5 years and counting....

Just Friends
That's what we said.
Far longer than anyone believed.

A dirt road in Mexico
That's where you asked me.
I said, Absolutely.


A Vegas gazebo
That's where we had our
"perfect day".

Five years later,
We're not just friends...
We're Best Friends.
I'd say Absolutely all over again.
And Vegas was just the beginning
of many "perfect days".

I Love You.

I'm GREAT on Road Trips....

Let me be the first to admit that I am a HORRIBLE passenger in a car...HORRIBLE!

Since a bad car accident I was in 13 years ago I just cannot relax in a car. For over a year after the accident I had to ride around with a pillow between my legs and the dash. I know that's ridiculous...I mean what in the hell is a pillow going to do if we crash. I don't think I have ever heard a paramedic say "Good thing she had a pillow with her...it saved her life." Regardless, it seemed to help me emotionally and I can thank the pillow for allowing me to get back in the car.

I think my husband, however, would argue that the pillow hasn't done enough to restore my confidence in driving.

So when we faced a 2300 mile trip across the Country I know that neither of us were looking forward to it.

The vet gave us some pills to sedate our dog and on more than one occasion I think Joel was trying to figure out a way to slip one into my morning cocoa. Not that I blame him, but in my defense he really doesn't help the situation.

Him: Wow, did you see that?

Me: WHAT?! See WHAT? (as I've got a death grip on the door handle and the dash)


Him: That bird.  Did you see that bird over there in that field?  It just swooped down and grabbed a mouse in its' claws.

Me: WHAT?! Are you fucking kidding me?  We are on a highway doing 75mph with semis getting dangerously close to us and insane drivers going 90mph racing by us...NO I DID NOT see a fucking bird out in the field.  I figure ONE of us should be looking at the damn road! Christ Joel, you're gonna kill me I just know it.


 I know he thinks I'm being over dramatic (I can tell by the rolling of the eyes and the big sigh) but for God's sake I think the least he can do is watch the freakin' road! Is that really asking too much?

So this is how most of the first 2 days on the road goes:

Me: (hanging on to the door handle the ENTIRE time) Ummm...do you see that car?


Him: WHICH car?

Me: What do you mean WHICH car?  That one up there that put its brakes on.  It's slowing down and we are going to crash into it if you're not careful.


Him: You mean that car a mile in front of us that tapped its brakes? Yes Dear, I saw it. I think we're fine.

Me: Well, I just want to be sure you saw it. You know it's important to anticipate what the other drivers are going to do. I'm pretty sure I learned that in drivers ed. If I had done that 13 years ago maybe I wouldn't have had my accident.  If I had only anticipated her moves I probably would have been fine. So I just want you to anticipate what the other drivers might do...okay?


Him: Yes Dear. (he doesn't sound very reassuring, by the way, I don't think he is taking my advice seriously)

The other thing that I do that is VERY helpful is that I spend the entire trip leaning from one side of the car to the other. I think that by leaning I will magically steer the car in the direction I want it to go.  He doesn't thank me for this help, but I know he appreciates it...I can tell.

So for the first two days (because of my help), we plug along without any major incidents and we are still alive.

THEN...THEN we hit DENVER!  We have to drive up in the mountains through Denver, Vail and other little towns.  I hear it's beautiful. I wouldn't know this because I was too busy having a heart attack.  People from this area drive around that mountain like it's the Audubon. Do they not realize that at any moment your car can plunge off the mountain and you will DIE? Evidently, this is not a concern to them.  Well let me tell you...it IS a concern of mine!

So there we are driving UP and DOWN and UP and DOWN the mountain, and I am trying to be very helpful in getting us through there unscathed. I am bobbing and weaving...grabbing the dash...grunting and groaning.  I look over at Joel and he is white knuckled on the wheel.

Oh Good Lord, if HE is scared I KNOW we are in trouble.

We come upon a tunnel. A LONG tunnel.  Two lanes..dark...people flying through the tunnel.  We are half-way through and what happens......the car DIES! It just stopped working. So we are now sitting in this tunnel with our hazards on praying to God that a semi doesn't ram us in the rear end!

Me: OMG..what happened?  Why are you stopping the car?  You can't stop here. Keep going.


Him: REALLY?  You think I stopped here? What, do you think I needed a little breather so I picked the inside of a mountain, 11,440 feet above sea level to take a little break?  The car just STOPPED.  It won't start.  We are stuck here.

Me: Stuck here? HERE?  We can't be stuck here.  What are we gonna do? OMG.. Joel we are going to get hit.  We are going to die.  This is how it ends for us. Dying in the middle of the Eisenhower Tunnel. I have so much more I want to do. I'm not ready to die..I Love you...


Him: Good God woman, get ahold of yourself!  We are NOT going to die.  Everyone sees us, they are going around us.  I'm sure someone will send help.

Me: Well just in case, we shouldn't drink the rest of our pop or eat any munchies.  We may need them to survive if we are here much longer. We need to ration our supplies, okay.


Him: Okay honey, I promise I won't eat another cheese doodle in case we need it later.

I think we are stuck in there for 3 days (Joel says 10 minutes, but I'm sure it was longer than that) All of the sudden the car starts.  We pull out of the tunnel and then get pulled over by the mounties. (I don't think that's what they are called there but whatever)  She tells us.. Oh yeah, your car vapor locked.  Happens all the time up here. Your car should be fine now..Have a Nice Day.


Have a nice day? We almost died on the mountain and all you have to say is "have a nice day"?  Now I don't know what in the hell "vapor lock" means, but if it happens "all the time" then maybe there should be signs posted or something. I mean Geesh..Joel was scared to death.

So for the rest of the drive I continued to help Joel get us to Southern California safe and sound.

Me: You see that car, right?  The one that is swerving a little.  I think she is probably texting and driving.  Do you KNOW how dangerous texting and driving is honey?  Don't EVER do that, okay.  Even Oprah knows its dangerous.  She has this whole pledge thing going on.  I think we should take the pledge, don't you. Okay when we get somewhere I can print. I will print off the pledge and we will take it.  But you see her up there , right honey?


Him: YES DEAR, I see her. We will take the pledge dear. We will do whatever you want. (I think I heard him say "shut up", but he swears I was hearing things)

Anyway...we are now in San Clemente,CA. It is beautiful and we are alive. I'm just glad I could help get us here safe and sound.  I always try to do my part.

It's in the Mustard...Of Course!

I asked for a "sign"...I needed a sign... Sometimes they come in the strangest forms...but they always come.


I'm sitting here feeling very "magenta" right now.  Anyone out there who loves the Golden Girls will totally get what I'm saying. For the others, it comes from an episode when Blanche referred to her mood as the color, magenta.


All kinds of feelings tumblin' all over themselves. You aren't really blue because you aren't really sad. You feel a little jealous, but you wouldn't say you were green with envy. And you might feel scared, but you wouldn't call yourself yellow. I hate that feeling, and I hate the color magenta.  That's why I named it that. (paraphrased but you get the idea)


Well right now, I am Magenta.

I've been looking for a sign to tell us that we are doing the right thing.  That leaving for California in less than two days is where we are suppose to be.

I feel guilty leaving. My dad's health hasn't been good for some time now and although he is doing better than he has in years, it still seems selfish of me to leave. I struggle with that.

My mom is currently out of town on her yearly girls vacation.  It's something she needs to recharge her batteries and something she deserves more than anyone I know.  I have to tell her today that we will be gone when she returns. It will be hard on her.  It will be hard on me.  It's just hard.

Our son is coming home from the Marines for a 10 day leave the same day we will be leaving.  We won't get to see him.  We haven't seen him since last Christmas and we've been looking so forward to some time with him.  He is stationed in San Diego and that is where we are headed, so we keep telling ourselves that we will get to see him when he gets back.  The only problem with that is, he told us yesterday that when he returns from leave he will be out on the boat for a month or so.

He gets deployed for the first time in Jan. or Feb. so we have been trying REALLY hard to get this job so we might be able to see him off.  Or at least see him more often before he leaves.  Now that we finally get to go, our plans of spending time with him may not work out as well as we hoped.

Still, in my heart I feel like we need to go.  The job is a great job.  Good money. And the adventure is something I look forward to.  So far, Joel's job has taken us to Saginaw, Cleveland, Washington State, Florida and Georgia. We've met great people and seen parts of our beautiful Country that we probably would have never gotten to do otherwise.

Yet, I have still been waiting for a sign.

SOMETHING to let me know it's time.  SOMETHING to let me know it's right.

Then, there it was....in a bottle of mustard.

This morning I was packing Joel's lunch like I always do . I made his sandwiches and put the mayo and mustard in separate containers, just the way he likes it.

As I put the mustard into the container IT happened. The sign.

PPthhhttttt!!!! ( <----- that's that farting noise a bottle makes when it's at the end...I obviously have no idea how you spell that)

The mustard ran out.  It was a bottle of mustard we have had since we got back from our last long trip.  I know it was from that trip because it was a Publix brand mustard bottle and we don't have those stores here. (Evidently, we don't eat a lot of mustard because we returned from that trip in December.)

But there it was...a CLEAR sign.

It's time to go. It's time for our next adventure.

How much clearer can a sign be?

We need to buy more mustard.

When I KNEW HE was a KEEPER...

There are moments within a relationship when you stop and say to yourself Yep, this is the person I should be with for the rest of my life. I've had many of these moments with my husband, but there was one night that he sealed the deal for me.

There is an annual Fourth of July party that we go to each year. It's a fun-filled day full of golf, swimming, food, fun, friends and alcohol...lots and lots of alcohol.

Seeing as we are very responsible people we take turns on who gets to be completely shwasty faced and who has the responsibility of driving home.

This particular year was my turn for the shwasty faceness. (spell check can bite me with the whole shwasty faceness..it's MY story)

Anyway...

We proceed to enjoy the day (me MUCH more than him) and when it's time to go home my darlin' pours me into the car.

I am incoherent and half-passed out at this point (which is soooo sexy) and I think I'm drooling out the side of my mouth.

Joel decides he needs to stop at Meijers and get some beef to grill because he's hungry. I on the other hand only need my bed. As Joel gets about 10 steps from the car he hears me open the door. When he turns around I am hanging half-way out the door and tossing my cookies all over. Some of which has hit the parking lot but much more that has ended up down the side of my car and inside the door jam.

I am sure that I look very special at this moment...thankfully, I have no recollection of this. Joel comes over, wipes my face off with some napkins he finds and then once I'm put securely back in the car he goes and gets his beef. (I guess my cookie tossing did not diminish his hunger)

We get home and he takes me inside to the half bath. He then goes back outside to clean up my car. When he returns he can't find me. I have now thrown up to the point of dry heaving and my hair is completely wet and disgusting from my head being thrust into the toilet.

He finds me passed out on our bed...nasty hair..fully clothed and all. Now at this point I am sure he is finding me completely irresistible.

He then takes my clothes off...takes me to the master bathroom and proceeds to give me a shower, washing my hair and all (awww...I KNOW, right) He puts me in clean pj's and lays me in the bed.

The next morning I, of course, feel like a truck hit me and someone shit in my mouth. I get up and go to the bathroom and when I come out my husband is smiling at me. I sit back down on the bed and in my most grateful voice say to him..."What the FUCK did you do to my hair?"

Ummm...yeah, that was my response after he took care of my pathetic shwasty faced self...what the FUCK did you do to my hair.

When he didn't punch me in the nose or kick me out of the bed I knew...HE WAS A KEEPER!