happy endings.

I like Halloween, I like spending too much money on overpriced candy, I like sitting out on the front porch in a hoodie handing said candy out to all the littles, I like watching them run away with excitement, I like when my brother in law gives the way-too-old-for-this-shit teens a hard time about their lack of a costume and pillowcase bag, really? and you can't even say trick or treat? I like dressing up--reigning champ three years in a row say what? ladybug, glorious. bumble-bee, fabulous. Snookie, *insert your own jersey shore reference here* With Halloween approaching, at dinner one night I asked Lily what she would like to be. Her answer? a Christmas tree. After my eyes dried from laughing, I was all "really, Lily? a Christmas tree?" and she's all "yes, seriously." What? previous years ladybug and cat aren't up to par with your glorious idea of pine and presents? I'm not Chinese master sewer, where would one even find a pattern, do people really want to be Christmas trees for stuff? Yes, yes they do. Google is the answer to all life's questions, you don't know something about something, you google the shit out of it. Its like the holy grail of life, well to me anyway. Lo and behold, there are toddler Christmas tree costumes for a mere $49.99, complete with star, hole for face and presents as feet. Awesome. Just as I was really getting excited with this and all runnin' at the mouth with "think I won't order it" to my husband, she up and changes her mind. This is not ok, as unsure as I was about the Christmas tree idea, I really set out and embraced it and I just don't think I can settle for a bumble bee now. I will convince her and bring her back to the pine side, oh I will. Totally kidding, she can be whatever her little heart desires but don't think I won't leave the tree costume pictures all around the house covered in glitter to accent how freaking awesome it is.

I also just really like covering things in glitter.

We'd gotten two notices on our door from FedEx this week  that we had a package that had to be signed for. We thought by him leaving the notice that we could just sign the notice, put it back on the door and he'd swap the notice for the package. Turns out you have to sign for it in person. Problem is, he comes at 1:30, when the rest of the world is also, at work. We weren't even expecting a package so I got really excited, it must be a real treasure to need an in-person signature! My husband called to find out what exactly this treasure was and how we go about getting it, we weren't trying to drive all the way to FedEx in Fredericksburg for some mystery package that probably wasn't even for us. Turns out, it was for me! I love surprises! My excitement stops when they soon tell us, the are concert tickets. Concert tickets I ordered last Thursday for this Saturday's concert, I'd been expecting them in the regular ol' snail mail. Really? You need an in-person signature for Brad Paisley LAWN SEAT tickets? I didn't even pay for a seat, I stand in the lawn. Per the ticket company its their protocol to need someone in person so they would re-route the package to my work and mark it 'rush' and I should get it today. If not to call and they could give me a time frame of when they deliver Saturday. Awesome, I love coming into work on a Saturday just to sign for a package. This better make the $11 jiffy lube live beer taste like unicorns and rainbows 'cause I imagine that would be glorious.

I also just really like beer.

Random bits from this week:

People need not leave me in a waiting room for too long, self help pamphlets on being "addicted to porn" or "is the church leader touching you" make me giggly, thus making the serious meeting with a grin on my face, awkward. I laugh when I'm uncomfortable, thus making the majority of my encounters awkward. That's why I could never be a vagina doctor, or a butt doctor for that matter. I also have yet to get a bikini wax This has been on my list of to-do's, right next to paint the basement, for a year now. Take off your pants giggle, lay down and spread 'em wide giggle, rips hair follicles from my very sensitive area laughs uncontrollably. I wonder if they have experienced this type of wax-ee. I'm pretty sure they would talk about how awesome I am.

Warrenton has a 'happy ending' massage parlor. Seriously. One of my clients uses them and I know its an 'erotic' massage parlor because I did what was natural and googled it. Yep, I even categorized his expenses for the place as 'entertainment' so he knows I know. I'm slightly intrigued by it and slightly grossed out, but more grossed out then intrigued, that was a lie. I really want to know how you ask for a 'happy ending'. My husband suggested using the line "I want to blow some money...and a load" I almost pissed my pants laughing so hard, well, I probably did, when you have kids your bladder ain't what she used to be. Anyway, apparently $73 gets you a rub down in every sense of the word. And you know it ain't no Asian goddess givin' you the rub down, I'm sure its a little old Asian lady who probably can't even see which is why she's in this line of work anyway wearing a pair of rubber gloves, gettin' you down with the get down. I need to know, I feel like I need to send my husband in just to get the scoop and scope out the penis masseuse, not for any other reason than to tell our grandchildren this story. Hide yo' kids, Lily!

My weekend is going to be a good one, it's fat Friday and we're having pizza and watching Step Brothers at our best friends house and I'm going to spend far too much time Saturday curling my hair and putting make-up on for my once a year outing with my Brad Paisley girls. Have a glorious weekend, bloggy friends!

junk of the heart

I love September. The evenings are a little cooler, the jackets are a little warmer and the run around pace of summer, simmers down. You pack away the red, white and blue and welcome the wine reds and harvest yellows. Sundays consist of burgandy & gold, world famous nachos and football on the big screen. Pumpkin spice and apple cider replace Tahitian winds and watermelon.  My favorite cooking spices line the cupboards and the baking pans move closer to the front of the cabinets. The moments when its summer in the sun and winter in the shade.  Knowing that the holidays are just around the bend. I've made a goal to have more gatherings, invite more people over, enjoy the company of the people that we love the most. Big dinners and candles at the dining room table, or just subs and fries while being crammed together at the small kitchen table. I was acknowledged by my boss with a really sweet card and $100 bonus and we ended up spending every dime in one night on dinner and drinks with friends. I had intended on buying shoes or a new fall purse and my husband said, "I think spending the money on memories is better than a pair of shoes, don't you?" And when you look at it like that, its not just dinner and drinks, it is memories and memories, unlike shoes, you will have forever.

Lily's been on this "when I grow up" kick. Anything we tell her she's good at, she wants to be that when she grows up. "You are a fast kicker!" "I'm going to be a fast kicker when I grow up!" same scenario with soccer player, princess, drawer (artist of some sort I'm assuming), swimmer, doctor (I do like the ring to that one!) and dancer. I love that the possibilities for her are endless and that she has the drive to be something, do something, even if she's too young to realize what it entails, she knows she's going to be, something. I'm not sure when we lose that drive, when we settle for the monotony of the day to day. Maybe money hinders us, or certain life decisions, maybe we don't like change as much as we think we do, maybe when we have kids we live through their dreams and live through supporting any goal they may have. I still don't really know what I want to be when I grow up, I have ideas and thoughts and dreams and in the face of everything, in the face of life, the true dream is, being able to dream at all. I hope she tries every single thing she wants to be, I hope she puts her gloves right back on after being defeated and I hope she never stops dreaming. She inspires me to be better, to be something. She makes me want to re-think my goals and I realize it's never to late too start over, its never to late too chase dreams. Chase that butterfly girl, I'll be behind you the entire way.

It's rainy, I have my pumpkin spice latte in hand and Adele on Pandora. Have a good week, friends!

the friggin' preggo parade oh, & some real shit.

Shuttled Lily into her first ballet class, sans ballet or tap shoes so she totally rocked her first class in her DC's. It was as cute as it sounds. The little three year olds lined up in their pastel pink leotards, skirts and tights is probably them most angelic sight, ever. We waited with the parents in the waiting room while she came into her own element in class, never glancing back to see if mom and dad were there, we were of course, peeking in any change we got. Her class was to end at 5, so about a quarter till, the next age group started pouring in and along with that age group, were four pregnant moms, FOUR. I was stuck, in a tiny waiting room, with four freaking preggo's and not 'just barely showing' preggo's like, the baby's head may actually be crowing the cervix at any given moment preggo's. The freaking non pregnant to pregnant ratio was nuts, Seriously? am I being punked or some shit? Awesome. Maybe I should start drinking the water they have there, or just gouge my eyes out, since the first one I'm going to assume doesn't really work or I'd bathe in it, I'll go with the latter. WTF? I wasn't sure if I was in the wrong office, did I mistakingly end up at my OB's office? since I practically live there anyway. No, this was a freak case of the preggo parade somewhere that I least expected it. And the worst part will be, in a few weeks, all these preggo mom's will be toting in their newbies and I'll have to hear every single person "OoO" and "awww" over them. I will not be bitter. I will not be bitter. You know what would make dance class better? beer. I wish pregnancy was contagious, I would have rubbed up against all of them, in the most nonsexual way of course. The sperm would've been floatin' around that air I tell you what. Dear pregeth mothers of dance class, I hope all of your babies have big heads and you deliver vaginally. Sincerely, a skinny infertile who avoids you like the plague.

You know what preggo's can't do? Go to wine tastings with really awesome people. Be jealous preg's, be jealous. We met up at Old House Vineyards and spent some time with new friends, sitting out by the water and it was the most relaxed I've been in awhile. "Don't be afraid to fall in love. It's the only thing that matters in life. Fall in love with as many things as possible" I believe life is meant to be shared, the hard moments, the happy ones, every stage of life, every page in every chapter should be shared. We can reconnect with memories through people and each chapter has made you who you are. I believe I've been shown that people are brought into your life, exactly when you need them, whether you know it at the time or not, you are given who you need, before or after a crisis, before you're about to breakdown, before you're ready to give up, and each of these people have saved me from being everything I hate. Struggles make you strong, change makes you wise and the people I've met, are the wonders of my world. God makes no mistakes with the people you meet, with the people you fall in love with. I'm in love with wineries on Saturday afternoons with new best friends. I'm in love with sunshine on my shoulders and a really good rain. I'm in love with people. I'm in love with the smell of burning wood in the winter and sunscreen in the summer. I've found a new love in books. I'm in love with writing. I'm with love with songs that come on that take me back to a certain place, or person. I'm in love with laughter. I'm in love with with hearing 'mommy', even if its a thousand times a day, even if its being screamed. I have so much. I'm in, love.