Back in August, I was gearing up to deal with a major ass-rape of a week at work, so every morning was a struggle to find the motivation to get out of bed. One particular morning, I sluggishly made my way out to the car and when I got inside, there was a surprise on my dashboard. My sweet, dear, Puff had left me a motivational card saying how much he loved me and knew I would get through the craziness at the office and come out alive on the other side. (Ahhh... the joys of being newlyweds!)
Also included inside the card was a $50 gift card to Victoria's Secret. Nothing like sexy lingerie as a pick-me-up on a crappy morning, right? Our friend, Keith, kept picking on us that it was really a gift for Puff and not for me. Eh... I'm pretty willing to accept anything that's free, even if it means I've got to go to the mall. And Lord knows how much I hate the damn mall. So after online searches through neon green lace thongs and see-thru teddies, we made the decision to go to the store instead. Yes, we're total Jews when it comes to not wanting to pay shipping chages. (I look forward to your letters.)
So tonight, we had a date night. Oh, those rascally, rebellious newlyweds, having a date night on a Wednesday! Yes! A Wednesday! And a "date night" that really equates to shopping for sexy bras and panties, no less! It's mildly unsettling to shop in a Victoria's Secret with my husband... who is not exactly known for being quiet and subtle. There was lots of touching the merchandise and discussions about water bras and gel inserts and the difference between a "tanga" and a "cheeky." In the end, we came away with everything we needed... because quite frankly, who could live without hot pink lacy zebra print cheekies????
The hardest part, however, of going into the store is this....
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
My intial plan for this blog was to post some archives to give you a taste of what I'm capable of delivering. However, sometimes life just drops a gem in your lap that you just can't ignore. And Puff gave me such a gem this past weekend. He decided it was the right time to step up and do something manly. To do something earthy and gritty and respectable. It was time for him to go camping. Alone.
In the vast, wild wilderness that encompasses our fenced in backyard.
It all came about Friday night when we were coming home from a pizza & beer excursion with some friends. One of our neighbors had a large yellow & white tent set up in their backyard. Ya know, the ones that are used for parties or weddings or family reunions... something fairly socially acceptable. Well, seeing that tent, a lightbulb clicked in Puff's head, "A ha! I have a tent!" And do you know why two people who are reasonably urban and like indoor plumbing even OWN a tent? Because last spring, Puff hit the 5 year mark with his company. Along with such an occasion comes a catalog full of items one can choose a gift from. And for some reason, unbeknownst to me, the things he thought we needed most were a tent and a sleeping bag. You can trust me when I say that had I known there was a catalog full of gizmos and gadgets that we might actually use, there's no way I would have happily accpeted that box from the UPS man that day.
So, Saturday afternoon, after helping a friend move some furniture and hitting up the pool for a little while, we gathered up everything a good outdoorsman would need and set up the two-person tent in our yard, right under the giant old oak tree. As we were assembling it, I was very careful to make sure that the opening faced toward our house, to lessen the "creep-factor" for Suzy Neighbor.
And yes, Saturday night, after a nice dinner out with friends and some beer and strudel from an Oktoberfest, I snuggled into our nice, big, new bed, under our down comforter and he ventured out into the darkness with his little flashlight. And he survived. He made it safely back to the confines of The Bungalow a little sore and a little wet. That 40% chance turned to a 100% chance in the early morning hours.
However, the best reaction of it all was when Kimhead showed up at our house and saw the blue & yellow tent stoically sitting at the back of our property. After a doubled-over fit of giggles, she had a very serious question about the whole expedition. It wasn't a question about bugs or rain or supplies or even wild moose. Nope. Her question?
"Well, aren't you scared of the gangs?"
I am happy to report there were no sightings of any anti-camping gangs in our neighborhood last night. We dodged the bullet.
Posted by Gail at 9:51 AM
Friday, September 24, 2010
WELCOME one and all! Thank you to all of you who have been dedicated to following me on my non-publicized blog for the last 6 years. And a big hello to all of you newbies who will hopefully find something you like along the way as this new venture gets under way. Now to get a little housekeeping out of the way...
For the sake of this blog, my name is Gail. I'm in my late-20s and am currently living somewhere in the great state of South Carolina. For a few reasons, I'm not going to be much more specific than that... namely for the fact that if you knew exactly where I lived, you might happen upon our house early in the morning and spot me running naked past an open window or if you get offended by something I say (and yes, sooner or later, you will get offended) you might attempt to leave a flaming bag of poo on my front porch. And since our front door opens with a key from the inside, that fire might get out of hand pretty fast and I just don't want to have to deal with firemen while I search for a lost key, probably all while being naked. But if you're adept at all with using the InterGoogle, I'm sure you'll be able to narrow down our city soon enough with mentions of all the awesomely cool stuff we do.
I am recently married to the coolest guy I know. I have to write that "I know" part because obviously if I was hanging out with Johnny Depp on a regular basis, the husband probably wouldn't fare very well. For the sake of this blog, his name is Puff. (Or on occasion, if I slip up, he might be referred to as DH, which can simultaneously stand for "Dear Husband" or "Dick Head.") He got the nickname Puff one morning when his strange breathing sounds woke me and I had to fight the urge to smother him with the nearest pillow. For some reason it reminded me of what I imagine a dragon breathing would sound like, and therefore, he was dubbed Puff in the blogosphere. You're welcome, honey.
Puff and I both have jobs. His has something to do with buying and selling crap. He makes enough money to pay the bills, take cool vacations, and keep us in "The Bungalow" and that's good enough for me. I also have a job. I work with clients and I work with the public. All of that is pretty awesome, especially since I'm well-known for hating people. Especially the idiocy of the general public as a mass. And since I do honestly enjoy what I do for a living, there probably won't be much specific mention of it. I would like to keep my job.
The extent of any back-story you need to know is that Puff was raised in the thriving metropolis of Atlanta, Georgia, while I was raised in the great white North in a place I'll refer to as "The Fort." I'm an only child with two step-siblings and Puff has a brother with five children who live far, far away in the middle of nowhere. A few key players that will pop up from time to time are my good friend in SC, "Kimhead", and my best friend back North, "Miss." "The MIL" is my mother in law, "The Ex" is the last guy I dated before Puff, and "The Slutasian" is the slutty Asian girl Puff used to date who provides me with constant amusement via Facebook stalking. (Bikini crotch shots anyone?) All our other friends have pretty generic names (their parents were obviously not name Nazis) so Rachel, Lisa, Katie, Meghan, Sara, Laura, Andrew, Michael, etc... you're not getting cool nicknames, unless I get a written request.
This blog will be just about our lives. And while that may sound boring now, just wait until you get a few entries under your belt. We love to travel and try to never sit still, which lends to a lot of joy in our lives and yes, funny stories. I also battle self-diagnosed OCD and ADD and usually have a fairly interesting outlook on life. I hope I can suck you in!
For the next few posts, I'm going to copy & paste some of my favorites from my old blog so you can get a little bit of a feel about how this whole ship will be run. After that, I'm opening the flood gates. Life jackets not included.
Posted by Gail at 10:05 AM