Dear Husband

I told myself I'm not allowed to post on here unless I get all my chores done. You know, I'm kind of grounding myself. I have to be super organized and use my time wisely to get everything done.

Who said I have to follow my own rules though, right?

Lately I've been crazy in love with my husband. I mean, I'm always IN LOVE with him, but lately it's been like CRAZY IN LOVE with him. I just want to eat him up, hold onto him forever, kiss every inch of his face on my free time. I'm totally obsessed with him. I love it.

Dear Husband:

You've heard it before, I love your freakin' guts. Every little drop off gooey guts. I love them. And your skin and eyes and bones and bone marrow and hair and nails. I love your bone structure AND your guts!

But I really love your personality, your laugh, the look on your face when Sawyer does something weird.

I really, really love how much you care for people. How much you care for me, how much you care for your friends. How the small things people do really touch you, like yesterday, you looked through this book our friends made for us with water in your eyes, just so touched. I love how much you love the people in your life.

I'm crazy about your interests. You are always interested in how to make the world a better place. How to keep people safe. How to make everyone feel loved and happy and cared for. See, back to the caring thing! You just care so much that you can get hurt in the process. That doesn't stop you, you just keep on caring.

You challenge me in ways I need to be challenged. It's really annoying when you do that. I know you are doing it to push me in a positive direction, so I still love you for it, even when I'm annoyed.

Your really funny. Sometimes your jokes make no sense to me. That is probably because you are a lot smarter than I am. You are super intelligent. I love that. I love that you are smart and funny, even when your funny goes right over my head.

YOU GIVE THE BEST HUGS!

YOU LOVE TO CUDDLE. The other day I thought, what if he was just pretending to like cuddling but one day you couldn't handle it anymore and decided you weren't going to be a cuddler. Yeah, I didn't like that thought. So, don't even try it. I'm in love with your cuddling and if you stop... well, lets not go there.

You can cook portobello mushrooms like no other. Mmmmm.

You will do anything to make sure I'm having fun. It doesn't matter what, or if you are in the mood to go do something, if I think it will be fun, or you think I might have fun, you are game. You will do anything to make me smile. That doesn't go unnoticed, and baby, you make me smile even when you aren't doing anything at all!

You just looked at me and laughed. I'm watching you laugh right now at some podcast thing. Did I already tell you how much I love your laugh? I love it, right now, right this second. Keep laughing lover!

I always write to Sawyer. I think it's well past your turn.

I love you baby. Thanks for letting me trick you into liking me. You sure fell into that one didn't you?! Sucker!


Your wifey

Textation Nation

Last night I couldn't fall asleep. I was thinking about the evolution of language for some odd reason and the presence and absence of boundaries within our language. I don't know why I can't think of other things, like why the crew of Whale Wars act like they have no common sense, or if we will even live in a haunted house, or what age Sawyer will get a job and buy us lots of presents.

No, I was thinking about language. So, in honor of my sleepless state last night, thought I would re-post an oldie and get some more opinions.


The Text:

There is something that annoys me to no end and I have no grounds to be annoyed by what I feel is incorrect English. It is the past tense form of the word text: texted. Texted. TEXTED?! Really now? Yes. Really. It drives me crazy but from what I have read out there, the word 'texted' is not wrong, well, nor is it right, which leaves me, kerbobled (Urbandictionary.com meaning to be upset at something or someone, yo. I added the yo myself.). So, what is a girl to do?

My take on the whole thing...

Text: Thanks for the kind text message. Thanks for texting me that message. Will you text me your address? Will you send me your address in a text? I text you my phone number yesterday. I just sent you my phone number in a text.

Hmmm...

Let's look at the word 'beat'. I am going to beat you at Monopoly. You have me beat. I beat her at Boggle yesterday. Would you EVER say, I BEATED her at Boggle yesterday?! (AND, don't say no because you would never play Boggle, Boggle rocks and EVERYONE should play Boggle.)

What am I realizing? When people say 'text' they actually mean 'text message'. So, you aren't really texting anyone, you are messaging them. Is text a noun or a verb, or is it a noun that became a verb? Is it both? Adjective: text messaging. OR is text a verb in the legit urban dictionary I cited above? It's somewhat similar to the word 'test'.

Test: I am going to take a test tomorrow. I will be testing on that tomorrow. I am taking a test right now. I am testing right now. I took a test yesterday. I was tested on that yesterday. Tested. Tested, it works.

Test, both a noun and a verb and works with the 'ed.

I think the most correct way to verbalize the action of sending a text message is to use the word 'send' in it's present, past, and future forms as the verb. I will send you a text message. I am sending you a text message now. I sent you a text message yesterday. Ahhh, it's good music to my ears!

BUT, English is fluid, dynamic, ever-changing, always evolving and what once was against the rules of proper English can and will become correct if enough people use that exact phrase or word of incorrectness. Yes people, you have say in what Webster publishes!

If history repeats itself, people are not too prone to change and slang and laziness begin to take over. I know the word text will not stay a noun and never a verb, again. So, if we were to use the past form of text AS A VERB without us using 'text' or 'texted' or using 'send' as the verb, how do these options sound and look to you...


texed
tex'd
texd

Because I just can't bring myself to texted anyone.

Random Crap

Sometimes I like these random posts because the tidbits are short and to the point. This is what's goin' on.

I have 'Git it gurllll, git it, git it gurlllll' in my head. I'm not sure what song that is from but I wanted to put that as my comment of almost every post I have read in the last few days. Unfortunately, I think I'm the only one who would understand my comment. If I haven't commented on your post recently, it's because I calmy refrained from typing hip hop lyrics into your blog. It's a good thing, trust me!

I need to go though with things. Do you guys have this problem? I get all excited and plan grand goals then get all distracted.

That might be because I sing, 'git it gurllll, git it, git it gurrllllll...' all day! Damn.

I'm officially personal training at the gym I teach aerobics at. I'm super excited. I L-O-V-E this gym. If you live in Denver, you NEED to check out this gym. I think the big difference with this gym and others is the people that work there. They just treat everyone like a best friend, instructors, trainers, members, janitors. It makes everyone happy. I'm always happy at this gym.

I'm really into St. Germain right now. MUST try it. Even all my Mormon peeps can try it I believe. I think it's no or lowwww alcohol, and YUM to the YUMMY! MUST TRY St. Germain! But for everyone who shares a past time as awesome as mine...aka-drinkin', you must add the goods, if you know what I mean. Git it gurlll, git it git it gurrrrllll!

My husband might has a job prospect somewhere outside of Colorado. This makes me happy and sad. Happy because we can't barter with the credit companies. 'I'll give you a six pack and skinny white baby if you just take away our debt...' Sooooo, one of us needs a job that pays the bills. Again, BORING. But, a prospect is nice. I just don't want to move away from here. I don't. It's in the early stages, but if this does happen, I'll be really sad. When I first moved to Denver, I hated it. I didn't have any close friends, hobbies, anything. I love my life now, I love where I'm at, I love everything going on around our family. Sooo, yeah.

Everyday I feel incredibly lucky that I have a healthy, happy baby and if you do, you should too. Do you know how many people lose their babies everyday? Stop complaining about the small things and feel blessed. I wish I had a magic wand and could grant people the wish of happy families. If I could do anything in the world, it would be granting couples that wish.

I've gained ten pounds since our vacation. How much Rum does that equate to???


I love you all!

Peace, love and spinach salad,

Me.

Like Seriously?!

The Diamond Pacifier:



If your children did NOT have this pacifier, you pretty much suck balls as a parent.

Can be purchased here for just a small, oh so petty-change price of $17,000.00.


Because, like, seriously?!?!

Wearing Cardboard

All I did was say 'no' and she looked at me in disgust. Seriously. I'm thinking, you work at a bra shop lady, what's so bad about a girls boobs sans wire?!?!

I wasn't wearing a bra and honestly I don't wear one very often.

They are annoying, they aren't that comfy and when your boobs go from a pretty sweet accessory to only noticing them through a microscope, you would go braless too.

I wouldn't of even been in there if my husband didn't give me slight push. "Babe," he says looking down at my chest, "you don't have to stuff, you know I love you just as you are."

You are my husband, you should, but did you just say "stuff"?

"I don't STUFF! I never have! I've always been comfortable in my own skin, YOU KNOW THAT!"

Fine, so I did wear a bra, sometimes. AND, when I did wear one it was only because I had to. He had a right to mention the 'stuffing' thing. I mean, when I wore a bra, I wore my old ones and they were so big it was like waring two cardboard boxes on my chest tied around my back and neck with some rope. Did I mention bra's suck?

So, he said I should go get some new ones, and I did. Well I was trying to until Miss Bra Snood of the world looked at me like it was a travesty that I wasn't wearing one.

I mean, really? Get over it. I thought all the cool people were doing it.

Jennifer Aniston



Cameron Diaz




So why can't I?

Me-"I need to be measured, I have no idea what size I am."

Bra Snood- "Well, what size is your last bra"

Me- "Size big. It's too big, hence me not wearing one." DUH

Bra Snood- "BUT WHAT SIZE?"

I'm really not her biggest fan.

She measured me and I was on my way to the fitting room with a box of bras. A box. Do you know how many bra's come in a BOX?!?! Neither do I! After tying on about 50 and seeing the same thing over and over again, boobies in a lace prison, I was over it.

I just grabbed one.

Me with bra-ish thing in hand- "This one. "

Her: " Ahhh, is that the one, like THE one."

She was way too excited. Is this like a wedding dress or something, it's a damn bra and if you keep it up, I'll continue to go braless, run in your store and do jumping jacks, just hand me the bra and let me be on my way. I don't even LIKE bras!

I think she got my drift by the look on my face, but she held my hand and rushed me over to the bra 'section' to pick colors. Like, isn't this whole damn store a BRA SECTION?!?! I guess not, because EACH bra has it's own 'section' with sizes, and strap colors and material selection. I don't even have this big of a closet and all this space is dedicated to ONE BRA?!?!

After the whole thing, they didn't even have that bra in my size, in the whole freakin' SECTION, AND no, they don't sell the ones in the box, those are just for trying on. Those are are so everyone can squeeze their knockers into the same bra before purchasing a BRAND NEW SHINY, HAPPY BRA.

Awesome, all this for nothing.


So, I'm back to the cardboard boxes.

On Not Taking Tylenol

Well, it's Saturday morning and I'm not hungover. You can thank our (air quote with fingers) FRIENDS who decided they wanted to work on their house instead of boozing it up with us like we do every weekend. I'm thinking that when they invite us to dinner, we shouldn't always show up with our suitcase? Do you think that scares them off? Do you think they are REALLY working on their house? Now I'm all self conscience. I think I'm going to call them over and over again until they pick up.

Anyway, in my non-hungover state, I decided to search out some new blogs and I totally fell in love with Tracey.

I even told her I love her. Maybe I shouldn't of. I always jump into things too soon. I mean, I just met her, sort of.

Oh well, got to go, I'm leaving my 8th message now...

Like, seriously?!?!

I think I'm starting a new series of posts. The title is pretty self explanatory.




Feast your eyes on the Peter Potty Toddler Urinal. Can be purchased here.

I mean, Like, SERIOUSLY?!?!

Do Hard Things

I finished teaching a cycle class, I was sweaty, still hyper, retrieving my music from the stereo when he approached me. I was eyeing him a bit from the front of the room. Younger guy about my age, super cute, in great shape, and he was now about to talk to me. My nerves kicked in a bit and my stomach did a flip. I hope he had something good to say.

"Great class, I really enjoyed it."

Okay, not so bad, pretty basic, a compliment, I can handle this. "Thanks," I say, "spinning is one of my favorite classes to teach."

He introduced himself, asked about me and eventually got my phone number.

Nice, cute and interested in me? No way.

Later that night he calls, not even the three day rule. For some reason I was fascinated in him. I didn't meet many guys in L.A. that weren't complete jerks, I was 21 years old and never had a boyfriend and this cute guy just called me.

He says hello, I say hi back and somehow throughout the course of our conversation we touch, no we dive into the topic of embarrassing stories.

He says I could never top his.

I say he could never top mine.

We exchange stories.

Mine: 17 years old, jumping a fence in a bathing suit waiting for all the cute boys to meet us at the pool, I hang myself by my bathing suit bottoms on the fence as everyone shows up.

His: Elementary school, white jeans were IN, first day of school. He stands up to ask the teacher something, and his newly sharpened pencil rolls off the desk into the chair. He sits again, stabbing his butt with this newly sharped pencil, screams as blood is running down his newly white jeaned butt. No one was nice to him all year, kids can be so cruel.

For the fist time someone beat me.

Throughout the conversation I packed my clothes telling him of my future plans.

After informing him of my soon to be whereabouts, there was not much said. No 'when can I see you?'. No 'lets meet for lunch'. Just kind of awkward silence tinged with a little sadness on both ends. For the first time I was a little saddened by the plans I had for my future, the plans to go have fun. Yes I just met him, and him me but there was something there, there could have been something there.

We hung up and I stared at his phone number written on a scrap of paper. I wondered what to do. Would he remember me when I got back? We speak once and I'm gone for a year.

I threw away his phone number and the next morning boarded a flight to Turks and Caicos. I never saw or spoke to him again.

Moving away. Missed opportunities. Things that don't really go your way. Not getting closer. Not figuring things out. Not letting a situation run its grimy little course. All things people mull over, again and again and again.

Moving was the best thing I have ever done. My life would not be what it is now if I didn't get the courage to move away from everything I've known to a place I've never been.

I moved away to some far away land. I met all new people, met many new friends, and my life changed course. I became enamored with traveling. Everything I worked so hard for back at home became meaningless, a life I thought I wanted was beginning to fade as I looked ahead and pursued new passions. I met more people. I tried to speak french. I got a suntan. I wondered why people don't leave the world they knew to try new things.

I moved back home and away again, got into a career that paid so little but promised so much life experience. I relished in it. I took up new opportunities and moved away again and again. I made new friends and moved away from them.

I met my husband and moved away one last time. This is the last time, I thought.

Moving away has always been the best thing I have done. Moving caused me to lose friends. If proximity tears a friendship, they weren't good enough friends in the first place. Moving cause me to gain friends. Moving may have ruined a relationship I could have had with the guy I met in a spinning class but in no way would this guy even come close to the awesomeness of my husband, who I would not have met if I had not moved, countless times.

I recently read a blog about a 17 year old sailing the wold BY HIMSELF, the top of his blog in bold letters read, 'DO HARD THINGS'. It's so simple yet so complex. Doing hard things. What is more difficult, the actual hard thing itself or the pursuit of said thing, the letting go of your comfort zone and going after your goal?

I hear so many people list the things they regret, opportunities they gave up for something so miniscule. I'm a firm believer of things happening or not happening for a reason. I moved away, started life over and over again in new places, met my husband, had a baby and am living happily ever after. It doesn't mean that things won't change again, that we won't be moving, meeting new friends, pursing new careers. We are CURRENTLY figuring out what we want to do, do we make that move to his possible new job location, Will we like this new place, do we give it up to stay here, with our friends, our home, our restaurants? It reminds me of the times I moved to places I thought I would hate but quickly fell in love with so why do I still have these reservations?

My challenge to all of us however, is to do hard things. Don't let something so small hold you back, don't have regrets, get out of your comfort zone, MOVE, challenge yourself because you might find that one thing you think you are giving up is really the best thing to get rid of and THEN you are rewarded with so much more.

Do hard things, give up and gain more.

So there is this Boy I'm in Love with...

Rum is the Answer! What was the Question? Sailing Trip Part 3

I think sailing has changed our life.

I don't know how many mass emails has been sent from my husband to the family we sailed with regarding SAILING. Every free minute is spent on researching boats, hull length, cruising speed, average weight, numbers of heads versus cabin, and other details I can't remember.

Do you know my husband?

If you know him, I mean, actually KNOW him, what I mean is have you SEEN his eyes well up when he talks about fresh snow fall, the feeling of his skis on the powder, the first day of ski season, if you KNOW my husband, you would know that this is different. It might not be strange, or even weird but sure as Hell, different.



But that was our life B.S. (Before sailing.)

Life A.S. (after sailing) is full of daydreams. What is wrong with dreams? Our life is filled with dream boats, dream life, dream job, many dreams, our life is filled with dreams right now.

The cool thing is, there is a possibility some of those 'dreams' could come true.

Part three of the vacation that may have changed our life:

One of the first conversations I have ever had with Geoff was regarding diving. I love scuba diving. I still would love to be an instructor. Love it. I was working on my dive master last I left Turks and knowing that this really hot guy I met who is really outgoing, super sweet ALSO loves to dive is NOW my husband is pretty sweet. Pretty sweet indeed and we love to dive together. We do.



Day four, we got to dive together.

Can you believe I'm only on day four??? As my friends in the Turk's would say, "To make a long story short, or in Holly's case, to make a short story long." I continue in my Sail trip 2009 series...

The dive: We parked on a buoy not as close as we would have liked. Our equipment rented from a dive shop near where we picked up our boat, and I was exhausted from being up all night with Sawyer from what seemed like a swollen penis turned out to be a bad case of diaper rash. Yes, this was an interesting day already and it was only about 7am. Yeah, 7 AM! After toying around with a bad O-ring, snorkeling to the site battling a strong current, we descended to the wreck.

The history via Wikapedia (long but interesting):

The RMS Rhone was a royal mail steam packet ship that transported cargo between England, Central and South America, and the Caribbean. She was one of the first iron hulled ships, powered by both sail and steam. Built in 1865 at the Millwall Iron Works in Southampton, England, she measured in at 310 feet (94 m) long and had two masts with a 40-foot (12 m) beam. Her propeller was the second bronze propeller ever built, and she was one of two ships deemed unsinkable by the British Royal Navy[citation needed]. Her first voyage was in August 1865 to Brazil, which were the destination of her next five voyages. There, she proved her worth by weathering several severe storms. She was then moved to the west India route. The Rhone was a favorite among passengers due to her then lightning speed of fourteen knots and lavish cabins. She sported 253 first class, 30 second class, and 30 third class cabins. On October 19, 1867, the Rhone pulled up alongside the RMS Conway in Great Harbor, Peter Island to refuel. The original coaling station they needed had been moved from the then Danish island of St. Thomas due to an outbreak of yellow fever.

On the fateful day, the captain of the Rhone, then Robert F. Wooley, was slightly worried by the dropping barometer and darkening clouds, but because it was October and hurricane season was thought to be over, he and the Conway stayed put in Great Harbor. The first half of the storm passed without much event or damage, but the ferocity of the storm worried the captains of the Conway and the Rhone, as their anchors had dragged and they worried that when the storm came back from the other side after the eye of the storm had passed over, they would be driven up on the shore of Peter Island.
They decided to transfer the passengers from the Conway to the "unsinkable" Rhone, and the Conway was then to head for Road Harbour, and the Rhone would make for open sea. As was normal practice at the time, the passengers in the Rhone were tied into their beds to prevent them being injured in the stormy seas.

The Conway got away before the Rhone but was caught by the back end of the storm, and foundered off the south side of Tortola with the loss of all hands. But the Rhone struggled to get free, as its anchor was caught fast. It was ordered to be cut loose, and lies in Great Harbor to this day, with its chain wrapped around the same coral head that trapped it a century and a half ago. By this stage time was critical, and captain Robert F. Wooley decided that it would be best to try to escape to the shelter of open sea by the easiest route, between Black Rock Point of Salt Island and Dead Chest Island. Between those two island lay Blonde Rock, an underwater reef which was normally a safe depth of 25 feet (7.6 m), but during hurricane swells, there was a risk that the Rhone might founder on that. The Captain took a conservative course, giving Blonde Rock (which cannot be seen from the surface) a wide berth.

However, just as the Rhone was passing Black Rock Point, less than 250 yards (230 m) from safety, the second half of the hurricane came around from the south. The winds shifted to the opposite direction and the Rhone was thrown directly into Black Rock Point. It is said that the initial lurch of the crash sent Captain Wooley overboard, never to be seen again. Local legend says that his teaspoon can still be seen lodged into the wreck itself - whether or not is it his, a teaspoon is clearly visible entrenched in the wreck's coral. The ship split in two, cold sea water made contact with the red hot boilers which had been running at full steam, causing them to explode.

The ship sank swiftly, the bow section in eighty feet of water, the stern in thirty. Of the original 146 aboard, plus an unknown number of passengers transferred from the Conway, only 23 people on board (all crew) survived the wreck. The bodies of many of the sailors were buried in a nearby cemetery on Salt Island. Due to her mast sticking out of the water, and her shallow depth, she was deemed a hazard by the Royal Navy in the 1950s and her stern section blown apart. Now, the Rhone is a popular dive site, and the area around her was turned into a national park in 1967.

I've dove over a hundred times which is most likely an understatement and I still kick myself in the butt for not keeping a log book. We were exhausted and this was my first dive back since November. I felt rusty, but man, was this dive tops on my all time list. The boat was huge, and coral grew freely. Since this was not a wall dive, there was no real vertical, but slanted, diagonals, spheres, it was easy to feel off, dizzy, odd. I was checking my depth ever few seconds and STILL this dive rocked. There is no other way to describe it.

We saw the tiles from the old dance floor.

We saw the propeller.

We rubbed the 'luck porthole' three times in a clockwise direction.

This dive was amazing.


After the dive, we freshened up and headed out to Latitude 18. Barefoot Davis, a shaggy white haired white boy was singing, like he always had, every Monday at Latitude 18.

Barefoot Davis married the couple we were with, Dave and Becky and when he fist met them, he mooned them from his boat.

Did I mention he LIVES on his boat?! Sweet!

He noticed Dave and Beck right away, we were serenaded and Becky and I were called onstage to 'help' aka- Dance and pull the winning raffle tickets during his breaks.



Barefoot Davis reminds me of Sunsets, 5pm cocktails, watching the water turn colors, sitting on the dock, listening to live music, enjoying great company and relaxing after a relaxing day of work. Hey, it was the islands, even work was pretty relaxing.

This is why I'm happy we took a sailing trip. THIS is why I'm happy Geoff is looking at life a through different lenses. I'm an island girl who married a mountain man. What to do with life???



Day five: Willie T's.

Willie T's, the floating pirate ship bar.

I heard some crazy things about Willie T's.

I've been quoting Willie T's Ship Articles on my blogs because I think we should all live by them.

One last rule, " The Willie-T shall be respected as a community service, allowing those in need to shed inhibitions. Anyone betraying the confidences of this vessel shall be flogged."

We heard some crazy things about this place and after meeting the bartender who in no doubt is a 'lifer', I see why. Our favorite drink 'Dark and Stormy's' became 'Dark and Hony's' and the blonde blow up doll behind the bar is your first clue, you might not want to bring the grandparents. Little hotties in bikinis, free of boyfriends, dressed in bathing suites I drooled over roamed the boat. We were told if you jump off the boat topless you get a free drink. We jumped off but NOT topless. I can pay for my own drinks.



I was in a drinking mood.

My husband pulled a Geoff.

This was a sailers paradise, the boats were a plenty.

We met the filthy (and proud of it) old man in his thong, perhaps hoping to get some sort of excitement from us, sprucing up his average, money can buy him anything, seriously ANYTHING life.

Must be nice.

Must not be so nice.

I don't want to be so rich, I turn into a sucky person.

Maybe I just want to be a little bit rich.

Anyone want to donate to my cause?



Willie T's was awesome, we headed back to the boat and passed out. We all pulled a Geoff and then woke up with some Rum.

Because, as Barefoot Davis would say, RUM is the answer, what was the question?

Calling all Haters

Lately everyone's blog is complaining about the people that leave hurtful comments, are just plain mean, and more than anything, leave those comments anonymous hiding their identity.

Wussies.

Truth is, I'm a little jealous.

I still let people know I love them by making fun of them.

I throw things at people I like.

I get a little bit mean when I feel intimidated.

Why are you guys all so nice to me?

WHERE ARE MY HATERS???

I feel like my haters are really my TRUE LOVERS!


Some reasons you should hate me:

I was wasted the day before I took my first positive pregnancy test and don't regret it. I almost wonder why I didn't throw in one last shot for good measure, and I have friends being yelled at by the anonymous commenters, 'HOW DARE THEY DRINK WHEN THEY WERE EVEN TRYING TO GET PREGNANT!" Hell, I say, bottoms up, until you know for sure you can't anymore.

Speaking of drinking, just two days ago, I wasn't doing too well with balancing a beer and pushing my son in a stroller. Beer spilled on top of his head about THREE times and I thought it was HILARIOUS!

I don't floss.

I'm not into animals. Not an animal lover, so shoot me. Don't want one, ever. I feel animals should roam free, and not be caged in our house.

The other day I fed my son a Reece's Peanut Butter pancake for breakfast because I thought it would be funny to watch him bounce off the walls but didn't think about how he would feel passing that crap through his system.

I peed in the ocean during our vacation.

I caused my husband to not be friends with some of the relationships he had before we met and am a little proud of it.

I haven't spoke to my mom since I was in high school though she tries to reach out to me.

I don't listen to you, I try to fix you, that's my style.


Sometimes I suck.


Don't you think????

Caught Cheating!

I'm really excited today to have my very first guest blog post over at Mile High Mama's. It's regarding my experience being caught cheating. Check it here, or here, or HERE. I would also, love to hear your view on the subject there as well!!!

Pulling a Geoff: Sailing Trip Part Deux

Before I go on, I must inform you of a term.

PULLING A GEOFF (verb)- when out, having fun, and most likely drinking, you disappear without saying goodnight, goodbye or anything at all and fall asleep in your bed.

(Used in a sentence) When Susie left the living room and was gone for over ten minutes, most of the family understood she was simply pulling a Geoff.

History: My husband falls asleep without a warning, he simply leaves the area without saying a word and can be found later sleeping peacefully in the bed hugging my pillow. The act is now known as 'pulling a Geoff'



Day three I anticipated being pretty hungover, having a raging headache and drinking over a three cups of coffee. To my surprise, I was up early, cooking breakfast for the rest of the hungover crew and enjoying my son's smiles and ocean curiosity. Yes, life was good. I decided to venture out of my comfort zone and use a percolator, really it was our only way to brew coffee and I was going to figure it out, couldn't be that hard could it? Of course the day I venture out in the coffee world is the day it breaks, and no, I didn't break it, I know that is what all of you were thinking! Veggie eggs, and turkey bacon on the stove, Dave and Becky wake to a non-percolating coffee percolator. They check my work and realize, that no, it wasn't my fault, and it was going to be a cowboy coffee kind of a day. Point is, I was up early and not hung over from Foxy's, oh, and that life is STILL really good, even with a broken percolator.

Full of caffein, we sailed to St. John and booyed at Honeymoon Beach. We slathered on sunscreen, blew up the baby floaties, got ready to board the dingy when someone pulled a Geoff. Can you guess who? I don't need to write a thing more about honeymoon beach. Sometimes pictures do a better job.










From Honeymoon Beach, we went into St. John and walked around Cruz bay. St. John is my favorite of the Virgin Islands so far. The small shops, dive bars, outdoor restaurants seem like home. I'm pretty sure I could be happy living here for a long time. Iguanas passed in front of our feet as we browsed the local jewelry, dress and food tents. Geoff got suckered into trying some intense looking hot sauce, and by the size of the sweat drops running down his forehead, I was jumping at the bait to try it as well. In fact, we all tried it. This stuff was so hot, you could lick your finger hours later and still feel the heat on your tongue. We went in half and half for a small bottle being very sure that it would last years and let me just fast forward you a few days... the bottle was 1/4 gone. Yum!

Cruz bay is a magnet. I think this is the one place we went back to several times. We went back and bought bracelets, we went back and drank drinks, bought groceries, had dinner, drank more drinks. I love St. John. The heat however began to take it's toll on us. We could not be out very long before we needed to get in the water. Our boat, though lovely in all it's glory, is not equipped with air conditioning, a decision some of us would regret, and easily forget when back home. The locals said the weather was some of the hottest they have ever felt. This heat was not foreign to me, I have lived this before, but not without air. I always had a cool sanctuary to retreat to. On the boat there was no such thing. The coolest we were going to get was in the water, though cooler than the air, it was not by much and in the night there was nothing you could do. Sleep outside and risk being mosquito meals or inside and sleep in your own sweat. Day however, we were in the water, and it didn't take much walking around for us to get back to the boat and into the water despite all the great things Cruz Bay had to offer.

Later that night we actually attempted to dress up and even do our hair (failure on my part). We had dinner plans (Zozo's), and prom photos on the agenda. The next set of pictures are titled Prom2009...














The view from our table!!!


I know, we make out a lot, get over it! Dinner at Zozo's: the food was amazing, the view to die for and my prom date handsome!!!


Sunday:

Fathers day. I always feel odd on holidays, never know what to do, what present to buy, how to distribute the goods, how EXACTLY to say 'Happy Father's Day' so he knows I'm excited but in a casual sort of way. Yes, I suck at all holidays. I bought a card for Geoff before we left and found a few minutes to write a little love note for him. I also bought one for Dave from all of us so he didn't feel left out . Just like I always do, I did the wrong thing. I gave him DAVE'S card first to sign. He thought it was his, wondered why it wasn't lovey, kissy and asked him to sign it. He looked sad and lost.

"Oh, uhh, crap, and here is YOUR card lover! Happy Father's Day!!"

Did I redeem myself? Suck, totally suck at any and all holidays.




Father's Day was one of my favorite days. We chilled. We hang out in Linster Bay, St. John, snokeled and hiked the ruins.

Just when we were about to hike the ruins, can you guess who pulled a Geoff? The ruins was the home of the owner of the sugar mill on the island. He had an incredible view!!!











From here on out, if you see pictures with everyone in them but Geoff, I don't think I need to inform you where he was at. Yes, sailing is relaxing, almost too sedative, and addictive as my husband, right this very minute is looking online for catamarans for sale and if we get lucky, maybe these posts will come to you from the high seas.

Next Post: Wreck diving, bat spotting, and more rum drinking, mmmm!

Happy 4th!

I wanted to wish you all a happy 4th of July while I could. We are headed to the mountains to camp. Forecast calls for rain and severe thunder storms and my husband wonders why I was asking where our long underwear is. Wish us luck, have a good one and drink lots of beer!!!

P.S. - I started on our vacation post part 2 but my computer battery is no longer doing it's job, my laptop needs to be plugged in at all times and if I move in a way that unplugs the cord from my computer, the computer shuts down and I get all annoyed and do something else, so thanks for your patience.

P.S. 2 - I'm finally getting caught up with your blogs and trying to comment when I can, but then said computer shuts down and I don't go back to it, but it's good to get caught up with you all again!

P.S. 3 - The tan is wearing off. Boo.

P.S. 4 - I almost wrote a really angry post about that stupid weight gain curve for babies. Sawyer had his doctors appointment yesterday and had to have a catheter inserted to get a urine sample, blood taken, and his shots all in one day. He gained two pounds in one month but THEY still want to do tests to see why he isn't keeping up with obese americans. I stopped myself when curse words were actually running though my head. I don't curse, so this was bad and I stopped myself from polluting the internets with negativity. Sawyer cried harder than I have ever heard him in his life and tears were running down my eyes the entire appointment. The nurses had to keep saying, "You're doing great MOM". How embarrassing.

P.S. 5- Oh, I forgot, ANOTHER reason I haven't been good with posting is...I'm really excited about this, I am now officially president of my moms club and have had a bunch to do. Meeting with the last prez, learning the ropes, going through paperwork (and there is A LOT of paperwork), finding new board members, emailing new members, putting together a newsletter, figuring out monthy meetings, speakers, themes, and so forth. Who knew this could be so much work? I think once I get into the swing of things, it's going to be a blast! Actually, it's already fun.

Okay, I'm done with all the P.S. stuff. Love you all and I'll be back Monday!!!