RIP: Double Chocolate Peanut Butter

So we went to visit J's parents this past weekend. It was a fun trip, and seeing as we hardly see his parents at all, not stressful.
One of the big things that happens when we go to visit J's home is that we eat our way through the weekend: Mexican at Mi Hacienda, wings at Fricker's, and frosty chocolate milkshakes at Steak and Shake. Only I don't get chocolate. I like the double chocolate peanut butter shake. It's called a "Sippable Sundae", and it totally is.
So we went Saturday night to pick up shakes to take home with us to drink while sitting on the couch making out (the first place J kissed me? the couch in his parents' family room...I have me some good memories involving that couch) and I ordered my usual. When it came, the girl told me that they'd had to scrape the peanut butter syrup container to make it for me. Apparantly, Steak and Shake is discontinuing their peanut butter shakes. Sigh. I mean, double chocolate is good, but I like that peanut butter edge to it. J says I need to be content with the occasional peanut butter cup flurrie from Dairee Delight, but it won't be the same. Bleh.
In other news, we went shopping while in the States. The reason this is newsworthy is that we never shop when we go to Ohio - there are too many people to see and too much to do, but this time we spent Saturday afternoon shopping for back to school. It's good we don't go much; my pocketbook couldn't handle it. I bought 2 new pairs of shoes, a top, and a pair of jeans, as well as assorted underwear.
Let me tell you how much I love my new jeans. Lane Bryant Perfect Fit is all that it's advertised to be. I'm not sure the last time I put on jeans that didn't gape in the back and fit properly in the hips. I now sing their praises. It didn't hurt that I needed them on Sunday, seeing as I didn't expect the suddenly cooler temperatures and rain that rolled in Saturday night.
Yeah, it's all good. And the summer's almost over. That may actually be good too. I don't want frosty chocolate milkshakes as much in the winter. Dairee Delight isn't open anyways.

Thoughts for a Tuesday Afternoon

It's 5:40 PM and I just got out of the shower. It has been one of those days. I've also decided that blasting Keith Urban through the good speakers attached to J's computer is in order. My ancient stereo from university freaks out every time I put the disc in. So here I sit with still drippy hair, trying to make sense of what's going on. I'm hoping writing will be the answer. I kinda miss all that hair I had for the wedding because it was easy to hide when I really didn't feel like washing it...just pull the ponytail tighter and wait for tomorrow. I obviously spent waaaay too many years at camp when I can say things like that. But it's nice to feel clean; even though I have floury fingers already from putting together pizza dough in the bread machine already. We still need to eat dinner, and I need to be somewhat ambitious during the time that J is at work. I really have only about 2 weeks of vacation left. 2 and a half, technically, but I need to go in and look at the disaster that was my schedule when I left in June and get some prep work done. I know that I have 2 full sections of Grade 10 life skills math, and that neither class will be as math savvy as my wretched Grade 10s of last year. I need to get ready for first week baseline assessments. Not that I really want to think about them. It's more fun to still be on vacation. I've also told J that really, I'm not ever going back to work - but I'll still be collecting my paycheque. I'm not sure how that works, but I'm willing to give it the old college try. I like being home in the day, with few plans and lots of time. Although that would probably get old. Eventually. Things are fine on my end right now. I can't find the dining room table still, but it's coming. J has, unfortunately, started using the same tactics that my mother uses to get me to do things; he'll ask as he leaves for work, "So, you're going to put things away this afternoon, Right?" So I nod and promptly ignore his pointed suggestion. I will say that I paid our bills this afternoon, did 2 loads of laundry, put away the cookbooks (all 2 of them), went through his immigration paperwork, and read a magazine this afternoon. And made pizza dough. And I'm going to do the dishes when I'm done this before I go pick him up. I'm hoping he'll realize without my saying so that suggesting what he wants me to do shuts me down. Maybe I should just tell him. What I started thinking about this afternoon was the fact that when I go back to work, it's going to get a lot harder around here. I mean, the laundry will get done, and meals will arrive on the table, and I'll still pick J up every night, but I worry about how tired I'm going to be. How much work I'm going to have. How I'll have my own political intrigues to navigate. It's going to be interesting. For as I stay home and pay bills, J's mired in a job he doesn't like. It's exhausting for both of us on some level. He's stuck in the fact that this is the one and only place his work visa allows him to be gainfully employed - but he's still looking for a new gig, and with it a new work permit. I haven't told him this yet, but I think he needs that new position before we submit his papers to the Canadian government or they may shut down his plans. We're still trying to figure out if he's going to be able to get the time off to go to Genesis in Cleveland in September, and whether or not he'll actually get to meet my extended family at Christmas. Last year I went alone as he worked. Neither of us want to do that again. While he has time off, he's not allowed to take it, except at the convenience of his employer, which is never because they don't have a backup plan. It's insanity and I'm scared to death he's going to walk away from it and be my financial responsibility. Not that I really blame him with what's been going on recently. No answers, only questions. I just want the outlet. Perhaps tomorrow will make more sense. Then I'll put stuff away.


My last post isn't coming up. Perhaps this will jump start it.

If I Were Dead, it Would Hurt Less

As many of you know, I'm difficult. I may actually thrive on being so. Or perhaps ornery is a better way to descibe it. That's how J describes me, from time to time, when I'm being passive agressive. But today I was labelled as most difficult. I just wish it hadn't been at my first ever pap test. So, seeing as I got married, am over 30, and have never had one done, I figured it was high time to make an appointment. I went to the Women's Health Clinic, and was expecting some discomfort. They're shoving metal things into you so they can collect samples with popsicle sticks and mascara brushes. How comfortable can that be? Yeah. So, J and I had a nice morning, got his hair cut, went grocery shopping, and I took him home before walking over to the hospital. The nurse was very nice - showed me everything, explained it all to me, and left me to disrobe from the waist down. Not a problem. She came back in, warmed the device of evil, and started. The first time she removed it (seeing as I was too stiff to let her put it in anymore), she decided to go with the really narrow one. The second time she removed it, she decided I needed more lube. The third time she removed it, it was at my insistence; seeing as I was about to claw my way backwards over the top of the chair I was reclining in head first. The fourth time it went in, she remarked, "Well, we'll take what we can get. I hope it's enough." Yeah, I hope so too. Then she went to check my ovaries and I just about jumped through my skin. I hadn't thought about the fact that I'm totally ticklish. Go figure. I decided a few things as I walked home after the whole uncomfortable experience: 1. I care enough about my health to go back next year, but I'll take Advil first. 2. I never want a man doing anything like that to me. Ever. I'm sure his attitude would have been, "suck it up." 3. I do not believe I could possibly stretch enough to bear children. 4. The whole thing would be much easier with a couple of muscle relaxants and a bottle of tequila. Queen of Difficult, that's me.

Letters...Oh We've Got Letters...

J and I went to see a touring company of Second City Saturday night. Very funny. One sketch was a guy writing emails to everyone who has pissed him off. Mainly, utility companies. I liked his style. Hence: To: J Subject: I love you, but.... As I sat this morning in the bathroom, enjoying the pleasant breeze coming in through the window, it struck me how hairy you are. For, in that same breeze, a tumbleweed rolled past me made entirely of hair. While I realize that I lose some everyday too, these were a little too grey and a little to short to be my own. Honey, you're shedding, and you're not going bald. I have not decided on the best course of action here, but there will be one. Good thing the cleaning lady comes tomorrow. Your Wife To: My Lawn Guy Subject: You Rock! Thank you so much for getting Glamour Project 2007 off to such an amazing start. I will appreciate the day that I can once again use my own driveway once you have finished removing everything from our backyard. I can see the long-term goal, and assuming that you aren't going to overcharge me for labour and we get close to the agreed upon price, I will recommend you to those near and dear. As for the jackhammering to remove the concrete retaining wall, one wishes you would have warned one first so one could have closed the windows. Dustily yours, Me To: The Guy I Knew in Elementary and High School Who Found Me on Facebook Subject: The Reason I Chose to Ignore you Thank you for feeling it necessary to add me as a friend on Facebook. It's very flattering to have a person that I haven't seen in 15 years, nor thought about, look for me. Not that I've made it difficult, but still! I do find it necessary, however, to explain to you why I don't feel a need to find out what you've been up to for the last decade and a half. 1. I always found you somewhat creepy. Despite the children that you have had with your wife that were in your picture, you're still a little creepy looking. That doesn't sit well with me. 2. Your favourite "books" are listed as Penthouse, Playboy and Swank. The only thing that makes these titles resemble books (other than the facts that they have titles) is that they have pages. And perhaps a contrived storyline, as evidenced by Friends. While I didn't hate high school, there were many things that I abhorred. Your profile is evidence of most of the things that I hated. There are no "Glory Days" to relive with me. I just don't care. Sincerely, The priss from high school who's now a bitch To: The Visa Company Subject: My Ongoing Suffering Thank you for your support of my shopping. Without you, I would not have been able to put on a lovely wedding and go on a fabulous honeymoon with J. Despite the fact that I will pay off the ludicrous amount that I have spent in the last few months over another few months, I get the distinct impression that you enjoy my hemhorraging of money into your coffers. Please stop raising my limit, and extending my grace period. I would prefer all of this solicitousness being channeled into a lowering of my interest rate. No? Well, one must try. Sincerely, The girl with no money to speak of that isn't spoken for To: J Subject: Why I Love You As I lay in bed last night, you rolled over, pulled me close, and held me until I fell asleep. Thank you for not being from my high school Big Smoochies, The girl you married

Of Garage Sales, Cupboards and the Boob Tube

Friends, there is a great deal happening here. I wish it were cooler, or that I didn't sweat. Despite the fact that I am a girl, I do not glisten, I do not glow, I sweat. My glasses slipping down my nose, red face and all that fun stuff. I hate humidity and summer weather. My fingers have also swollen, so I'm not even wearing my rings at the moment. It's very sad. I've been up on a step stool cleaning out the tops of my cupboards looking for things for my friend Andrea's garage sale. With all of the new gifts coming in, I'm making space. As well, with J's (limited) amount of stuff, I apparantly need to make room for it too. Currently, there are 3 boxes in my trunk; and I'm not done. the new kitchen dishes are still in boxes on the dining room floor, and I'm sure there's more lurking in a dark corner of the house that I just haven't uncovered yet. I was in the linen closet this morning looking for a new box of kleenex and was amazed by the fact that despite giving my mother all of the twin sized sheets and blankets that I had for a charity project in my hometown, there is really no space for the new sheets and towels J and I have received. Anyone want some (slightly) used pink towels? My mom got them as wedding gifts. They're only 36 years old next week. She gave them to me when I left for university 15 years ago so that she could go out and purchase new towels. Despite the fact that my bathroom is brown and green, and that J wanted blue towels, I have decided that the pink towels that have nothing wrong with them are leaving my house. Takers? Anyone? Bueller? Andrea is holding the sale and donating the money to a friend of hers who is going on a mission trip. I consider this a great cause that gets the excess out of my house and used again. What's even better: I don't need to hold the garage sale. The problem is, it's Andrea's sale. So far it has changed date twice. I was watching mindless TV last night as J worked on his resume and other necessities for him for job hunting when Andrea called again. A short transcript of the call: Me: Hello? Andrea: Sarah? I'm just calling about the garage sale. It's moving dates again. Is that a problem? M: Nope. When do you want my stuff? A: Well, the new date is Saturday. But I'm busy most of Friday. Could you get things to me by Thursday? M (sounding normal, despite my mental hyperventilation) : Sure. That shouldn't be a problem. A: Great. How about Thursday morning? Just call me when you're ready. Yeah. I had barely started the first box. Suddenly, it must be all out of my house by Thursday. I have a lot to do. Television has become very interesting. Speaking of television, while I love my American husband, I fail to see the allure of college football. He had me call the satellite company yesterday to see if we could get ESPN college ticket so that he can spend all day Saturday this fall watching Big 10 games. Well, the weeks that we aren't at the Big House ourselves. Yeah, it's not going to happen. Apparantly, the Canadian satellite company doesn't think there's enough people here interested to offer the service. We did upgrade our package, tho. J gets the sports channels (which I never saw a point to), and I have discovered the joys of GSN, the Game Show Network. I love Match Game. and Lingo. And Card Sharks. And Press Your Luck. It's a good thing school starts in a month. Otherwise, I should start looking for bonbons and maribou slippers.