Tonight's Plans

1) Fight through Man Cold

2) Dinner at Jaleo

3) Taking Mr. Perfect to see One Man Lord of the Rings performance. Yup.

Blast Him!

Last week Mr. Perfect said, maybe one time, that his throat had a slight tickle.

Fast forward to today.
I have a full-fledged Man Cold.

Don't try to point out the fact that I'm not a man (as Mr. Perfect did), because someone in this relationship has to get the Man Cold, and it's clearly me.

Freaking summer man cold.

Speak Up

You know how sometimes you think something is off but you don't say anything because you are afraid of making a scene or looking silly?

Yeah, follow your gut.

Especially when you think the priest is drowning you baby during the baptism.

Jeesh.

Thanks to Coke Talk for bringing me this horrible news.

Painfully true

Me (looking around our room): What's our aesthetic as a couple?

Mr. Perfect: I don't know what that means.

Me: What's our design aesthetic?

Mr. Perfect: Oh. Tacky?

Ain't That Sucks*

You know what sucks?

Working until 11, then feeling kinda sick in the back of the cab on the way home because it smells like stale cigarettes and the air conditioning isn't on and you wolfed down a greasy Italian sub for dinner at work, and then finding out --after you get to your house-- that the cab doesn't take cash, you have no cash, your roommate has no cash and your boyfriend has a painfully close-but-not-quite-enough-$7, so you get back in the cab, choke back tears of self pity, drive to 7-11 and walk up to the ATM to find it.doesn't.work. but BUT they give cash back "$10 minimum" "minimum?" you say because usually there is a maximum but no, he says minimum and so you pick out some stupid gum and pay but the machine says $10 maximum and he is still saying minimum but hey, it's pushing 11:30 so let's not give a vocabulary lesson, and you head back home and hand over every single dollar you acquired in the last ten minutes and walk inside (FINALLY) and ugh. What is that smell? And it's hot. but you kick the a/c down a degree and figure the smell will go away or at least you know it will be gone in September. When you move out. not that you know where you are moving. where are you moving. and UGH! the last hour has not been so fucking great but then you change and wash your face and see him quietly (perhaps timidly considering your attitude) waiting and you laugh thinking about the text messages you sent him yesterday telling him that you hated him and the reasons why (1. PMS 2. he was home and you weren't 3. the rain that was hitting you as you walked home 4. he has slept almost 6 hours more than you in the past 2 days 5. it is hot out 6. I'm hungry.) then you see the little blue envelope and the best timed and perfectly entertaining letter from your pen pal and. and. and. a deep breath, shoulders relax and you let. it. go. 

Time for bed.

After all, I have to be at work early tomorrow.

*I actually know the person that, without irony, coined the phrase, "Ain't that sucks," and uses it regularly. It's quite catchy. I recommend it. Highly.

Picture of the devastation after this morning's 3.6 earthquake

For all of us who lived through it this morning...

Picture of the devastation after earthquake in the DC area:

Nuggets

1) There was an earthquake near DC today. Some of my coworkers felt it. Whaaa???

2) As if being super freaking hot and sweaty and fumbling around with my suitcase for my flight to KC wasn't bad enough this morning, the metro train I was on had to off-board after some of the doors wouldn't shut, then the door next to me opened. The door without a platform on the other side.

3) Speaking of commuting - tourists, what the HELL are you doing on the metro at 8a.m.??? STAY. AT. YOUR. HOTEL. Seriously. There is a reason that the tourist metro cards start after 9a.m. - because there is no reason for you to get on the metro before then.

4) Doing dishes right before you walk out of the house in the morning because you realized you will be gone for the weekend and, oh, this is actually your mess from dinner a few nights ago and it's starting to stank and dammit! well, it sucks.

5) I've had a recurring dream that I'm screaming at someone (same person each time). Telling them exactly what hell I think they are destined to reside in. Rather than be disturbed by this, I see it as a chance to refine my talking points.

That's a whole lot of negative shit. Let's switch gears.

6) SO excited to go to KC and celebrate the engagements of some of my favorite people - even if I've slacked and haven't posted pictures and stories (ahem - Melllllinda!) I'm super pumped to celebrate with Shea  (!!!!) and the other newly engaged (including Mr. Perfect's brother!!).

7) I attended a French maid race this week, and when they called for volunteers (they supplied the outfits) I did not step forward. Shocking. Growth.

Erin FAIL

Just realized, a scant 2 hours before Mr. Perfect catches his flight to Kansas City, that if I was really planning, I would have packed all my shiz in Mr. Perfect's bag so when I catch the exact same flight tomorrow I could roll up sans luggage.

Damn.


Also?
See you tomorrow, Kansas City!

File Under: Highly Offensive to Mom

Shared, of course, by K-did.
I find the attention to detail quite impressive. K-did called my attention to JC's tattoo.

Just had a realization that I've taken this as a joke the entire time, but it may actually be used as an anti-drug thing ... like, you're hurting not just yourself, but also JC?

Because He Cares

From Mr. Perfect

To  me

Subject: FW: Flash Flood Watch.

Don't get washed away!

-----Original Message-----

From:

Sent: Tuesday, July 13, 2010 3:46 PM

To:

Subject: Flash Flood Watch.

The National Weather Service has issued a Flash Flood Watch for the National Capital Region (NCR) from 6:00 PM tonight until 6:00 AM tomorrow morning.

Dislike

I needed to be at work by 8 this morning.
I woke up at 8.

Dude on metro reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. In his suit. Blech.

I've gotten three times as many "You cut your hair!" than "I like your haircut!"

Unmentionables.

Huge fucking case of the Mondays.

Work.

Blerg.

Working late.

Guy on metro asserting manliness through personal space usage. So. Annoyed.

Can't wait to vent.

Walk in the door.

Pots boiling.
Mr. Perfect cooking.
A card.  For me.
A bottle of wine. For me.
Huge exhale.

He made me fancy tuna casserole.
Laugh/love it.

What was I going to say?
The day is gone.

And I am happy.

He does this to/for me.

An EXTENSIVE Line

Yesterday, Mr. Perfect had some errands to run for work that brought him close to my office. Naturally, he stopped by for a quick smooch to say hello. It was super hot and I didn't want to just stand outside my office smooching so I suggested we take a look at the odd designs and molds the chocolate store next to my work carries.  


Because, why not?


I would say that Mr. Perfect found it odd to randomly browse a chocolate store, looking for the oddest thing we could (Chocolate floppy disk and mouse that said "You Saved the Day!"), but he's totally used to this shit by now. 


We happily strolled through the store, me gazing wistfully at high heels made from chocolate, Mr. Perfect checking out varieties of truffles. 


But then.


Ohhhhh but then.


Tucked away in a corner display I noticed mini paint buckets of chocolate. Ew. 


[Can I just say, all other kinkiness, general hygiene and clean up issues aside, there is no way that body chocolate can taste good at all. To stay in that liquid state - just like the cheap-o chocolate fountains you can buy - the chocolate has to be mostly made up of oil. Bleh. ] 


And next to those little buckets of goop, there it was. A small placard with a big invitation: Ask to See Our Extensive Line of Adult Products. 


Yes and Please. 


Just a brief moment after receiving that invitation, a woman behind the counter asked if she could help me. Why yes, yes, you can! 


"I would like see your Extensive Line of Adult Products, please. Do you have a catalog?" 


"No, there's no catalog, but if you want you can just come in the back and look at them."


I immediately said yes and started following her into the back room. 


"Can I come?" Mr. Perfect asked.


"Only if you don't get embarrassed!" was the worker's immediate reply. 


He assured her it was not an easy task to embarrass him (one of the reasons we work so fabulously) and followed us. 


In the back room, hanging on the wall, there were about 12 different molds of the adult variety. 3-D molds, molds for lollipop versions. 


Most of them were quite obvious. 
Boobs.
Peni (yes, plural). 


Some required a moment (her name rhymes with a woman's body part... Mulva?). 


Most were straight forward. 


Then. Then there was the one that defied classification. 


It was a rooster. 


I thought, huh, that's odd. I feel like they are being a bit overzealous in their classification of the - ahem - cock as adult. 


Then I saw it. 


The rooster had a penis. 


You know, just in case you couldn't pick up on the innuendo on your own, The cock has a cock. 


It was so. so. so. strange. 


And, in typing this, I have realized what I must do. 
At first, I thought I must return to the back of the store and take a picture of the mold.
Instead, I've realized I must order a cock(2). 


Hmmm... anyone have a birthday coming up??


Also? Sorry Mom. Uncle Frank. Insert Relative Who Feels Uncomfortable Reading About Me Shopping for Chocolate CockCocks Here.