A love story. Sort of.

I met Michael a while back, about a year ago.  I hadn't paid much attention to him, he's rather high maintenance and I simply don't have the time, energy or money to invest in Michael.  Still I coveted his company.   The mere smell of his skin was enough to send me over the edge.  I found myself intentionally seeking out his company, in public venues.  It was for my own protection.  The problem with Michael is it's difficult to be in public with one that others blatantly lust after.  And so I put Michael out of my mind.  And I didn't think Bill would approve.  So there's that.

But Michael came to visit.  And then stay at Christmas.  I began to feel like Gollum.  My Precious.  My Precious.    Ahhhhhhh, nobody puts Michael in a corner, or touches Michael.  I can't take Michael to Walmart, he'd be so insulted.     And that damn cat better not even THINK about getting near Michael.

So I had to start seeing Clark to take my mind off of Michael.  Clark doesn't mind Walmart or Target.  No one tries to steal Clark from me,  in fact woman rarely even acknowledge Clark.  Which kind of hurts my feelings for Clark.  He's so versatile and easy going.  Never pretentious.  Doesn't require any special attention.  Just always ready to go.   I love them both.

At the outlet mall somewhere in Destin

Me: ohhhh, I have to get a purse.
Bill:  I just bought you THAT purse for Christmas.
Me:  I can't take THIS purse into Walmart!!! I wouldn't be able to relax, it's not right.
Bill:  I don't understand, you said you loved that purse.
Me:  I do, I can't believe you bought me this for Christmas, BUT I'm not taking it into Walmart or some fast food place to sit on the ground. I'll never be able to eat worrying about it.
Bill:  You drive me crazy.
Saleslady:  Oh girl, I understand !! I wouldn't take that purse into a Walmart either.
Me:  Thank you!  I'll take that one, I think it's even on sale?
Saleslady: Oh girl, YES, it's marked down from 74.99 to 16.99!!! What a deal!
Me:  Perfect!!!
Bill:  You're all crazy.

Michael - tall, dark, handsome.   Clark - short, colorful, quirky. 

And more Adventures in MOG Land. Part 3.

Once the relationship took an ugly turn with the Spanx incident I decided to seek solace by having a manicure.( Seriously Pat, you don't remember me ?)  Well, this was more a preemptive strike against the sure onslaught of "MOM, you NEED to have your nails done BEFORE the wedding!"  After work I ran over to the local nail salon.  It was late and I was the only patron there.   I don't have my nails done on a regular basis, in fact I can't remember ......oh, wait, yes I do, it was last Thanksgiving and I got a lot of flak from my son because I had acrylic nails and they were really long and very red and I can't repeat what he said they reminded him of.   And then another discussion ensued over his opinion not being needed SINCE I couldn't get them off by that time.  Sadly his opinion was confirmed by his sister whose fashion sense I trust infinitely more than his. Which is why I text her photos of me in clothing or shoes BEFORE purchasing.  And you may remember how well THAT worked when trying to purchase the DAMN DRESS with a broken arm.  If not refer to the earlier post called "The middle part".

"Justin"  did my nails.  After confirming that Justin was NOT his real name, because I ask the hard questions, he convinced me that he could make my feet look just as gorgeous.  We shared a laugh.  Then he said he was serious.  And I was tired.  And the large comfy chair with swirling water was so so inviting.  And so I said yes, but I did apologize in advance for any seizures looking at my toes might cause him and the fact that I had not shaved my legs as this was completely unplanned.  His reply " No worries, I don't care about your legs, maam."  and I said "Justin" I'm Kelly and that is my real name."

The chair is a little intimidating, it's tricky to get in it without falling into the swirling  water.  I confirmed with "Justin" that people had fallen in before.  I'm kind of like an investigative reporter about crap no one cares about. ( this fact was confirmed by almost everyone I live with, including the cat. ).  I sat in the chair and he pointed at things he wanted me to do like put my foot here, move my other foot there, I think it was to avoid further conversation, but whatever.    And then he turned on the chair.  Hmm, this is nice.  Vibrating up my back and neck. Then the chair started moving toward him, suddenly I felt like I was about to have a gynecological exam against my will, this happened about the time he took a stone thingy and ran it across the bottom of my foot.  I burst out laughing and couldn't stop.  I'm thinking I am never leaving.  At this point I think we're officially engaged based on the proximity of my ......... to his face.  I'm talking very little personal space here.  

2 hours later....... our relationship ended.  I think it's the language barrier. I'll never be able to pronounce his name anyway.

Sidenote :   Best manicure and pedicure EVER!  Justin is an artist.  Seriously though that chair is crossing some line somewhere.

Later my family confirmed this was more useless information.  So I have succeeded.

More Adventures in MOG Land. Part 2 . Spanx

STOP IF YOU HAVEN'T READ MY EARLIER POST. GO BACK. ---okay then.

Literally one day later

Me:  Hi Pat!!
Pat: [stares at me like she's never seen me before] ummm, hi.
Me:  I'm backkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
Pat:  Can I help you?
Me: We bonded yesterday, I was the bra-ripper.......I'm back to get that Spanx.
Pat: Oh.

Clearly this relationship meant more to me.

I'm home with the Spanx

Bill:  HEY, did you just buy something at "Rhymes with Williards" for $92.00?  I just got an emailed receipt.
Me:  Yeah, isn't that great that I can email it to you from the store?
Bill:  yeah, great, whatever......what cost 92.00
Me:  My underwear, you know the Spanx so I can get in that dress.
Bill:  92.00..............?????
Me:  Trust me this is NOT an area we can afford to skimp in.
Bill:   Apparently not.

Adventures in MOG Land. Bring a compass. And wine.

As the wedding looms large this coming weekend there have been lots of "things" that needed to be addressed before it's arrival.   Most of them involve my body.  I have no idea why that's just how it ended up.

Needed:   New Bra 

Challenge:  Finding one that fits without actually trying it on.  ( I think you can see I'm going to fail this miserably) 

Site:    Local large department store that starts with the letter "D" and rhymes with "Willards". 

Person in charge of touching me :   Pat from SNL

Me:  Hi .....um,  are you the person ( I haven't decided if this is a her Pat or the other one) that can help me find the right bra? 

Pat: Yes'em.

Me:  Oh, okay, I like my old bra , do you still have this in stock?  The only thing I don't like about it is the back has a tendency to rip when I pull it down.

Pat:  [in an appalled voice] WHAT ARE YOU PULLING IT DOWN FOR? It's  suppose to be up that high .........that's why it's ripping, you're doing it wrong. 

Me:  Of course I am, why would I do that, I'm not sure I'm qualified to wear this anyway. 

Pat:  Well, bad news. That one just got discontinued.

Me:   AHHHHHHHHH, THAT'S MY FAVORITE BRA.....I ALWAYS BUY SEVERAL!!! WHY DO THEY DO THAT?  They discontinue my makeup, my mascara, my lipstick.  I feel violated.  And now sad. 

Pat:  I'll find you some that work.  Let me get the measuring tape we store in the deep freeze . ( I'm sure that's what she said)  

Me: [humming at the ceiling , counting tiles......hurry little woman person whose hands are tiny icicles]

Pat:  Hmmm, you're wearing the wrong size. 

Me: Good lord, again?  You'd think a grown woman could figure out what size bra she wears and not destroy it in the process.  I blame gravity. And Victoria's Secret 

    she scurries out to hunt down and bag the appropriate sizes and varying styles I already know I'm going to hate.
Pat:  Here's the "sizing" bra.
I'm not sure what these even means ----does the bra assign me size or  does it conform to my existing size,  is it like the Sorting Hat from Harry Potter.  "  Interesting....hmmmm , not symmetrical and unusually lowwwww.,,,,, [ it grimaces] you're in the House of Playtex.  Live with it.  [ Hard Hat]
The "sizing bra"  relegated me to exactly NONE of the cute bras on the end kiosks displays.  With wings and feathers and rhinestones the dig into your breastbone but you look so cute and like you're anorexic that you don't care.  Stupid sorting sizing bra.  Nope, I get sent to the corner of the store. The sturdy line.  The Sears Husky.  The Tall Shop.  arghhhh.
Pat:  Here's some.

Twelve tries in we nail one.

Me: Thanks, Pat.  I'll be back when Spanx are in season.  I need to bag one before the wedding.
Pat: Okey Dokey, want me to show you the ones I wear.
Me: nah, let's keep some mystery in our relationship.

Bill didn't find any of this amusing.  He claims I'm killing his fantasies.

.

Our Wedding

29 years ago today this happened.

I'm all smiles.  I laughed through the entire ceremony.

 My veil didn't make it to the picture taking.  My mom was still sewing on it as I drove myself to the church for my own wedding.  My dress I purchased off the rack on sale much to my mother-in-law's dismay.  In my shoe was $500.00 that my father handed me just as he was walking me down the aisle to pay for the flowers.   As I stood at the alter I looked at the flowers. Gladiolas. The only flower I asked them NOT to use.   They remind me of funerals.  So naturally that's what they used. That's when the laughter started.

 The day before at the rehearsal bbq my mother  introduced herself as part of the catering company.  At the actual rehearsal she yelled at the priest that she simply could not sit in the same pew as her ex-husband.  The best man whose one job was to gather music for the reception forgot.  "Celebrate" was the only cassette  the reception site had. Later when I looked at our wedding photos I realized the photographer, a personal friend of my mother in law, neglected to take any photos of my family.  Or many of me for that matter.  Almost all the photos are of Bill.  He does look pretty fabulous.  I can see why he'd be enamored.

Here's Bill with some laughing woman.  

We were young then.  I was 24 and he was just 22.  Both our mothers did everything to keep us from gettting married. From his mother's perspective:   I came from a divorced family.  Never attended college.  I would never fit in socially, intellectually, or any other "ly" with Bill and his friends.  My mother just never wanted me to leave her.  Ever.  Somehow things work themselves out. Maybe these are just life lessons that prepare us for our own children getting married.  Our son is marrying in November.   It is difficult to keep your opinions to yourself when watching your children plan their wedding.  At times I'm not sure I've fared much better than my own mother or mother in law but I'm trying.  Trying to remember that words spoken can not be taken back.  That words spoken leave a lasting memory.  Even if it's a small thing it can leave a big mark

Now when I see gladiolas I don't think of funerals, I think of all the good stuff.  The growing up and older together.  The lesson learned and lived.  That forgiveness is powerful.  That there are sides to stories I still don't know but just accept.  And in the end love wins.  It always win.  That's God's plan.  Love anyway.

And laugh.  A lot.

The Great Shirt Incident

First I'd like to say this wasn't intentional.

Friday night I received a text from my best friend.  It said " We have a mystery on our hands."

Her husband had to work that day but also had a doctor's appointment that afternoon so he took a change of clothes with him.  When he went to change this is what he saw.

 She went on to text " We have NO idea what happened. It was cut. Not torn.  1/4 of the back of his shirt is gone!

I responded with " Isn't that the shirt you gave me to practice sewing on?"

Breaking in my new machine 

the shirt I carefully hung on my chair. after surgery

Her response " OMG"

This is why men should hang up their clothes.  I never mistake one of my own shirts for practice material.  I have mistaken black bags of sweaters for Goodwill donations however.  Which is exactly how all of Bill's winter sweaters ended up being donated.  I couldn't tell the bags of old toys  from the "These are ALL MY SWEATERS IN THE WORLD  bag." when I was grabbing stuff out of the attic one day.  Or the time I was accused of intentionally leaving his suit at the cleaners and never picking it up.  In my defense I think we all knew it was past it's prime.  Still I am no longer in charge of dry cleaning.  I'm just heartbroken.
Men rarely find these kinds of mistakes funny.    But they are.

I did apologize.  I could sew it back on.  Next time I'm there .

Couch Conversations

A conversation that took place last month.

A commercial showing a guy fly fishing comes on TV.

Me: I'd love to do that, Bill we should go fly fishing!

Laughter breaks out from my son and daughter.

Me: hey, I can fish.

Katie: I've heard you can skin a squirrel too.

Andrew: poor Dad, he's going to be getting hooked, literally. 

Me: I CAN FISH.  As long as there are no snakes.  Do you think there'll be snakes?  We should just go when it's cold so there won't be snakes.

Andrew:  What about bears? 

Me: Bears? Will there be bears? .  I could shoot a bear, but not with a pistol I heard those just piss them off.  I'll need something bigger. 

Andrew: This isn't looking good for Dad. 

Me: I wouldn't shoot Dad.

Bill: Not on purpose. 

Me: NOT AT ALL, I CAN FISH AND SHOOT. 

Andrew:  Better make sure your insurance policy is paid up.

Me: What are you doing over there?
Andrew:  Tweeting.  Hey Mom, you're trending.
Me: Trending what?
Andrew:  Sh*t my mom says.
Me:  I hate bears.