"WTF?" were Future Husband's first words when he saw me. Not abbreviated, of course.

But let's go back a little bit further.

I finished writing my blog about the San Diego snafu about 9:00am, but decided to schedule it to post four hours later, just in case something else funny happened that I needed to add to the story. So I spent the rest of the morning texting FH about how much I missed him, talking about silly things, talking about naughty things. Usual text banter for us. By 11:00am I was so nervous I was pretty sure I was going to throw up. Or die. Or both.

I'd gone over in my head exactly how I wanted the surprise to go. He was going to come through the back door, and I would be in the living room, which is situated a little behind the door, but with a clear view of it. He would see my things on the kitchen table, and I would wait until he looked to be at the apex of confusion, then walk up behind him and say something witty like, "Did you figure it out yet?" or something romantic, like, "Hello, Handsome." I pulled all of the blinds down, so he wouldn't see me when he walked through the back yard.

By 11:30am, I knew he had to be nearly to town. And ten minutes later I was told they were at a friend's house, unloading the equipment. That's when my palms started sweating. I knew I would be seeing Future Husband for the first time in two months. It felt like longer; it felt like three. The tiny week he was home between tours didn't give us nearly enough time together. The more I watched the clock, the faster my heart was racing, and the knottier my stomach was becoming. I forced myself to focus on silly things, like Mah Jong and Cracked.com. But it wasn't working too well. All I could do was run over the upcoming moment in my head. I wanted it to be perfect.

Finally, about 12:15pm, I heard voice outside. I dropped everything (literally, hours later I recovered my cell phone from under the couch) and ran to the window, careful to not be seen through cracks in the blinds. I could see the big white Ogre, and could hear a few different voices. The front door rattled, but was still bolted.

Oh, crap. I thought. He's trying to come through the front. Did she say she left the key up front?

My nerves disappeared. I no longer worried about what I was going to say to make the moment perfect. I knew the plan was out the window, so I had to improvise. I ran to the front door (seriously, I ran) and flung it open. G and D turned around and shock flashed across their faces.

"Holy shit! What are you doing here?" G said.

"Surprise!" I laughed. Future Husband was no where in sight. I looked into the van, hoping maybe he was pulling something out from under a bench, but no luck.

"He went around back," G said. Crap. My plan totally could have worked, but I got impatient. G hugged me, and I nervously explained my being in Arizona (which in hindsight, was probably barely coherent.) As I was rambling on, G looked at something over my shoulder and pointed behind me.



I turned around to see Future Husband in the doorway, his eyes wide and disbelieving. "What the f***!?" He grabbed me into a tight hug, and I giggled as my head swam with dizziness. It was finally here. After weeks of planning and scheming, and long hours spent pining after him, he was finally back in my arms. Scruffier, smellier and a lot skinnier than when I saw him last on April 5th, but back. With me. My heart stopped racing, and my palms stopped sweating, but the shaking had started. Every part of me, especially my hands, were quivering. We hugged and kissed, and tried to finish getting his things out of the van.

"I... I just can't even think right now," he said, after I asked him if he'd gotten everything. Over the next few hours he told me I was 'fantastic' and 'amazing' and 'awesome' and other wonderful adjectives to be described as. We got him showered and fed and well... I'm sure you can guess what else.

So I didn't get to say any of the clever or romantic I had rehearsed endlessly in my head. Nothing ended up going according to plan. But when all was said and done, the moment was still perfect. And now we're reunited, and it feels so good.

Ok, remember how I said my grandmother had gotten sick and taken a turn for the worst in April? (I know, this is a pretty craptastic way to start a blog with 'comedy' in the title, hang in there...) I flew down after Future Husband left town for the second, longer leg of tour. I got to visit my Grandmother for what could have been the last time (it wasn't, thank goodness!) and while I was out there for a long weekend, had Sunday dinner with my Future In-Laws.

Let me just say that both Future Husband and I are incredibly lucky. We both have In-Laws that are easy to get along with and adore us. My parents have been crazy about FH since he beat my mother at Scrabble many, many years ago (she had been undefeated for 30 years previously) and his parents have loved me since they realized I was intelligent and sane. (Which, compared to his previous girlfriends, is a vast improvement.)

So while I was having dinner with them that first Sunday in April, I ran the idea past them of me potentially coming out to Arizona at the end of May/beginning of June to surprise Future Husband. He and I had discussed me flying out for a weekend to visit him, but then when we crunched the numbers, we realized a round trip flight, a few motel rooms and food would end up costing what me being away for a whole month of the next tour would be, and it just didn't seem logical. But it got my wheels turning. I scrimped and saved, and since April was a three pay day month, I was able to buy a one way ticket out to Arizona.

I waited until Mother's Day to bring it up again, and let the In-Laws know I had indeed purchased a ticket, and reminded them of our conversation in early April. They said that of course it would be alright for me to fly out and spend a day or two with them before Future Husband rolled into town.

The surprise is my goal. Yes, we'll be reunited two whole weeks sooner than originally planned. Which is effing fantastic. But it's the element of surprise I'm most excited about. It's so ridiculously hard for me to keep a secret from Future Husband, even with things like Christmas and Birthday presents. So the fact that I've been able to keep my mouth shut this whole time, and not accidentally give him any hints, is well... awesome. I'm very proud of myself.

So since April 19th I've been sitting on this secret visit of mine. Diligently counting down the days with FH until I got to see him again, while all the while keeping a real countdown simultaneously. I was going to fly out to Arizona on May 28th, and made sure my visit was on a need-to-know basis. The cousin that picked me up from the Airport, and the cousin that would drop me off at the In-Laws. A few friends got informed over the weekend, but told to keep it under the strictest of secrets. Mainly, to maintain Facebook and Twitter silence. (Oh, this modern world of ours!)

The day finally came. I woke up at 5:30am after a three and a half hour nap (after a 37 hour day) and caught a bus to the airport. By noon I was landing in Phoenix, and later that night I was staying with a cousin. Doing my best to not let on to Future Husband that I was in Arizona, spinning a web of little whites lies about what I was doing. "Oh, I'm talking to my cousin." Hoping he would assume on the phone or online, and not in her living room.

So Sunday evening I had this cousin drop me off at the In-Laws' house. As we were pulling up and I was giving directions I said, "My sister in law's car should be out front." But it wasn't. I had her drop me off anyway (as I'd talked to my Father in Law on Thursday and reminded him of my secret visit.) No one was home, so I just assumed that they were out at the store, or perhaps some sort of car event, and would be back soon. So I sat down on a seat on the porch, plugged in my laptop, and caught up on some Cracked.com articles.

Then I got a call from Future Husband...

Without a preceding text or two asking what I was up to, if I was available for a call, etc.. We usually check with each other to make sure batteries and surroundings are ready for what might turn into a lengthy call. He began his call with, "So I just got off the phone with my dad..."

My heart sank. I could hear the weirdness in FH's voice. I just knew his dad had let something slip about my presence in Arizona.

"...and he and mom are in San Diego." A mixture of feelings erupted in me. 'Yes! He doesn't know I'm in Arizona!' and very quickly followed by, 'Crap! I'm locked out of the house and I really have to pee!'

I composed myself quickly and said, "Oh, no! I just reminded him earlier this week that you'd be in town!"

While I was talking to Future Husband, I got a text response from his sister, since I'd asked her if she was having dinner with her parents that night. Her text told me the same as FH just had. I shot a text back quickly, "Oh no! I'm on their front porch waiting for them! Don't tell Future Husband!!"

While FH and I discussed how he could get into the house (Sister in Law has a key, and was going to come by Monday evening to take care of the animals) I got another text from her. Luckily, the first band started playing just then, so Future Husband ended his call (after we'd brainstormed that he would have to go pick up the key from her before going back out to his parents' house.) I called her right away.

I quickly explained the situation, and that it was a surprise for Future Husband. She agreed to bring the key out to me, and we schemed about the cover story we'd tell FH. Just as we settled on the idea that we'd tell him there was a key under the mat, when really there was just a future wife in the house to let him in, FH sent me a grumpy text, telling me that G didn't want to make a 40 mile detour.

For a moment I was stuck. I couldn't say anything that might give away my unique position to help him, but I had to depend on Future Sister in Law to not accidentally spill the beans. I told FH to call FSiL and see if she could work something out.

A few moments later, he replied that he'd just spoken to her, and she told him the cover story she and I had discussed earlier. With a triumphant, "Yes! She rules!" text, I was finally able to rest easy.

When FSiL and her boyfriend arrived to let me in, the first thing she said as she got out of the car was, "I called dad and told him what happened, made him feel bad. He thought it was next weekend."

As I was telling my cousin earlier that very day, I was worried about FH's parents accidentally letting him know I was in town. They're both ridiculously intelligent people. Both well read and educated, clever and witty. Their awesome children are a product of their own awesomeness. But they are a little... flighty. I already refer to them as 'Ma and Pa' when I talk to them, and already care for them a great deal. I can honestly see myself growing very close to them over the next few years. Like I said, Future Husband and I really, really lucked out in the In-Law department. But still, I recognize that his parents are not always the most... attentive. That's a nice word for it. Really, it's probably just that they got involved in their own work and social lives and lost track of the dates. Lord knows I'm no stranger to that. Regardless, it makes for a pretty humorous story.

"That's okay!" I laughed. "I hope he doesn't feel too bad. It's actually kind of funny. And it worked out alright."

With a combination of the Future In-Laws losing track of the dates and G's somewhat justifiably douchebaggery; and after a panicky (yet hilarious) twenty minute period, I've come to see the silver lining; Future Husband and I get the whole house all to ourselves for our surprise reunion. I am a very happy Lori.

And now it's just a waiting game. Future Husband is currently somewhere between Albuquerque and Flagstaff, and I'm waiting anxiously, all alone, at his parents' house. Going over how I want to surprise him, trying to think of something clever and romantic to say when he walks in and unexpectedly sees me.

I'll let you know how it goes!

One blustery day towards the end of March, while I had Future Husband home for a week between tours, our new friends Josh and Ali from JayLee Photography took us out and shot us.

With their cameras.

Sometime around Birthmas I had posted an ad on Craigslist, seeing if any budding photographers wanted to build up their portfolio with an Engagement Shoot. There was one fellow we were strongly considering, a photographer that had many years experience with architecture and nature shots, but was wanting to transition into the Wedding business. And then Josh and Ali came along. Already quite seasoned in the biz, they offered to do a shoot with us, and we couldn't resist after seeing their beautiful photography.

Having dabbled in photography in college, it's hard for me to not look at someone's work and immediately start critiquing it, even if I like it. I don't mean to imply that I could do any better, it's just simply that I know the technical side of what goes into a photograph, and it's hard for me to turn off the analytical part of my brain. I'll wish they'd used a different aperture, or shutter speed, or hadn't gone crazy with the photoshopping. With Josh and Ali's work, I don't do that. I look at it, and feel something first. So much so that it takes real effort for me to critique it. Their photos are full of whimsy and romance, and seem to capture the essence of the couples they work with. Their pictures aren't posed and plasticine. They are all little views into candid, happy moments with the couples they worked with.

Needless to say, Future Husband and I were massively excited about working with them. And we were not let down. Some of these pictures even moved me to tears, they so well captured FH and I.



You can see a nice selection of our shoot here. Though I highly recommend checking out their portfolio. You won't be disappointed.

We were so happy with the shoot, even if it was wet, cold and windy (it's Seattle, what else would it be?) and thrilled with the photos that came from it. Thank you so much, Josh and Ali!!!

I know no one else will find this as amusing or adorable as I will, but I had to post it anyway.

Future Husband's throat is sore tonight, which I'm sure is just the result of being dehydrated, playing a show (and therefore, screaming) and drinking beer. So I made him drink a glass of water, and now he's got a mug of hot coffee. I'm sure he'll be fine in no time.

A few minutes ago, I was about to run into the kitchen to top off his mug, but leaned in for a kiss first. But before I got there, he said, "My throat hurts when I talk."

To which I replied, "It's okay, we don't need to talk. We can just point and grunt. We understand each other." And kissed him. Our foreheads were pressed against each others, so I gave him another quick little peck.

Then he whispered back, "No, I'll just whisper"
*kiss*
FH: "Like a dying magician on his deathbed."
*kiss*
Me: "Okay, that'll work too."
*kiss*
FH: "I can finally tell you-"
*kiss*
FH: "-where I've been hiding all of those doves and rabbits."

At this point, I had to lean my face down and try to keep myself from doing that snorty kind of laugh. I looked back up at him, smiled and said, "Oh, I love you."

To which he whispered, still sounding as serious as he possibly could, "I love you so much. My little dove, my little rabbit... meine hossenfeffer."

After that, one of the little snorty laugh escaped.

Here's the best picture I was able to get myself. It's kinda blurry, but it was the clearest I took. We're supposed to have some pictures taken with a friend later this week, so hopefully there'll be some better, non-self-portrait pics later.

For those of you that don't keep up with the news, or are not astronomical nerds like me, tonight was a ridiculously rare event. Tonight is Winter Solstice, a full moon, AND a total lunar eclipse. The last time this happened was in 1638, 372 years ago.

Here in Arizona, there's an Italian restaurant that Future Husband's been wanting to take me to, called Baci. It's kind of out in the middle of nowhere, but seems to be doing well, which tells me they probably have a seriously loyal customer base. For dinner tonight, FH took me out for dinner to celebrate the Solstice. We started the night with an amazing Antipasto Salad. It was like Caprese Salad, but on delicious, meaty steroids. We chose soup over salad; I had Meatball and Orzo, he had Tortellini. For dinner, he had Shrimp and Scallops Florentine, and I had Chicken and Artichoke Limone. And desert? We split a Cannoli, of course. It was an amazing (and painfully filling) meal. And even though I've lived in a van with him for seven of the last ten months (and we literally cannot escape each others company), I still enjoy alone time with Future Husband. Especially date nights. It's one of the traits of my secretly girly side.

We drove home for a little pit stop until it was time to go out to see the eclpise. We chose to go to one of the county parks far away from everything, even the suburbs, so it was nice and dark. After getting a little turned around, we found the park and pulled Future Mother-in-Law's truck onto a little dirt road. We spread out sleeping bags in the back of the truck, and got to moon watching. Or trying to, anyway. Thick cloud cover had rolled in a few hours earlier, though. So we cuddled up under the sleeping bags (on the chilly, 55 degree Arizona night), and eavesdropped on the two other groups out in the park with us. We heard what sounded like a group of four teenagers talking about the Zombie Apocalypse. It was sooo tempting to sneak over to try and scare them, but we didn't. With my luck, I would've stumbled across a snake or scorpion, anyway.

As the time for the total eclipse neared, we realized we weren't going to be able to see anything because of the cloud cover. (Honestly, we spent a good deal of the time kissing anyway, so we wouldn't have seen much.) During one of our snuggly moments, Future Husband turned his face towards mine, and did that uber romantic, so-hard-to-not-get-fluttery-feelings thing where he puts his palm on my cheek and his fingers in my hair. You know, that super cinematic, really whimsical move to pull my lips to his. He kissed me eagerly, and when he pulled away, told me he loved me. He dug his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a ring.

So even though we're 'Facebook Official', and we're already knee deep in wedding plans, we didn't have a ring yet. We'd meant to get one earlier, but we hadn't run across one we liked, and practical things like not being in the country or not having a paycheck had postponed its purchase.

I smiled, and slipped it on, and Future Husband kissed me again. I held my hand up to look at my ring and saw this;


So I'll post a picture of it soon, once I have some light and Future Husband isn't kissing my neck, wanting to drag me away from my laptop. ;-D

Within a week of Boyfriend and I becoming 'Boyfriend and I' last September 9th, we knew we were altar bound. Just a day after we finally got our act together, he happily told me, "We have a lifetime of Scrabble ahead of us."

On September 14th of last year, he asked me to tour with his band. Turned out it wasn't even his idea. G and D suggested it, and of course, Boyfriend (and then I) enthusiastically agreed with it. That night Boyfriend told me he loved me for the first time. Within a week of that, he was telling me about the Domestic Partnership he had with Crazy Ex #1 from a few years ago. He said, "I have to get rid of that so I'm free to marry you."

Ever the self doubter and over thinker, I couldn't quite believe I'd heard him right, so I didn't ask him to clarify. That's what girls are supposed to do, right? Not talk about commitment, cause boys are afraid of that? But a few days later I jokingly referenced what our children might look like, and he called them, 'inevitable.'

It blew me away. I've been in love with Boyfriend since I was 19 years old. I never thought we'd actually be together, and the few times I allowed myself to actually think/fantasize about that, I never thought we'd make it for the long haul. I always thought we'd have a few happy years together, have a lot of fun, and then decide we wanted different things. I thought I'd go start a family, and he'd continue to live his rock 'n roll lifestyle. We would've stayed friends, of course, but it would have just been a fun relationship. I never thought I'd fall as hard as I did (or rather, didn't realize how hard I'd already fallen). But as soon as Boyfriend mentioned babies and marriage (and he brought them up first) I finally accepted how deeply I loved him.

On my birthday last year (which was epically awesome) after a couple rounds of Jell-O shots, I pulled my mother away from her palm reading station at the party and said, "I want to tell Boyfriend I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Should I?" Mom just laughed at me.

Later, in the bouncy castle (yes - there was a bouncy castle), Boyfriend and I were snuggling. The aforementioned Jell-O shots gave me enough courage to pull him close and say, "I want to spend every day with you. For the rest of my life."

His response? "I thought that was the plan."


Since that night last October we've occasionally mentioned forever. At some point over the last year we somehow arrived at a conclusion for the date. I thought it was awesome that we got together on 9-9-09, and jokingly said, "We should get married on 11-1-11. Then our rehearsal dinner could be a costume party."

"And that would be a super easy anniversary to remember!" Boyfriend said. (Even then, when he told his mother last month, he told her it was the 11th we wanted. Silly boy.)

Our second night out on my first tour, as we were walking to a party after parking the van a few blocks away, Boyfriend lamented, "I don't know how to introduce you to people. You're not my fiance yet, because I haven't gotten a ring, but you're so much more than just my girlfriend." He then changed the subject to what kind of ring I wanted. Smooth, that one.

The only hold up so far has been telling his folks. My parents have known since I knew. I'm extremely close to my parents, and tell them everything. Boyfriend, however, while he loves his parents and is close to them, he's not as friendly with his parents as I am with mine. And my parents have known him for six years. Boyfriend's parents met me last Christmas. His original plan was to tell his father he wanted to ask me to marry him, but things kept coming up, or getting in the way. It's adorable, really, how much he admires his parents. Even at 26, he's still worried about making them proud and not disappointing them. When we were in Arizona last month on the way back from tour, Boyfriend finally worked up the nerve to tell his mom. When Boyfriend told me the story, he said he was trying to lead her to the subject, and she brought it up. When she told me the story they next day (while we were getting our toes done), she said she told him he had to marry me. It's a disagreement I'm happy to let them have.

I jokingly told my future sister in law that even though we knew we were going to get married, and had picked out the date, we weren't 'engaged' because Boyfriend hadn't asked and there wasn't a ring. The GBF said that I couldn't call myself 'engaged' until Boyfriend made it 'facebook official.' Either way, though we've been discussing our wedding party, the menu for the reception, and where we want to honeymoon, we weren't referring to ourselves as engaged.

Until now.

A few days ago, while we were shopping for Halloween Costume accessories, a cheapy ring in the thrift store case caught my eye. (When we discussed rings, I told him he wasn't allowed to spend more than $20 on my ring. They're just symbolic anyway, I'm clumsy and bad with jewelry, and we can use the extra money to have a longer honeymoon.) Boyfriend said, "Hey, we're getting married a year from Monday, huh?" I answered positively, and he said, "We should change our facebook status."

Sunday night, a few minutes after midnight, Boyfriend left the couch, grabbed my laptop, and pulled up facebook. He went immediately to the 'Relationships' page, changed his status to 'Engaged to,' nudged me and pointed to it. I looked over and he asked, "Eh?"

I smiled at him, said, "Sure!" and he clicked save.

So 363 days from now, I'll be in a white dress in Arizona, celebrating with my closest friends and family, and calling my dearest friend 'Husband.'

Sometimes my relationship with Boyfriend feels really weird. I've known him for almost six years, so most of the time it feels like we've been together that long. In reality, we've been together romantically for ten months, and only living together for four months. Granted, we lived in a van together for two of those months, so it kinda got fast tracked. Every once and a while, something will happen that reminds me how young the openly romantic aspect of our relationship still is.

Like when he does something ridiculously cute and I giggle more than I should, or find it much more adorable than it actually is. Like when he plays video games and laughs like a ten year old when things blow up. Or when he randomly tackles me in a hug and tickles me.

I got on my computer the other day and found this:

When I asked him what it was, he said, "Oh... that's me doing a handstand."

I laughed appreciatively and said, "I'm saving this."

He protested, "You don't have to, it's just a doodle."

"Nope. It's awesome." And so it's now on the front of my virtual refrigerator.

Boyfriend totally saved my life today. He gets Gold Stars everyday for the rest of ever.

Bus: 0, Boyfriend: 1 - Suck it, bus!

It's been weird breaking my blogging streak... I got rather used to posting something every day. It was pretty productive of me, even if it was a bit of a time suck. I suppose it's better to dedicate some of that effort towards my novel... but alas. (It looks like the ellipsis take over when I'm lacking sleep.)

I arrived in Seattle on time, even though my plane left Phoenix 45 minutes late. I don't know how planes work. Honestly. It blows my mind. I suppose there's not a speed limit up there, but still. Terrifying. A giant hunk of metal magically hurdling through the sky at hundreds of miles per hour. Bring me rum.




Boyfriend met me at the airport, and the PDA started there at baggage claim. Hooooraaaaay. I told him a few days ago that when I missed him hard, it was like being thirsty. Which is appropriate, given the face that kissing him and having his arms around me after being away from him for weeks feels like a cold glass of water when you're very, very thirsty.

But enough with the mushy stuff. We were both exhausted, and hungry, as neither of us had really gotten any food or sleep in the 24 hours leading up to my arrival. We checked into the hotel, and promptly sought out food. The hotel we usually stay in has roughly two bazillion restaurants nearby, but we settled on a place we hadn't tried yet. Bully for us! Especially since we're creatures of habit. Two spicy, delicious pulled pork sandwiches later, we were back at the hotel, deciding what time to set the alarm for so we knew how much nap we could fit in before Boyfriend had to go to work.

Work was probably the hardest part of the weekend. I got six lovely hours with him, and then BAM! Eight hours of him being away. He called it an appetizer. I told him I wanted to main course. That made me hungry, so I watched Food Network while I ate a peanut butter and banana sandwich. When he finally got back from work, I made a quite spectacular dinner, considering my tools and budget were rather limited (one sauce pan, one skillet, two burners, one Ikea steak knife, no cooking utensils).

Friday night was the first show his band had this weekend. It's at a little bar called Tiger Lounge, and the building totally used to be an old house. There are pinball machines in the basement, and the bar is in the back room. The front rooms have been opened up into one large room with tables and chairs for the pub grub they serve. There's a stage in one corner, zebra print covered speakers, and local art on the walls. It has a local bar/pub/everybody-knows-your-name feel to it. I love it.

The guys were playing second in a show of four bands, so we parked at the bar until it was time to play. Boyfriend got two free drinks since he was playing, so got me a drink with one of his tickets. As we were sipping the finest of the cheap beers, two friendly acquaintances from my last trip recognized me and came up. I got hugs. I felt accomplished. I'd technically lived in Seattle for only a week (and even then, my residency is very loosely defined) and I was getting hugs from two facebook friends.

They're fun to talk to, and fun to be at shows with, since they appreciate live music like I do. They, however, get into it a little more than I do. Maybe because I'm a musician myself, I am a bit of a snob when it comes to watching other bands. These two make me a little sad though, because I know what they do every weekend is what they've been doing since they were teenagers. They're like career band aids. They love a few different bands, and follow them somewhat faithfully. For some reason though, it just rings hollow to me. I don't really know how to go about getting to know them, or if I even want to. Remember that movie with Goldie Hawn and Susan Sarandon, about the groupies that were all grown up? Yeah, most people don't. But I did see it. That's what these women reminded me of. Fun to be around, but still a warning.



After the show the bartender (who reminds me a great deal of my favorite cousin) started giving me free drinks. I started getting free drinks before the guys did, so it was funny. I only had two or three beers, but she gave me some sort of pineapple juice and flavored vodka drink, as well as a shot of whiskey later in the night. I would have been just fine with the whiskey and beer, but the vodka... oh, the vodka. For those of you that don't know me in person, Vodka is my arch nemesis. Vodka lives in an ice castle (very much like the Fortress of Solitude) and plots ways to thwart me. Vodka watches me on monitors and bugs my phone calls, so it can show up on nights I want to have a nice, easy, fun time with my friends. And then he strikes. He swoops in, sneaks some vodka into my stomach, and then laughs maniacally as he poisons me with his subtle strength and ruins my night. Damn you, Vodka! Someday I will exact my revenge!




After the show Boyfriend and I hit Jack in the Box on the way back to the hotel. Sourdough Jacks. Mmmm... how I've missed them living in Tulsa. Then we did lots of things that were amazing and mind blowing and not appropriate to describe in detail, considering half of my followers are related to me. But it was awesome. And we had to sleep for ten hours afterwards.

Saturday we were supposed to meet one of my cousins for sushi, but he got shipped to San Diego for the weekend at the last minute. We'd been looking forward to sushi all week though, so we went to Freemont and loaded up. Spider Rolls, god. So, so tasty. Then he walked me around the neighborhood and showed me the Troll under the bridge. It was spectacular. Someday I wanted something that terrifying/awesome in my yard. The street you have to walk up to get to it is even called 'Troll Ave'. I poked around it for a few minutes, admiring it's general awesomeness and silently scolding myself for forgetting my camera. Then Boyfriend and I kissed for a few minutes in front of the troll. It was spectacular. It was also windy and I had my hair down, so any onlookers would have only seen two Muppets standing quite close to one another, and none of the offensive smooching.



Walking back down the hill to get back to the car was magical. It was a crisp night, but not too cold. And clear, which is unusual for Seattle (in my limited experience). The stars were visible, and coming down the hill you could clearly see the water and the homes on the other side. It was all trees and twinkling lights and the moon and stars reflected off the water. And I had a boy that's crazy in love with me holding my hand. All in all, the moment was pretty serene. And then we started talking about Zombies. It's what we do.

Sunday was their tour kick off show at a place called The Comet. Boyfriend and I had to park about half a mile away (the closest spot we could find) and hike. Which is pretty much what we had to do the other two times they played at The Comet while I was out there. The show went really well (in fact, a photographer came out just to see the guys and shoot them, then left right after they played) and we sold lots of merch. I came to a rather sad realization, and that's that I don't quite fit in with the crowd that comes to Boyfriend's shows. It's fairly obvious that I'm a goody goody. Everyone there was wearing black, and the only hints of color were red accents on guys' shirts and girls' plaid accessories. I, however, was wearing a bright red shirt, a normal shade of blue jeans (instead of black or very dark blue) and had my hair in pigtails. In my defense, the pigtails were there because of the amount of frizz present that day. Braids were the only way to tame them. But still. I felt like friggin' Pollyanna at a Black Mass.



Afterwards we got our standard post show meal of hot dogs with cream cheese (so good, trust me!), then headed back to the hotel to enjoy a bed and warmth and indoor plumbing for the last few days we were guaranteed to have it.

So last night I did something which has become a bit of a tradition with my friends and I. It started a few years ago with the Gay Best Friend and I sneaking a small bottle of vodka into the Lindsey Lohan movie "I Know Who Killed Me."

Last year, the Bestest and I took my mother to see Twilight, as she couldn't wrap her mind around how terrible watching Vampires play baseball was. Also, she didn't believe how Kristen Stewart vomits up her words until she actually saw it. Needless to say, she spent a good portion of the movie trying to stifle her laughs, so not to disturb the 14 year olds who were actually enjoying the movie. I however, did not. I laughed and mocked openly.

Last night we went to see New Moon, Sailor Jerry successfully hidden in my purse. Honestly, it's the only thing that got me through that movie. Twenty minutes in, all we had seen was Deadward and Mary Sue trying desperately to have some on screen chemistry and failing. Oh, and Jacob 'I'm the only decent character in this series' Black trying to smile and flirt his way into the plot. By the time we get to Bella's birthday party, we've been reminded every thirty seconds that Bella is now 18, and therefore older than Edward. And that is bad. Cause women should be inferior to the men in their lives in every possible way, right Stephenie Meyer?

I know it's bad form for aspiring writers to publicly criticize an established writer. I guess what is keeping me safe is that Meyer is not a writer. She's some dime a dozen romance novel reader who went to school to get her MRS degree, and decided to study literature. Then, suddenly she decides to write a book after having a dirty dream about a 17 year old vampire. She doesn't even use the word 'chagrin' correctly, though it's used at least once a chapter. The only reason she got an agent and a publisher so quickly is because they realized what a gold mine they had. They could sell this piece of nonsensical fluff to tweenage girls and voila, easy money. She's the Britney Spears of the publishing industry. I could go on and on about my loathing of Stephenie Meyer, but I won't. I'll leave it to one little paragraph and walk away.

My favorite moment of the movie, however, came when the rum had just made my head start to spin. Bella encounters the werewolves, and runs to her father to warn him that it's not a bear killing hikers. In her painfully strained way of barfing out her lines, Kristen Stewart manages to put forward her most emotion to get out, "They are not bears!"

For some reason (probably alcohol induced) I found this to be the funniest part of the movie. Other than the horrible CGI. I mean, really, could they have rushed this movie any faster? I've since been running around randomly saying, "They are not bears!" and laughing like a maniac.

The Bestest and I had a great time making fun of the terrible movie, the terrible story, and the terrible acting. But we did spend a good deal of the movie talking and having entirely too much fun. At one point, she leaned over and said, "One of the many reasons I love you is because you ignore my stutter."

I responded with, "That's because you ignore mine, too!"

We both laughed and she said, "Oh, I love us! Let's touch foreheads!" And we did. And we giggled.

And to round out this horribly disjointed blog, I'll close with some of my funnier text messages, and leave out most of the part of the night where I turned into a weeping, insecure shithead and accused Boyfriend of not really loving me. (Yeah, I'm that kind of obnoxious, ridiculous drunk.)

Me: This is a 2fer. I can make fun of mormonns and shitty bampires!
BF: Bampires!? You adorable lush!

My phone has a qwerty keyboard, which I'm still trying to get used to, even though I've had this phone for almost a year. And it makes for some mighty funny drunk typos. My mother, the Bestest and I were discussing the sort of murder Stephenie Meyer deserves to have acted upon her. We decided exsanguination would only be appropriate. And my mother came up with the brilliant idea that it should be by paper cut. One paper cut per page that she's had published.

Me: My teeth are numb, usy can we still stop be by suffer.
Me: One page by paper cut.
BF: What? I have no idea what those mean.
Me: I cant read englisjh!!!!

The other day, Boyfriend posted a link to a comic on my facebook. He just sent it to me because we both enjoy webcomics, but the website had a most serendipitous update between when he sent it and when I read it. It turned out to be an e-card marriage proposal. When I asked Boyfriend if he sent it as a humorous way to tell me he loved me, or if he was actually proposing, (We've discussed the 'somedays' of getting married and raising kids and being old together) he said the comic hadn't updated when he sent it to me, but he was very glad it had. That made me smile.

The closer I get to leaving the nest, the more I'm freaking out. I suppose it's natural, as this is a big step, not only for me as a person, but for our relationship. And we're ridiculously happy now, but we had to travel a very bumpy road to get here. Last night was a drunken flood of insecurities, and he weathered it like a champ (though, as the Bestest said last night, with everything he's put me through in the past, he's got a few years of putting up with me being an insecure bitch before we're close to breaking even.) Still, I don't like being a whiner, and I was a bit mean to him. However, after almost two hours on the phone with him, we sent a few goodnight texts back and forth. Primarily mushy stuff, but this one is funny. Mostly because of the Seussical ring it has to it.

Me: Also... I'm still drunk so drunk i will say, i want you to real propose someday. No comics. With a ring. Not an expensive one. Like, $15 sterling silver one.
BF: Trust me, I'll do something better than a comic.
Me: =) you've no idea that how happy makes me!!!!
BF: I plan on devoting a whole lot of my future to that end!

Good job, Darling, Gold Star.

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Today was a Do-Nothing Day, as my parents call them.

I call them, 'Do-Nothing-but-Miss-My-Boyfriend' days. I have them quite frequently. I know I'm turning into one of those 'My Boyfriend this, and my Boyfriend that,' kind of girls, but this is still new and shiny for me. Missing him is what makes me talk so much about him, and I miss him pretty thoroughly. It's quite understandable, though. When we lived in the same state and before we had acknowledged our romantic feelings for each other, we would spend four or five nights a week together, often starting the hanging out at eight or nine, and not parting until sunrise. We occupied as much time as a full time job would have. Sometimes more.

So now that we're completely open with each other and together, it feels rather strange to be apart from him. Especially since all of our time together has been total immersion. The only time we've spent apart when we've been in the same state is while one of us is at work. So you can understand the sense of longing and loss I feel when I'm away from him sometimes.

At Christmas time I said, "I think I know part of the reason I love you so much. Spending time with you is like being alone. I feel just as free and comfortable as I do by myself."

"Exactly," Boyfriend said, playing with the little tear in the knee of my pajama pants. "It's like all the good parts of alone time, with the benefits of a sexy friend accompanying you." (It should be noted that the tone of his voice, his body language, and the way he looked at me when he said 'sexy friend' left no doubt in my mind that he meant I was the sexy friend, not him. He's rather good at telling me I'm sexy or beautiful or clever or brilliant, right when I need to hear it most. Good job tending to my low self-esteem, Darling! Gold star!)

And it really is like that. I used to find it hokey whenever someone would talk about how lucky they were to be in love with their best friend. I totally get it now. I feel completely at ease around him, more so than anyone else. I didn't realize I felt stressed and anxious almost all of the time, until I was around him and just finally let myself relax. We're so in tune with each other that we literally finish each other's sandwiches. He told me one of the last days in Seattle, "It really is creepy how you always say exactly what I'm thinking." I just giggled and he elaborated, "And by creepy I mean awesome." and kissed me properly. The way I deserve to be kissed.

So after all of our visits, I feel this weird sense of incompletion. Like my intellect is hungover. I have trouble thinking or finding the energy to do much of anything. It's not even mental laziness, it's actual physical laziness. It would make for an interesting experiment, but I'd be willing to bet I couldn't run as far on a treadmill, or lift heavy boxes on days I miss him so hard it hurts, compared to days when I'm around him. It's really weird, and completely unfeministic of me, but true nonetheless. On days like today, all I can do is think about him. I get distracted whenever I try to focus on anything else. I'm not really hungry, or sleepy, I just am.

Here's what I should have done today;
-Cleaned the litterbox
-Cleaned my bathroom
-Unpacked/packed a box
-Practiced my guitar
-Worked on the band's website
-Written 500 words on my novel
-Eaten vegetables
-Called my favorite Aunt, since she just got out of the hospital
-Written a real blog

Here's what I did instead;
-Stayed in bed for four hours
-Ate a bunch of cookies
-Went to the bank
-Went to the post office
-Ate a Hot Pocket
-Watched Masterpiece Theater with my dad
-Got back in bed
-Played Mah Jong
-Haunted Facebook
-Wrote a completely useless blog
-And drew this useless MS paint picture;

This is what I looked like for most of the day.