My Friends Are Sluts

Settled.

2012-01-18T13:06:00.001-06:00

We're finally settled. After more than a week without our stuff, and another week to unpack it all once it arrived, we are finally settled in our new house. My dog is less than thrilled about her new locale, as am I, but we're both trying to make the best of it.Moving is alot of work. And I don't just mean the unpacking. It's not like I moved into a different apartment across town, where the only newness I have to get used to is how hot the shower will get and where to put my silverware. With a move across town, I still have my friends, my job, my gym, my grocery stores, etc. With a move across country, everything from the light switches, to my job, to the grocery stores, to nail places, to the gym is all new. And sometimes, all that newness at one time, can be too much. I'm trying to take things in one at a time, and to remember that it will all work out in the end. As far as making new friends go, I haven't yet met anybody. Friends told me I would meet people at the gym, or at dog parks, but that hasn't exactly happened yet. Women seem to be very friendly here and there are lots of smiles on faces, but no real communication or anything yet. Hopefully that will only be a matter of time. I will say, that it's extremely exhausting to be "ON" all the time. There's something to be said for the people whom you can relax around and be yourself. I've had that advantage for way too long, and constantly selling yourself to new people is tiring. It's just something one has to go through, I suppose.

Today is a new day.

2012-01-07T14:53:00.002-06:00

Day One of our cross country move to Charlotte, North Carolina was a long one. From Tuesday night, Commander and I have been living out of a suitcase since all of our belongings were boxed up, ready and waiting to load on the trucks. It's a crazy thing to be inside your own home, but have zero access to your personal things. Commander brought home soup for dinner on Tuesday night to help me with my cold...but we didnt have any spoons. Yesterday we drove through four states, finally deciding to quit for the night in Lafayette, Indiana. We drove over nine hours, with eleven more to go. What an exhausting day. We also were informed the moving truck would be a day later than scheduled. Apparently, the movers load your stuff on their trucks, but dont haul it out, until it's convenient for them. I only packed two pair of jeans, which is not enough to last an entire week. Did I mention I only brought one bra? Clearly, I wasnt thinking when I packed my suitcase earlier this week.Today we will stop in Knoxville, TN to visit family and have a relaxing dinner. Then four more hours on Sunday to Charlotte. I'm told we have to make a stop in Ashville to check of the sites, which we plan to do. Surprisingly, Kentucky has turned out to be exceptionally pretty. I had no idea! I hate this drive, but I'm enjoying the adventure. And only one minor meltdown so far; one that I was able to hide from Commander. It would break his heart to see me crying already.Until next time....

Ex-Files

2011-11-22T14:48:00.001-06:00

Last week, while on my lunch break walking through the skyways, I happened across an ex-boyfriend. And by ex-boyfriend, I mean someone I used to sleep with with no strings attached. And of course, those were his rules; not mine.I hadn't seen this person in ten years, but the moment he caught my eye, even from 20 feet away, I instantly knew it was him. Actually, I think my gut and nerves saw him before my eyes did, because I had this sudden wave of nausea, and then, half-a-second later, I focused in on the culprit. Without even a flinch, I made an unplanned sharp right turn and lost myself in the crowd. I know how to disappear quickly. I reached for my phone to text Bestie of the sighting, and I fluttered and fumbled and couldn't remember how to breath. Only after I was sure of my escape did I begin to relax, brush myself off and head back to the office. What puzzled me after I had a chance to catch my breath was why I had physically reacted so much? Was my body trying to tell me something? Did I still have feelings for someone I hadn't seen in 10 years?! I had always envisioned that I would be super cool and aloof had we ever crossed paths again; you know, the older, but sexier version of myself, tossing my hair back to say, "Oh Yes, I remember you...." But clearly, cool isn't in my blood when my natural reflex is to vomit in my shoes.My reaction to the Ex disappointed me. I had hoped more for myself. I truly felt that I had come a long way since those days of Bad News Boyfriends and Booty Call Delights and grounded myself in a mature, loving, trusting relationship with Commander. No longer was I the victim of a one-sided relationship, where I spent my nights pining for something that neither of us was really ready for. I tortured myself then, and for the last few days I've been torturing myself all over again, feeling guilty that I left some untouched corner of my heart hold a flame for this guy.However, now that I write this out and listen to what my body was telling me...maybe those flutters and shivers and waves of nausea were signals that represented what life was like with the Ex. It wasn't peaceful, it wasn't healthy and it certainly wasn't all that enjoyable. From what I remember, I spent alot of time doubting myself and tearing myself apart over every little thing. Don't get the wrong idea; it wasn't abusive in anyway. I was just too emotionally young to be doing what I was doing, and to expect what I was expecting from someone else who was entirely too emotionally young to deal with it. The dice were loaded on this relationship.I think I'll just plan to eat at my desk for a few weeks. Charlotte is only 45 days away. Hopefully it will be another 10 years before I see him again.

I don't even know where to begin.

2011-11-10T12:20:00.001-06:00

Let's see, I guess there's quite a bit to update you on. For simplicity, I'll hit the highlights.1. Commander's mother died. It wasn't sudden or tragic, and truth to be told, she's probably a hell of alot more comfortable now than she has been in the last year after her stroke. We knew it was coming, as she was withering away to nothing, but still....I think losing both parents hit Commander really hard. We hopped on a plane as fast as we could and respectfully said goodbye. It was only after I had arrived, that I was told to possibly expect Commander's ex-wife to show up. Luckily, she didn't show, but she is in the will...so I guess I never stood a chance with my M-I-L. Oh well, such is life.2. We put our house on the market. You should have seen me when I drove up to my house one night after work and saw the "For Sale" sign in my yard for the first time. I was inconsolable. For the next two days, I would walk over and kick the sign. And one festive night after a neighborhood party, I body slammed it and tried to yank it out of the ground. However, too many Stolie Doley Martinis kept me from making any real progress.3. What I do know is that selling your house sucks. Letting people at large demand access to your house whenever they god damn feel like it, is just painful. I don't know how people with children would ever sell a house; I had one dog to remove each time, and that was a nightmare. And I also learned my realtors are assholes. No realtor is ever going to think you're selling your house for too little, and always want to guilt you into reducing the asking price. However, in our situation, which is we DON'T NEED TO MOVE, I'll list the house for whatever I god damn want, lady. If you don't want to sell it; move over because somebody else will. I didn't even want to sell it in the first place. My friends commented that I was downright pissed when a buyer asked to tour my house. I had to be the only person in America who voluntarily put their house on the market, only to spit on the people who even THOUGHT about buying it.4. Well, we sold it. At full price, I might add; take note Realtor Bitch. It didn't take long for offers to come in on our house and there was constant interest. A doctor from California is lucky enough to move to Minnesota in February and wanted to buy our house. So, we'll be moving to Charlotte in January. I've yet to completely warm up to the idea, but I am working on it for Commander's sake. 5. Now....where can a girl find a nice rental in Charlotte, with a garage, fenced yard and 3 bedrooms?

Some people will just never mind their own business.

2011-10-16T19:48:00.000-05:00

Many women miscarry; and unfortunately, I am one of those women. Many women will continue to try to conceive and many more women will continue and fail. For those women who eventually do conceive, I congratulate you and anticipate your joy. Getting pregnant is not as easy as Teen Mom would make it out to be. For some women, and for whatever reason, it's damn hard. Physically. Mentally. And emotionally....it's all damn luck. I didn't have that luck. In fact, I didn't have much luck at all for a long, long, long time. And one time.....I was lucky.For less than a month.And since I'm tired of the emotional roller coaster and the toll it takes on my heart, Commander and I have decided to embrace our lives just the way they are. And since I'm also tired of explaining to strangers why I'm a 38 year old married woman without children; let me be very clear. One. Last. Time. I'm happy. My life is full. I don't want or need to keep reaching for something that I will never have. It's sorta like waiting to live my life until I lose those last 10 pounds, and staying home from the dance until I fit into the perfect dress. Hey, guess what?! There's like a 1,000 dresses out there, and I look pretty cute in 998 of them. Moving on...life isn't defined by how many children I do, or do not have. Life is defined by my happiness, the love of my family and friends, the love I give back, and how I pay it forward. So, for those of you who feel that I will only be "whole" if I adopt, keep trying to have my own baby, or even feel it's any of your business to ask...Please; stop asking. Stop measuring my life. Because from where I stand? It's damn near perfect. I'm happy with it. I'm not defensive anymore; just bewildered you feel you need to make me better.

I'm pertually on the verge of tears and constantly pissed off.

2011-09-26T20:37:00.000-05:00

Which, to be honest, is not like me at all. I'm usually very upbeat and generally things don't bother me too much. But that attitude is all in the past, because now, my house is on the market, and selling a house sucks. It sucks out loud.I came home two weeks ago to find a giant For Sale sign erected in my front yard. I knew we were getting close to listing it, but let me tell you, seeing it in person for the first time really pissed me off. I pulled into the driveway and sobbed for 20 minutes before Commander came and got me from the car. I was inconsolable. I did the Ugly Cry and shivered with a vengeance .... The whole bit. I. Was. Ridiculous. Since then, I've been doing nothing but plotting how to foil the sale of my own house. I've asked my neighbor to smoke a cigar in my driveway with his zipper down, and even considered leaving a giant turd in each of the toilets when a realtor requests a showing. I've got to be the only person in the world that voluntarily puts her house on the market, and truly doesn't want anybody to even consider buying her house. The more showings my realtor books, the more I wanna kick her in the stomach. I know it's not her fault; I do. But I'm angry. And right now, she represents the very thing I've been trying to resist: change. Moving. Charlotte. It's all moving forward despite my best feet-dragging efforts. I'm defensive. I'm bitter. And I'm a lunatic. Every possible obstacle to this move has been accomodating, and if or when, we ever want to come back and resume our Minnesota Life, we've been guaranteed a solid return. My job will work with me no matter where I live. Commander's job will pay for us to move and will pay for us to move back if we don't like it. Anybody else in our position would take this opportunity and run with it. I want to be the kind of person who takes this kind of opportunity and finds he adventure in it....but all I can do is cry for what I'm losing. Security. My house. My friends. Home should be wherever Commander is.....so why can't I get over being angry about it all?

Can I tell you a secret?

2011-09-12T11:29:00.000-05:00

I don't want to move.

How Lovely!

2011-08-31T09:08:00.004-05:00

Look what I got! My Friends With Benefits was sweet enough to bestow me an award and I can't thank her enough. Stop by her blog for a peek - it's adorbs! However, nothing comes free and there are some rules to follow...

Rules:
Link back to the person who gave you this award - Check!
Complete the form below - Check!
Share 7 random things about yourself - Check!
Award 15 bloggers this award and notify them of the award. - I gotta work on this one!

Name your favorite color: Violet

Name your favorite song: "Skinny Love"

Name your favorite dessert: Tiramisu

When you're upset you: Cry and feel helpless? Wait...that answer sucks. I create literary masterpieces and feverishly reject publishers and agents.

Your favorite pet: Emma - my Rescue Dog that rescued me right back.

Your biggest fear: At this point, moving to Charlotte!

Best feature: Wordsmith....isn't that attractive?!

Everyday attitude: Calm

What is perfection: Sunsets

Guilty pleasure: Alcohol!

Seven Random Things About Me:
I hate going to have my hair done.
I watch terribly bad TV.
I eat peanut butter almost every day.
I have been working out consistently for over 6 years and haven't lost more than a total of five pounds.
I'm a writer.
I suck at it.
My favorite thing to do is day drink outside.

With all due respect.

2011-08-20T20:54:00.006-05:00

I wasn't completely sure I was going blog about this, but after a few glasses of wine, I can be convinced to blog just about anything. And that's exactly what Commander convinced me to do tonight. Put on my Big Girl Panties and come clean.

I started this blog a little over four years ago with the intent to share episodes of my present and past life and to mostly, make fun of me and my friends. Despite the spike in traffic that Google Analytics records after 2AM from men in the Ukraine, this blog has very little to do with sex or actual sluts. (Sorry, fellas. Life's a bitch.) The name of the blog may be My Friends Are Sluts, but that name is purely tongue and cheek. That snarky name came out of love and respect to all my friends. A nod, if you will, to all the ups and downs most of us had to go through to become the women we are today. The life we all endure is never one we presume it will be. Noone's a princess, ya know? Yet, I'm okay with that; more than okay. I made alot of poor decisions behaved inappropriately. My friends are sluts and proud of it. Its not always easy to own that label and be comfortable of it, but I own it. And if anybody reading this has a problem with that name, leave a comment and I'll be sure to read it when I start taking applications for new best friends.

In the meantime, let me just say that if any of you have a problem with this blog, feel free to find the browser address bar and get yourself something else to read. I can Google "wholesome websites" and get no less than 168,000 suggested sites just as fast as you can, so please, if anything I say or do offends you, you have my permission to not visit this site. This is my art, my life and my challenge in life; not yours. In the last four years of running this blog, I've never asked for donations, I've never asked for publicity or even to leave a comment. I've only ever asked that if you read this blog, know that I am going to be me. This is my little corner of the Internet, and I'm the mayor of SlutTown. (Regrettably, that term is sure to direct unwanted traffic via Google.) Which means that I might offend some people and might entertain others. And if you are one of the Offended Party, please dont let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

Sometimes this blog will be funny, and sometimes it will just be about my life. But one thing it will always be is MINE.

High School Reunion. Some of the good stuff.

2011-08-15T19:22:00.004-05:00

High school reunions are weird. Walking into that banquet room felt like walking into the 6th grade lunch room. Despite the confidence, maturity and grace I've acquired over the last 20 years, the first few minutes were spent swallowing back raging insecurities. Where was Stephanie Florez?! Would she still want to kick my ass for no good reason? Dont get me wrong, I generally love everything about me. Wait...who am I kidding? My gym membership dues practically write themselves every time I try on a new pair of jeans.

What surprised me though, was after the first few jitters were gone, I had a blast. I loved having the chance to reconnect with people from my past, whether we had anything in common now or not. There is something comforting about being with people who come from the same place. It was incredible to see how people turned out. Those people that spent most of their years lost and struggling with themselves, have now found joy and self worth and excel in their paths. It was great to hear how people moved beyond that "Frozen In Time" identity and developed into more than I would have ever foreseen. Well, my mind is small, so it's not surprising I would be quick to judge based on little fact.

Moving on....

One discovery from this weekend really moved me. One of my teachers from middle school was able to come out and finally be true to herself and her partner. Back when I was in school, there was just no way I would have ever even thought of her as gay. It just wasn't something that I registered with yet. And in small town North Iowa in the mid 80's, it simply wasn't done. I would imagine being gay was a death sentence; especially if you made your living teaching children. So when I saw her this weekend, of course immediately I guessed. Call it experience, call it being an asshole....whatever you want.....but I was happy to see her truth, nonetheless. I would never want her to be anything but happy and loved, and for that, I'm pleased for her. I'm proud to see the progress in my little town. Even more proud to be from a state that legalizes gay marriage.

That's the good stuff about looking back; you can see how far you've come.

More tomorrow.

I pulled the trigger.

2011-07-27T12:06:00.001-05:00

I registered for my 20 year class reunion yesterday. Through gritted teeth, but I did it.

Actually, wasn't Facebook invented so people could avoid the awkwardness of their high school reunions? First of all, who wants to announce how many years they have been out of high school anyway? The first time "20 year reunion" slipped through these lips, I wanted to slap myself. I can't name one other thing that has lasted for 20 years in my life....well, except my snarky mouth. That's been around forever. Thank you, Jesus!

I'm pretty sure my snarky mouth is going to get me in trouble at this reunion, too. Last time I was drunk with any of these people, I was too stoned to carry a conversation or even get myself to the bathroom....but after all these years, I've had some practice making a jack ass out of myself and I do it quite well these days.

Can't you just see me asking the Homecoming Queen why her husband isn't at the reunion and when she says, "Oh, we're divorced", I just know I'm going to blurt out something to the tune of, "Is that your only divorce? I would have bet you'd have two or three by now. Good for you.", as I swirl my drink in a new direction to find a new victim to attack with my drunk potty mouth.

Seriously, I have a real problem mixing social drinking with Real People. By that of course I mean, my friends aren't Real People. They are just like me and know I am a snarky ass, and they let me slide when I've had too many. Real People don't typically like me yet and will judge me on how many times I say the F-word. And I happen to really really like the F-word. I don't have kids, so I get to say it all the time, too.

It's also less than a month away, which clearly doesn't leave me time to get an MBA, become famous or lose 25 pounds. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to drink more.

Dangerous Territory

2011-07-26T14:18:00.003-05:00

Why am I talking about Dangerous Territory? Because I've just recently noticed how god damn easy it is to shop online. Especially now that all these shopping websites retail my buying information and practically feed it to me as I check out, so all I have to do is a simple clickity-click...and DANG!, I just spent $200 on shoes that I totally don't need.

It's clearly the work of the internet shopping devil and not because I have zero self-restraint. Somehow I think I was relying too much on the physical act pulling out my credit card from my wallet to stop me from frivolous purchases.

The internet shopping devil has magically made that act unnecessary.

Which leads to random shit being delivered to my house wayyyy too often.

Family

2011-07-17T19:43:00.003-05:00

This past Wednesday was my grandmother's memorial service. You know, the grandma I never met. .

After much soul searching, I decided not to attend. I didn't know how to reconcile being shunned from my father's family for so long, and then going to pay my respects to some one I didnt know.

However, my brother went. Which only confuses me even more,

He hasn't spoke to me in over a year, and then runs to the family that has never accepted him. I dont understand why he tries so hard with them. They ignored him for 25 years and never included him either.

Ever ask yourself how I got here?

2011-07-11T13:06:00.003-05:00

Sometimes life is just like...Wowzers. How did that happen? For instance, I guess I'm moving to Charlotte, N.C. to become a southerner.

I'm a true blue Midwestern girl, up until now. I don't know anything about being southern.

I know it's hot as hell down there. Smashley and I spent this past weekend in the stifling heat looking for houses and trying to find the dirty under belly of Charlotte's entertainment factor. We stumbled upon NoDa and made some new friends at the bar. They gave us beer and Cheerwine and told us to stop by the Thirsty Beaver.

I found plenty of houses that I would love to live in, but no where close to being able to afford them. I like what I can't afford....so, what else is new?

I am trying to keep a positive perspective on this move. I keep telling myself all of us need to continue to grow and challenge themselves in life and this opportunity is just one of the many ways to do that.

Challenging yourself is kinda hard for a lazy person. Of which, I totally am. As soon as I landed back in Minneapolis yesterday, I felt instantly at ease. There's just something about the comfort of home. Makes all my anxiety go away. I totes am gonna miss this place.

Weekend Recap

2011-06-13T12:55:00.003-05:00

It was a long and exhausting week for me, so I was more than anxious to get out my frustrations with a hard work out and then head home for some quality-time with Commander. Friday night, we grilled steaks and sat out on the patio and shared a bottle (or two) of wine. Perhaps I ended the evening with a quiet somber viewing of Dateline, or perhaps I had a Solo Dance Party in my kitchen with Pandora cranking out the greatest salsa hits I've ever encountered. You decide.

Saturday was too chilly for the pool, so I decided it was a good day for Emma to get a bath. I took her to Bubbly Paws , which is a great-idea-slash-pain-in-the-ass. Despite the tremendous foresight of Bubbly Paws by installing the greatest dog bathtub I've ever seen, the abundance of supplies such as shampoo, conditioner, towels, combs and brushes (they even have aprons for the parents to wear during bathing) Emma still didn't feel it was up to her rigourous standards for an enjoyable bath experience. I suppose she prefers the ice cold hose in the back yard; mostly because she's more likely to outrun me.

Then off to a graduation party for a family friend where I ate way too much and ruined my diet. Oh well...I guess I'll start over on Monday like I do every week.

What did you do?

Now I've really gone and done it.

2011-06-09T21:39:00.002-05:00

On a whim, or possibly still on the high off the adventure of living somewhere new, I threw my resume out to the wind in Charlotte....and somebody's actually come calling.

They want to fly me down there to meet everyone.

I'm flattered!' yet, also petrified. I'm quite sure think I'm smarter than I actually am. Secondly, what if they really want to hire me? They would probably expect me to live in the same city, wouldn't they?

Ah, fuck. Have I dug myself into a hole? I've got the weekend to decide if I want to deliberately bomb the second interview,

Also.....are chest pains something to be worried about?!

Things are dusty around here.

2011-06-01T13:31:00.004-05:00

The long weekend was fun, huh?

I had some fun times with Commander and got my hair done. Not nearly enough time at the pool and went to dinner with some new friends. Mostly, I swore at the weather and pleaded with Mother Nature to let Summer come out and play. And of course, now that I'm back in the office, it's 75 and sunny out. Stupid weather.

Something interesting happened recently though. Remember how I told you about my biological father and what a door knob he can be? And how I found out he died over the internet? Well, my half-sister (whom I've never met) emailed me last week to tell me that our mutual grandmother died. Given that this half-sister and her mother (My step-mom?) failed to contact my brother and I during our father's last dying months, nor reach out to us to include us in the obituary; I can see that this half-sister is trying.... Is it wrong for me to assume she is trying to make up for her past mistakes of excluding us in terms of my father?

Now she wants us to go to the Memorial Service in July. And God help me, I don't have a clue as to how to handle this. This is unprecedented territory for me and I'm lost. Here are some highlights to help flesh out our relationship....

Half-sister I've never met...along with a step-mom I've never met...to go along with the dead father and dead grandmother I've never met. Only contact has been phone or letters, and very few and far between at that.

Neither of these women allowed us the chance to say goodbye to our father. Never reached out to us and from what I understand, the step-mom never wanted us around.

The step-mom told my older brother years ago that this grandmother was already dead. I guess she didn't want to answer questions as to why they stopped visiting.

So, after all this time....she wants us to join her for the funeral. Really.

It's all about perspective.

2011-05-15T17:05:00.002-05:00

As charming as Charlotte was, one thing that stood out to me as Commander and I explored the city, was the enormous amounts of subdivisions in that city. The town of Charlotte is fairly spread out, and I'm not sure if this particular type of neighborhood design was on purpose, or if it was just cause and effect that comes with a zillion golf courses in a concentrated area. But every time we turned off a main road, it was a dead end cul de sac. There was no hopping from one little cute neighborhood to the next, or at least I didnt find any. It was like a giant suburban maze with no way out. Outside of Uptown and the Dillworth area, the city's infrastructure seemed very displaced to me.

For this reason, I've been very apprehensive about relocating. Surburban Hell in 3D. I just don't think I'd be very happy in that environment; for whatever reason, I've just always been happier closer to downtown, where I can find cool new restaurants and shops and boutiques and get lost in the hustle and bustle of the city. I sometimes like not knowing my neighbors very well and just doing the obligatory and polite wave when I see them. Of course, that's not always the case, but I'm much more comfortable being anonymous than I am as the Woman with No Kids at the end of the street if you know what I mean.

If Commander moved me out to the middle of some damn suburb, I'm afraid that two months later I'll be wearing MomJeans and a twin-set with Beanie Babies in the back window of my car. And that is sooooo not happening......

Having said all that, last night someone tried to break into our house. Luckily for us, and for them, they weren't able to open a window or door, which would have set off the silent alarm. I guess s gated community is looking better and better.

Well, here we are.

2011-04-29T20:07:00.002-05:00

Landed in Charlotte this afternoon and I have to admit, outside of the drive from the airport to downtown, Charlotte is pretty awesome. The downtown area is lush, green, friendly and pedestrian friendly. We have only been here nine hours and Commander is already bombed off his ass. His potential new coworkers wanted to give him a warm welcome by ordering special poured drinks twice his normal rate. I was able to enjoy myself but remain skeptical of their Charlotte sales pitch. So far, Charlotte is turning out to be a very nice area, Dammit. I was a little nervous to meet the wives of Commander's coworkers....Southern Belles, if you will...but from what I can gather from a bunch of drunk suits, their wives swear and talk about inappropriate subjects just like I would. Maybe it won't be as hard to make friends as I thought it would be.

On a side note, I'm relishing Commander being a sloppy drunk. I've convinced him that room service is a good idea and dessert an even better idea. As long as I make sure he gets down two bottles of water and a few Advil, my job is done and the TV is mine.

In other news....looks like Charlotte could use a few exciting food trucks downtown during lunch hour. There is a great opportunity for outside fast food dining here that is not being utilized. Might be a great business idea.

Skip this post if you are tired of hearing about Charlotte

2011-04-19T21:15:00.002-05:00

Heavy decisions and tension are abundant in my household right now. I feel like my mind won't turn off and the decision to move is barricading me into a corner. I'm crabby and testy, and I know I'm taking out my frustration about the whole matter out on Commander. I see myself getting impatient and hear myself snap at him. I don't want to, but right now, I just cant help it. I apologize; he accepts and says he understands, and the cycle starts over again.

Saturday night Date Night was clouded by the same topic. It seems whenever we have a moment to sit down and really connect, that is when the real shit comes out; anxiety, excitement, visions of grandeur... All of it. Whether it makes sense or not. He is ready to go. As you could probably tell, I am not. For some reason, I am putting a great amount of value on my career/current job. Had you asked me 6 months ago how I felt about my job? My answer would have mirrored how I feel about Formica. . it's there...I go to it.. But now things are significantly different. And yes, I'm talking about money. Money talks, People. Don't act like it you don't listen. To put it plainly, I'm damn surprised at myself for being able to stick with this company for as long as I have; after the part-time crap I had to suffer through and the machismo I sometimes have to endure.....I'm still here and it finally fucking paid off. I finally have a career I'm proud of, one that doesn't come along so easily for someone like me. I'm notnwicked smart, don't have a wicked excellent college education, and I cant sell shit. I'm s back office type gal who keeps her head down until the work is done.

It has come to my attention that the question before me is if I'm willing to sacrifice my self worth to appease Commander and go along with him on this adventure? Don't get me wrong; he's not presenting me with that specific question - that's just what this while thing boils down to. He says over and over that we won't go if it's not the right move....and then I see his heart break a little. And that isn't something I can live with either. Despite the car, the career, the money, my perfect little house and all my friends, I love the guy and don't want him to want for anything,

I find it funny....

2011-04-19T10:12:00.003-05:00

That I'm moments away from stepping into a very important client meeting, where I am expected to shine like a god damn diamond and impress the pants off the woman who is coming to meet me, and my pants have a safety pin holding them up, torn lining and my bra is on inside out.

I exude class, don't I?

Clearly, I'm missing out on the new offerings at Walgreen's.

2011-04-13T10:09:00.001-05:00

Why this country would run better if more women held office. Around the 4 minute mark is when this gets really interesting.

Washed Up Weekend

2011-04-11T09:23:00.002-05:00

This weekend, Commander and I were supposed to head down to Charlotte, NC to scope out whether or not we want to make it our future home. However, Commander was diagnosed with a sinus infection on Wednesday which made flight travel unadvisable. Part of me was thrilled and relieved. I am not sure I want to move in the first place, and the longer we go without seeing and visiting Charlotte, maybe the prospect of us moving will be a passing fancy. Something we'll do in the f u t u r e. Another part of me is frustrated. The decision to move has obvioulsy put on hold until we're able to see Charlotte for ourselves, which now has me trapped in this suspended vacancy. We can't decide until we go; but I want to avoid going, so I don't have to decide. It's a wicked twist of fate. I know myself...and me thinks that the moment I step off that plane, I'll forget all about the security of my job, my brand new kitchen in my beloved little house, and all of my friends that I have in Minneapolis and fall in love with the first house I see that has a pool. Pools are pretty irresistable, though....

In the words of Belinda Carlisle; I get weak.

2011-04-06T14:04:00.002-05:00

Usually I don't let myself have sweet treats during the day. And usually, I can hold onto that little Muffy Rule pretty good. But, every now and then I get weak and crumble.

I especially find it funny that I told myself if I were to go downstairs and get an Oreo Shake from Potbelly's, that I would only allow myself to drink a third of it.

20 minutes later, the cup is upside down on my face so I can suck up every last bit of crumbed Oreo I can get.

Information...Advice....anything you got....

2011-03-30T13:28:00.003-05:00

Friends. Hi. Commander and I are contemplating a move to Charlotte, N.C. I'm scared and excited out of my brain, I can't even sit on the toilet correctly. I'm all twitchy. I just want to put on a pretty dress and be driven around the rich neighborhoods while I sip wine from a travel mug. Anybody know anything about Charlotte? At all? Help?

Life has thrown me a curve ball.

2011-03-28T10:54:00.003-05:00

Commander has an opportunity in his firm to move. To another state. Across the country. While this could be super awesome for him, it might also prove to be super disruptive for me. It's all about me on this blog, so deal with it. I get there's an opportunity; what is subjective at this point, if there's any financial benefit to it. The move is not a promotion, nor does it guarantee an increase in income. What it does provide is Commander not being in the Home Headquarter Offices, a better climate, lower cost of living and potentially being able to buy a bigger home, etc. I want all of these things; for him and for me. However, it comes at a cost of my career in Minneapolis. I am happy with my job. Of course, there are times when I swear the men I work with think that because I have breasts, I should empty the dishwasher and water the plants, but other than that....I'm happy. I like what I do and I do it well. I especially like the money they pay me to do it. I've been here 5 years, and up until now, I would have been happy to have my whole career here. Moving is also very emotional. I feel completely insecure about this decision. How will I find a job? What if I don't make the same salary? Do I really want to go somewhere that I don't know anything about where I have no friends? Do I really want to start all over? It's all very dramatic and frightening. The easy thing to do would be to stay. But like I've always said, "Nothing ever changes, if nothing ever changes." Now, I gotta figure out if I want change.

2011-03-21T10:45:00.002-05:00

One evening last week, as I was coming home from work, Commander parked himself at our back door to block me from entering the house. I smiled as I walked up to him, and he bluntly announced, "You're not going to like what happened today."

"What happened, Baby? Did you poop your pants?", I quipped.

A quick punch in the arm and he calmly said, "Read the note from the Dog Walker."

I scanned it quickly then my reliazation turned to horror because my dog had apparently, killed a squirrel and subsequently, brought it into our house so she could play with it on her dog bed.

You see, I had the brilliant idea of installing a doggie-door last year, so she could get out and enjoy the sun while Commander and I were slaving away to make money to buy her Pig Ears and Greenies.

Now, I'm all for killing off squirrels. They don't serve me any purpose, other than to build their nests in the lining of my hot tub and to stuff it full of black walnuts. So, I don't really mind the brutality of it all. Dogs are going to do what comes natural. What I do mind, is that my dog decided to bring it into MY HOUSE. Where All Of My Shit Is.

The idea of a squirrel anywhere near my stuff makes me panic a little, and the fact that this one was dead?? Um...Beyond Gross, and makes me want to scrub my skin with a hairbrush. And it was in my dog's MOUTH!! Gah! Nasty.

If that happens again, she's losing all daytime privileges.

Is it nap time yet?

2011-03-15T10:51:00.002-05:00

Holy crap, I'm dragging ass today. If it wasn't for Commander being out of town, I would swear he roofied last night's Pinot Grigio. I'm not hungover in the least, but I can't focus to save my life.

I know why, too. It's because I'm old. Or too old for what I tried to accomplish this weekend. I had a Girl's Weekend with my booze swilling marathon drinker friends and I came in last. One night of partying until 2AM is about all I thought I could handle, until I turned around and did it all over again the next night. Saturday night, I distinctly remember the girls and I vowing to just have dinner and split a bottle of wine and call it a night.

One bottle of wine turns into two, and that turns into three, and you can guess the rest from there.

Our friend Mike joined up with us later and was complaining that his girlfriend's cats don't like him and all they hiss at him when he visits and our helpful advice was to put raw hamburger in his underwear. Yes, that's the state of mind we were in.

Oh, and my celebrity doppleganger is Meryl Streep. I don't necessarily love that, but it's better than Rocky Dennis.

I can't function properly and this post kinda stinks. Sorry.

Thin Mint Martinis!! Yummy!

2011-03-10T10:57:00.001-06:00

Commander's thoughts on Pop Culture

2011-03-06T19:22:00.003-06:00

Commander: Hahahaha! Have you seen that interview with Charlie Sheen? I can't believe the things that come out of his mouth! He's awesome! He's hilarious!

Muffy: I haven't seen it. The Media Blitz is disturbing to me. The guy clearly has some mental health issues.

Commander: For sure, he's completely mental.

Muffy: All that media attention feels very predatory to me. It's not right. It used to be "Sex Sells"; now its "Psychotic Sells".

Commander: Psychotic Sex sells the best!

She leaves me speechless.

2011-03-03T11:12:00.004-06:00

Sometimes when people come into your life, you know they have a special quality, yet you can't quite put your finger on why, or how it will manifest. A special something that sets them apart; makes you think their life is meant to be bigger somehow. And with hope, you watch their life unfold and shape into magic and your heart swells with pride and astonishment.

For me, that person is Anne Marie Cramer. I'm so immensely proud of my friend, I can't even express it properly. When I met her over 10 years ago, she was an assistant for my group at work. She was new in town and had a magnetic personality. You couldn't help but adore her. Too bad she was an awful assistant; she avoided filing by hiding everything under her desk. She used to say the best part about having a job was getting dressed up in cute clothes to wear to work.

Now she's made that passion a reality. Click here and see the magic for yourself.

Cards, Cocktails and a Concussion.

2011-02-28T10:55:00.004-06:00

That's sums up my weekend pretty good!

Friday night was cards and cocktails with friends. We made too much noise, drank too much booze and ate way too much fried food. And when we finished, Bestie took a header out in the parking lot and gave herself a concussion. Commander said the earth moved a little and when I heard that "whawp!", I spun around and found Bestie flat on her back! Elbow first, then head, then down. We got her home and into bed and tried to administer some Drunk First Aid. She slept it off and I'm sure woke up to a gigantic headache for the entire next day. She falls down alot, but she's a trooper. I fell down once in Champp's and fractured my elbow, which required a sling. That Monday at work, I started off embarrassed when I explained my injury, until I told them that Bestie tried to stick her Driver's License in the ATM and couldn't figure out why her bank account was empty. Totally true.

The next day I met Dawner for brunch at the Bulldog; ordered more cocktails and comfort food. By 3pm that afternoon, I was a zombie. I moaned to Commander how pathetic it is to act as if we've been traumatized by staying out drinking the night before; but honestly, it's somewhat come down to that. Dealing with a hangover and the loss of sleep the next day, while I'm trying to get up and do all the normal things I need to do on a weekend is brutal. This old girl can't hang like she used to.

It's a year later....

2011-02-25T11:34:00.002-06:00

Last year at this time I was PG. I didn't exactly know it yet, but I was. I actually didn't know I was; until I wasn't. I keep thinking back trying to grasp at memories or inklings of how I was feeling, what I was thinking or my emotional state then, just to try to hold on to something of that experience. But the only part I was aware of, was the ending.

Instead of gearing up to go play cards tonight, I've let my mind wander and imagine what typical Friday nights would have turned into if life had gone a different way. It's not lost on me that I would have enjoyed "different" Friday nights just as much as I hope to enjoy tonight. It would have felt cozy and familiar.

We've made our decision and our life is what it is.... a good one, at that. I'm happy. I can't help but touch on it now and then. I think that's normal.

Commander has had a rough winter.

2011-02-23T11:12:00.003-06:00

And with this weekend's additional 17 inches of snow; Commander has reached his limit. Every snow storm, he's out there with his snow plow swearing up a storm and is angry at the world. Angry at Minnesota. Angry at snow. Angry at cold air. He knows it's silly to be angry, but he just can't help himself. It really bothers him. I think the older he gets, the harder he takes it.

However, he's got a solution.

Commander could work practically anywhere. His firms have offices across the country. From New York to San Francisco. Earlier this year, he and I were entertaining the idea of moving to Nashville. Neither of us had been there before; but the adventure was exciting. Unfortunately, that deal quickly fell through.

Now, he has me convinced that we should rent a house in San Francisco for a month next winter (in lieu of a winter vacation, I guess). His office is nearby and hopefully we can figure out a way for me to work remotely for a month. I've still got to work up enough courage to ask my employer about this. However, if I'm still planning on doing the work, maybe I'm scared for nothing. It would be a great experiment in our Business Continuity practices and the idea of telecommuting is pretty exciting for me. I could get my job done and keep Emma company at the same time.

This plan is not iron-clad just yet. I would have to work out the logistics. One, of which, is how to pack up my life for a month, secure the house back home, drive across country with a dog and set up my office. Heck; if I got all that done.....I probably wouldn't want to come back.

Thursday Night

2011-02-18T09:09:00.002-06:00

2AM : phone rings. Commander's mother has passed away.

2:25AM: phone rings again. Wait a second; no she's still alive. She just stopped breathing for a bit. My bad.

How exactly does this happen... She's got a 24/7 Hospice Nurse. Isn't one of the first lessons in Nursing School to ascertain death?

Very odd....

I can't believe I still have 194 followers.

2011-02-17T10:48:00.003-06:00

They must all be deadbeats like I am.

But I do have something to share today, because I'm puzzled. First off....running into former friends is a tricky event to navigate. My instincts are to run and hide behind a plant, or become suddenly enamored with my own fingernails to keep my eyes where they should be - away from former friend's eyeline. Instead, when the former friend plants herself in front of me and wants a big hug, the only smart thing to do is play along and slap a nervous smile on my face.

When friendships end, they typically end badly. I've never heard of good friends spontaneously saying, "Well, this is the end of the road for me. Have a good life!" No. It's more complicated than that. There's usually drama and sometimes crying. Sometimes attempts are made at re-establishing the friendship. Sometimes many attempts. Many unsuccessful attempts.

That's where I am at right now. After the third round of trying to maintain a healthy friendship with this woman, I've decided I've had all I can take. I'm not necessarily "mad" anymore. There isn't anything to be mad about, really I just ... I tried....I can't.... I don't see the point of it all.

An email this morning tells me she is definitely attempting to try again. Fourth time's a charm? I don't see what's different this time. In fact, I know nothing is different this time. I'm not going to respond. Maybe I'm an asshole. Maybe not. Maybe I just outgrew this friendship and we're oil and water.

I'm okay with that.

Suck it up, Muffy.

2010-12-14T11:42:00.003-06:00

A-la Clark Griswald from Christmas Vacation....

No Christmas Bonus this year.

A snippet of a phone convo today with Commander.....

2010-12-03T15:05:00.003-06:00

Muffy: Holy Shit, my cramps are killing me. I need wine!

Commander: You've still got cramps from the I.U.D.?

Muffy: Apparently.

Commander: But you've had them for like, three whole days. When will it be over?

Muffy: Gee, I don't know, Honey. How about I shove a copper Chinese Star up your ass and you let me how long it takes for you to feel better.

More Internet Hilarities

2010-12-01T12:04:00.002-06:00

Damn Funny

2010-12-01T11:09:00.003-06:00

Commander is such a buzzkill.

This card is funny shit, but he doesn't think it's "appropriate".

Whatever.

Catching up....

2010-11-30T12:52:00.003-06:00

First of all, Blogger? I do not appreciate the fact that I cannot cut and paste my posts any longer. I can no longer pretend that I'm writing The All-Important Business Memo on Microsoft Word, when in reality, I'm writing a blog post. Why'd y'all go and mess up my program?!

Anyway...long time, no blog. It was Thanksgiving 'n shit, if you didn't notice. And I was lucky enough to have my mother come in for FOUR WHOLE DAYS!! It was SO AWESOME! And if you can't detect any sarcasm in that statement, then well, my job as a loving daughter is completely credible. Okay, I'm only joking. Because obviously, yes, I do LOVE my mother, but I'm fairly certain that we drive each other to the brink of insanity any time we spend more than 48 hours together. Oddly enough, it makes me feel better to know she can't stand me either. What cracks me up about my mom, is that I'm constantly catching her in little lies. I don't even think she realizes when she's lying. For instance, her little doggie...she says she "walks him a mile every day." Then, why on earth are you bitching at me for not getting a front row parking spot at Target? Seems to me, you should be able to walk farther than the length of my living room if you can walk your dog a mile each day. OOOh, Snap!

So, the extended family. Commander and I were there to witness it, in all of it's glory over the long holiday weekend. The week before Thanksgiving, when I wasn't really sure what our plans were for the big event, I was feeling rather blue that we didn't have a large family of our own to create memories with. There are no little Commander's or Muffy's and it made me a little sad. What are we gonna do for the next forty years if we don't have kids?! But then my extended family surfaced and invited us over. As much as I resisted, because my whole life has been about measuring up to them, I actually had a really great time. I realized that all my inferior crap shouldn't really matter when it comes to family. They have their own crap, too. I just don't see it because I'm too busy focusing on my own. All in all, it was a nice time had by all.

The LA Princess had a new beau with her and surprisingly, he was actually rather normal. Typically, she only brings home guys with names like "Daytona" and "Cruz". However, this year was different. His name was Christian and he was actually very smart. Not an average Joe making his mark on the world in "acting" or "body building". He had a real job and a real house. Let's see if he produces a real ring.

Commander's brother is coming up this weekend for a visit. First time he's been away from home in a number of years. He was too busy taking care of their aging parents. Now that Commander's father has passed, he has a little bit more free time and he chose to come visit us. Other than getting him drunk and setting him up with my slutty friends, I'm not sure what we're going to do with him. If my brother came to visit me, I'd show him his room, hand him a bag of pot and wouldn't see him again the whole weekend.

Holy Inappropriateness!

2010-11-18T07:59:00.005-06:00

I've got three nieces on my Christmas List this year. Think this toy will fly?
There are a lot of strong arguments in favor of breast feeding, but not every parent would find playing at breast feeding an appropriate activity for his or her youngster. Nonetheless, the Spanish company Berjuan has brought just such a toy to market: the Bebé Glotón. The doll comes complete with a nippled vest that the child can don in order to provide sustenance to the baby. The nipples, in the form of open flowers, even make a sucking sound.

Check out the other Controversial Toys That Won't Be on This Year's Wish Lists.

Source : Wallet Pop : Article written by Tom Barlow

We've all done it.

2010-11-07T18:06:00.003-06:00

Every woman has dated a douche bag. I'm including myself in that statement, because not only have I dated my share of douche bags, I've probably dated your share as well. I've come to accept that this is simply a right of passage for women. What doesn't repulse us, makes us stronger, right? But with every douche bag comes awareness, intelligence and confidence in what women want out of their boyfriends and out of their relationships. I eventually learned that oddities and quirks can add up to a whole lotta crazy pretty damn quick. Unfortunately, for some of my women friends, this realization can take a little longer. Let's examine...

This weekend I got together with a girlfriend who I hadn't seen since June. She and I had alot of catching up to do. Highlights of boyfriends are all we had time to share, so when we finally got together, I wanted the real dirt on this guy.

A) He's in the military, but hates people. I'm sorry, but really?! He "hates" people?! Jesus, isn't helping people one of the main reasons people go into the military? Gosh, it's gotta suck to go into the military, protecting all kinds of people. This strikes me as odd, no?

B) He doesn't like to eat in front of people because he viewed it as a weakness. Oh. My. God. Not only is this completely Looney Tunes, but what irks me about this statement, is that if a chick pulled that crap on a guy; He'd call her "Psycho" and flush her like a turd. Why do women stick around with dipshits like this?!?

C) Sex was hot. He pulled your hair in bed? Say no more. Strike A and B. Bring on the douche bags!

I totally forgot to tell you who I saw this weekend!

2010-11-03T14:57:00.003-05:00

She was at the Husker book store signing autographs and selling calendars. She has quite a following! And although I wanted to tell her to keep her chin up and give her all the money in my purse and offer free babysitting for life....I just couldn't bring myself to go talk to her. A 37 year old woman should not be that invested in a Teen Mom documentary show on MTV. It ain't right.

ROAD TRIP

2010-11-01T15:24:00.003-05:00

Gathering up all my friends and loading them in a car and driving 6 hours is alot more work than I thought it would be...it's exhausting to be in a car for that long without anything to do. And driving through endless farm fields to see Commander's beloved Husker football team means that there is absolutely NOTHING fun to look at through most of Iowa and through Nebraska. All I can report is that the Midwest is very BROWN right now. Oh, and there's a ton of dead deer everywhere.

However, there is one small gem of a town on the way to Lincoln, and I wanted to give a big shout out to Glen in Walnut, IA who made us pizza, burgers, sold us Coors Lite and the rest of what was left in a box of White Zin... I could have stayed at Glen's bar all day and watched the world go by.

As you can guess the rest of the weekend followed Glen's suit. We drank and drank and drank, and oh yeah, watched a football game and drank and drank and drank, met some new friends, walked around like pimps and wore fake moustaches. Fun times were had by all. My liver is in a fight with me and my kidneys don't care for me much either today. There was so much red everywhere we went, I thought I had popped blood vessels in my eyes. Everywhere you turn there was Husker stuff. Everyone had on the team colors; to the point if you didn't have team colors on, you felt kinda stupid. Like even when you just went out to get a morning bagel. No red? Stupid dumbass. Where's your red?!

Now it's back to sobriety for a few days to make up with my body and get back in the gym. And to do a crap-ton of homework. On the way back in the car when I began to complain that I had a crap-ton of homework to do, Smashley said, "I keep forgetting you're back in school."

Yeah, me too, Smashley.

Has it really been two weeks since my last blog post?

2010-10-28T09:57:00.002-05:00

Because alot has happened since then. These past two weeks have been a nightmare, and I can't seem to wake up. Commander's father died last week, and while it wasn't sudden and he had been ill for some time, I still took it harder than I thought I would. I mean, to be blunt, I didn't really know the guy all that well. He was 84 when I came into his life and he was less than thrilled that his son was remarrying. It was just a part of their generation, I suppose.

But I think the hardest part for me was seeing Commander go through the loss of his father. I sometimes feel I'm more equipped for hard emotional crap because I've been going through it my whole life, and Commander doesn't seem as well equipped. It breaks my heart to watch him deal with the sadness.

I tend to be able to compartmentalize on sad things in my life and go back to them when I need to. I've become a master at deciding when and when not to be upset about things. I'm sure my therapist would slap me, but I guess that's how I've been able to cope with some things; numbness. But seeing someone you love hurt is a whole different kind of sad. A helpless sad instead of a selfish sad. Does that make any sense?

This weekend will hopefully bring Commander some joy. We're headed to watch the Huskers play football with a bunch of friends and remind Commander of his football days. I really think he needs this weekend more than he'll admit; just to be involved again in something that brings him joy will put a smile on both of our faces.

Is it NeNe or Kim?

2010-10-12T13:06:00.003-05:00

Typically when I find a new reason to tease Commander, I write it down in a little book I keep in my desk and plan out when I'm going to use my latest discovery as a verbal snap on his inflated ego. Those pearls of knowledge don't come along very often, and when they do, you can trust that I have documented such pearls and do not plan to let them go to waste.

For instance, Commander's older brother used to chase him around the house with a bottle of yellow mustard when he was a boy, because Commander was scared of it. It = Yellow. Mustard. This little piece of history and humiliation delights me to no end. And if you knew of the loving and good-humored relationship Commander and I had, you would definitely understand why it's important for me to retain these tidbits.

However, the latest tidbit is something I initially thought would ridiculously embarrass him, yet when I began my rant to reveal my latest discovery, he sat there proudly admitting that, yes, he does enjoy watching the Real Housewives of Atlanta, and he's not making any apologies for it.

Facebook is an asshole.

2010-10-07T10:21:00.000-05:00

I don't know when or how, but I've been locked out of Facebook. Seems that the Facebook upgrade I downloaded on my Blackberry triggered a hiccup in their security, and now I'm blacklisted.

No matter what I do, or what prompt they give me to secure my log in, I can't get back in. FB gave me the Big F-U.

For the first 48 hours, I was a little panicked. How on earth would I keep up with Teresa Guidice and all of her public appearances? My phone was constantly in my hand, and now there's nothing to fun to look at, no one to lurk. My phone got boring fast. Soon, three days went by, and I noticed my life didn't really change at all with or without the trivial tidbits I gathered on other people.

So, I kinda realized that Facebook was an addiction and a huge time suck. It's been difficult, but I think I'm past the detox stage. Hopefully, my recovery will last longer than Lindsay Lohan's.

Happy 3 Years, Commander.

2010-10-06T10:19:00.001-05:00

Vodka Gimlet, Please.

2010-10-04T13:19:00.001-05:00

Commander and I celebrated our third anniversary a little early this year and treated ourselves to a luxurious dinner at D’Amico Kitchen Friday night. Commander is usually very good at remembering that despite being his wife and we see each other every day, a girl still likes to be courted and taken out on the town every now and then. I was anxious to have our romantic dinner; it seems this summer was wiped away with kitchen renovations and dinners out were reduced to P.F. Chang’s or Chipotle. I missed the nightlife with wine lists and authentic fine dining.

As usual, I decide to cram in a quick work out before our night out. Something about breaking a sweat before indulging in high calorie meals seems to take away the guilt for ordering a dessert. And I can’t go out to eat at a fancy place without ordering dessert. I rushed around and got ready and had my dress all picked out. It was a special design from my friend’s boutique (Anne M Cramer Studios); Commander had purchased the dress for me earlier this summer, but I had yet to wear it, and I was excited to show it off. Irritatingly, Commander got completely ready in all of ten minutes, (which just pisses me off) and I painstakingly take over an hour to put my look together. And that’s with my outfit already picked out.

As we walk into this new, glamorous restaurant, my eyes lifted to the ceiling to take in the atmosphere, and I was whole-heartedly wowed by this place. It was gorgeous. It was a gorgeous restaurant with gorgeous food on a gorgeous night. What wasn’t gorgeous is that I was the only woman in the entire restaurant in a dress. I felt overdressed.

Don’t get me wrong, the women there were beautiful, trendy and cute as hell. But every last one of them wore jeans. $200 jeans, I’m sure…but nonetheless, JEANS. Albeit with cute halter tops and heels, but still….jeans. Admittedly, I rock that look as much as I find it appropriate it, too, and most of my shopping conquests orbits that exact look. But it got me thinking – there really is no where special to go anymore that you can’t wear jeans. Jeans are accepted everywhere.

Where’s a girl supposed to go if she wants to wear a cute cocktail dress?! Maybe I’ve been watching too much Mad Men and I need to get good with the fact that High Balls and High Heels are out of style, but it kinda made me sad to realize that there’s very little “dressing up” anymore. Rarely do I see a woman dressed up to the nines to go to a dinner anymore. It’s either business suits or jeans. I love wearing jeans, and I frequently do, but maybe because my mother never let me wear them to school do I consider them something special to dress up in.

What do you wear on a Fancy Date Night?

On tap this weekend.

2010-09-24T12:36:00.003-05:00

Commander had to leave this morning, last minute, to go and take care of his elderly parents. Getting a last minute flight to St. Louis wasn't as easy as one might think. Anyway, his father is 86 years old and has been losing his faculties for quite some time. His mother had a stroke last year and has full time care, but now the father is starting to drift south. It sucks to watch your parents get older, but it sucks more to watch your husband realize his parents will soon be gone.

The odd part about his sudden departure, and almost worries me as much as my father-in-law, is that I'm completely free this weekend. Like...so free, that I'm wondering how I'm going to keep myself busy for the next 72 hours. How is it that I now don't have any plans? My friends are all still here. Yet, all of them are busy, too. Have I subconciously cut myself out of my friendship social circle and their social lives have gone on without me?! How dare they!

Actually, I do have plans to meet up with Bestie tomorrow night at her house. But that was just decided this morning. I'm sure she's just taking pity on me since she knows Commander left town suddenly, so it's not like I had a wild night planned with the Girlies and it just suddenly got more interesting since I am a singleton this weekend. And by "interesting", I mean staying out past midnight.

My social calendar used to be so full that I'd barely have time to hit the gym or stock up at the grocery store. Nowadays, if those things don't get done first, I'm not going anywhere social. Hmmm..... I sense a change in priorities again, and that's kind of depressing.

I think my friends are still close enough to include me in all things fun, but times on my own are cherished, too. So, for tonight, I'll be at home with my Emmabutt, and tomorrow I'll see the Girlies.

Even without Commander nearby - that's a perfect weekend.

Vacation memories

2010-09-15T14:51:00.001-05:00

Commander and I returned from our vacation last week, and I must say, I am a little blue the trip is over and I'm back at home. For the past week, I've caught myself sitting in front of my computer at the office with a small grown on my face; until I remember that I'm sad I don't live in Sonoma Vallye, or have an 8 acre vineyard with a pool, or have access to some fo the world's most fabulous wines at my fingertips. I realize I was only there for a total of five days, but those were QUALITY five days, ya know?

However, I have to admit, by the third day of wine tasting...I was done. I was pretty sick of wine all together. Don't get me wrong, I'm back on the horse after a week back in Minnesota...but that third day of sipping yet another cabernet was like swallowing nails. The first day of touring, we were smart enough to hire a driver and a limo to drive us through Dry Creek Valley. We probably hit six or seven wineries, with probably 4 - 7 different wines to taste at each establishment. The last three places were a blur; as I have no idea what they were called, what they served us, or even what their building looked like. All I know from checking my bank account online is that my check card was called to duty many times throughout that tour. And ironically, I shipped home a lot less wine than I remember buying. But such is life when you're on vacation with seven other people who can hold their liquor just as well, if not better, than I can. My only regret is that I remember buying four bottles of this wonderful rose wine from Prescott Vineyards, with the intend to bring it home and drink in Minnesota before the summer ran out.....Well, turns out the wine ran out before that evening was over and there was none left to ship home. Ah well....there's always the wine club, I guess.

I was pretty proud of myself once Commander and I got back. We hit the ground running and returned to work the very next day after a week long trip of torturing our bodies with wine, beer, vodka and guacamole. Adn this past weekend was probably the first in a very long time that I went to a party, and only had two cocktails! TWO!! I cut myself off early on and felt great the next day. Usually at parties, I lose track of what I've slammed down and have the Drunk Guilties the entire next week. So yeah....Good on Muffy.

It's back to school now. Real life sets in....so, pass the wine.

Question for the masses....

2010-09-10T10:21:00.003-05:00

Did you go to college and does your degree match your current career?

Please leave a comment and tell me how it's going for you. I'm having difficulty deciding if I should pursue the degree that matches my current career, or the degree that matches my heart.

I suck at everything right now.

2010-08-27T10:17:00.004-05:00

Remember how I said this was going to be the "Summer of Muffy"?! Where I would allow myself to do all the fun things I rarely got to do while school was in session? To attend happy hours after work on Nicollet Avenue and start my Saturdays with a Screwdriver? To spend countless hours at the pool, watching my friends flirt with stupid boys while I worked on my wicked awesome tan?

Well, none of that shit happened and summer is practically over.

This kitchen project ate up a good chunk of my summer and now it's almost Commander's birthday. We're going out of town to celebrate and school starts immediately when I get back. I'm not even sure where my damn class is....or frankly what class I registered for back in May. We still have to pick out tile for out backsplash, have the floors poly'd one more time, and I've got to re-assemble my kitchen and put it back in working order. Girlfriends from all over the country want to get together for a weekend here and a weekend there, and before I can take a breath - it's going to be Thanskgiving and the holidays will be upon us once again. I've got to get the house ready for the dog-sitter and prepare my over-imaginative worrisome brain about being away from Emma for a few days. The other night I had a dream that a mountain lion broke in to our house and tried to attack Emma. Which I know isn't rational.....Can you imagine how cookoo I would be if I had a real live breathing kid to take care of?!

Holy shit....Can you sense my anxiety?

Night Moves

2010-08-25T13:28:00.002-05:00

Obiviously, when Commander goes out of town for a few days, my world is a little lonelier and things around the house get a little boring. I don't cook dinner for myself...which also means I don't drink wine by myself either... Before I was married, weeknights were filled with happy hours, shopping with friends or possibly working out if everyone else was busy. And now, when I have time to myself, I find that I'm walking the dog, doing laundry or some other chore around the house, and eating junk food. This change of events irritates the shit out of me. Why the hell aren't I living it up when Commander's out of town schmoozing a client? Oh yeah...responsibilities and maturity. The bane of my existence.

One thing I do appreciate while Commander is away? A night of quality sleep without interruption. No snoring. No getting up in the middle of the night to use the restroom; believe me, it's a total production. And by the time Commander gets back into bed, he fidgets and adjusts for another solid five minutes before he finds something that's comfortable. I cannot even begin to explain how this irritates me. It's like trying to fall asleep next to jackhammer. So, when the opportunity presents arises that I can sleep on my own, even for one night, I have learned to really enjoy it. Because soon, the pissing and the snoring and the bouncing will all be back and I'll only be able to sleep for 45 mintues a night.

Commander's lucky he's so damn nice......

Emma The Butt

2010-08-20T13:30:00.003-05:00

Four years ago today, Commander and I walked into a local pet store on Adoption Day because I knew that Commander was longing to replace his Dalmation that died suddenly years before. Commander had just his new house, and although we had been dating over a year and were quite serious, I still had no idea what our future held. I was certain he would be lonely in his new big house and a dog was the one piece he'd been hesitant to replace.

We walked in and the place was buzzing with activity. Parents and children and dogs were everywhere; families trying out one dog after another. My heart ached at the sight of all these dogs caged up and literally begging for someone to fancy them enough to take them and give them a home. However, this was our second outing to an Adoption Day and I swore up and down that I wasn't going to do go through the heartache of walking out of there without a dog, and until Commander was serious, I was not interested in "window shopping".

Commander had done his research and knew which dog he liked from the Homeward Bound website. We waited and watched and asked, "Where is Emma?", as the volunteers pointed to an empty cage. Another couple was test driving her out in the side yard of the pet store. Commander and I waited patiently as she was returned and we gently took her leash and walked her some more.

First thing she did was poop right in front of us. Not a bona-fide dog owner at this point, I thought the defocating was kinda rude to do within minutes of meeting your new parents. Then we walked around a bit, she ate some grass and then threw up. I turned my nose up at that point. I have always loved dogs; but now it was actually going to be living in Commander's house and with poop and vomit so easily and readily coming out of this dog, I was hesitant. I was not an experienced dog owner and really had no idea what I was sorta committing to. I will admit she was cute enough that I soon ignored my Inner Fear of responsibility.

Four years later and Emma is as much my dog as Commander's. Not a day goes by when I'm at work and I don't wonder if she's okay, got enough water, or had a chance to go outside yet and sun her belly. I think about her constantly and worry about her happiness. She more or less acts like a teenage girl and treats me like I'm her annoying mother who only wants to be her "friend". She'll tolerate the hugs and kisses, but she only does about a third of what I tell her to do. She has her own little agenda and personality and I believe, given her roots is slightly a redneck, but I love her to pieces and dote on her endlessly.

Happy Re-Birthday Emma. Mommy loves you.

Growing Up.

2010-08-17T08:44:00.000-05:00

For as long as I can remember, my friends have played the leading role in my world. I would do anything for my friends, do anything to make them laugh, and did my best to never get in fights. Not only did I hate confrontation, I was also a "Pleaser". I've been described as being "terminally nice";which I've learned isn't necessarily a compliment, because it means I let people take advantage of me. I'd drown out and ignore my own feelings to please others, or to keep conflict away. It wasn't until my mid-twenties that I even recognized myself as doing this. I thought I was simply doing what I wanted to do to help people like me. When I realized that my actions were hurting me, and forcing me into a submissive position with my friends, I began to resent myself for this behavior. What started as me being a sweet and good friend, had led me to being a pushover - and someone I wasn't always proud of. Even after I began to recognize this characteristic; when I would try to stop it, I couldn't. I couldn't simply stop doing the things that led people to use, blame, hurt me. It became who I was, it became a description of me, and eventually, it became my ruin.

As I turned thirty, and grew a backbone and into my skin, I felt that it was time to put an end to my madness. It wasn't an outloud, fire-breathing, scorching, screaming monster that everyone could see, it was an internal quiet struggle that I battled with certain friends. I approached my therapist about it, and she was a great help. She told me many things, but the best thing she told me was that I needed to start taking care of myself, and if I didn't, no one else would. It sounds so trite, but I guess I needed someone to give me permission to do the things I needed to do to take care of my feelings, and make it okay to say, "No". She gave me this example: "Muffy, if you had been planning all day that you wanted to take a walk around the lake after work, and you were sooo looking forward to having that walk, to see the lake, to have time to yourself to think, and it was very important to you - what would you do if your friend called you on the way home from work and asked you to go run and errand with her? What would you say?" I saw how my normal answer to this question wasn't good for me.

I can't lie and say it's been easy. It's been a battle for me. To remember to stop myself, to listen to myself, and to speak up if I don't agree. To stop letting people manipulate me, and to let go of old pain and hurt. I can't control the actions of others. I can't control their feelings. I can't control what they think. I can't control how they behave. Unfortunately, a few friends along the way have decided they don't like the new Muffy, and don't understand why they can't manipulate me like they used to. It isn't their "norm", and suddenly they are uncomfortable. Suddenly the blaming they put on me doesn't work anymore. The control and their influence over me is gone. The bullying doesn't make me cave anymore.

At first I was very sad to see these friendships "take a break". I was confused and hurt by their absence. That, I assume, is the desired effect. As time went on, my life became less complicated, less stressful, and I began to spend more time with friends that were good to me, were my cheerleaders, supported me, and laughed with me. I missed my old friends, however, I think it was more in theory than in practice. I didn't miss the drama or the carefulness that I'd have to proceed on any given day. I didn't miss having to explain slight misinterpretations, or miss having to make excuses why I was with some friends and not with others. I didn't miss temper tantrums or long analytical talks about what Muffy does wrong.

I began a new life with great friends, and unfortunately some friends have chosen not to be a part of it. So, although my friendship circle is getting smaller, I realize now that it's also getting stronger.

I've forgotten to have fun.

2010-08-16T11:53:00.001-05:00

It’s been weeks since I’ve had a proper Girl’s Night with my besties. When school was done for the semester in May, I promised myself that this would be the “Summer of Muffy” and stuff in as much irresponsible and frivolous activities I could muster. Somewhere between the relief of not having homework to do every night and the kitchen reno and the extra 10 pounds I’d like to lose, my summer has slipped away from me while I whittle away hours on the treadmill in the gym and polishing the chandelier in my kitchen.

This is NOT how I envisioned my summer. The pool is only 5 blocks from my house and I’ve only spent one proper afternoon there with drinks and gossip magazines all summer. I should be doing that two or three times a week at least! I have no tan to speak of, despite all the hours I’ve been mowing the yard and walking the dog. I haven’t played golf in over a month and I have only had one afternoon of day drinking. The Summer of Muffy is turning into a bust and it’s more than half over. In fact, there’s only a good two or three weeks left. This has to be remedied immediately.

Summer is in too short of supply for me to waste it on working out every damn day and stressing about the laundry pile up or the drywall dust accumulating in the vents. I need a bona fide Happy Hour and/or Day Drinking Session.

To Dexter....

2010-08-16T10:24:00.000-05:00

Last night, Commander (my fiance) and I went to a swanky food and wine event where your ticket gives you access to 37 different local restaurants serving appetizers and all the wine you can ask for! So naturally the place was packed, even with the 90 degree weather, and the 6000% humidity index. It was table after table of delicious tempting little plates of yumminess, accompanied by glass upon glass of yummy wine! Every time I walked up to a new restaurant display my wine glass was instantly filled, and I had a hot new appetizer shoved in my fat fist which I gobbled down dutifully! I have successfully mastered how to hold a full wine glass and hold a small appetizer plate in one hand, while using the other hand to frantically shove food in my mouth, because let me tell you, it just can't get in my mouth fast enough for my liking. Then it was time for the raffle, and when they called my number and I learned that I had won 35 bottles of free wine - I nearly wet myself! I was bouncing up and down and giggling like a 3 year old! " All that wine is all mine?!? Wine! Wine! I won wine!I won alot of wine!! Yeeeeeaaaaaahhhhhh!" This has been a great night!!

I had been on such a high since counting up my bounty, and letting the booze take it's effect when I got a text from a bestie, and she told me that our friend Zen had to put down her kittycat last night. Instantly, the smile faded from my face, and sorrow came over me and just washed all of the giddiness out onto the sidewalk. My friend Zen was sad; and she was most likely beside herself with grief. She had just learned that her poor kittycat had diabeties only two days ago, and then suddenly he's gone. I feel so sad for her because I know she loved that cat very much and was her buddy for 12 kitty-filled years. I'm so sorry for your loss, Zennifer. I'm thinking of you and Dexter and tipping my wine glass to Kitty Heaven in memory of him.

Muffy: From the Beginning...

2010-08-14T14:44:00.000-05:00

This weekend was my first bridal shower! I was very excited and had a slight feeling of anxiety since the spotlight would be on me for an entire evening, or so I thought.....
The shower started off great - all of my favorite foods (chicken wings and tortilla wraps), brightly wrapped boxes with pretty bows, roses in every shade of pink, and plenty of booze to lubricate the event! I knew a number of my friends couldn't make it since the party was scheduled on a summer weekend, but my core group was there and I was ready to finally feel like a bride! Up until the presents start coming, being a bride is totally overrated in my opinion.....
During the gift opening segment, Drunkie L.A. keeps answering her ringing cell phone to give her boyfriend directions to the shower! (Since when do guys want to come to a bridal shower?) So, he finally pulls up after about four phone calls with bad directions, and Drunkie L.A. is well....drunk, and prances him in front of all the girls and rubbing her drunk jubblies all over him and pirouetteing her blond drunk ass in the center of the party...did I mention she was drunk? So after she fixes him a plate of (my) chicken wings, we all resume our positions for the gift opening. As if that one interruption wasn't enough, then she begins to shout, "Open my present! Open mine next!" Now, normally, I'd be happy to open any damn present someone wants to throw at me - but in this case, it was one of those Hour Showers...meaning, each guest was assigned a designated hour of the day to base their gift. (i.e. 8AM - Coffee cups & a waffle iron or some shit....) Drunkie L.A.'s time wasn't until 7PM.....you can see where this is going. She A) was SCREAMING in my friend's living room where we're all within 3 feet of eachother, and B) hadn't been paying attention to the whole party theme anyway.... So, Drunkie L.A. finally decided she couldn't wait any longer and had to leave the party with her new beau. He was taking her to his cabin, after all - and she simply couldn't make him wait any longer. WFT?!?! She showed up an hour late, was on the phone half the time she was there, invites her boyfriend to the party, and then leaves early! Seriously - where is this girls' manners?! And the worst part.....she's family. She'll forever be doing shit like this....

WTF, MTV?!

2010-07-21T12:03:00.000-05:00

Am I supposed to assume that Catelynn and Tyler are breaking up?! Is nothing FOREVER anymore?!?

My Weekend: By The Numbers

2010-07-19T12:09:00.002-05:00

One: the number of beers left in my fridge after the weekend.

Two: the number of days I spent insulating the kitchen.

Two: the number of band-aids I'm wearing this morning to work.

Two: the number of trips I made to the ER this weekend with Commander.

Sixteen: the number of screams Commander made when his knee cap dislocated.

Three: the number of doctors it took to figure out what the fuck happened to Commander's knee.

Six: the number of trips I made to Home Depot.

Thirteen: the number of times I looked up on the internet how to insulate a kitchen.

Eight: the number of arms it takes to hold up a vapor barrier so one can tack hammer it to the ceiling.

How ever many bones there are in the human body: the number of sore bones I have today.

A Girl That Rocks.

2010-07-12T14:32:00.002-05:00

If you haven't checked out this completely sweet and touching blog, you must go there now and check it out. Jennie Sewell and her photography will make you completely jealous of adorable couples in love and all the sparkly, beautiful weddings and will make you want to get married all over again, just so you can have awesome pictures like these.

And while you're there, click once more and go vote to make her blog the Best Wedding Photography blog on the planet. Now go! You're wasting time...voting ends 7/15/10. And there's no annoying personal info questions either...it's a piece of (wedding) cake.

With as much HGTV that I watch, you'd think I'd be totally psyched to renovate my house.

2010-07-12T12:42:00.003-05:00

But, ironically, I am not.

Commander and friends tore out my kitchen on Saturday, and now I can see clean through the floor to the laundry room in the basement. It's completely freaking me out. From my dining room, I peer into the vast empty hole that was my kitchen a mere 48 hours ago and can't help but wonder what the hell I've done to my house. Suddenly, I'm longing for my wonky cabinets that wouldn't close all the way and the minuscule, albeit dingy, countertop I used for prep space. Because now, there's utterly nothing left of the kitchen that lived there.

I think I loved that kitchen, but in actuality, it did not love me back. It was horribly cramped, poorly lit and had ridiculously small storage capacity. It was like making dinner in a closet.

Yet, without it, I feel pathetically lost and uneasy. My refrigerator is in my living room and I have no where to clean vegetables or wash dishes. Commander boasted he could rip out the kitchen in "One Weekend!", while sadly, I'm afraid it will take 100x that long to put one back in.

I can see you.

2010-06-25T13:30:00.002-05:00

To whoever found my blog by Googling "Why does my mom turn me on?".....

Um.....Ew.

Unsolicted Advice.

2010-06-24T13:50:00.002-05:00

Dear Men who read My Friends Are Sluts,

Women like and expect foreplay. The act of foreplay not only sets the mood, but in most times is physically required to make sure things go smoothly. This includes but is not limited to; kissing, stroking, rubbing, biting (ooo - careful!), licking, grinding and lots of heavy petting. What will not suffice is lying next to your woman on the bed, while naked and sporting a boner with the offer of "Do Your Thang".

This will undoubtedly not get you laid.

Just trying to help,
Muffy

Been a while....

2010-06-23T11:26:00.002-05:00

Last weekend, Commander and I finally got off our duffs and flew down to St. Louis to see his aging parents. It's been much too long since we had a visit with them, and to be honest, after my MIL's stroke in February, I was a little nervous about staying a weekend there.

Commander's parents now have full-time in-home care. It's like a little business inside their home with the nurses rotating in and out. It's weird to see his parents existence reduced to scribbles in a log of their daily meds, how many times they've gone to the bathroom, what they ate and how long they've slept. It does appear they are getting good care, though. Which definitely makes both of us feel better. The house is clean, the parents are clean and well fed, albeit I'm sure bored out of their minds....if they even have the wherewithall to be bored. It's not a life I would choose, but like I told Commander - we need to stop projecting our feelings onto them. If they are content with their life, we should be happy for them. After all, they are 85+...is there really anything they need to learn or do at this point? For instance, my MIL is on Lipitor. She's 85, wheel-chair bound and can only eat foods with the consistency of pudding or yogurt. Is it really all that important that they keep her on cholesterol meds? Give the woman want she wants and stop pumping useless drugs into her, is my opinion. But then again, I don't know shit. I just hate to see her struggle to swallow useless pills.

One perk of men getting older is their hormones seem to rage again. My 86 year old FIL strolled out of his bedroom naked on a recent morning and told his night nurse to give him a blow job. Swear to god, he actually said "blow job". How he even knows that word at 86 is somewhat mysterious to me; and obviously he's a little randy. Of course, Commander finds this endlessly funny. He reasons that you always gotta ask, because you never know when someone might say Yes. Until he caught his father staring at my cleavage over breakfast one morning and warned me to keep my distance. Even the nurses told me to stay out of arms reach. Um.....ew.

I am happy that we went and saw for ourselves how they are doing. I know it made Commander happy, too. Getting old and dealing with poor health is such an unfair ending to a long life.

Let the Games Begin

2010-06-10T10:54:00.001-05:00

Take THAT Weight Watchers!! Available in stores now - Woot! Woot!

Consider me blown away....

2010-05-27T09:06:00.000-05:00

Because, as it turns out, my friends matured their way out of being sluts.

My perpetually and shameless drunk SlutFriend, "Smashley", as she's known in finer circles, actually stayed in one night this past weekend to "lay low", "hang with her dog", and other nonsensical excuses I couldn't believe were coming from her mouth. Apparently, drinking had lost some of it's appeal now that she's all grown up and doesn't want to waste an entire Saturday laying on the couch eating chocolate cake and Doritos watching Lifetime Movies on TV.

And when Bestie's most tempting old flame walked into her office this past week, to see if his flicker still caught her attention; she simply shrugged, smiled and showed him out. A true display of Indifference Awesomeness.

Looky there....my girlies are all grown up. *Tear-Sniff*

Last night when I got home from Yoga Class...

2010-05-26T13:04:00.001-05:00

Commander: I wanted to watch golf on TV, but it wouldn't let me since somebody is recording a zillion episodes of Jerseylicious.

Muffy: Must have been the dog. She's a Prostitution Whore.

It's time to come clean.

2010-05-19T09:36:00.003-05:00

I've been hesitant about discussing this topic, because I wasn't quite sure how to come out with it, and also, I took comfort in keeping it quiet, even to my friends, because keeping it a secret from my friends allowed me to escape wallowing in the bullshit, so to speak. Now that I have told a few select people, they wanted to know why I hadn't told them earlier. Well...how do you call someone up and say, "Guess what?" It was easier to say nothing and hide the pain.

After many months of Commander and I trying to get pregnant, I ended up miscarrying in March. It happened very quickly and before I was even officially confirmed pregnant by a doctor. Commander was out of town back to back on work trips, and we were waiting for our upcoming appointment at the doctor's and before I had a chance to get excited about what was going on....it was gone.

What a shit storm those two weeks were. My heart was breaking over another month of a negative pregnancy test, then two positive tests, then the never ending period. Commander and I were beyond confused and our emotions were very raw. The momentum of waiting for such a miracle and then to have it stripped away from you so quickly feels like a violation. It compounded an already mysterious, frustrating and agonizing process.

So, we've decided to stop. Stop trying. Start living again. Stop crying and hurting when there's no pregnancy. Start remembering how happy we are and how good we have it. Stop blaming ourselves and start claiming our lives. It's not always easy to hear myself say out loud that I won't be a mother, or that we're not going to have children. But I am working on it. And the part that is easy is letting go of the stress and pressure I felt NOT getting pregnant. That is one thing I am grateful for.

What I've learned from watching the Real Housewives.

2010-05-14T12:50:00.001-05:00

It used to be, watching this show was strictly for mindless entertainment. I would have it on in the background while I was folding laundry or cleaning a room. However, New York and New Jersey’s seasons, have really laid all their cards on the table and taking drama up a bit – which, of course, is why I can’t stop watching.

I’ve definitely had my share of failed friendships. Whether they let me go, or I let them go, I used to always beat myself up about losing those friendships. I would tear myself up thinking that I’d never have the long term female friendships that, someone like my mother had. She was friends with the same women for 25+ years; and as I got into my 20s and cultivated strong female friendships, those were the ones that I thought would have lasted forever. And when they didn’t – I naturally assumed it was my fault, and for years, I told myself that.

Then, I got older. Gained a few years, gained a new perspective and gained maturity and confidence. Soon, I realized, that, No, Muffy. It’s not always your fault. That’s not to say I didn’t have a part in losing some friendships, because I most certainly did. However, it’s not as one sided as I would have had myself believe.

Fact is, there’s a lot of fucking nutty women out there. After two or three years of being friends with someone, and you continually ask yourself why you put up with this friend who makes you angry, frustrated and insignificant, you can find yourself kinda stuck. Stuck in a friendship that is only depleting you. I think that some women have a certain knack for sucking the life out of a friendship, and then leaving you to feel like shit.

Which is evident in the Real Housewives. Jill and LuAnn from NY, simply blow me away. Jill’s complete disregard of her role and responsibility and her juvenile behavior, just gets under my skin. LuAnn is just a gnat; please somebody step on her and make her go away. It’s probably because I had a Jill in my lifetime and even now when I think of it, I get angry of how much I tolerated with that friend, and how hard I tried to keep a friendship going. Her fight with Bethenny is ridiculous. There’s no merit to Jill’s accusations towards Bethenny. And another thing Jill, when a friend comes calling to make it up to you – be a grown up, deal with your feelings and accept the apology and move on. You’re not 7 Sweetheart, you’re an adult. What kind of friend are you in the first place when Bethenny comes to apologize that you put her on speaker phone for your posse to hear? Tacky and shameful. Jill Zarin is so busy thinking she’s a great friend and a loyal, thoughtful person; that she can’t see how her behavior completely contradicts that. Shit, she can’t even allow Alex to explain why her feelings were hurt. She simply won’t stand to listen to it. They way they justify their personal behavior makes me embarrassed for them.

And don’t even get me started on Danielle from New Jersey. She’s a ridiculous, immature, little brat. She sees “Light and Love” and has become a changed person, but then feels the need to trash those girls to anyone who’ll listen. It’s very unbecoming. She really turns me off.

Jill, LuAnn and Danielle are the types of women who say all the time, “I HATE Drama! I am so pure and innocent and HATE all drama!” When you and I both know good and God damn well that without drama, they would all shrivel up and cease to exist. Without their drama, they wouldn’t have anything going in their lives and their heart would simply stop pounding.

Wow. I really got myself worked up in a lather on them, huh? Oopsies. Oh well….it’s the weekend. Have a good one.

My dog is a lethal weapon.

2010-05-06T10:31:00.001-05:00

Last night my ferocious and protective lab-mix, Emma, battled the dangers of the bushes in our front yard and saved me from being mauled by a two-and-a-half pound bunny rabbit. Lucky thing for me she did, because that thing was sure to jump 5 feet straight into the air and go for my neck. I coulda been a goner…

Our afternoon walks are usually pretty uneventful, and last night when I took off her leash in front of our house to walk up the driveway, she took off like a bat outta hell and did this gazelle-like-leap all through the bushes. And I’m not kidding about the gazelle-like-leap part. Those leaps were truly ballet inspired. Usually, she just jumps around, stamps all over my plants, sniffs abruptly and walks inside with me to get her treat. Well, as soon as my back was turned long enough, a loud and shrill shriek came from inside the bushes. I knew damn well what had happened before I even had a chance to look.

Emma-1
Bunny-0

Once I finally got her attention and pulled her off the damn thing, and I tried to calm her down to distract her from her killer psychotic instincts, she looked so damn proud of herself I could hardly be upset with her. She was absolutely thrilled with herself, as if she had just won a Grammy or something.

I looked immediately at the neighbor across the street, because apparently, that whack-job thinks the bunnies are her friends. She claims she has tamed them and they come when she calls them. Now, if that ain’t God-Damn-Looney-Tunes, I don’t know what is. I guess she has a whole litter coming to her porch, where she puts out food for them. I recruited Commander to dispose of the dead bunny discreetly, and I’m hoping that she won’t notice one has gone missing. She has had it out for me and another dog-owning neighbor of mine, as if we deliberately are sending out our hounds to kill the neighborhood rabbits. Lucky for me this weekend is our neighborhood block party – let’s hope someone spikes her punch and she falls asleep early.

Weekend Wrap Up

2010-05-02T18:04:00.002-05:00

Friday night was dinner out at Ringo in St. Louis Park. Of course, first we had to meet at Crave for a pre-dinner cocktail, which has been our routine every time we go out with our friends for dinner. Ringo and Crave are directly next to each other so it was very convenient. The new Shoppes at West End is awesome, so if you haven't had a chance yet, go check it out.

Anyway, my nephew was home from school so he joined us for dinner. I could see his eyes start to glaze over as I was talking to his mom about skin care and party dresses. So, I start asking about school and the next thing you know we're talking about the environment and how we're all kinda burn down to nothing. Point of this story is: my nephew is a total bullshit artist. Now it's my eyes that are starting to glaze over. I swear that kid either has an abundant amount of useless information or a wild imagination. Nonetheless, at the end of the dinner, I gave the kid $100 and called it a day. Now, go back to school kid, and save my planet.

Saturday and Sunday Commander and I spent the majority of our time nesting at home. Planting flowers, cleaning the house, laundry and preparing meals. We grilled a chicken on Saturday night and rented It's Complicated. Good movie, in my opinion.

And right now, I'm avoiding studying for my final. So.... I guess I better get back to it. And so the week begins again. Ugh.....

To the girl who flipped me off at Whole Foods parking lot yesterday......

2010-04-27T11:39:00.002-05:00

Your boyfriend thinks you're a shitty driver, too. And, no doubt, considerably ugly.

My family is in a status competition.

2010-04-22T12:13:00.001-05:00

I come from a family of overachievers and the highly educated; unfortunately, those traits didn’t trickle down to this college drop-out, but I’ve managed to scrap my way up to a fairly respectable position and I’m back in school this semester taking a couple of classes, so, for now, I’m holding my head up high and I’ll get there one day. I’m just a late bloomer, is all.

But according to my family, unless you’re in two different meetings at once, jamming away on a presentation on your Blackberry and skipping meals and surviving on 2 hours of sleep a night – you ain’t worth shit. Which, apparently, is the case for my entire family besides myself. Because every time I call a member of my family, immediate or extended, all I hear about is how god damn busy they are. How important their schedule is. How much work they have to do, and how little sleep they are doing it on. I mean, from the sound of it, they are debating health care reform, rewriting the Bible, curing cancer, and hunting down Osama in the hills of Afghanistan on the weekends.

I can’t get my family members to return a phone call, and when they do, all I hear is how they are so busy, that they “Haven’t even had time to go to the bathroom!”. Listen up Fam-Damily, It’s not my fault you don’t make time to take care of your own business, and from now on, that trumps calling me back, because really? I just don’t need to hear it, alright? Do us BOTH a favor; sit down and take a shit and lose the attitude.

I mean, is it a badge or honor or something to be that fucking busy?! I can’t help but wonder if they just pile on their workload just to make themselves feel worthy or important. To me, it’s down right stupid. As I get older, I’m trying to find a way to work LESS, not more. I’m trying to find a way to sleep MORE, not less.

I may not have graduated from college (YET…Thanks, Obama.) But I certainly know the quality of life does not stem from working 24-7 and having the personality of ruler. To all my over achieving, narcissistic family members who are too busy to breath?

Get Over Yourself.

A New Life Plan.

2010-04-13T14:51:00.003-05:00

Okay, so I didn't get a chance to relay my thoughts to you in a timely manner on the Tiger Woods ad debuting during last week's Masters; but let me just say this,

"Tiger, if you're listening, I just want to know, how happy are you that you're not the only pig out there? You should send Jesse James a million friggin dollars."

Anyway - back to where I've been lately. Um...damn busy, I guess? School is almost over for the semester, and let me tell you, I, for one, have never been happier to have something behind me. Oh, and I had grandeous ideas about taking classes over the summer to expedite credits etc., etc., but after taking two classes this semester, working full time, trying to find time to see friends, take Emma on walks and maybe go out to dinner with my husband, I am declaring this summer to be the Summer of Muffy. I plan on playing more golf, going out to brunch, sitting by the pool, making plans on weeknights and in general, being slightly irresponsible with my time and money! Doesn't that sound fun?! How many times in your life does one simply allow themselves to goof-off all they want?! That hardly ever happens for adults. I think I shall start my own support group and become my first member. I'll call it "Adults at Play. Do Not Disturb."

Who is with me? Irresponsibility in numbers feels more secure.

She's one of the best. Goodbye Ms. Sugarbaker

2010-04-12T10:32:00.001-05:00

A Little Funny for your Thursday.

2010-04-08T10:53:00.002-05:00

comments on Tiger's creepy new Nike ad later....

I'm not dead, y'all.

2010-03-29T10:08:00.002-05:00

If you remember reading how my friends and I pimped out Smashley to a kind southern gentleman on our last trip to Hilton Head, SC, you’ll recall that he invited us to come down for a visit on his boat in Florida. More or less, the invite was just a way to get into Smashley’s pants again, but I’m willing to pimp my friends for a seaside vacation of any sort, so I accepted the invitation right away. Smashley took some convincing, but she soon remembered what a D-bag he was when they broke it off, so she figured he owed her one. You wanna pay for me and my friends to come spend a weekend on your boat over Spring Break in Florida? Um….SURE!! Let’s do it!

And so off we went…..

Smashley hadn’t seen the guy in four years. This could have gone very well, or very badly. Luckily for us, he was just as fun as we remember, and true to form; a complete gentleman. My fears of being pushed overboard with a pair of cement shoes were unfounded. He took very good care of us, wouldn’t let us buy a thing, and couldn’t have been more polite. He knew he eff’d up last time with Smashley, and I beamed when he doted on her. He really made the effort.

He took us to Fort Lauderdale one night, and in all my life, I’ve never been approached by more lesbians in one night. And when the lesbians were done, the swinging couples stepped in. Note to self: if a couple is suddenly nice to you for absolutely no reason and wants to chat you up – they want you to sleep with them. Both of them. At the same time. It’s not cool to buy me a dozen beers, tell me how much you’ve always wanted to visit Minnesota and then ask me to give your wife a kiss. Muffy don’t play that, so don’t even try. I’m on to you, ManBoobs….keep walking…but thanks for the beers.

Much love goes to Commander for letting me go. And, don’t give me any crap about saying “letting me go”, because honestly, if he told me he was going to stay on a boat with his buddies for a weekend with some strange woman with a shit ton of money, he better ask my permission first, too. He knew that I was going to support a friend, and to have a good time with my girls. Neither of us knew exactly where I was going, where I was staying, or if I was even going to have a private place to go Number Two, but he bit his tongue and told me to have fun. Gotta love the big guy….

And I think Smashley’s Beau might have reignited the flame. He bought her roses and calls three times a day since we’ve been back. He’s sent her gifts and is making plans to come and see her this weekend. I love it when guys realize they fucked up....

What To Do When My Waxer is on Maternity Leave

2010-03-12T12:10:00.000-06:00

I haven’t had a trip to Brazil since before I left for Mexico, and let me tell you, nature doesn’t wait for anyone; especially the short and curlies. It’s starting to look like a lumber yard down there. And I don’t mean bushy; I mean it’s spreading so far past my panty line, I might have to start wearing boxers. It’s beginning to look like I stuffed one of the Jackson 5 in my underpants. I’m leaving for Spring Break soon and how can I act like a slut, where nobody knows what kinda slut I really am, if I have to wear gigantic bottoms to cover the bush I’m pushing? It’s definitely not attractive; I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.

Tweezing? I only have until next Thursday, I don’t think there’s enough time.

Shaving? And ruin all the progress I’ve done over the last 18 months? Next.

New Waxer? God, I hate to have that first uncomfortable conversation with someone new all over again.

Nair? Maybe….although smelling like a tar pit isn’t exactly attractive either.

Sorry, World. You're just gonna have to look the other way.

It's getting serious in here.

2010-03-05T13:06:00.000-06:00

Last night I was talking pregnancy with Kiki. And yes, I’ve deliberately not mentioned it here yet, but Commander and I have been trying to get pregnant for quite some time now. A little over a year. Up until last night, I’ve had a very relaxed attitude about getting pregnant. My motto is that I’m going to “Play the cards I was dealt in life”, and not be pissed off about what kind of hand I was holding. Basically, if having a baby was something Commander and I were supposed to be doing, then awesome, bring it on. Otherwise, I’ve got no reason to complain. My life is pretty damn awesome, as is.

The only problem with this theory, besides other people’s opinions that I’m not doing enough to get pregnant, is that it is getting extremely difficult to ride the emotional baby roller coaster every month. The “Am I? Am I now? Why not? What’s happening? Holy shit, what if I am – now what?! I changed my mind, I don’t want this!” type of rollercoaster.

In the beginning, it was fine if another month went by and I wasn’t PG. And friends offering suggestions seemed normal and I appreciated it. I recognize the few friends that I have that I cannot be candid with about my feelings, and when they ask how baby-making is going, I quickly change the subject.

Because apparently, if you’re not doing in-vitro or semen analysis or anything and everything within your control to get pregnant; you’re a horrible woman. You’re not allowed to take a passive approach to conceiving and allow what’s going to happen, to happen. You’ve got to have a plan, a goal and decide what to do. Some of my friends understand my approach, while others consistently ignore me when I tell them I do not wish to get wrapped up into the minutia of whose fault it is that pregnancy isn’t happening for us. In my opinion, it creates a lot of resentment, frustration and accusations that just isn’t necessary. And besides, I know a lot of women who have completely ignored how great their lives are, as is, because they are so desperate to have a baby.

I hate the idea that because I’m a woman, I should be a mother. Because, what if I never get the chance? Does that make me less of a woman? Less of a person? It shouldn’t, but damn, people certainly have their opinions about it, don’t they?

Kiki has been super supportive through my emotional baby roller coasters, and I’m thankful for her. Because ultimately, if I’m not going to be a mother, my friends and Commander are all I’ve got.

And that? Is totally awesome.

My mom wants to turn me into a pot-head.

2010-03-03T12:03:00.002-06:00

My mom is usually super good in the sport of gift-buying. But this Christmas, she bought me an AeroGarden. And for those of you who don't know what that is, it's basically a contraption to grow plants, herbs or flowers indoors. It has an artificial neon light and it's totally a random gift. Along with personalized purse tissues and oversized University of Nebraska salad bowls, my mom loves to do her shopping at Tuesday Morning. I'm convinced she's slowly widdling away my inheritance at that place.

I guess the AeroGarden would be super useful if you lived in a condo or apartment and didn't have any of your own outdoor space to call your own, and you had a huge urge to grow some shit. My mom got it for me because I'm basically a Green Thumb Retard and can't manage to make anything grow. The AeroGarden came with seven pre-seeded pods of herbs. Which, since I really like to cook and am tired of throwing my money away on super expensive fresh herbs from the store and those stupid plastic clamshells they come in, I decided to give the AeroGarden a try. I had parsley, basil, dill, mint, chives, thyme, and purple basil.

This device is designed to be fool proof, but not Muffy-Proof, therefore, when the little basil seed pod didn't sprout, I went searching for answers online. So....I bet you can't guess what other uses people have discovered for an artificial garden that stays inside your house where nobody can get to it, especially the police or nosey neighbors, and far away from squirrels or bunnies looking for a quiz buzz? That's right! Mary-gee-wanna!! (I know this isn't how it's spelled, but really, when people start Googling Sluts and Mary-gee-wanna, because believe me, they do; I don't think they intend to come to this type of website. Especially when it's 2:30AM and they need a fix of one kind of another. They are looking for a different kind of website all together. Trust me on this one.....)

I was pretty damn surprised when I found myself on a AeroGarden discussion board and all the different techniques used to grow pot. I had no idea that my mom was such a pusher. I sure hope she doesn't have cancer or something and expect me to grow her medicinal mary-g. I mean...she can totally get Asian lady next door to grow her pot for her, I don't need the hassle, okay, Mom? That's a lot of pressure and you know how much I suck at being responsible and following through with things. Don't put your cancer on me, okay?! You were the one running naked through the nuclear waste, not me! You mess with the fire and you get the horns, young man. Or something like that.....

Anyway, I dont' know what my mom is trying to tell me, but I'm pretty sure she's a closet pot head and wants to turn me into one, too.

Holy Crap, it's March already.

2010-03-01T13:23:00.002-06:00

Okay, seriously? Where the hell did February go? I mean, for realz, y'all, I feel like I totally missed it. First of all, I was out of town on my birthday, which I totally do NOT recommend for those of you who like to be pampered and fussed upon. Despite being in Mexico on a beach on my birthday and with friends and Commander, I still felt like it went by without any real recognition and I'm sorry - that just won't DO! I need Love Affection Attention and Gifts. So, I feel like I got short changed on that this year. Hence why February flew right frickin' on by.

I am happy that we are over the hump of winter, so to speak. Everything is melting and the sky is blue and the sun is a tiny bit more intense. I took Emma for a walk yesterday around the lakes, and I thought I was super brilliant when I forced her to wear doggie boots so I wouldn't have a mud hound at the end of our walk. Have you ever seen a dog walk with booties? Oh, dear Lord - get yourself a dog, go buy it some booties and then force them to walk around in the house in them - you will pee yourself and die from laughter. I could barely keep from laughing to myself during our walk. I'm sure people thought I was smoking dope, but no, I just like to humilate my dog in public. Half way around the lake, she figured out how to kick them off, and no matter how many times I'd put them back on, she'd kick them right off again. Definition of insanity, I tell you.

Oh...and one little perk from February......

Wedding reception in 1983 for you and 50 of your closest friends: $4,000
The next 17 years of your life married to LadyEx: $99,987,423 gazillion million dollars
The look on LadyEx's face when she realizes the NEW and MORE AWESOME wife wrote her alimony check this month: PRICELESS.

if only I could be a fly on the wall.....

My time in Mexico.

2010-02-22T14:25:00.003-06:00

When Bestie goes on vacation, she soaks up so much sun, she can easily be mistaken for Mexican. Her skin soaks up that sun and she can hold on to that tan for weeks. Me? I'm back from vacation for a measley four days and my tan has evaporated. And when I "tan", it's actually just all of my age spots temporarily touching each other.

I am not a good candidate for a ton of sun exposure. My skin turns from a creamy alabaster tone to a blotchy red and freckled mess. The first day on vacation, I burned my shins and my taint. That was it. The rest of me was butt ass white, and don't even get me started on what happens to my hair in that humidity. My hair shrinks up and I end up walking around the beach looking like Beavis and Butthead who torched their shins on a crack pipe. It's pretty pathetic.

I decided to treat myself to a Mexican massage one cloudy morning. Little did I know, they practically do everything but tickle the bean for you in a Mexican massage room. That little Mexican working his tiny Mayan hands all over my white trunk of a rib cage, I could help but flash him a shot of my pepperonis. I had no idea they did that in Mexico.....That's certainly different from the kind of massages I get back home in Minnesota.

As much as I love Mexico and their food, it will be a cold day in hell before I eat another tortilla chip. I had so much guacamole and chips, I feel like I have an avocado pit growing in my gut. And their guaccamole wasn't even that good. Just mushed up green stuff, I like it with some bite. The margaritas were good, but I mostly stuck to Dos Equis. Not one shot of tequila, either.

On our way....

2010-02-08T12:12:00.002-06:00

This is exactly what I'm hoping to see over the next few days. Mama Commander is still far from normal, but at this point, we're in a holding pattern. So, we've decided to go ahead with our vacation plans. It's either waiting for an outcome in Minneapolis, or waiting for the outcome in Mexico. And God knows, Commander needs this vacation 1000x over.

Now that the realization of all this is starting to settle in (and it's barely just 'starting'), Commander confessed to me that he's concerned about getting older first and becoming a burden on me when we're old and gray. He's got the whole world on his shoulders right now, and he's concerned about me and our future. He's too much, such a wonderful man and boy, oh boy, is he putting himself through the ringer right now.

I wish I could be more help to him. Ease his mind a little. But what I can't do, I'm hoping Mexico can.

Adios Amigos. Be back in a few...

Muffy

2010-02-04T12:35:00.002-06:00

Thanks for all the well-wishes for my MIL, guys. Unfortunately, Mama Commander is really slipping. Commander flies down there this afternoon to visit her.

We're supposed to be going to Mexico this Tuesday for a week, however, if things keep going downhill, we'll have to say Hasta Luego to Mexico this year. Which is no bueno, but, obviously, family comes first.

The only thing that really breaks my heart is sending Commander off on his own to visit his dying mother. We both crumbled earlier this week at a cell phone picture of her in the hospital, and I can't imagine Commander's reaction once he sees her in person. I won't be there to comfort him and that kills me. Mind you, Commander likes to play the Super Macho Card in practically every situation, so actually witnessing his vulnerable side is something close to meeting Santa Clause. Still, I wish he didn't have to do this alone.

Ugh....crummy feeling in my gut and it's crummy outside. I could really go for a giant piece of chocolate cake.

You take the good; you take the bad. You take them both and what do you have?

2010-02-01T09:18:00.001-06:00

Here’s a day by day breakdown of my weekend’s highs and lows:

Friday

High: Smashley, Crapper and I booked our flights to West Palm Beach courtesy of the ToolBox Smashley met four years ago. It’s been that long since the girls and I have been on vacation together, so I couldn’t be more thrilled to go.

Low: Being sidelined with a shit ton of homework and burning the pizza I bought for dinner.

Saturday

High: Spending the afternoon with Commander at the Como Zoo and Conservatory in St. Paul. Beautiful winter flowers were bursting with color while a wedding party took place in the Conservatory. In the zoo, I got to see Spider Monkeys, a Reindeer and even a baby giraffe. Afterwards, Commander and I stopped at Muffaletta for a glass of wine, French bread and roasted garlic spread. There’s something so special and relaxing about drinking wine while the long shadows linger over the pink hue of the sun as it says goodbye for the day. It was a perfect afternoon.

Low: Watching the movie The Hurt Locker. Great movie, but it left me exhausted. Anger, sadness, fear, happiness and hostility is a lot of shit to feel in a two hour time span. I kinda felt psychotic.

Sunday

High: Sunday mornings nesting with Commander and Emma over breakfast and the paper.

Low: Commander’s mother had a stroke a few weeks ago and the brothers called yesterday to tell us that she’s not improving. She’s at death’s door and it’s incredibly difficult to hear and unfair her life is ending in this dispicable way.

I know I'm not alone here!

2010-01-28T11:38:00.000-06:00

I watch a lot of crap TV. Totally stupid, mind-numbing, burning brain-cell television. I get how lame it is to watch, and I don’t blame anyone for teasing me. Commander thinks some of the people on these shows should be killed or be forced to listen to Black Eyed Peas until their ears bleed, but I don’t share his anger toward to weak programming of today.

In fact, I crave it and get giddy when it’s Tuesday and the Real Housewives of Orange County is on in only TWO more days! Can’t wait! BTW – Has Bravo, like, totally cornered the market on trash TV? Seriously, that channel is like crack for eyes. I’m obsessed with every damn show on that station. I could be half dead on the sidewalk somewhere, but if I had a TV in front of me tuned to Bravo, I might just pass away peacefully.

However, MTV has really hooked me with their teeny-bopper hit Teen Mom. Oh, dear lord, it’s a tragic hot mess. And whhyyyy am I interested in Teen Mom, you ask? Um, shit – I don’t know. Am I a Teen? No. Am I a Mom? No. Am I easily amused by the menoosha of people’s lives on TV? Pretty much, yeah.

If you don’t know what this show is, you’ve probably got, like, a life with friends and social activities and maybe even some dignity. Yet, if you do know what this show is and want to read the world’s funniest recap of Amber’s Asian Face, Maci and her ‘dreamboat’ boyfriend Ryan, Farrah and her drugged out mother, and Catelynn and Tyler’s puppy love, and get the inside scoop of all that is the dramz of Teen Mom – then you must read Andy’s recap on Wild Ars Chase.

It’s some super seriously funny shiz,y’all. He also has a brilliant idea of turning Teen Mom into a drinking game, which in all seriousness, is probably how they turned out to be Teen Mom’s in the first place.

Commander = AWESOMENESS

2010-01-26T13:04:00.001-06:00

Because he scored tickets to the Chelsea Handler Book tour coming through town in April!!!

HOLLER!!!!

2010-01-25T12:13:00.002-06:00

About four years ago, a pack of friends and I headed down to our friend's condo in Hilton Head, SC. I had never been to theSouth-Eastern Coast before, so I was pscyhed to go check it out. There was also some PGA Tour going on when we were there, but our friend promised us long sandy white beaches and lots of cocktails with southern hospitality so I was more than willing to go. Turns out our hostess is a fuzz mouth bitch, because not even 48 hours into our vacation, our friend decides kick us out of her condo! And I mean...kick us out of her condo, with our luggage, withOUT a place to stay for the rest of the week, all while the city is hosting a God Damn PGA Tour so chances of booking a hotel room are like zero to none. And dont' even begin to ask me why the hell this crazy whorebucket threw us out, because it's four years later and I still dont' know.

Well, we're resourceful girls, right? It didn't take us long to find a Southern Gentleman who would listen to our woeful sob story of being homeless on a vacation while stranded amongst a gazillion golfers who had reserved all the affordable rooms in town. Only through the kindness of one particular handsome stranger were we able to find a very nice hotel and the very nice price of $Free.99.

Of course, we had to pimp Smashley to hook up with him, which wasn't really much of a task anyway, because he was sweet on her and she was sweet on him and a little social lubrication a.k.a. alcohol seemed to blend the two little lovebirds nicely. In fact, I don't even think she stayed in our hotel room the rest of the week. However, the three of us who were left to enjoy the gigantic puffy soft bed linens and luxurious accomodations of a 4-star hotel didn't really even notice her absence.

Their sweet and dirty romance lasted for a few months after we returned home. He flew her down to see him half a dozen times, but after a while it fizzled out. He was starting a new business and focusing on work or some other made-up shit excuse he gave and suddenly...POOF...he disappeared.

Fast forward four years and the sum bitch is back. This time with apologies and remorse. By now, Smashley is long over it and we can all look back and laugh at our trip and their romance and how random the whole thing was.

He wants to make it up to her and bring all of us down for a long weekend in Charleston, SC. No strings attached. I, obviously, think she should double-do-it and not even think twice! She is single, after all and who the fuck gets an offer like that? He wants to fly all of us down there AND pay for our hotel? For her and three of her friends?!

Uh..HELL.To.The.Yes, Sister! My bags are already packed.

Vacation has it's ups and downs.

2010-01-20T10:30:00.003-06:00

This morning, Commander announced to me that his shirts were getting too tight and he couldn't wear them anymore. Is it because I'm feeding him salami and cheesy potatoes on a daily basis? No. It's because he's been working out with a personal trainer and his chest and arms are getting too big for his dress shirts.

Boo, fuckin', hoo Honey. It's just such a bummer your clothes are too tight because you're getting so muscular. (Insert disgusted sigh here.)

When my clothes are too tight, I torture myself with new made-up, ridiculously caloric deficient diets, like only taking 8 bites of dinner, or eating 3 apples for lunch. I drink enough water for me to float to the bathroom and never have I ever had the guts to announce out loud that my clothes are getting too tight. I think I might die of embarrassment before I actually slap a label on my fat ass like that.

And while I'm at it, whoever designed swimsuits for the sexes is an asshole. Commander's swimsuit is an oversized pair of boxers that hide inner thighs and the potential muffin top. Who knows what's really going on under there?! While my swimsuit looks like it's being eaten by my crotch, getting sucked in by the vortex of my va-jay-jay. There is no possible way to camoflauge my inner thighs and muffin top, and I refuse to dress like Dorothy Zbornak on my vacation.

Planning clothing options for vacation is heartbreaking. Thank goodness there will be alcohol. The world might be ready for the hairy legs and armpits of the German Women, but I don't think they are ready for this jelly.

By the way Commander, You are looking very hot. I predict lots of naughty time in Mexico.

An actual email between Bestie and I on Tuesday...

2010-01-13T08:56:00.000-06:00

Bestie: Just because you would want to know, I had a “nasty-nasty” dream this morning about My Ex. AND, I decided he was much nicer in my dreams then in real life, so it was a win/win for all!!

Muffy: Yeah, because virtual Ex is way better than actual Ex. Because the actual Ex is a douche and the virtual one will make you bacon.

A Repeat; but since it happened AGAIN last night, I thought I'd reshare.

2010-01-12T09:47:00.001-06:00

Dear Commander,

I rarely complain, right? I'm an easy go-lucky kinda gal, wouldn't you say? And 10 months into it, I'm still over-the-moon happy that we're married and settling in to our little life and routine. You've got it pretty good, I mean - you are the Commander and I'm perfectly content with you running the ship while I swap the deck, so to speak...

However, when swapping the deck includes me waking up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and stepping in a pancake-sized pee-puddle next to the toilet because you were too lazy to bother turning on the light and aiming your stream through the giant circle seat, I will get testy.

Seriously - how long have you been peeing standing up? Isnt' the first rule of Big Boy Urinating to get it INTO the bowl? And not down the side of the bowl, on the side of the vanity, wastebasket and inevitably all over the floor? Come to think of it, I should check the mirror, too.

While I realize, that when you're 80, and I will still be a spry slight woman of 67 years, I'll be wiping your saggy old man ass and rolling your walnut-sized balls in my palms to see if you can still feel your feet, I do not wish to wipe up your pee when you're 47. Please eradicate pee from floor and from now on, no more peeing in the dark.

Your loving wife,
Muffy

My Weekend Objectives

2010-01-10T18:06:00.004-06:00

Drive to Des Moines 12 hours after a crushing snowstorm in blistering cold weather and arrive safely in one piece? Check.

Immediately upon arrival, pour myself an extra strong vodka cocktail to congratulate myself on driving defensively for four straight hours? Check.

Give Smashley and Taylor their Christmas presents and have quality girl time with one of my besties? Check.

Second vodka cocktail? Check.

Doll myself up to meet an old friend from high school, which I haven't seen in probably 17 years and do my best to make a damn good first impression? Check.

Indeed make that damn good first impression? Doubtful.

Wear my grandmother's gigantic fur coat and walk around town looking like a giant furball with legs? Um, unfortunately, yes.

Hugs and catching up with old friend and realizing we have a shit ton of stuff in common? Check.

Continue to drink red wine at feverish speeds with little food to soak it up? Oh, sure I did. My drinking arm was all warmed up!

Insist drinking more beer is necessary? Check.

Decide to drag all my friends to a raging gay dance club and perform tom-foolery on the dance floor? Oh! Hell! and Yes!

A---DORE old friend to pieces?!?!? Abso-fuckin-lutely!! (Although, hearing my mom's boyfriend once hit on this friend still makes me wanna gag a little! BLECH! You poor thing!)

Wake up next morning unable to brush my own teeth and crawl back to bed to make the room stop spinning and have hangover shakes for the remainder of the weekend? Ah, yeah. That'd be me, too.

Bravo, Muffy! Bra-vo.

Waking up early makes me cranky.

2010-01-06T11:24:00.000-06:00

Despite what Jess says about the lack of Resolutioners at her gym, I’m experiencing quite the opposite where I work out. In fact, I got my happy ass up at 5.30 this morning, just so I could escape the pandemonium and madness that is the cardio floor at my gym come in the hours after work. But my plan was thwarted again this morning when I walked in and saw that all of my beloved treadmills were already spoken for.

I cursed under my breath as I took my place on an elliptical machine. And God Damn, if all those early-risers weren’t just walking on those treadmills. Walking. Piss me off. As I continued to observe and continue to curse (I’m a little cranky at 5:30 AM) I noticed that one woman had her husband switch treadmills with her because she couldn’t figure out how to change the channel on her TV. Then she stopped her treadmill again to go over to her husband and ask him if he’d walk on the treadmill next to her that suddenly became open. Jesus Christ, Woman! You’ve stopped your work out three times in the last 15 minutes and for what? For a channel change and to walk next to your husband? DUMB! Listen lady, do your dumb self a favor – focus on your own workout. You’ll get much more out of it. And be happy with the channel you’ve got. Everybody else has to live with it, why can’t you? Don’t be a menace to the rest of us who get to the gym on a regular basis.

Yeah, and how about wiping down your machine when you’re done with it? The gym only has signs posted about every two feet to be courteous to your fellow gym members and wipe your grimy sweaty germs off a machine when you’re done. Oh, and to the lady who waited exactly 5 seconds after I was done with my elliptical machine to hop on it herself – it’s usually customary to politely wait aside until I’ve removed my water bottle from the machine. I simply walked away for those few seconds to grab the spray and a paper towel and wipe off my machine.

Getting ready for work at the gym is no treat either. Schlepping my crap all over the place is completely annoying. And it’s not easy to figure out how to pack a scalding hot flat iron in my bag without burning or melting my other supplies. I didn’t want to carry every damn hair product I have to the gym, so my hair is a little wonky and my make up looks a little off, too. The lighting in those locker rooms is terrible. And having to fight for space at the sink or for a hairdryer is completely annoying, too.

I don’t think I’ll ever be a Morning Workout Person. Too much bouncing that early in the morning.

It's The New Year n' shit.....

2010-01-05T12:10:00.002-06:00

Happy New Year ' shit, everyone! I used to know this girl who would always put a "n' shit" on the tail end of everything she said. I'd always smile when I'd get a birthday card from her and she'd write, "Happy Birthday n' shit!" because I could just hear her voice when I'd read it.

Anyway, this is the time of year when I am all tingly and smiley inside because I have such high hopes for the bright and shiny year. My birthday is just around the corner and I always promise myself that I'm going to have a flat tummy and higher boobs by my big day. Every damn year. And despite all those damn crunches and miles I've logged, I'm no closer than I was last year. Hey bikini - go fuck yourself, ok? You and I have never been friends and I'm tired of your backstabbing. You will not see Spring Break this year, you little shit. I have NO use for you. Suck it.

As usual, this New Year's Eve, I wanted to look cute for my date with Commander. I went in search of a cute little outfit or a new top to wear, and dammit it all to hell if I couldn't find one decent thing that looked good. And I'm not even bitching about my size right now - I'm gonna bitch about not knowing how the eff' I'm supposed to dress in this stage of my life.

I'm about to turn 37 and I have NO idea what is appropriate to wear for my age. I'm not a mom, so it's not that I'm at all worried about setting a bad example for my kids; it's just that I feel like I am stuck between dressing like an old lady/soccer mom, or dressing like a twenty-something going out to the dance clubs. I don't do the dance club scene anymore, so you will not find me in a teeny tiny tank top when it is -10 degrees outside. You just won't. I am in such a juxtaposition about what's cute, what's too young, what's too old, what's too preppy and what's too boring.

Also, I do not want to spend $300 for ONE shirt. Only if my name was Jennifer Aniston would I buy a shirt that expensive because I'm assuming I'd get to carry her credit cards, too.

I'm 36 years old and seriously struggling with how to dress myself.

Christmas Recap

2009-12-28T10:38:00.004-06:00

Here we go....Sing along if you like.

12 Christmas Cookies
11 Inches of snow
10 Mistletoe Martinis
9 Trips to Target
8 Loads of Laundry
7 Extended family members
6 Games of Blokus
5 Snowy walks
4 Sleeping in late
3 Midnight movies
2 New outfits
1 Dyson Vacuum Cleaner!

As requested by Little Miss Blogger.....The Mistletoe Martini recipe!

1 ½ oz. citrus vodka
¾ oz. pomegranate juice
¾ oz. defrosted lemonade concentrate (strained of pulp)
2-3 drops orange blossom water
Ice
Cava (or any dry sparkling wine)
Shaker and strainer
Martini glass
Garnish: Equal parts red, white and green decorative sugar
Pomegranate seeds
Orange twist
Directions: Rim half the martini glass with sugar. Combine all ingredients except cava. Shake and strain into glass. Top with cava. Sprinkle pomegranate seeds into drink and garnish rim with orange twist.

(borrowed from vita.mn)

Things I Learned Over The Weekend....

2009-12-22T01:41:00.000-06:00

People don't know how to park between the white lines at the Target Greatland parking lot.
Never take your kids to go Christmas shopping for other kids. (Learned this one through observation, and I don't blame your little girl for crying and stomping her feet. That would piss me off, too. It's like Commander taking me to go shopping for his girlfriend. Um, no - I don't think so.)
Commander doesn't care much for masacara shopping. And no, they are not all the same and there is a difference between 'Black' and 'Very Black'.
The peanut butter chocolate kiss cookie combo is way better than the sugar cookie cut out kind.
Christmas shopping is actually kinda hard.
Only open a magnum bottle of wine when you have a shit ton of friends over who want to get drunk. Otherwise, you will be drinking the same freaking wine for weeks.
Home Depot is the biggest freaking store on the planet.
Wrestling with the dog will pull a muscle in your back and sleeping will suck for the next two days.
Naps, too.
Drinking lots of red wine makes my contacts stick to my eyes.

In the library with a candlestick...

2009-12-20T20:18:00.005-06:00

Thursday night was our company Christmas party at one of our owner's house. It's the first time in 3 years that any of us have felt like celebrating, since we finally landed some clients this year, and hopefully will be back to making money soon. Damn, job security is a great feeling!

In all honesty, I was a bit dismayed about having to attend this particular Christmas party. You see, the host of the party wanted to do one of those Murder Mystery Dinners, where the guests come dressed up as a particular character, and a little game of Inch Eye Private Eye occurs all evening until you find the murderer amongst us. I had heard of these so-called "party games" before, but I have never attended one myself. And being that Commander and I are somewhat crumudgeons, Iwasn't sure if I was up for the challenge. And I certainly didn't think Commander would want to participate in Mr. Rogers' Make Believe with my socially awkward co-workers.

Just goes to show that a little alcohol can serve very well as social lubrication. The evening, albeit a little awkward, was pretty enjoyable. Given the fact that I barely get a "Hello, Muffy!" in the morning and a "Goodnight, Muffy!" in the evening from my lovely co-workers, I figured an entire evening of conversation, while ACTING, might be a bit of a stretch. Gladly, I was wrong. Maybe my hard exterior crusty personality is softening now that we're all making money and I don't have to be pissed off anymore. But let's not plan another Murder Mystery party anytime soon, mmmkay?