but I’ve never owned a permanent residence. Leased one, rented many, and helped fix up and sell one, but I never bought and lived in my own home.
Anyways, I digress. I get to work, dole out paychecks, and I boot up Scott’s laptop to find this on his desktop:
That’s just the sweetest thing, isn’t it? aww… He knows just how to make me laugh and feel better when I was feeling more like this:
So much can be said through these new craze sweeping the web! And, I’m caught up in it. I’m not a cat lover, but LOLcats makes me want to get one.
I’m going to eat some hot dogs and soak my feet in warm water. Maybe I won’t find a newspaper clipping in the bottom of the tub. I’m hiding all the scissors and canceling my newspaper subscriptions!
Wave Bye Bye to the AJC!
