All day today I thought about this great dinner I was going to make and how I was going to take pictures! and then blog about it! Unfortunately, when I got home from working out, I was pretty hangry and thought that taking all those pictures might cut into my eating time, so I decided against it. It’s probably a good thing, though, because just as dinner was ready, I burned the HOLY SCHNIKES out of my hand. Tears were shed and I’m not gonna lie, there might have even been a wail or two. A tip for all you pseudo-chefs out there: Pans that have been in a 375 degree oven for twenty minutes? Yeah, they’re hot. Don’t touch them.
I’m home!
In case you’ve been wondering where I’ve been the past week, well, I’ve been in Washington, D.C. Weren’t you just there, like, a month ago, you ask? Why yes, yes I was! And what’s even better is that the two times I’ve been there this year have been the two times they’ve had blizzards! I am so lucky.
Anyway, now I’m back to the nice weather (except I heard it’s supposed to rain this weekend???) and normal-ish blog posting will resume.
Happy Friday!
Aaaaaand action
Scene: Chris and I watching The Millionaire Matchmaker this morning.
Chris: I’m going to start a business…It will be called Gold-Diggers’ Paradise.
Me: Oh yeah?
Chris: Yeah, and on every date, the guy will have to take a girl shopping and then get her drunk.
Me: Really?
Chris: Yeah, and guys will have to spend at least five thousand dollars on their date and then the girls will have to have sex with them.
Me: Aaaaand now you’re in the escort business.
A little Q and A
I’m not usually a fan of being tagged or memes (what exactly is a meme, anyway?), but I saw this one over on dooce and figured, well, if dooce is doing it, then we all have to do it, right? Plus, well, I’m bored. So to cure my boredom, and obviously yours too, here’s a little something-something about me and the dude I spend my evenings and weekends with…
What are your middle names?
Michal and Jason.
How long have you been together?
Almost two years.
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
About six days. Not. Kidding. We met on the evening of Saturday, March 24, 2007, saw each other again on Friday, March 30, 2007, and have been inseparable ever since.
Who asked whom out?
I emailed Chris with my phone number; he called me later that day and did the actual asking out.
How old are each of you?
I just turned 26 and Chris is 27-going-on-28.
Whose siblings do you see the most?
His.
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
The situation that occurs at least once a week, when I have to remind Chris that I have watched hours upon hours of Trucks!, Horsepower TV, X-Treme 4×4, Muscle Car, and Overhaulin’ and if he could just stop hrumph-ing his way through my ONE episode of The Real Housewives of Orange County, I’d really appreciate it.
Did you go to the same school?
No. I graduated from San Diego State University and Chris graduated from Washington State University. I’m looking at our degrees on the wall right now. Mine is prettier.
Are you from the same home town?
No. I grew up in the tony hamlet (hah) of Bakersfield, California. Chris grew up in about 14 different cities in Washington and Oregon.
Who is smarter?
I think we’re equally smart, but in different ways. For example, Chris can figure out percents and I know where to put a comma.
Who is the most sensitive?
Cancers are known to be more sensitive than Aquarians. I’ll let you guess which is which.
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
We frequent a little place up the street called The Venetian. They have a full bar and the best calamari strips ever.
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Either Seattle or Puerto Vallarta, whichever is further…
Who has the craziest exes?
I have never met any of Chris’s exes, nor has he met any of mine, so I cannot say whose are crazier…And that’s probably a good thing.
Who has the worst temper?
Chris is a very patient person. No really, I think he worked out all his rage issues by beating up on his younger brothers. Meanwhile, I was busy playing with my imaginary friends.
Who does the cooking?
I am absolutely not too proud to say that Chris and I are awesome cooks. Come over for dinner and we’ll prove it to you. Don’t forget to bring the booze!
Who is the neat-freak?
Anyone who’s known me for, umm, a second, knows that I am a teensy bit OCD. However, I am not alone. The first time I ever changed a roll of toilet paper at Chris’s old place, he asked me if I meant to put the roll on “that way” or not. I told him, yes, I meant to put the roll on “that way,” because “that” is “the way” the roll is supposed to go on. He was satisfied with my answer, but told me later that if it had been a mistake, he would have shown me “the way” to put the roll on. In case you’re wondering, “the way” to put the roll on is so that the flap comes over the front, not from the bottom. If either Chris or I go to your house and it’s on wrong, you better believe we’re switching that shit around.
Who is more stubborn?
Not me.
Who hogs the bed?
Chris sleeps right on the edge of the bed, which obviously leaves me no choice but to take up the rest of the space.
Who wakes up earlier?
Chris does not sleep. So him.
Where was your first date?
Lucy’s. A bar. More specifically, the bar we met at. Six days after we first met there.
Who is more jealous?
If either Chris or I ever showed signs of jealousy, we’d bitch-slap a little common sense into that person. Jealousy is the biggest waste of energy ever.
How long did it take to get serious?
Not long. I think after ten days I told him I thought we were going to get married. How absolutely gay of me.
Who eats more?
I do.
Who does the laundry?
Chris changes the oil in my car. The least I can do is the laundry.
Who’s better with the computer?
Not me.
Who drives when you are together?
Chris, absolutely. It is because of this that I’m a little on edge when I have to drive myself at night.
Alright, I did it! Now you – yeah you – do it too!
You know what bugs?
That one commercial that’s running right now, for Match or eHarmony or some such nonsense, where the girl says, “I promise to always take out the recycling, even though you’re better at it” and the dude says, “I promise never to take myself too seriously.”
Umm, excuse me?
First of all, how is someone “better” than someone else at taking out recycling? Furthermore, if that statement can be qualified, that he is better at taking out the recycling, then shouldn’t he just do it?
And also, what is with all that “not take myself too seriously” bullshit? While your wife is taking out trash, you’re sitting there doing what, exactly? Concentrating on being non-serious? I. Don’t. Get it.
Ugh, I hope that chick is happy, because she settled for a douchebag.
Did you know…
R.I.P. Juicy
Last year for my birthday, Chris bought me the most lovely and wonderful Juicy purse ever. It was my favorite. I carried that beautiful brown leather hobo with gold detailing everywhere. And then today, it broke. Totally and completely kaput. So, thanks a lot, Juicy, especially for giving my husband any reason to believe that womens’ purses aren’t worth the cost. You, Juicy, you are a giant biatch.
P.S. Is it just me or does anyone else remember the days when Juicy labels read, “Made In The Glamorous U.S.A.”? Because now? Well, I just checked and now they say “Made In China.” Just sayin…
Let’s get this road on the show!
We’re all packed up and ready to hit the road and head to Bakersfield, but as luck would have it, it is now raining barely drizzling outside, which means all the nervous Nellies and Neddies are driving like IDIOTS and so, we can’t leave yet. Which is annoying for many reasons, but mostly because I will have to wait until after 10:30 PM for my first champagne cocktail of the night. 10:30 PM seems a little late to start drinking, doesn’t it? Or maybe it doesn’t, now that I think about it…I used to wait until 10:30 PM or sometimes even eleven o’clock to go out when I was in college. How did I even do that? More to the point, why did I do that? Crazy girl. Anyway, we won’t be arriving into town until later and now I’ve worried myself into somewhat of a frenzy that my mom and dad will already be in bed and won’t be up for a champagne cocktail when we arrive. Mom, Dad, will you be awake when we arrive? I really do hope so, because I cannot remember a night drive from San Diego to Bakersfield that hasn’t ended in a champagne cocktail with my mom and dad…
Heeeeellooooooo twenty-six!
While out to dinner tonight, I complained to Chris that I was feeling a draft in the restaurant.
Immediately after I said that, I began to get worried…
I have never used the word ‘draft’ before, except to refer to a beer.
I guess I’m getting old…
But then I realized, if getting old means I receive three bottles of champagne on every birthday, then SIGN ME UP!



