Light At the End of the Tunnel

So. Tomorrow is my last day at my current job. I wrote Charkins the following in a recent email: I do know this - AS GOD IS MY WITNESS I WILL NEVER BE ANOTHER GODDAMN RECEPTIONIST AGAIN (with shaking fist, raise stapler defiantly at the sunset sky).

People, I cannot get away from this job fast enough. It actually wasn’t that bad at first (i.e. when I first started working here a mere two months ago). But as usually is the case once I know I’m leaving a position, I am now absolutely clawing the walls.

It doesn’t help that I just don’t care. Seriously. I. don’t. give. a. fucking. rat’s. ass. Just let me be done. Ugh. And this is where I’m sooo bad. See, I should leave a place with them still actually liking me and thinking to themselves, “Gosh, she’ll be hard to replace.” But because by the end I am so disinterested and apathetic regarding my job, they’re usually just as eager to see me go as I am to leave (case in point: that EVIL job I was at in Calgary a few months back).

Adders gave me a lecture about this last week, and yes, I know I’m very naughty. It is especially not wise to do this in a small town (because chances are I’ll still have to interact with these people at some point). And I really don’t want to burn any bridges. But c’mon – I’m a goddamn secretary. As long as the phones get answered and the mail delivered and the letters typed, isn’t it okay if I slack just a bit in my last week?

I got yelled at today too. My first time getting yelled at on the job. Ever. (Well, except for back at that evil place in Calgary. But there I was working for Mr. Lucifer and Mrs. Satan. No, no I joke not. They were the Prince and Princess of Darkness. And they took me on a trip to Los Angeles which might as well have been to Hell. Because it was terrible. And there was lots of anguish on my part coupled with tears and gnashing of teeth). (Oh, and I think I got yelled at during my tenure at McDonald’s back in high school. But that also doesn’t count because, well, it just doesn’t. Come on, if they had really yelled at me, they would have been the ones in trouble, not me. And I probably deserved it anyway because having a job where it is 100% impossible to be fired at does not a good worker make). But today, I got yelled at for reals, actually more like bellowed at across the office for everyone to hear.

It was completely unacceptable and I’ll tell you why. Yes, I was on a personal call, a very short one to my father. And yes, I do make personal calls rather frequently (at LEAST once a day) (although they’re usually quite short and if they are going to be long such as my ones to Charkins, I just make sure that no one is in the office). But here’s my biggest complaint: if you don’t like your employees making personal telephone calls at work JUST SAY THE FUCK SO. But please, PLEASE, don’t say that it’s okay, nay encourage them to do so, and then when they do, freak the fuck out. It’s not like I abuse it. Seriously, I don’t. And if I am on a personal call, I ALWAYS make sure that I answer any other call coming through on the other lines. Furthermore, it’s my bloody second to last day. If you were ever going to yell at me about my (frequent) personal calls, you should have done so back like a month ago when I would have actually cared. Instead, being yelled at now has only reaffirmed the goodness in my decision to get the fuck out of this lame-ass job.

Sigh. I know this is a rant. And I should probably just simmer. But see, now my boss, AFTER yelling at me, has just asked me to go do his filing. Wha??!!! Excuuuuuuse me? Oh, and also to run out and buy him a chocolate bar. Is he fucking mad? Like, first up, do your own goddamn filing. Seriously. The folders are all in your desk, in your office, and they’re your clients. Plus, it’s only like three papers to be filed. Get off your own lazy ass and DO IT. Second of all, I’m NOT your errand girl. I repeat, NOT. And maybe I wouldn’t even mind going to get you some chocolate if you hadn’t just been rude and mean to me.

The thing is, I should totally be treated with more respect, especially when, though I might not be doing any actual work this week since I’m rather lazy and too bored to bother, I’m still looking hot. Even more so than usual today which means I’m looking hotT. New dress. New jewellery. Same hotness. And if ANYTHING should count for something, it’s that. ‘Cause buddy? Just remember that I’m the one that makes this company look goooooood.

Hee, hee, hee.

Yeah, I’m being a total bitch. I realize that. But for God’s sake, I just want to be done. Although I’m a bit apprehensive about starting this new job on Tuesday (for the record, it’ll be my fourth job in six months) (impressive, no?) (do you think I have commitment issues?). The reason for this is because I’m a bit worried that my new boss is a definite yeller. SCARY! But at the same time, I think it’s going to be an amazing experience. Terrifying, yes. With lots of responsibility and mean people too. But cool nonetheless. At least that’s what I’m hoping against hope.

So yeah. That’s my news in the job front.

The parent front, well – that’s actually doing surprisingly well. We’ve had a bit of a reconciliation of sorts. Thing are FAR from being back to normal (read: they never will be). But a sort of an apology was extended to Adders by my mom and it was sort of accepted by Adders. My dad is supposed to take Adders’ parents out for coffee to start bridging that gap. And I’ve seen my mom a few times where we’ve managed to have cheery and only slightly phoney conversations about hair, makeup and clothes (at least we still share the most important things in common!).

I’m actually feeling quite optimistic. Cautious, yes. But optimistic nonetheless. Adders is way more suspect than me (no shocker there). But I think even he is ready for us to start moving on and getting everyone on board as best we can. So there you go – miracles can happen, they just never happen the way you’d have liked to seen them take place (because more often than not they usually require you to do all the work). But still. I’m relieved.

And what about my darling Adders you might ask? Well, we’ve been very naughty this past summer. Since I made my return to Cranberry Corners, we’ve spent every single night together at my place (or out at Koocs). This, well, this has mostly been at my insistence. The one night Adders tried to sneak back to his parents, well, similar to my boss today, I freaked the fuck out. I might have even thrown a water bottle at him (oh, wait. Nope. That was another incident. My bad). Point is, he hasn’t since tried to leave my side (awwww). However, now his parents have joined the Morality Campaign and have made noises that we shouldn’t be “ruining the fun of being newlyweds.” And maybe they have a point.

So Adders is looking for new digs (although you can rest assure that he will still be spending many-a-nights with me). And we just may have found the spot. Folks, we have put an offer on what we hope is our first home. EEEEK! Isn’t that so very scary and yet adultish of us? I mean, we might (and I stress MIGHT) be buying our very first home. That’s like, well, that’s like major! A milestone if you will!

It’s really cute and white with black shutters and while the kitchen practically needs to be gutted, it’s still a steal of a deal and so we’re crossing our fingers very tightly.

So yeah – as you can see things are finally starting to go well. For a while there I was in permanent coping mood but now – roses (and by roses, I actually mean diamonds. As in I’ve started looking around for an engagement ring in a serious way). (EEEEK! Another scary/adultish thing! What the hell is going on? Wasn’t my life just like a 17 year olds just a year ago?).

Ok, kids. Well, I’m off. I’ll be writing more next week when I start my new job. With the new boss. Who hopefully isn’t a screamer and appreciates my hotness!

Rockstar Vacation

Hey there!

Yep, it's really me. I'm actually writing. And only a week after I've been back from vacation. Good, no? And I'm actually sooooo in the mood to write tonight. First of all, Adders and I've gone our separate ways for the evening. Him to drink beer and act stupid and say the word "fuck" a lot with his buddies. And me to spend lots and lots of money at Winners (where I found the world's cutest leopard print boots. In a size too small. And yet I've determined that they will fit my feet regardless) with Adders' mom and sis (awww, see? We're already bonding like family! And I'm so bold as to march them both into People's jewelry to show off which rings I would MAYBE POSSIBLY consider letting their son/brother propose with. They secretly hate me, don't they?). So yeah. But now I'm back at the basement suite while Adders is still out carousing with his pals and I've got a few candles lit, a nice cup of tea and I'm ready to go!

But first. Do you ever have those times where you think that you must be pregnant? No seriously. Like, this is probably the first month in the entire time Adders and I have been getting busy (which is now over a year, oh my God! I have been a little sex fiend whore for over a year! How exciting!) that I haven't had a freak-out or worried about the possibility of being preggers. Because I'm not. We're so careful now after months of agony that it's not even feasible. And yet I SOOOO could be.

For example, I was nauseous ALL the livelong morning. And then I've been extremely irritable recently (and NO, Charkins, that's not just me on a regular basis). But oh my God, the crying jags are what are really killing me. I sob all the bloody time, what about, we're not sure. However, if my mother ever does read this, let me just say for the record that almost every single time the crying session culminates in me bawling on Adders' shoulder, "I miss my Mommy!!! Why doesn't she love me and miss me?" Any guilt there, Redhead? No? Oh, quel surprise.

But that's a topic for a WHOLE other entry. In fact, you know what would make a great post? An open letter to my parents. It would go something like this:

Dear Mom and Dad,

You suck.
Fuck off.

xxoo,
Miss Courty

Succint? Yep. Harsh? I guess a tad. Bitter? Hell fucking rights.

But wow, this is so not on topic.

So, without further ado, may I present to you:

Adders & Miss Courty - The Summer Vacation Saga

Right. So for our summer holiday, Miss Courty got the brilliant idea that the A-Man and her should take a road trip down to Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming, with a few days added on in Glacier National Park in Montana. Why? Who the hell really knows. It was a completely whimsical suggestion and I practically fell over when Adders agreed to it.

The trip started on the Saturday and it involved many, many, MANY hours sitting in the Nissan, listening to the really bad CDs I had burned (except, can I just say? I LOVE me some Fergie "London Bridge" song. OH MY GOD. And you should see my car-dance moves to it. They're awesome. Even Adders was amazed; so impressed that he was stunned into silence and had to look away).

But of course, a trip wouldn't be complete for us if there wasn't some drama the first night. This time it involved there being no room in the inn for Adders, Miss Courty and Baby Jesus all throughout the greater southern Montana area. No word of lie. We ended up camped on the side of the road (okay, maybe it was a campground BESIDE the road, but still - it was very dramatic and we totally stole someone's reserved camp spot. We're badasses like that).

The next day we awoke to find that our air mattress - the one we had used only ONCE (1) before - had somehow sprung a leak and we were now lying on the cold tent floor. So we had to find ourselves a Walmart and buy a whole new one. But it was worth it because it meant we got to spend some time in an American Walmart, which is like, the holy grail of discount shopping (cutest sweater vest there EVER. Did Adders let me buy it? No. Did he have a hissy fit when I simply wanted to try it on? Yes. Did I then attempt to steal his keys and drive off in the Nissan without him? Perhaps). Oh, but wait. There's more. The other Walmart story is that at this point I was literally salivating for a morning coffee or frappucino. So I asked one of the Walmart greeters (!) where there was a nearby Starbucks. Well, first of all, my God if only she was one of Adders' patients, we'd be millionaires by now - I don't think she had one single tooth left in there. Secondly, you'd think we were vacationing in Southern Mississippi with the drawl she had going. And lastly, you'd think I'd asked her, "Pardon me, Madam. Do you know where the closest Versace boutique is? I'm desperate for a new evening gown" with the way she gaffawed and was all, "OH MY GAWWWWWD, I haaaave NO idea. But even if I didn't, I wouldn't evah go to a fancy schmancy place like Starbucks. No way." All I could do was blink at her as Adders started frantically pushing me out the door.

Hmmmm, so what else? Well, we spent the next two nights in Yellowstone National Park. We saw a waterfall that, while mesmerizing and beautiful, quite possibly didn't necessitate being captured in 73 pictures. I also managed to go poop. And maybe you find this somewhat disturbing that I'd even mention this. But OH MY GOD - I hadn't gone in four days and the pain and the bloating and the ceaseless complaining to Adders that it felt like I had a litter of kittens in my lower stomach took up so much time and energy that it deservedly needs to be mentioned.

Another highlight was when Adders excitedly jumped out of the truck WITH IT STILL IN DRIVE in order to take a few (read: 47) pictures of some bull elk. Not only did he almost mow me over, but the truck could have gotten scratched! The horror! To get back at him for almost killing us, I announced loudly to Adders in the midst of all the visitors admiring and fawning over the elk, "You want to shoot those elk right now, don't you? You want your gun so you can blow their heads off and take their racks. Pervert." All eyes swivelled to Adders, whose face turned beet-red. Needless to say, he high-tailed it back to the truck. And promptly tried to start it WHILE IT WAS ALREADY ON! Sucker.

Now I would be totally remiss if I didn't tell you about our brushes with the law. Somehow we didn't manage to get a speeding ticket on our trip (although that probably has more to do with the fact that Montana's speed limits are 20 miles per hour higher than it is even possible to drive), but we did manage to get in trouble with several Park Rangers.

So our first night in Yellowstone we camped in the world's suckiest campsite ever (Evah evah? Evah evah). It was basically one large field with wall-to-wall people. Lovely. We were in between a gay couple and about 40 Hell's Angels bikers. Fun. Furthermore, you couldn't sneeze in your tent without all the 300 sites hearing you. Fantastic.

Nevertheless, it was our vacation! And as we've already determined, I'm a sex fiend whore! So after a nice dinner, our nightly constitutional and a few sips of rum to wash down our s'mores, we headed to bed in our tent, and started to, well, you know - get frisky! We were at that point when we were both finally fully naked with Adders on top of me and things are starting to get critical when suddenly a truck pulls into our site, someone jumps out, shines a flashlight into our tent and starts screaming at us, "Is this your coolers and camp stove that you've left out? Excuse me, but if you don't come out here and clean this stuff up, I'm going to have to fine you. Come clean this up NOW!" So now Adders and I are staring at each other going "HOLY MOTHER MARY OF GOD, WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO? AND WHO GOES AND CLEANS UP WHEN WE'RE BOTH BUCK NAKED?" DUH! It's the girl, of course. It's ALWAYS the girl. No good goddamn erections that can't be disguised. So I threw on some clothes, stumbled out of the tent and, shame-faced, put away all our gear as Adders remained in the tent snickering and the Park Ranger alternated between smirking and glowering at me. Sigh. Oh, the glamour. Oh, the romance.

As for the rest of our trip, well, good times were had. Several renditions of 20 Questions were played (as well as Backgammon and Crib which Miss Courty kicked flippin' ass at. But to be fair, I didn't stand a chance against Adders in Connect Four). We stayed in a hotel one night so we could shower (the only time we did during the seven days we were gone. What?! At least we both smelled TOGETHER). And we also spent two other nights in Glacier National Park, which was great fun. Although I did fucking lose it one night when I woke up at 2:30am to someone having a fire across the campground from us but at first thinking the cracking of the wood was a bear walking through the trees. Me: Baby, we need to make a run for the truck. The bear's going to get us in here. For reals, let's run for the truck. Everyone else is. Oh, God, we're going to die. Adders: Do I have to marry you? Really?

So yeah, that was the trip. It really was a lot of fun. Romantic too, despite all the drama!

And now, ya'll, I'm going to bed. Adders is STILL not back (humph. Better not be having fun. At all. None whatsoever. Fun is only to be had with ME). But I'm too sleepy to wait. But before I sign off, I just want to give a little shout-out to a new reader. Yea! Charkins has been doing some solid advertising for me and has found me a new convert named Kelli (hope I spelled that right!). Welcome Kelli. This makes you the third person to read this blog and oh, how I wish I could say I was joking. Feel free to comment. Adders doesn't even know how to write and he still manages to comment once in a while so please do!

Anyhow, kids. Until next time...

Who's that sexy man in a cowboy hat? Why, it's Adders showing that he's almost as hott as Old Faithful!

Proof that we actually did see it. Was it actually faithful? Well, we got to see it blow twice, so I guess it was.

Diet Coke = Crack for Miss Courty, especially during lunch break on a four hour hike.

Yep, that's the waterfall. But who can stare at the cascade when OH MY GOD, that girl may only have an A cup but PUHLEASE put on a goddamn bra.

Here we pose with yet another geyser. And I cannot even convey to you my disappointment that we weren't even allowed to take a dip in them.

So, Adders decided to go fishing. ACROSS the river. After I told him that a real man would. And before we both realized that the river was deceptively deep and fast moving. Oops!

Awww, this picture was taken our last night of vacation.
And yes, that is true joy you see on our faces! :)

Back From the Grave and Home Sweet Home

You probably don't remember me as it's been so long since I wrote. But if you've known my famiy for the past 100 years, you will certainly remember that chair.

Like the apartment? Cute huh? You know what's not cute? Me stuffing my face on cookie dough. Not cute at all.

Adders doing what he does best - waiting for me to serve him whilst he watches television and poses for the camera.

Ahem. Hi, there. Remember me? Miss Courty? Ya’ll have probably stopped reading by now but come back! Please, do come back! I’ll start updating with more regularity than I have been lately, I promise. It’s just, who knew I had so much shit to move? And do you know how hard it is to unpack an entire wardrobe (which includes ALL FOUR SEASONS) in one tiny closet space? It’s impossible, people! It’s like trying to unravel the meaning of life – futile and hopelessly depressing. Adders suggested, you know, getting rid of some clothes. And shoes. And purses. A comment which earned him a place to sleep on the floor. Oh, I joke. I need him in the bed to keep me warm because have I mentioned that I now live in a basement suite? Where it’s a balmy -4° C year round? Lovely.

But I am getting WAY WAY WAY ahead of myself. First let me reintroduce myself: my name is Miss Courty and I am now officially once again a resident of Cranberry Corners. If you had told me this at the age of 17 I would have most likely gasped with disbelief, cried with horror and shame and then maybe have knifed you. And yet, here I am, back in “Cranhole” willingly and (somewhat) happily.

So yeah, I’m back, bitches. Have been for, well, look at that! Just over a month! Oh, my God – has it really been that long? And has it really been that long since I updated? Wow. No wonder ya’ll (read: Charkins) hate me. Well, let’s get straight to business then. I bet you’re wondering how I’m enjoying life in Crannie. And it’s, well, it’s going… good? Fine? Nice? Like with any transition in life, you have to take the good with the bad. But to look at this situation as a whole, it’s just way too overwhelming. So let’s break down my move into some categories: Parents; Job; Apartment; Adders. These four components make up my life in Crannie and they have been the key things that have made this past month both wonderful and pure evil.

So first up – the Folks. Well. I’ve seen them, so that’s a start, no? Straight upon my arrival in town, I went to the house for dinner, which was strained and uncomfortable but obviously the polite thing to do. I’ve also had them over to see my apartment and the four of us (meaning the parents, Adders and myself) even went out to dinner, although my grandparents were present and acted as a buffer (this, however, did not stop Adders and my mother from making it the world’s most AKWARD EVENING EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE) (by the way, have I mentioned the time when asked by my Dad how I enjoyed my new bed, I replied: Well, it’s great. Except for the wheels on it means that it rolls around really easily, which is so annoying. *HORRIBLE EVIL PAUSE WHILE EVERYONE ABSORBS WHAT THIS REALLY MEANS*).

Anyhow, everything with my Dad is hunky dory, as it always has been through all of this mess. I’ve seen him a few times and he phones me constantly, forever talking about the “career advice” he’s going to someday pass on to me (I’ve been hearing him say that for the past nine years of my life. So far I’ve received no advice except Be A Lawyer, Make Big Money). So my Daddy and I are doing good. My mother, on the other hand, is a bit of, hmmmmm how should I put this, well, she’s a bit of a freak show. Apparently, she’s now a “Minister” (please, if you have any sort of affection for me, do NOT even ask) for her Bible Study (I’m begging you here, seriously. Don’t ask – you really don’t want to know). And when she took me out for lunch a few weeks ago, that’s all she would talk about. Forget about the fact that I haven’t really seen her in five months, she spent the entire time blabbing on and on during our lunch date about herself and her religion. AAARRRRRR! Whatever. Let’s just say, though, that when they finally came to see the apartment, it was all I could do to not leave a condom wrapper sitting on the coffee table.

Next category is the Job. Okay, people, I’m going to be blunt with you. I am now a goddamn receptionist. A FUCKING RECEPTIONIST. I studied at McGill University, for fuck’s sake. I graduated with GREAT DISTINCTION. I’m brilliant. Maybe not the kind of brilliance that makes money or is practical in the real world. But I’m brilliant in my own special way (ask Adders. My Mom even told him that I’m a “Chosen One.” I mean, that’s gotta count for something, no? Alright then. Just cue the freaky music right here).

But seriously, I am working as the office administrator at an insurance/investment company here in Crannie. The good news is that I’m making the same amount of money I was at my previous job in Calgary (which wasn’t really any more glamorous than the position I now hold). The bad news is that it’s still an appallingly small salary.

The people I work with are really nice, if a bit anal. But then again, that’s company policy. Like, get this: we have Casual Fridays, but we’re not allowed to wear jeans. CHA! What then is the point of having Casual Fridays? Because let me tell you something, Mister – there is nothing I wear on Casual Fridays that I wouldn’t wear any other day of the week. So let me wear my bloody denim and we’ll all feel better.

Overall, the job is getting better and it’s definitely keeping me busy (I’m not nearly as bored as I was at my previous two jobs). But there is something humiliating about having to sit at the front of the office and greet the common public. Sigh. I have way too big of ego to be doing that. Besides, I left town in a great cloud of glory after my stint at the newspaper, but now I’m crawling back in making less money than the nude dancers who work across the street. Kill me, kill me now. Maybe I should just get that boob job and go join them…

HOWEVER, and I wasn’t going to say anything about it yet, but what the hell – I’ve found a new job. A new really AWESOME and AMAZING and ALMOST AS GOOD AS THE EDITOR job I used to have here in Crannster. I’m not going to go into it now since I really don’t know what to say about it. But here’s a few tidbits: it’s a bit more money, it involves some writing, it’s in something that I love (okay, okay – politics) and I get to be a somebody once again in town! YES! I’ll write more on it later since I still haven’t quit my other job and I don’t start this one for another month.

So let’s talk about the Apartment now. I adore it. It is so cute, so new, so cheerful, etc. What I don’t like about it is that it is very small, very cold, and very damp. The dampness freaks the shit out of me because it means that my apartment is like a honing beacon for every bug living in the East Kootenay region. I’ve killed beetles, spiders, even a goddamn centipede. Seriously! And I think I may have even killed a cockroach. EEEEP! But it is kind a freaky.

And the other thing is, it’s very small. As in teeny tiny I had three people over the other night and I had to sit on the bed so we could all fit. I don’t even mind the smallness. It’s basically just housing me and (99.999999% of the time) Adders, so it is cozy. What I do mind, though, is the lack of storage space. Luckily, my landlord bought two huge cabinets for the entry way that I’m using for precious storage space (yes, I do have a huge mudroom/entry way which is very nice and will be even more so come the winter).

Now, the topic of the cabinets really is a nice segue into a discussion about my next category, which is Adders (I refer to the cabinets only because we almost broke up over the stress of assembling them). Okay, so let’s be honest. Before I moved to Crannie, things were a bit iffy between Adders and me. We were fighting like crazy, both stressed out to the max and I was in constant cry mode because I was so exhausted making the four hour drive between Calgary and Crannie each weekend. Plus, as I’ve told (tell) anyone who’ll listen, it’s like we were stalled or stuck in one spot. Because of the long distance, our relationship was just stagnant and not moving forward, which was frustrating as well.

So I thought that when I moved to Crannie everything would be just lovely between us. You know: romantic walks, tons of sex and homemade dinners every night. Well, first up – let’s just thank the heavens that I get us some free access to McDonald’s or otherwise we’d have starved to death by now, that is how much the both of us hate cooking after a long day of work. As for the other stuff, well, we’ve been on ONE romantic walk. And the sex? Yeah, let’s just say that when you’re fighting 24/7 your sex life takes a definite nose dive.

Oh, I’m being overdramatic. We’re not fighting THAT much, considering how much we have to fight over! And after a particularly BRUTAL fight a few weeks ago, we resolved to both try harder, which has definitely resulted in more peace and lots more love (heh heh heh). But all I know is that I finally understand what that old little rhyme we used to chant as kids is now getting at: First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes so and so pushing the baby carriage. See, as a woman, marriage (or living together, or simply having your boyfriend stay at your place all the freakin’ time) prepares you for children like nothing else. Why? Because boys are like children: they’re loud, they’re messy, they’re ALWAYS hungry, they get bored easily, they’re cranky. Oh, and did I mention that they’re messy (really, really, REALLY messy) (especially after they use the bathroom and shave) (ugh).

If I didn’t (somewhat) bite my tongue, I would be permanently squawking at Adders for everything he’s doing wrong – wet towel on the bed, dishes not washed properly, pistachio shells placed back in the pistachio nut bowl (don’t even get me started on this one), and the constant blaring of the television (speaking of, do all boys watch this much TV or is it just mine? Because I think I’m going to go batty because of it).

So I’m always nagging at him, and he’s always annoyed at me. And yes, you gotta pick your battles, blah blah blah, but I disagree. I’m housetraining him and I’ve got to keep at it.

Or at least that’s what I did think at first. SLOWLY, SLOWLY, SLOWLY I’m trying to be less of a nag and more of a girlfriend. And he is getting SO much better (he now makes the bed, is more conscientious about washing dishes and, awww, has even brought me flowers). Things actually are going quite wonderful now; it's just that I was quite surprised at how rough the first two and a bit weeks were. We really had to adjust being together 24/7 and sort through our various particular living habits (i.e. Me: love to read before bed; Adders: sex or TV. Or how about both? At the same time?).

Anyhow, I don’t want to sound all negative and such. Because honestly, I know without a doubt I made the right decision to move back here. And nothing is more wonderful than getting home at 4:30pm every afternoon and just anticipating five o’clock when I know my sexy man will be walking through the door. In fact, it’s just so great knowing that we now have nothing but time together.

*** BTW, it’s 11:09pm. Adders just warmed up a tortilla. I just said the following two things to him: “Why are you eating that now? You just brushed your teeth! And don’t get crumbs on the floor, I just mopped it earlier.” Hmmm, it never ends, does it?! ***

So yeah, that’s pretty much what’s going on. As for what we actually do, every weekend has been spent out at Koocanusa with Adders' parents (or sometimes his siblings or sometimes just us). We’ve done a ton of water-skiing, some reading, no hiking, excessive eating and lots of laughing. As for our weeknights, God only knows. Adders thinks we spend the majority of our time at Walmart, which I SO disagree with (because hello? If that were true? I would be the happiest girl in the universe. Like get this? I just got a waffle maker there for $4.00. Yeah, you read that price right. FOUR DOLLARS! I lurve that place!). We’ve also been golfing several times. And we may or may not be slightly addicted to “So You Think You Can Dance?”

And now we’re headed off on vacation! Yea! To Yellowstone National Park down in Wyoming, of all places. We’ll be camping for 10 days and if we don’t (a) get eaten by a bear; (b) burned by Old Faithful; (c) lost in the caves on the Lewis and Clark Expedition Trail; or (d) murder each other over one another’s driving (Him: OH MY GOD, BE GENTLE TO MY PRECIOUS TRUCK. THE WORLD ENDS WHEN YOU DRIVE LIKE THAT. Me: OH MY GOD, THE SPEED LIMIT IS ONLY A SUGGESTION. DRIVE FASTER BEFORE I GET OUT AND START PUSHING THIS DAMN TRUCK ALONG), I will definitely post all about it when I get back (and maybe even include pictures! Yahoo!).

So there you go – I doubt any of you are still reading, but I’d love you to start again. I’ll get better about updating, I promise.

Happy Holidays!