Seriously I've been busy, I swear.

Lots has been going on, I swear.

Here, look at our calendar for May:

And here's this June:

Seriously folks, I'm not avoiding you.

Lots to go over but because it's a lot I'm afraid I won't go into too much detail. So here's the list and a quick blurb on what I think of it.

Finished up Jew class. I now have a much better understanding of Judaism and can probably hold my own in an argument now. Weeee.

HER is slowly but surely finishing up her sonography class and clinical rotation. Which is great for her but even greater for me because that means I don't have to do as much around the house as she'll be able to do something other than study.

I've realized that my friends and I are real suckers for anything that involves a booze and outside. There have been 3 "drinking festivals" and we would have been to all three except we found out about the second one a little too late. I'm not all that big on drinking but this is probably the most I've had in 4 weeks since... college? Maybe even more than college. Dayumm!

Had a doc's appt who did a full checkup on me and glossed over my having a fatty liver and instead went with me having sleep apnea. I think the doc really really likes sleep apnea, she probably did her dissertation on it or something. But really, I don't drink a lot. If I'm not at a festival I probably drink maybe 1-2 drinks a month. Even when I'm at a festival I don't usually drink a lot. Oh well it's been a good reason for me to work out some.

Shavuot came and went and it is seriously my favorite Jewish holiday right now. YOU EAT CHEESECAKE! Fantastic. I highly recommend it.

There's some progress with the wedding (I think) but right now it's a sore topic. I'm sure if it's something I even want to talk about right now but I'm so annoyed/mad at MIL I've actually lost sleep on it. ME. I sleep like the dead. Anyways if I ever decide to bitch about it it'll probably be on here since I can't quietly bitch about it. Period. And my neighbors may have big mouths and even bigger ears.

So next time, if I haven't gotten over it you'll hear my gripe. If I have gotten over it and moved on you'll get something else that's hopefully more interesting.

Should have fucking eloped...

I found it!

I found it! I found the sword that I'm going to cut my pie with.

BEHOLD!

Look upon my mighty blade and feel it's power coursing through your big eyeball sockets and into your thinking putty. It's got a minty feeling to it doesn't it?

Yes my chinese war sword. Such is the blade that I am going to cut my wedding pie with. Yes I said pie. Why a pie? Cause cakes suck. Why this behemoth and not a normal knife? Because "chinese war sword" is the second most "me" thing there is out there; second only to "chinese war hammer eating computer." Now, to find it on sale.

I do this to HER sometimes

Well there WAS a video here where a person played nicely with a big manatee or seal or something. But it's gone now, youtube took it away. Bye bye.

Joke explainer:
You see this skinny lady lying there and big seal comes up and nuzzles her a bit and proceeds to just kind of roll around her and every so often goes back to nuzzle.

A Status Message Conversation.

Looking down my contact list and people's status' I found that it would make a pretty neat "back and forth" between two imaginary people; one way more cheery than the other. The following are my friend's statii in order as they apprear on my contact list. Is yours listed here?

I'm not here right now.
=)
Sigh...
Interview on friday!!!
Reese's with breakfast... I love being an adult!
Ugh... so much to do.
has a lot of planning to do :(
oh, ok
You cannot know the road, you can only commit yourself to a direction.
Saturday Plan: Drinks and Home Made Pizza combined with Sitting around and doing nothing all day. Inquire within.
Away.

One of Our Fights

Here's an example of a little stupid squabble we often have.

HER: Look! My mom learned how to save a picture from facebook and e-mail it to people.

HIM: Yea, so?

HER: Hey, it's my mom so give her some credit...

HIM: ....

HER: C'MON...

HIM: Alright, alright... credit.

[Later...]

HIM: Hey you know what?

HER: What?

HIM: I'm a better jew than my "Jewish all his life" boss! He broke passover kosher last Sat! I want props.

HER: Good job.

HIM: I also want props from your mother.

HER: Baby, my family stays kosher for Passover all the time, you're not going to get props from her.

HIM: Oh? Then she doesn't get props from me for downloading a picture and e-mailing it.

HER: Fine, fine I'll tell her later and make sure you get your props...

Holiday Hoedown!

If you don't know what I'm talking about this is a hoedown I'm referring to. The tune is all the same.



Alright, with that out of the way, HOEDOWN TIME!

Valentine's Day

My mother has a flower shop I try and go to help
I don't really arrange anything but I'll deliver to make a buck
I brought the fiance along and she did great with a yelp
When we found out at home that we were too tired to fuck.


B-day

I don't celebrate my birthdays because all I did was exist.
But my baby gave me something that I couldn't resist.
A basket full of goodies, which almost fell by chance
While squatting down to catch it I loudly ripped my pants.


Ann

We celebrate our anniversaries by never by being apart.
We don't really exchange any gifts, we just speak from the heart.
But this time it seems I got everything my way,
Cause this time we spent it watching American anime.


St. Paddy's Day

I honestly don't think we celebrated this day
All we did was drink and joke the entire night away.
I guess it's better this way cause it couldn't have been beat,
It really was better than cleaning a puke green toilet seat.


Passover

It's something like the fourth or fifth day.
Celebrating this holiday doesn't really pay.
For a whole week I can't have any bread or corn or cheese.
I think by the end I'm going to have 12 clogged arteries.

GUEST ENTRY!

It's April Fool's Day today so I'm hijacking HIM's blog. I'm who he affectionally calls "Seester" cuz even though we're cousins we were basically raised as brother and sister. Plus, being both only children, we're the closest things to siblings that each of us has. So... this past weekend I got to go visit HIM and his soon to be wifey in Baltimore. As always, I look forward to these trips because they usually involve LOTS of yummy foods. (And when you're preggers, that is a very, very, good thing.)

This trip did not disappoint in the food category, I was stuffed silly and it's amazing that they didn't need to roll me onto the plane when I flew home. What was surprising however, was that I got to see HIM and HER in action as a couple and some of the similarities between them and my own hubby and I are simply hilarious.

HIM did most of the driving while I was there and it was truly amusing to watch them from the backseat. Most of the time the conversations went like this.

HER: Blah blah blah...

HIM : WOMAN! Blah blah blah

HER: (Slaps Him hard)

HIM : I'm driving woman, stop hitting me!

HER: I love you, honey bitches!

HIM : Daww... I love you too.. blah blah blah...

I loved chuckling at these exchanges, one cuz they're funny, and two cuz it's like looking in a mirror. One time, someone almost pulls out right in front of HIM and he had to swerve a little. This made HER really nervous and the next thing you know, all her limbs shoot out in every direction to brace for the impact. Of course that motion caused HIM to freak out more than had the other driver actually cut him off and HIM just starts swearing. HIM then proceeds to reenact this flailing of limbs at the next light and the above "conversation" repeats itself. I, in the mean time, can't stop LMAO.

Well, since I don't want to completely take over his blog, I'll leave you with this... if you ever need a funny albeit gross story, ask HIM or HER about "tasting the rainbow". I promise you'll never look at Skittles the same way again.

Peas!

Someone else's sad story

Sorry folks. I have to share this one. I'll try and come back with something happy next time but this... I just had to share.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Yes, I Gas Dogs and Cats for a Living. I'm an Animal Control officer in a very small town in central North Carolina. I'm in my mid thirties, and have been working for the town in different positions since high school.

There is not much work here, and working for the county provides good pay and benefits for a person like me without a higher education. I'm the person you all write about how horrible I am.

I'm the one that gasses the dogs and cats and makes them suffer. I'm the one that pulls their dead corpses out smelling of Carbon Monoxide and throws them into green plastic bags. But I'm also the one that hates my job and hates what I have to do.

First off, all you people out there that judge me, don't. God is judging me, and I know I'm going to Hell. Yes, I'm going to hell. I wont lie, it's despicable, cold, cruel and I feel like a serial killer. I'm not all to blame, if the law would mandate spay and neuter, lots of these dogs and cats wouldn't be here for me to gas. I'm the devil, I know it, but I want you people to see that there is another side to me the devil Gas Chamber man.

The shelter usually gasses on Friday morning.

Friday's are the day that most people look forward to, this is the day that I hate, and wish that time will stand still on Thursday night. Thursday night, late, after nobody's around, my friend and I go through a fast food line, and buy 50 dollars worth of cheeseburgers and fries, and chicken. I'm not allowed to feed the dogs on Thursday, for I'm told that they will make a mess in the gas chamber, and why waste the food.

So, Thursday night, with the lights still closed, I go into the saddest room that anyone can every imagine, and let all the doomed dogs out out their cages.

I have never been bit, and in all my years doing this, the dogs have never fought over the food. My buddy and I, open each wrapper of cheeseburger and chicken sandwich, and feed them to the skinny, starving dogs.

They swallow the food so fast, that I don't believe they even taste it. There tails are wagging, and some don't even go for the food, they roll on their backs wanting a scratch on their bellys. They start running, jumping and kissing me and my buddy. They go back to their food, and come back to us. All their eyes are on us with such trust and hope, and their tails wag so fast, that I have come out with black and blues on my thighs.. They devour the food, then it's time for them to devour some love and peace. My buddy and I sit down on the dirty, pee stained concrete floor, and we let the dogs jump on us. They lick us, they put their butts in the air to play, and they play with each other. Some lick each other, but most are glued on me and my buddy.

I look into the eyes of each dog. I give each dog a name.

They will not die without a name.

I give each dog 5 minutes of unconditional love and touch.

I talk to them, and tell them that I'm so sorry that tomorrow they will die a gruesome, long, torturous death at the hands of me in the gas chamber.

Some tilt their heads to try to understand.

I tell them, that they will be in a better place, and I beg them not to hate me.

I tell them that I know I'm going to hell, but they will all be playing with all the dogs and cats in heaven.

After about 30 minutes, I take each dog individually, into their feces filled concrete jail cell, and pet them and scratch them under their chins. Some give me their paw, and I just want to die. I just want to die. I close the jail cell on each dog, and ask them to forgive me. As my buddy and I are walking out, we watch as every dog is smiling at us and them don't even move their heads. They will sleep, with a full belly, and a false sense of security.

As we walk out of the doomed dog room, my buddy and I go to the cat room.

We take our box, and put the very friendly kittens and pregnant cats in our box. The shelter doesn't keep tabs on the cats, like they do the dogs.

As I hand pick which cats are going to make it out, I feel like I'm playing God, deciding whose going to live and die.

We take the cats into my truck, and put them on blankets in the back.

Usually, as soon as we start to drive away, there are purring cats sitting on our necks or rubbing against us.

My buddy and I take our one way two hour trip to a county that is very wealthy and they use injection to kill animals.

We go to exclusive neighborhoods, and let one or two cats out at a time.

They don't want to run, they want to stay with us. We shoo them away, which makes me feel sad.

I tell them that these rich people will adopt them, and if worse comes to worse and they do get put down, they will be put down with a painless needle being cradled by a loving veterinarian. After the last cat is free, we drive back to our town.

It's about 5 in the morning now, about two hours until I have to gas my best friends.

I go home, take a shower, take my 4 anti-anxiety pills and drive to work.. I don't eat, I can't eat. It's now time, to put these animals in the gas chamber. I put my ear plugs in, and when I go to the collect the dogs, the dogs are so excited to see me, that they jump up to kiss me and think they are going to play.

I put them in the rolling cage and take them to the gas chamber. They know. They just know. They can smell the death.. They can smell the fear. They start whimpering, the second I put them in the box. The boss tells me to squeeze in as many as I can to save on gas. He watches. He knows I hate him, he knows I hate my job. I do as I'm told. He watches until all the dogs, and cats (thrown in together) are fighting and screaming. The sounds is very muffled to me because of my ear plugs. He walks out, I turn the gas on, and walk out.

I walk out as fast as I can. I walk into the bathroom, and I take a pin and draw blood from my hand. Why? The pain and blood takes my brain off of what I just did.

In 40 minutes, I have to go back and unload the dead animals. I pray that none survived, which happens when I overstuff the chamber. I pull them out with thick gloves, and the smell of carbon monoxide makes me sick. So does the vomit and blood, and all the bowel movements. I pull them out, put them in plastic bags.

They are in heaven now, I tell myself. I then start cleaning up the mess, the mess, that YOU PEOPLE are creating by not spay or neutering your animals. The mess that YOU PEOPLE are creating by not demanding that a vet come in and do this humanely. You ARE THE TAXPAYERS, DEMAND that this practice STOP!

So, don't call me the monster, the devil, the gasser, call the politicians, the shelter directors, and the county people the devil. Heck, call the governor, tell him to make it stop.

As usual, I will take sleeping pills tonight to drown out the screams I heard in the past, before I discovered the ear plugs. I will jump and twitch in my sleep, and I believe I'm starting to hallucinate.

This is my life. Don't judge me. Believe me, I judge myself enough.

Rednecks and Snow Storm Stories.

Rednecks being useful in snow storms.

This isn't my story but HER ain't going to post it so I'll tell my interpretation of it. We got a snow storm. A few of them actually, all within 2 weeks. Fucking thing was record breaking. The night before it all hits HER goes out with some friends to a hockey game. I didn't go because there was only one ticket available and HER has never gone to a hockey game so she went and I stayed home and played on my computer. During the game the "lily white hell" slowly came down and painted everything in about foot and a half of cold imported polar bear tears.

I hear it was a miracle that they made it from the game to our friend's house alive.

Once there however winter's revenge kept coming and the snow piled higher and higher. Apparently HER was going to be stuck where she was until some of this white "holy fuck" could be contained somewhat. She had a good time there don't get me wrong, but apparently she would have rather be snowed in with me because she loves me or something like that. I on the other hand couldn't give a damn what was going on outside so long as I had power and I could still tinker with my computers.

Eventually however HER found her white knight in the shape of a redneck with a huge truck with tires that must have eaten smaller cars for breakfast. The truck might as well had the license plate: "SNW RAPE" cause that's apparently what it did. The very nice redneck apparently was one of those people who would drive doctors and nurses to and from hospitals in this kind of scenario, so you know, they could save lives. HER asked if he could take some time out in saving lives to drive her home and he agreed. What a guy.

Rednecks being useless in snow storms.

Now that HER was back we were able to be together and wait for the white crap to stop falling from the sky. Because we (and by "we" I mean "nearly entirely her") had to shovel out our drive way and eventually make it BACK to the friend's house to get her car back. Why didn't I do the shoveling? Why did I let her do all the shoveling? Because "outside" is her job, that's why you sexist pig. ^_^

Eventually we were able to make it to the friends house so the whole process of shoveling and trying to get a car out of a one lane dead end street could begin. This time I did do some shoveling. We were eventually able to get the car out of the parking space but not down the street due to the really icy and inconsistent nature of how the street was/wasn't plowed. Unfortunately there was a guy (Redneck 2) who was further in the dead end, trying to get out. Redneck 2 also had a big ass truck with the traditional redneck emblem; a US flag (and eagle) mural around his back windshield. This one however was less than helpful as when he saw us (and it was hard not to as we were in his way) he just got out of his truck and stood there and watched us shovel the street.

Now granted, I wasn't expecting him to help. Well, actually I was but I don't think he was morally obligated to help. Had he did it would have been nice and he would have been on his way a whole lot sooner but I would not hold it against him if he did not help us. What I do hold against him (because I'm just that kind of hateful muthafucker) is that he left his truck on. So we had to shovel the road in his truck exhaust while the bastard stood there, smoking a cigarette, wearing a cowboy hat while holding his ridiculously big belt buckle. Please sir, at least sit inside your truck and enjoy the heat that is being generated by your useless burning of your gas, OR turn off your truck, save some gas and go back inside and check to see if we're done. Nope you just wanted to watch as we shoveled snow in you truck exhaust. Thanks dude. ..::cough::.. ..::hack::..

>>>>>>>>>

So as it turns out this years winter weather adventures have not really changed my outlook on rednecks. I believe we have broken even. So the status stays at "Will laugh at but probably have no interest talking to" until my next interaction with a fella of that particular flavor.

Dun da Da!!!!! HER is POSTING!!

Ok, So HIM has mentioned a few bazillion times recently that it would be nice if I posted something to OUR blog - so here I am finally. However, I must set some rules. So listed below are the rules for HER Posts!
1st - I HATE writing! I don't like it - it's a tedious activity for me.
2nd - I'm BAD at writing - it's embarrassing but I never developed good grammatical skills or nifty witty ways of wording things.
3rd - It's tedious for me - I mean I can talk to much faster then I can type - so if you wanna talk to me feel free - I'd much rather then type.
4th - With all the above things true it's easy to see how I could find doing laundry, cleaning the kitchen, shoveling the 30inches off snow outside, or studying for my next big test more important then sitting down and typing a contribution to our blog.
5th and Last - I never know what to type. I feel like it's stupid stuff then really no one cares about. So why would I torture all of you with some long entry about deciding between brown and teal for brides maid dresses - when even I don't care that much.

So there is my first blog in a long time - hehehe hope it was enjoyable or at least a good excuse. The two things I thought up to write about are listed below - to remind me the next time I'm willing to sit down and type.

- Why this whole wedding thing is not my fault at all - arghhhh stupid wedding planning

- My big snow adventure

P.S. Don't be surprised if all my entries are this short - remember I hate writing so feel luck that I wrote anything at all.

Chuppah Coming Along

Here's our little art project. I think it's maybe... a quarter done?

One Month Later...

If you read the last three posts I wrote in order, you can kind of see the ebb and tide of me getting pissed off at something, cooling off, doing something to distract myself, being reminded of it and getting pissed off again, cooling off then venting about it after I cooled off some. I thought it was very neat.

Anyways a little more than a month after things reached "Fuck-it" point we've started on making our chuppah. Things are going along rather smoothly and I'm sure pictures will be coming soon. Now if I can only get HER to get on here and talk about wedding invite shopping and respond to what I've written. Wouldn't it be nice to hear her side of the story?

So do you mind if I grab a pillow for my knees while I bend down to kiss your ass?

One of the bad traits that I have (and there are quite a few) is that I'm a prideful son of a bitch. And while I have no problem doing a song and dance for the enjoyment of others it's always on my own terms and was a decision I made. What I don't like doing and you can either blame this on me being a stubborn bastard, a loud bastard, or just a plain ol' bastard (some of my other less than fine traits), is doing a song and dance to someone else's tune and at their beck and call.

So when I hear that we are giving up on the wedding and just letting Mother-in-Law have free reign, I flipped the fuck out. Actually I would have flipped the fuck out except I had to stay in check so I could comfort HER. She was having a bit of a rough time because due to the nature of the situation and the way she and her mother is, she was just being bombarded with just tons of emotions and worry. First there was the worry that she would alienate her mother, then there was the worry that I wouldn't get along with her because of this. Add to that the feeling of failing to stand up for your future husband, the frustration of not getting what you wanted and planned for, and fighting battles on two fronts and you kind of get how she felt.

What I wanted to do was flip the fuck out and call out Mother-in-Law on the bullshit she's trying to pull and how miserable she's making HER but, to be honest, I'm probably also doing the same thing (though hopefully not nearly as bad). Mother-in-Law is the type of person who would (and recently had...) a falling out with a long time friend over something as trivial as inviting HER and her friends out for a spa session, and all that would just make things worse for HER. So I decided to practice my humanity and keep my cool. Lots of counting to 10 and deep breaths.

So why was I worked up so much? You have to understand that the Jewish religion while not something that is entirely alien to me is still filled with strange customs and justifications for things that just doesn't make sense to me. That, and leading up to this Mother-in-Law is worried to death that HER is becoming more and more Chinese and therefore less and less Jewie (I guess). So in her crusade in keeping her child Jewish she has stomped down every notion of Chinese anything at every turn. "What's that? HER is learning Chinese?! Why doesn't HIM learn Hebrew?" You know why? Cause none of you fucking SPEAK HEBREW! Sure Mother-in-Law speaks tons of languages but Father-in-Law and HER can't speak anything other than bad English. You know who speaks Chinese? Every single member of my family (some only speak Chinese), and a fifth of the entire fucking world, more importantly our kids are. Yes, our Jewish fucking kids are going to know how to speak Chinese. AND, (understand I'm not even covering all the shit that I want to say...) AND just cause you feel like you failed in raising a Jewish child does not give you a right to stomp on my culture like it's dogshit that you had the misfortune of failing to notice.

I could say none of this and had to just sit there and take it or pretend that I didn't hear that shit because I had to keep the peace for HER's sake. And now, for the sake of peace; the child who cried the most is getting their way and the person easier to deal with gets shafted. I can't stand when that shit happens, all the less when it's happening to me. ME. Fuck that. And now I have to swallow all that and dance to some silly jig because some person from somewhere felt some significance to some event that makes it alright for certain people to crap on the dancing monkey's culture. Right... Where's my goddamn bacon?

Well it turns out that keeping cool (even though I did sort of unleash back there - and boy it felt good to) actually paid off a bit. Why? Because I didn't have to kirk out on someone. HER got, found, grew or just plain fucking stole and "pair of stones" somewhere and stood up to her mother. She sent out an e-mail that not only organized everything but set limits to responsibilities of others and who has final say on what. It was a very effective e-mail and I'm very proud of her for making it. Of course this was exactly what I wanted to do 10 months ago but props still go to where they are deserved.

Not the story I was going to tell but it's the one you're getting.

You've no idea the amount of fire and brimstone I was going to rain down on this blog due to the stuff that had recently went down. However to HER's credit she really did do a good job on handling the situation and let's all hear it for taking a moment to cool off before doing things one might regret, though usually I don't regret the things I do.

Anyways, happy new year. Ok with that out of the way let me explain what the hell it is exactly that I'm talking about.

When we first got engaged and started to think about planning a wedding I gave HER two options. 1) I do what I have been advised to do which is let her and her mother plan the whole thing and only pretend to care about every third thing so that she would feel like I gave a damn about the event in which I was to be married in OR 2) we both had equal say in the wedding. She chose option to and to her credit she really meant it. I wanted some wild things too. I didn't want a cake (because fuck cake), I wanted a wedding pie. I wanted to cut that pie with a sword that I would carrying around the entire ceremony and like a dozen other things that would just be crazy and unique. Isn't my girl awesome?

Well then things got to her mother and that's when shit just got formal... and boring... and stressful. Not stressful for me per-say because I was never really allowed to discuss such matters with the mother in law. HER knows me too well as well as her mother so naturally she didn't want us two to get into it cause well... I already introduced the mother in law.

The fecal matter really hit the oscillating wind generator when after a year of fighting (mostly between HER and her mother) and crying (mostly HER to me) that it got to the "fuck it point." The "fuck it point" if you weren't able to deduce is the point of which the realization of the goal no longer is worth the amount of effort to obtain it happens. HER was at that point and I, being her future husband could only support her decision.

Oh how pissed I was...

To be continued...