Are you a cat?

So last night I unknowingly participated in the dentist-given-hallucinatory drugs. 

Let me back up...

I spent all weekend in and out of consciousness on the couch. The third time I fell asleep mid-sentence was apparently B's first clue that these weren't just naps.  I love a good nap, but rarely ever *need* a nap.  I needed 5 over Saturday and Sunday apparently.

Monday at work, I started to feel my day go straight into slow motion.  Complete with voices lowering a few octaves.  I remember working until about 7, heading home, and then? Nothing.

Tuesday I call B from work and tell him I just want to catch up because we didn't get to talk last night.  He corrects me.  Apparently we *talked* for quite a while, and I continued to *talk* all night.  According to B, I witnessed a helicopter crash, the dog needed to go to the vet, and something about the car selling cupcakes.  I must be busy in my alternate universe.  I blame it on the potentially fatal flu I am convinced I am coming down with.

Last night, still feeling flu-ish, and also having just welcomed in my monthly *original sin*, (B's term, not mine), I crawl into bed and turn on the DVRed Raising Hope.  B missed the premier last week, but finds the show hilarious, which I think causes him to forget to confiscate the remote when the show ends.  He gets up for a second to get water and I see my chance to start Glee.
I ask nicely when he returns if I can watch a few minutes until I fall asleep.  He agrees.  I think at this point he realized my psychotic dreams were sure to be entertaining enough he could suffer through a few minutes of Glee.
Here is where the hallucinating begins again:
Just after Britney finishes singing Britney and Asks Uncle Jesse "Are you a cat?" I hear a faint man giggle. 
I avoid looking at him, because I don't want to spoil the moment.  And I also realize I am probably just hearing things through my medicine induced lethargy.
Then, as I start to fade into dreamworld (sorry Glee, but the meds were STRONG), I hear Finn say to Rachel, "Are you asking me to choose between you and football?" After she responds, I distinctly hear B mumble, "Well that isn't fair.  How could she ask him that?"
Oh Em Gee my husband is involved in Glee.  How strong are these drugs?
When the show ended, I took a chance to find out whether or not this fake version of my husband was a figment of my intoxication or if he was real.

Thanks for letting me watch all of Glee.  That was very nice of you, I know it isn't your favorite show.

I don't mind.  It is actually a good show once you get past the strangeness of guys breaking into song in football pads. 

Oh, well good then.

Clearly there was a chemical spill near my office on Monday that unleashed gallons of dentist happy juice into the air. 

I sure hope it doesn't wear off soon.

Rejection

About a month ago N and I bought that awesome JetBlue All You Can Jet pass. What? You don’t know about this awesomeness? Once a year at the beginning of August JetBlue holds this 3-day sale where you can buy a pass to fly all you want during the month of September for like the price of one flight. And since N and I were planning a trip anyway, we thought why not travel to 3 places instead? Hate me.


Anyway this past weekend we kicked of our jetsetting month with a trip to NYC. Now I haven’t subjected you guys to this b/c I know I am nuts and all kinds of ridiculous, but I accidentally bought a wedding dress that I hate (it was for charity, don’t ask). Ever since then I have become determined to find something better. I decided that the only thing for me to do was go to Kleinfelds, the very same shop from my guilty pleasure show “Say Yes To The Dress.” I am completely 100% obsessed this show.

Except I called 3 weeks in advance for an appointment and they were fully booked. WTF. Being the determined obsessed person I am, I went anyway just in case they saw me and were like “OMG, we HAVE to dress you in one of our amazing dresses because you are so awesome!” (Whatev, it could have totally happened.) Needless to say, I went inside, fell in love with the place, and got immediately rejected. I didn’t even get to see my fake GBFF Randy. Worst of all, it was raining outside and for some reason N declined my offer to share an umbrella and opted to wear a bright yellow plastic poncho. He looked like Curious George. I would not lie to you, internet friends. Also? They were taping an episode of Say Yes To The Dress while we were there. Of course they didn’t want Curious George there while taping an episode of their amazing show. Therefore I fully blame my rejection on my fiancé wearing a very unfashionable poncho and not to me not having an appointment. Thanks a lot buddy.

And now I leave you with something that always makes me smile. Because when you smile, I smile. http://lesbianswholooklikejustinbieber.tumblr.com/

~Gina

I've Got the Fever

... Not of the Bieber strain. 

Worse. 
Maybe.

The baby fever.  It is awful.  I really need some prescription strength Excedrin No Babies, but the stupid HEB monopoly here doesn't seem to carry it.

I don't know where this is coming from.  Seriously.  I have a few friends with bambinos, and toddling poopypants, but it is not like I am surrounded by upchucking mini humans all day.  Husband and I decided last year that we would start trying to have a baby around June of this year, but that was before I got a new job that I actually like.  We decided when I ripped up my contract with the devil (read: quit my last job) that I did not want to have a baby during the first year I worked at the new place.  Pregnant during part of that year, sure, baby, no.  But here I am 3 months into the job and I am starting to dream babies.

Being the rational person I think I am, I have made a list of baby vs. no baby

No Baby:
Ugly babies - Don't say all babies are cute.  You know damn well there are some ugly babies out there.  I don't want anyone's pity when I birth ET's long lost cousin
Ovulation charts  - My graph drawing stage came and went with Advanced Economics in college
Weight gain - The most successful I have ever been at weight loss was 8 pounds.  Something tells me I will gain more than that with a baby
Diapers - gag me
Delivery - I've read Breaking Dawn...just because Husband isn't immortal doesn't mean I will have better luck. 
Infertility - My husband claims to have suffered from Blunt Testicular Trauma as a child.
The Obvious - Pregnancy and child raising is just plain scary

Baby -
Maternity Clothes/Eating A Lot - so excited about this
Baby - *most* are so dang cute!
Maternity leave - 3 months to hang with a kid and still have a job to go back to.

As you can see, I am really trying not to want a baby right now.  But just like dieting, my efforts amount to a massive fail. 

Advice?

Wedding 1 : Me 0

Afternoon interwebs, hope you are all feeling better than I am right now.  I am curled up on the couch watching DVR-ed tv from last week trying desperately to type this post without having to sit up. 
Last night I was a bridesmaid in one of my oldest friend's wedding *event*, and it was a night I wish I remembered.  Well, actually, I do remember most of the night, what I don't remember is the moment the ghost of my drinking past showed up and inhabited my body for the remainder of the night.  Last night I thought I was 22 again, and drank like I had never even heard of such a thing as a hangover.  I tried, I really did, but I think it is time I officially bury 22 year old me, and fully embrace mostly boring and sober 29 year old me. Thoughts?
I showed up at the reception site yesterday, spray tanned to perfection and makeup-less in preparation for an entire afternoon of hair coiffing and eyeshadow applying entertainment.  I wish I could say the metallic taste of the 12 cans of hairspray I inhaled yesterday was no longer affecting my food choices 24 hours later, but it is. Also, I really wish I had asked what mascara they used, I cannot get this stuff off my eyes! After being fully transformed into one of 8 Stepford Bridesmaids, we headed to the church and performed our maidly duties of smiling with the occassional oohing and ahhing thrown in for good measure. 
Cocktail hour begins and this is the time I hear the 4 words that sealed my drinking destiny: Seated Dinner Drinking Game.  Never heard of it?  Neither had I.
Seated Dinner Drinking Game is all kinds of awesome.  The table number determines the drinking schedule.  Table 6 drinks at 8:06, 8:16, 8:26, etc.  Higher numbered tables are modified to use only the ones digit, so table 24 drinks at 8:04, 8:14, etc.  The slap in the face part of the game is when the clock strikes the actual table number, say 8:24 for table 24, you have to finish your drink.  Last night, it was virtually impossible to keep a half empty glass on the table.  I think the waiters were on to our game, or maybe just super awesome, and continually refilled my wine and my husband's drink.  So once an hour we were slamming a full drink and then every ten minutes after we were socially drinking.  About 2 hours into the dinner, I was cross-eyed.  About this time, I heard the band playing Don't Stop Believing, which I am pretty sure began the next 3 hours of socially unacceptable gyrating and persitent storming of the stage to display our (the entire wedding party's) singing abilities.  I am pretty sure there are about 200 black-tie clad socialites who may or may not have gone to church early this morning to pray for the sins of today's youth.  For that I am thankful.  Clearly, God intended for me to spend the morning in bed followed by a hangover induced food orgy of queso and Huevos Rancheros, conlcuding with another 2 hour nap.  I will take all the prayers I can get. And more sleep.
Hope the weekend was good to you all!
C

How My Mom Ruined My Engagement Story

Well not so much ruined, more like spoiled.

A little background: My now husband, then b/f, likes to be the grand master gift-giver and HATES to not know exactly what you want before he buys. I know, he is awesome. This carried over into the engagement arena as clearly he wasn't picking out a ring without my prior approval. Fine by me, surprises be damned.
Also, he has enough respect for my parents to know that although they didn't need to give their permission, they would think all the more highly of him if he asked. So he made the call to my Dad.
My Dad, in turn, calls me and says. "That b/f of yours just called and said he wants to go to dinner. Does he want to marry you?" Cat, meet outside of bag.

So anywho, the story goes as follows:
My b/f sets a date for a random Tuesday night with my parents. As usual, b/f is on time when my Dad answers the door and leads him into the living room. I don't really know the details of what happened next, only that Dad says yes, and they are 5 minutes into the evening. next order of business, he asks Mom for the name of a diamond guy (who I would meet weeks later when b/f sent me to approve of the diamond before the purchase). Now b/f is completely out of conversation topics, so Dad says, lets call C and have her meet us for dinner. So I meet them for dinner, its awkward because I am fully aware that my Mom is planning our wedding in her mind and my Dad is having visions of me wearing ponytails and playing basketball in the driveway, even though we didnt have a basketball hoop set up at our house and I prefered a ponytail over pigtails. Grand.
The next morning, I am sitting at my desk at work at 9 am when my office phone rings and its my Mom. Mom says, "Honey, I took your Dad to the hospital this morning. He is having heart problems. It may be another heart attack. Please don't worry, but try and get here as soon as you can." My. Heart. Sinks. I grab my purse, head out of work and call b/f who doesn't answer, what a surprise, so I call his secretary and tell her to please find him and tell him it is a semi-emergency.
Phone rings 5 seconds later (his secretary LOVES me). I tell him what is happening and he replies "He could have said no," as though his giving the approval to marry me caused the heart attack.
Later that day, at the hospital, my Mom gets good news from the doctor and replies, "oh thank God, now you can tell b/f that it wasn't his fault". Doctor gives Mom a strange sideways glance, and she proceeds to tell him how b/f asked to marry me yesterday and then thought that was what brought on the drama. Doctor laughs and my Mom decides this is the best story ever. And goes on to tell at least 15 people that day how b/f asked to marry me and isn't that great, but then Dad got sick and b/f thought it was his fault, yada yada.
Until I cry.
Mom gives me the sideways glance, and I have to explain to her how b/f proposed to them, but hasn't yet proposed to me. See, I hold up my left hand, no ring! Mom then continues retelling the story but in a hushed whisper on the phone, which I guess she thinks makes it better.
My Mom is amazing, but her engagement story with my b/f is better than mine. Mine involved a parking lot. No, not like that.
I bet she could really block-out other bridesmaids in pursuit of the bouquet back in the day.