So today marks my 5th wedding anniversary. Well, not only mine...my husband was there too. It seems weird to think we've been married for 5 years because in some ways it's as though we've been married forever and other times it still seems very new. For instance, when I'm screaming at him for not doing one damn thing when he spent the whole day at home while I was out busting my hump, it seems as though we've been married for an eternity and the thought runs through my mind that some things never change. Then other times we'll be out with some of his friends from work and he'll introduce me, "This is my wife Ali," and it seems like he's saying it for the first time. Of course I'm sure if you asked him he would say that being married to me is pure bliss and that his sole mission in life is to serve, love and protect me. FYI - I actually asked him, and those were his exact words. ;) I actually love being married and even though he drives me insane sometimes, (like this past week) he still makes me laugh my ass off and be thankful we're married. Tonight, for example, we went out for a fairly fancy dinner - I think the final bill was around $150 for the two of us. Now, I have been in a fairly foul mood with him the past week or so and although I was trying hard to be pleasant I found it really difficult to not throw the butter for my lobster in his face. (Oh god, that sounds terrible - but if it's any consolation I have never actually physically wounded him, nor would I, but some times he really ticks me off - doing typical man stuff of course.) Anyways, back to my story...so yeah I'm thinking about how I want to flip the table over on him and I suddenly realize "okay, this is our anniversary, no matter what kind of shit he's been in the past week, I should tell him I love him and try to be nice." So I look over at him adoringly, bat my eyes and whisper "I love you shy" (shy is an inside, downstairs and around the corner nickname we have for each other) waiting for him to, in turn, profess his love for me. He looks over adoringly, at my plate, and says "whew, that steak was awesome, was yours good?" I instantly grit my teeth and say "you $@#*er, I'm sitting here telling you how much I love you and you're thinking about this stupid piece of meat...I could kill you." In 2 seconds flat he puts on these sickly sweet puppy dog eyes and says "I love you, I think you have glitter on your face...but it makes you look like an angel" and then bats his eyes. I'm so baffled by the gayness of the whole angel comment that I just stare at him in stunned silence and then I can't help it, I start to laugh. It's this kind of stuff that makes me love him even more - he can be in the deepest crap and in the blink of his hazel eyes I'm laughing histerically and glad that he's mine. Men...can't live with them, can't live without them.
I started a new job about two months ago. So far the job is the best I could ask for; great work, great company, great people...except for this one creepy guy. Now when I say creepy I don't mean like he dresses all in black, wears his hair in his eyes, hisses at random people and waits for me around corners; but he is creepy nonetheless. The first day we met he asked me my name, which I told him, and then when I laughed at someone's joke he told me I was "twisted." So far, all I had done was say "Ali" and laugh, but he deemed me twisted anyways. And that's not the part that bothered me. What bothered me was the fact that he said "twisted" in such a way that it implied something dirty. From what I can recall it wasn't even a dirty joke, but whatever. Since then, this guy will come into the office where he's supposed to talk to the woman who sits in front of me, but even if he sees me working (or with headphones on) he will still try to talk (although I try really hard to pretend I don't see him) and when I finally turn my head from whatever I'm doing and take out my headphones and say "what?" he'll just say "I said you're twisted" in his dirty voice and crack his make-my-skin-crawl smile. Then I'm like "oh, okay then" and pop my headphones back in or pretend I heard someone calling me and head to their office. I try to be nice to this guy for the most part, but the truth is that the nicer I am to him, the more he hangs around. Today I was doing my best to look busy but he still managed to get my attention. He kept saying "smile" and I would say no (trying to look like what I was doing was terribly important and that the fate of the company was depending on me getting it done) but he kept saying it and I don't know about you, but I'm like a six year old when someone tells me to smile, or not to, I always bust out with this ridiculous toothy grin like someone that just huffed too much gas. So anyways, I'm sitting at my computer, grinning my idiot face off and thinking in my mind "just bugger off you creepy, freaky man." And he says to me "wow, you have a beautiful smile" and grins creepily and walks out. I immediately do the 'Uggghhh' body shiver, I couldn't even enjoy the compliment because he said it so stalker like, and then chastise myself for not being able to control my facial expressions. I know I should just give the dude a chance because he's obviously screaming for attention, but it doesn't help the cause that everyone at my work it telling me creepy stories about him too. One guy in particular always seems to run into him in the bathroom, where creepy dude insists on talking to him no matter what bodily function either one of them may be working on at the time. Sigh, what's a girl to do? Be nice and risk having this guy make me feel like I need to be hosed down everytime I see him, or give him the cold shoulder at the risk of seeming like a real biotch?
Okay, (imagine knuckles cracking and body stretches) let's get down to business. I guess since I stayed up late last night to try and figure out this whole blogging thing and into the wee hours of this morning to find a web address that had not been taken yet, I may as well try my hand at it.
I guess my first attempt will be about the fact that I kind of feel silly about not wanting any of my family, friends or most of my co-workers to know that I have this blog. Why, you may ask? Well I guess it's the fact that I want to be able to write about whatever I want to. To gripe, giggle, question or spout about whatever I want. I for one, don't want everyone I know reading something that could potentially hurt their feelings or force them to view me in a different light or just know things about me that I would just prefer strangers (wow that is a weird concept) to know. I may eventually break down and tell my husband because I don't like to keep secrets from him and if I'm complaining about something he did (or more likely didn't do) he'll know about it already anyways because he probably heard about it for half an hour previous to my blog entry. Now that I reason that out to myself, I think my husband would be a safe bet to tell, but for the time being it's my dirty little secret. Oh yeah, and one of the dudes from work knows because he's the one who convinced me to do it and had to spend his lunch hour explaining to my dumb ass how to even make a post. I intend on writing every weekday, weekends I am usually in a little world called "dial-up" and I tend not to have a lot of patience for the 15 minutes it takes just for the computer to quit screeching and make the connection. Now I know that at some point I will be logging on to apologize for the fact that "my life has been soooo busy lately" and think of every lame excuse for why I haven't blogged in the last 2 weeks, but I really will do my best to write as often as possible, maybe no one will even read this thing, who knows? But for anyone who actually does, I thank you in advance and I will entertain you to the best of my quirky ability. Adieu for now.
I’m a lover and a fighter. I’m extremely curious. I hunger for knowledge, but I’m hopelessly lazy. I have dreams nearly beyond the scope of imagination. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I adore curse words. I’m easy to read, yet amazingly complicated. Next to my daughter, belly laughs are the highlight of my day.
Essentially I’m a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, rolled in make-believe, dipped in immaturity, and sprinkled with sarcasm.