Deux Ans, Mon Amour

I skipped the weekly update for last week. Forgive me, Sjaan, I was actually busy for once this summer.
Last Wednesday, Michael and I celebrated our second anniversary. I had planned on cleaning up his car and making it look nice. I got him seat covers, a CD case for his 100+ CDs, a trunk organizer, and enough cleaning supplies to make it look brand new. What I did not expect, however was a multitude of obstacles. They were varying and pain in the ass-y, so I will skip them.
5 hours after taking his car, I headed back to his house in a white and brown dress, new heels, and no make-up aside from a little play on the eyes.
Michael looked particularly handsome. He sacrificed his facial hair to please me. It was worth it.
We kept it simple as far as dinner goes, we decided to keep it simple. We went out, had a grand old time enjoying each other’s company and doing that mushy eye-contact thing.
Friday we left for vacation at the home of a relative of his with his family. In short, we went through hell and back to get there. I talking about a blown transmission, 5 hours in a foreign place, and a rental van that couldn’t gun it up the side a mountain like we wanted it to.
I don’t remember the last time I was that relaxed. We spent five or so days there. During the day we spent time with each other and talking about our lives. When it started to get dark, Michael would go into the living room and play piano while the sun was bright red in the windows, sinking into the ground. At night, we wined and dined and made the most of our time with Michael’s cousin.
One day I convinced Michael to drive us to a particular distillery 30 or so minutes away to get my mom a certain kind of bourbon that can only be bought on site. The GPS ended up taking us in circles for an hour or so. We grabbed the booze ASAP and flew back to the house. The last day we were there I convinced him to go with me to a local chocolate shop to buy Bourbon chocolates for my mom also. For some reason I thought liquor would be a good gift for someone who seldom drinks.

I am trying to describe my trip in a way that doesn’t infringe upon the privacy of Michael’s relative. I mean, if someone came to my house and had a great time, then went home and posted the good, the bad, and the ugly on the internet, I would destroy them. Anywho, here are a few photos:  

   

This was a wonderful break in our hectic lives. Now we’re back to work, and soon back to school. Life goes on, my friends. I can honestly say that I am happy.
Things are going amazingly well. 

Peace, Love, and Pudd’n Pops,
AMZ

 

Youth without Morals

Have you ever noticed that you never want to know something more when it isn’t any of your business?
This is the second week in a row that I wrote down blog topics while working, but left them there at the end of the day. Exhale. Okay.
The last couple of weeks have gone the way they usually do: Awesomely.
Morgan and I went to a supersecretharrypotter party! Sjaan and her friend threw it. I went home with my very own pigmy puff and the knowledge that you shouldn’t microwave butter too long, because every space in your microwave will be filled with it when it explodes!  The next day there was a birthday party for Michael’s mother at her own mom’s house. I like going over while his extended family is in town for a visit. Michael’s cousin Casey, whom I get to see often because he lives in town, was there. He happened to mention in conversation how often I talk about marrying Michael. He didn’t say it like it is a bad thing at all though. He happens to be one of the few people that reads this stuff haha. Anyway writing about things like marriage are great for the writer, but I suppose I come off sounding like a crazy person (Though I am a bit of a crazy person anyway). I seem to have gotten far from the original topic…Michael’s mom. “The Big 5-0.” She seemed happy to have everyone there! I love Michael’s mom. She is very beautiful in my opinion, especially when she smiles. :)
This past Friday was Morgan’s birthday party. We (the large group of college women) designed our own cupcakes, went to see Toy Story 3, and went back to her house to hang around and watch movies. While we never got around to watching movies, we were all entertained…in some way or another. After most of us went to sleep around 3am, we woke up at 8:30 for breakfast at ihop.

My favorite show about bad things happening to dumb teens who make mistakes, ‘The Secret Life of the American Teenager’, is back on tv for the summer season. This show, in addition to ‘16 and Pregnant’ and ‘Teen Mom’ pretty much make up my television schedule during the year. Maybe its because I sometimes inwardly gloat at the fact that I have never had a child or been pregnant. Maybe it is because even though choice to have to have sex, which isn’t exactly responsible, they’re adult enough to carry the baby to term and ignore the disturbingly popular choice among youth to abort. Remember kids, only abstinence is 100% effective. That .001% that you guys think will never effect you from condoms and birth control—surprise surprise—often get pregnant. What is that, odds of 1 in 1000? Those aren’t good odds, children.
 If you kids think you’re adult enough to take it all off, you’re adult enough to take care of a child. You’re adult enough to give up everything in your life that you don’t need for the sake of the life you created. God, that burns me so much, people like that. I’m sure that child is so sorry for inconveniencing your perfect life. I go to a woman’s college, and it’s a wonderful place, but sometimes maybe there aren’t enough men around to balance out the feminism. I’m talking real men here, not ‘guys.’ A real man who would take responsibility for his actions and care for the life he has created. Too many women on campus have decided that no man will have any say in a child’s life if it is illegitimate…she decides his or her fate. The best (and by best I mean most appalling) line I’ve heard is that children ruin a woman’s body, and not a man’s. A man can easily walk away from the child’s life, while a woman is ‘stuck with it.’ We’ll see how many men will be willing to be in a real relationship with someone with that attitude. Michael is the type of guy who will let no person in this world decide the fate of his child for him, nor will he let anyone prevent him from being a father to his child. I couldn’t agree more :)
Anywho, This beautiful, and ridiculously slim, woman my age at my college just gave birth to a son as beautiful as she! She waddled around campus at the end of the semester and took all of her exams. She finished her Sophomore year! I’ve been told she plans on finishing school, so I plan on holding her to it :)

I know I'd written about this before, in the post about superfeminism, but pregnancy and child-rearing deserves it's own half-post.

The Pickles Show!

Friday, after gorging ourselves on all you can eat barbequed pork and other southern classics, We arrived home to hear this sound. It was an odd sound, like a little girl saying “Ow, ow, ow.” Mom said its the kitten she tried to save the other day, but got away from her.
After meowing at it for ten minutes, and it meowing back, I discovered it was inside of my neighbor’s shed. What a good time to meet my neighbor for the first time! Michael and I managed to grab it and bring it inside.
  Her name is Pickles. Though my friend Sjaan never got to meet Pickles, she decided this awesome name.
Pickles cries like a baby, probably because she still is a baby. Apparently her voice box is messed up, because her cute kitten meow is silent, though she still tries. And her scared, abandoned meow is loud and sad. You can’t leave her alone, or she will cry. In the short 24 hours that I had Pickles in my home, she went from deathly scared of people, to loving us dearly. She went from starving and skinny to fat and happy. She went from orphan to adopted. She followed us around the house and the yard because she knew we were her family. She would climb up my shirt and nuzzle me, and I’d nuzzle back as a good mom should. It is a sign of love.
Pickles left us, the foster family, to live with Leslie and Mona. Leslie is a dear friend of the family, and Mona is her kitty. It was kitty love at first sight when Leslie came to get Pickles. I knew she was going to a good home and a good family.
 
Even now, two days after Pickles “moved,” I am sad that she is gone. I know she would have been lonely in our house during the day. I know we would have a hard time with buying food and such, but boy is she a great kitty. She learned to use a litter box in two days! I guess I feel this way because I don’t have any pets other than my Betta Fish, Sgt. Pepper. You can’t hold a fish, and they’re just using you for food. Fish are jerks.
I know I want a cat when I have my own place, I just want to make sure it’s special. Not some mean cat. That’s what I liked about Pickles. She was rescued, and she was thankful.
I am happy because Pickles is happy in her new home, and Leslie is happy to have her. My own special kitty is out there when I am ready for it.

Peace, Love, and Pudd’n Pops,
AMZ

Don’t Be Such a Beach.

This one is going to be longer than usual, so brace yourself.

A lot of fun-type things have happened over the last week. Wednesday, at least I think it was Wednesday, Michael came over and we inhaled a sickeningly large amount of Sonic food. But wait, the fun doesn’t stop there. All of my college friends, minus a few of my favorites, went to the basement and made brownies and watched Beauty and the Beast. Who doesn’t like brownies? Who doesn’t like Disney? Exactly.
That was like a visit to my childhood, except Michael was included that time. Aside from the fact that I have a personal thing about unnecessary talking/singing during movies, it was pretty awesome.
Afterwards the brownies went back upstairs with us, minus the Michael, and we gorged ourselves on brownies and milk on Jenn’s floor. That was the second time in one night that I consumed way too much for no reason. We ended up watching another movie: Fantastic Mr. Fox. The one time that I actually enjoyed a George Clooney movie. Why? Because I couldn’t see his face. It was a pretty cussin’ awesome movie. I definitely recommend it, mostly because of all the big names that are in it.
Underlying icky feeling of the night? Tension between some and awkwardness between others leaves me feeling yucky.
Thursday I went to class, packed up, and went home early so that I could get ready to go to the beach on Friday. Let me be clear with this: I had the full intention of skipping my classes (because I ooze rebellion). I told my mom that my only two Friday classes were canceled. Well, here comes Friday. I get a text saying that our English class was canceled because my professor was sick. Really? I fail at skipping classes.
For those of you who have never had anything to do with me when I am going on vacation, I just want to let you know: I have a packing problem. I have been told that I get it from my grandmother. I have to be prepared for anything and everything. Why is that? Well, I have this funny thing about being unprepared. I will kick myself for longer than necessary if I didn’t bring something so simple. I started typing a list of the random crap I packed just to give you an idea, then I realized I was about two paragraphs into this list and nowhere near done. I deleted it for the sake of your sanity.
Friday Michael and I packed up the Solara and headed to the beach with the ipod on shuffle. We had to make a quick detour at my dorm because, well, I forgot to pack shorts. Beach vacation, and a shoulder bag full of jeans. Fail Number Two! We stopped before that and grabbed some Chick fil a meals for lunch. In order to run into the dorm in time, I had to eat pretty quickly. It was gone in five minutes, and I still had plenty of Dr. Pepper to spare. Ahh, satisfying. Driving, driving, driving. Music and banter. But wait, blue lights? That’s right folks. Michael got his second speeding ticket in a year. This one is for going 80 in a 60. I don’t know how many points this one will cost him, but it is going to be $185. It’s like plucking a stone from the side of my phantom engagement ring.
When the mom car (mom, my sister, and my sister’s kids) arrived we all got settled in our respective rooms. Ocean ocean, yeah yeah. We went to a great restaurant called Sea Captain’s House. Oh yeah, fantastic.
Saturday I had a wonderful and nutritious breakfast of lucky charms, while Michael chowed down on last night’s steak. To sum up that entire day: The ocean is still cold, SPF 90 really does work, The pool is freezing, the lazy river feels like pee, and the hot tub melted my skin off. But wait, there’s more! I love Riesling, and Kahlua and cream, Putt-Putt at the beach is always fun, even if mom effortlessly kicked everyone’s ass, and there is nothing like watching tv and drinking margaritas with the family to make you feel like you’re at home.
Sunday morning Michael and I walked around the beach to find shells. We found some cute ones, some ugly ones, and some in between. I found a tide pool full of baby clams that were eating. The girls carried a fist full of those clams around in a beach bucket and mom got worried that we were killing them. We buried Michael in the sand. I made him into a beautiful mermaid! The girls made his boobs a little lopsided though…
I finally manned up and jumped into the ocean. I ended up staying there for a very long time. Michael and I vowed not to not go home tan so we rebelled against the SPF 90 and went bare. Ow.
When we left the beach, Myself, Michael, my sister, and the girls went in the same car because we wanted to get home for our lives to pick back up on Monday. Mom didn’t have to work until Tuesday, so she was staying to continue to lay on the beach, dine in fancy restaurants, and visit the bar. She cried as she saw us off, telling us she loved us. Oh mummy. I love you. Well ten minutes down the road she calls to tell us that she is coming home! Poor momma couldn’t even last an hour by herself. Eventually when we made it home and myself to my dorm, she called and told me that she doesn’t want me to leave.
You see, Michael and I had originally planned on moving to Atlanta after school so that Michael could take advantage of a business opportunity. That fell through, so we are probably going to be staying near home. My mom thought she could be independent; that she wouldn’t need any of us. We need each other, and that’s perfectly alright.

Peace, Love, and Pudd'n Pops
AMZ