Once upon a time, about 4 or so years ago, my 4-year old niece was helping me browse in Marshall's. She pointed to a shirt, told me it was cute, and I asked if she thought her mom, my sister, would like it. "Umm, it's cute, but it's not my mama's style." Ever since then, anything that I don't quite like "is not my mama's style." I tell you that to tell you this. For a while I have been ready to get rid of our living room furniture. I'm incredibly grateful to have it, as it was given to us in good condition for the low, low cost of FREE. Me likey the free stuff. However, "it's not my mama's style" and Patrick and I agreed we'd like to eventually have furniture because we like it and not just because it was $0.00. Well, big news on that front. Hold the phone, hit pause on your walkman (oh, you have a discman? Pardon me!), and listen to this: We bought a couch! Oh, silly you. You thought I was going to s...
Today is the 2nd anniversary of the biggest party Patrick and I have ever thrown. Also, the day we got married. Also, the day I ugly-cried in front of roughly 180 people. For some of you seasoned vets, the idea of just two years of marriage makes you say, "Aww, how sweet, still newly weds. They have no idea..." I'd like to respectfully pooh-pooh the idea that we're naive just because we're still so newly wed. Because how could we be but otherwise? Until the future arrives, knocks on our door, and politely introduces itself, we're all naive as to what's in store for us. I'm sure bad times will come for us, as they inevitably do, but I count myself blessed that we'll have several solid years of happiness under our belts to help buoy us through whatever storms come our way. So, no, we don't have any idea what we're in for. But one idea I'm very, very clear about? My old (young) man is my number 1 favorite thing on this planet. ...
One day last week, as I was leaving work, Bruno Mars' song "Gorilla" came on the radio. This song is super popular and catchy. And super raunchy. Talking about legs in the sky and making love like gorillas and stuff. So inapprop. Before last week, I just thought of it as such--a raunchy, albeit catchy, song. Since two Saturdays ago, however, I can only think of one thing: actual gorillas doing it. Everyone has told me lately to enjoy sleeping in while I can. So, naturally, I wake up before 7:00 on Saturdays--my one day to sleep in--so that Lizzie can have breakfast and the pleasure of my company. She insists, and I cave. (Perhaps I'll be a bad parent. "You want Oreos and Kool-Aid for breakfast? Okay. If you insist.") Anyway. I'm going to tell you something I'm positive you don't need to be told at all. There isn't much to watch on the major networks at 7am on a Saturday. After flipping through the channels repeatedly that morning, I fin...
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