Blindfolded

Monday, June 30, 2008

Ever since I came back from a trip to L.A., I'm all about sleeping with an eye mask. I used it on the red eye home and I can't believe I've slept so many years without one. I feel so refreshed when I wake up in the mornings now. When I pull that over my eyes, it doesn't matter what the BF is watching because I can block it out. It's an amazing mask, I tell ya. It can be anything from that stupid baby's voice on Family Guy or George from Seinfeld (I love Seinfeld). All the sound seems to fade away when I sleep with the mask now.

However, the BF hates it. He says it scares him because all he sees is this "freaky mask" looking at him in the middle of the night. It's not freaky -- it's an eye mask for god's sake. I figured he'd get used to it, right? I mean, I take up the entire bed and he's gotten used to that. I'm constantly running 10 minutes behind and I have champagne taste on beer money. All of which he has gotten used to in the last two years of our courtship.

But, I've been noticing that my mask is at odd places in my room in the morning. The other day I woke up and it was across the room and then it was on his side of the bed. Now. Let's think about this. I don't think I'm lunging this across the room in the middle of the night. Do you?

Clean it like Beckham

Thursday, June 26, 2008

I have issues with being a hard core cleaner. Or, at least up to my BF's expectations of what he considers clean with OCD issue. Well, apparently Posh doesn't clean like I don't either. (I eat though.)

Maybe if the BF was David Beckham, I'd close cabinets too. Check out this post from I'm Not Obsessed.

Burning up

Feeling bored? Sex the same? Maybe you should have sex for 101 days like these married peeps did. Or, you could try and do things together. Apparently, having fun together will cut down from the ridiculous divorce rate that we all know and love. OK. So maybe it won't cut down on that, but it will make you grow stronger as a couple. Swing dance, go sailing or yoga -- it works for these couples.

What works for you? Whether you have been dating the same person for four months to four years, what do you do and don't do together?

Me... we'll we all know how much I love the motorcyle. But one thing we don't do is work out together. Ever. We might take an ocassional walk in the metroparks but I draw the line there. Working out and running is my time to be alone with my iPod. I can sing to myself, think about anything and everything and unwind on my own. I look forward to that time. Plus, the BF might be a bit faster than me and I can't have that.

Juicy riding

Tuesday, June 24, 2008
The BF has this bike that he loves. Since April, he must've said, "I just can't wait until I can ride again." I would say he said it on a daily basis, especially if there wasn't a lick of snow on the ground and it was just barely starting to rise above freezing temperatures.

Warm weather to me doesn't really scream "let's ride." I can't wait to rock flip flops and open-toed sandals -- screw the bike. I could get a pedicure and buy all new sorts of sandals that I could only wear for three months -- maybe four if Cleveland is lucky.

Anyway, back to yesterday's bike riding trip. We have this thing with East Coast Custard. It might be the most amazing custard if you catch it on your favorite flavor day. Well, he wants to ride to the Shaker Square one and our friends ride in their Jeep.

Me: "What's wrong with Lyndhurst?"
BF: "I want to take a ride."
Me: "Well I want to ride in the Jeep and go FSBO hunting."
BF: "Let's just go on the bike."

I get annoyed at this point because I have to change my clothes and put on safe riding shoes, pants and shirt. I love flip flops -- I only have four months to wear them! Hello!

So, I head into my closet to grab my helmet and put jeans on. Then, I see my Juicy Couture sweat suits. (Editor's note: The BF doesn't like when I wear matching pants and hoodie because they are lime green, mango, yellow or grey. He thinks I look like a hill billy. I let him know that hill billies don't wear Juicy Couture.)

So, I throw on a jump suit and my new silver helmet and head out the door.

BF: "What are you wearing?"
Me: "A Juicy track suit."
BF: "Why can't you ever just wear jeans?"
Me: Ignoring that comment, "I have big hoops on too."
BF: "That's smart. So if we crash your earrings will dig into your brain."

Needless to say, we didn't crash and I was safe, comfortable and looking stylish. And, no, my thongs don't hang out of the back of my pants.

Meeting the Parents Part II

Well, I really thought I'd have more funny and awkward moments to report that I do. So if you expected awkward parental conversation, this post isn't for you.

Nothing completely out of the ordinary happened. The fathers talked about motorcycles, and I think the mothers talked about teaching because both of them are teachers. I sat between the dads -- more exciting conversation happened. I do remember the BF's dad talking about my cat and saying he needed to get laid. (Captain Jack is my hilarious cat who is in retirement because the BF is deathly allergic to him. I think he lies about how deathly allergic he really is. Can't medicine solve that?)

So, we enjoyed nice "summer" Cleveland weather, food at Gamekeepers and two hours of conversation. The parents have now met. Case f'ing closed.

Meeting the Parents Part 1

Friday, June 20, 2008
The joint parental meeting is tomorrow. The first parental meeting. To say I'm a little nervous is an understatment. I even made plans with a friend to head to Room Service to check out the store and go to lunch, and then just realized this morning that I have the parental lunch meeeting tomorrow. (Sorry Michelle. Let's do it later?)

We are taking both sets of parents out to lunch to meet each other for the first time. I figured lunch is perfect, right? I figured it's less pressure and less intoxication. After delaying it for months (maybe even a year), I'm finally OK with them meeting. Truth be told, I really don't care if they meet either way. The BF is comfortable with it. So I guess I have to drink the Kool-aid too. Besides, I've never been to the restaurant and it's gotten the seal of approval from the Cleveland Foodie.

I tried to find some funny commentary on the web from other people when their parents first met, but I couldn't find a damn thing. Nothing funny happened! Nothing? Not even a humorous YouTube video! Well, there's a f'ing sign if there ever was one.

Feel free to share your stories and here's to fun and interesting weekend to all!

Make- out no no's

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Kissing your girl friends = not cool. Although, I'm hooked on the new Katy Perry song -- I am. And, I'm pretty tempted to go buy the whole CD on iTunes but I haven't made it that far yet.

However, I hate girls that make out with their girl friends for fun. I really do. Girls, why do you do that? For attention? I have a solution for you -- get a puppy or kitten instead. It will pay all the attention to you that you need it to.

Really though. I've always been perturbed by girls who do this at bars. Guys will gather around like something out of a chugging contest and convince girls to do it. Or, playing as coyly as they can, they will start making out for whatever reason on the dance floor. Girls and making out immediately attracts every loser in the bar or club. Didn't you know that? Or, maybe you did, but those four martinis made you lose your better judgement.

As I'm remembering my college years, I'm trying to think if any of my friends ever made out. I don't think they did. If they did, they got a mouthful (literally) from me. You could always count on in it happening on spring break. Like clock work might I add.

(Editor's Note: Ohhhhhh, spring break. Don't you miss it? I loved planning our spring break trips. I will never ask that question again, "What do you girls want to do for spring break?" Damn you, adulthood.)

So, girls out there (especially in Cleveland), keep your lips to yourself or to the random guy at the bar who you think looks cute with his collar popped, spiky hair and puka shell necklace. (He's still probably a d-bag, but it won't really matter until the morning, right?)

Today marks the spot

Monday, June 16, 2008
It was two years ago that the BF and I made it official. (Applause or tears - you choose.) It was two years ago when I was the intern and he was the full-time employee that I just couldn't resist (this is his story, not mine). After many months of what I thought was "our" secret, our cover was blown to more than one of co-workers. (Here I thought no one knew we were "secretly" dating.)

In honor of this day, I'm not going to give a list of thank-you's for the past two years, but rather a list of your welcomes.

Your welcome:

-for dating you.
-for laughing at your jokes when no one else does.
-for increasing your sense of style.
-for expanding your taste buds at local Cleveland restaurants.
-for having an amazing, talented and beautiful girlfriend.
-for not being a head case.
-for riding on your motorcycle with you even though I fear for my life because you drive like a maniac.
-for not making fun of you to your face for your OCD with cleaning or your hair.
-for being neat and clean (Ahem).
- for not stalking/calling/texting a million times when you are out doing "guy things."
-for being hot and ambitious.
-for being BFFs with your friends (I think they like me more than you).

Now. Where's my gift?

Friday Fodder

OMG. Anyone, I repeat, anyone who dates this man in the future should just be laughed at, pointed at and even thrown a rotten tomato or two.

Not guilty? Seriously? He married Aaliyah at age 15 - doesn't that count right there!?

All I know is that I don't want to hear any remix to his ignition -- ever again!

101 days of pure pleasure

Wednesday, June 11, 2008
There's nothing like some early sex talk from the Today Show to kick off your morning.

In order to reconnect, this couple decided to touch, feel and caress each other for 101 days. The BF hears my TV and tells me to "take notes."

My question is -- what the F were you doing before? Apparently, not a whole lot. You know, kids, jobs and all that other non-sex stuff got in the way of the fun you used to have. (Can I stay 25-years-old forever?)

I ask the BF what he thinks about this challenge.

Me: "BF, do you want to have sex with me for 101 days?"
BF: "No, it's impossible. But I'll take oral pleasure for 101 days."
Typical male response.

So, 101 days. Could you do it? Do you want to do it? Is it impossible? Is it necessary? If you don't want to watch the clip, just wait because they are also writing a book about it.

MP -- it's your time of the month

Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Let’s face it. Men have some form of a period. Rapid mood swings and irritability all come to men in the form of the MP (male period.) If you don't believe me, read more here on the MP.

Sure, guys blame it all on the girls. We are "crazy" during that week, "evil" and the "way too moody" for him. But, what about men? They have it too -- just not in the fun form we women get to experience it at.

Here's the one where I don't know if this would apply to me --
If you want to broach a touchy topic…
Ask: from 8-10 p.m.

From 8 to 10 p.m. on any given day, he's watching Deadliest Catch, a movie or some documentary that's in HD. Just the other day I saw him watching some underwater sea adventure -- just because it was in HD. How do I compete with that?

I don't. I wait for one of my favorite movies to be on or TV shows (he hates E!) comes on.

Him: "You've already seen this shit about Lindsay Lohan."
Me: "I missed the last five minutes of the Daily 10, so I need to watch the whole thing through."

At this point, I can normally negotiate something if I change the channel. Weak spot found -- He can't stand the celebrity gossip.

Lights out

Monday, June 9, 2008
Well, Cleveland got its ass kicked by some thunderstorms tonight. It's amazing what three hours without electricity can do. Lots of Quality Time (QT)!

Friday Fodder

Friday, June 6, 2008
Here's an activity that's sure to turn even the most boring Friday night upside down.

Meet the Position master. Just scroll your mouse over to see some of the unique positions they recommend to try.

Cowgirl's helper. Standing wheelbarrow. Manchair.

Can I meet the person who came up with these names? Those don't sound like sex positions, they sound like a farmer's orders. Narm, did you come up with these?

Unapproachable my ass

Thursday, June 5, 2008
"That's because you are unapproachable." That, my blog friends, is a phrase I heard from the BF while he was courting me back in 2006. He would always point out that I was unapproachable. He even said that if he saw me at a bar....he never would've approached me. That I would've shot him down if I were with my friends. Ummmmm I don't know about all that. But, when I saw this approachability test on Cosmo, I couldn't resist to test his little theory even though I knew I was right.

According to this ever-so-scientific study, I'm an open people-person. I'm not the cold-hearted girl you don't want to to talk to. I'm the girl who stands in a social space, like a kitchen, and make myself available to chat with anyone. As a side note, people always talk to me. I know the BF thinks I'm unapproachable, but you wouldn't believe the people that talk to me.

Just the other day I was in Linen's and Things, this woman started talking about how she bought the perfect bed-in-a-bag, but didn't realize that the "comforter" was actually a duvet. She kept referring to the "duvet" as "nothing more than a sheet" and how "could anyone use that for covers." I tried to explain it to her but she didn't get the concept of a duvet. And, I couldn't get a freaking word in. Anyway, she preceded to tell me all about her bedroom colors and the bright blue wall she painted. I was exhausted just listening. But, my point is, I'm freaking approachable. So approach me, biatch.

That question

Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Last week, I finally made my way over to our leasing office to officially sign our lease. Thank god those people are flexible. I had verbally confirmed with them that we were resigning, but I was about two weeks past their due date of signing -- oops. I like the leasing agents in that office. They are, for once, friendly, know my name and my apartment off the top of their head. As the leasing agent is going over the paper work, she advises me that nothing has changed and to initial on every page and sign two other places. So, we are talking and I'm half listening/half reading the lease when I hear, "So.....no proposal?"

Me: I stop initialling and think, What the F is this!? "No, there's no proposal."
Her: "Really? I thought for sure you two would be engaged. He's so cute."
Me: Gulping, "No, we aren't quite there yet."
Her: "Well, are you going to marry him?"

Seriously. It was bad enough that I was going to have to face that question at the wedding I was heading to that night, but I was now getting asked the future of my relationship by the leasing agent. I've concluded that maybe she wants to marry him and has a definite crush on the BF. More power to you!

Now, can I get a month of rent free?

Hair dryer malfunction

Monday, June 2, 2008

Good Monday morning to me. I'm not one who fusses or complains about Mondays. Whatever. It's a freaking day that starts off the week -- this is nothing new people. Anyway, when those people who do complain about Mondays, I completely understand what you are referring to. Today my alarm didn't go off. Lately, I've been having issues with this alarm. In my head, I swear to god I set that damn thing and I must turn it off in my sleep. My BF thinks that I never actually set it and just think I do. Well, whichever way it happens, it didn't go off.

So, I hop in for my 3 minute shower (3 minutes my ass Jennifer Aniston) and I pick up my hairdryer. Let me back up. The BF hates the sound of my hair dryer. He often says it's the worst sound ever invented for a morning ritual. He has said this on a weekly basis since we moved in. See, he doesn't have any sisters so he never really got used to all the girly stuff -- lotions, hair spray, hair dryers, flat irons and hair in general. Although, he is obsessed with his own.

Anyway, I plug it in and nothing. Not a damn thing. No little buzz and then nothing. N-o-t-h-i-n-g. I hit reset on the machine and in the wall. I try the other bathroom and even the outlet in my room. Nope. It's dead and it's 8 a.m. on a Monday morning. I think the BF sabotaged me. Bastard.

But, I was still able to get into work before 8:30, wet hair and all. Reason #454,332to maintain short, straight hair -- even if your hair dryer dies on you, you won't look like you just rolled out of bed in the office.