Birthday Card

After a 4 hour long happy hour I raced home to get my damn work clothes off. Not so much because they were uncomfortable but because I have insane sunburn and couldn't wait to go commando. As I walked in the front door, the boy bellows "there might be birthday cards on the table for you". Ah yes, my birthday is tomorrow (although I've been celebrating all weekend). Two cards were in fact waiting for me- one with Jess scribbled on the front and one with Mom written on it. The boy insisted I open the one from the Tuck first that oddly enough had picture of the Tuck on the front. Well, the Tuck's twin anyway ( I mean, if we're not getting royalties for that pic it must not be our dog, right?!).

Moving along, the next card was from the boy. He couldn't have called Hallmark and said "put a, b, and c in this card" to make it anymore perfect. We are not a sappy couple. He doesn't plan elaborate dates or buy outlandish gifts on the reg. But he's thoughtful. When he goes to the store he brings me home kit kats and cokes. When I'm sick he comes home on his lunch to check on me. He makes me breakfast in bed occasionally and tells me he loves me just because. And this card expressed just that.

There were lines about having too much pride and being a jerk, lines about dancing with me and telling gross jokes, lines about never being on time and letting me do all the work. But it ended with how he may not be perfect but he's perfectly him. And it's true. Our relationship is a far cry from perfect. We fight, we cuss at one another, we go to bed angry and say things we don't mean. But we love each other. Good, bad, or indifferent. At the end of every day I'm just happy I share my life with him. The small moments, the big moments, and every moment in between.

I'm thankful to spend another birthday with him. Especially since I get the day off from having to walk the dog. Score.

Gypsy Dog

Our dog, the Tuck, rules the roost. Seriously. He paws at us, we take him out, he whines at us, we pick him up, he brings us a toy, we throw it. He apparently sent us to obedience classes...and we excelled with flying colors.

Having the Tuck around is like having a built in comedian. We make him dance, we give him silly hair cuts, and we pretend he talks like Borat. Fun, right? Until the little monster needs to go outside. And it's not even so bad when he only has to pee, but it's a bitch when he has to go #2. Especially because we apparently live in high society wherein our homeowner's association takes 900 years to approve the plans for our fence so our dog can crap in our backyard. Wait, we should probably submit those plans first...

Anyway, the boy and I are in a constant war over who has to take the dog out, plastic bag in hand. The most common method of solving this complex problem is rock, paper, scissors.

For the third time in a row...V.I.C.T.O.R.Y. This time with papahhh.

Five Years

Five years doesn't seem like that long ago. In fact, as cliche as it may sound, it seems like just yesterday I took my first step on Towson's campus and met a wonderful group of people. I came across this picture last night and it made me think how different my life is now compared to my life in'05. Living sitch: In '05, I shared a 4 bedroom apartment with three other girls. Two of the ladies I am still in contact with , one...well, I have no idea what her life is like these days. Today, I'm sharing a house, my very own, with a man who I will be marrying in 11 months.

Makin' paper: I worked part time at the University bookstore with a fab group of people where I laughed a lot, excelled at sudoku, and threw up a many a times. I've since upped my work hours to full time plus some for a great job with the government. My t-shirts and sneakers have been traded in for suits and heels, morning sodas and advil to coffee and an english muffin.

Friends and folks: I won't say I have a new group of friends rather I've expanded my old gang, because for the most part, we're all still friends. The same group that got busted for underage drinking on Sept 3, 2005 (and for the the record, only the 3 people who lived in the apt got citations) are now legally drinking together. A couple have been lost along the way but a few more have been gained.

Heart matters: Nothing has really changed in this department. Add a major breakup in '07 followed by a major engagement in '09 and you're up to speed. It took us a minute to figure things out but it's been mainly smooth sailing post '07.

It may not seem like THAT much has changed for me in 5 years but with a college graduation, a couple jobs, a white furry dog and my seemingly carefree, somewhat crazy life has transitioned into a big pile of stability. It's amazing that even my clothing style has changed. I've traded my American Eagle/Hollister wardrobe for a new chic look. I do still secretly enjoy plaid still. Even my long brown curly locks have been chopped off into a much easier, stylish do-although at the request of my future husband/mother I am growing it back out for the wedding. Spoiler alert- the day after the big shin dig, it's going to be gone with the wind. I must be doing something right though because I must admit, life is pretty sweet at the moment.

I can't wait to compare life in the next 5 years. Hopefully foreign travel and a closet full of expensive heels are in my future.

What have you done in 5 years?

Double Tap

What better way to celebrate the end of a work week than with a fridge full of beer. Add a house full of people and you've got yourself a party. And if your friends brew their own beer and supply it- for free- your house gets raided. No just kidding... but we did have a house full of peeps and a ton of free beer. Ales and belgians and stouts and all kinds of tasty empty calories shared shelf space in my fridge.

I started off with their "two year anniversary" IPA and quickly discovered the Belgian named Double Tap. Double Tap spent the rest of the night with me. We bonded like two middle school kids in a movie theatre.

However, our bond quickly broke around 2 am. I was walking as well as the Australian goalie guarded the net today...yeah, that good. Talking was nearly impossible and I soon became reacquainted with my porcelain friend. I'm not quite sure where the boy was in all of this because I distinctly remember (which is saying something) R holding my hair back as I tasted my antipasto salad again. Not so good that time in case you were wondering.

I don't remember much after the upchucking. Not sure how I made it into my bed or even what time that was but I do know I was supremely confused Saturday morning when I rolled over. I squinted my eyes, saw the clock flashing 7am and thought, oh hell no, not even trying to move yet. I rolled back over, reached my arm out to put around the boy and saw long brown hair. What. The. Hell.

R was stretched out beside me. In my bed. I did a double take to make sure I still had clothes on (hey, as much as I had to drink...jk) and when I realized I slept with a bra (among many other articles of clothing) on I thought, eff it, I'll find the boy in the morning--later morning.

A couple hours later R and I did the walk of shame down my steps. Well, really it was no shame for her, but I knew I was about to hear stories from several hours earlier. Ps. the demand for oreos and then subsequent throwing up of said oreos (in someone's hand) was one of my favorites.

Double Tap you dirty bastard. Your smoothness may have worked this time...but alas...oh hell, who am I kidding...it will probably work again next time. Until we meet again good sir.