Oh Crap! I forgot to check the mail

There is something very appropriate about SweetTarts being my favorite non-candy bar candy.

Snickers are my favorite candy bar.

My boss is a crazy man. He is very generous and funny most of the time. Perhaps crazy is not fair, we have similar personalities and I most certainly am not crazy.
(What?! I'm not...)
For some reason, when he is getting along with his wife he is mean to me. They fight a lot, today they are not fighting.

My love is letting me down more and more lately. It's kind of bumming me out. Last night he explained what's going on... "I got you hooked, now I can be my real self." While he was smiling when he said it, so NOT funny. Mostly because it's true. But the same goes for me I guess.

Little personality quirks come out once you live with someone. It's not always pretty, but we still love each other completely.

I'm not ready for Christmas.

I still don't know what to get my love, and for the first time that I'm aware of, I'm just not feelin' the Christmas spirit this year. Usually I've got tons of ideas and I'm rarin' to go shop and buy tons of well thought out gifts for everyone. This year I'm more like, tell me what you want and I'll go get it and put it in a pretty bag and call it good.
I'm not scroogin', I'm just not... Merry...

I've heard that life is what's happening while you're waiting for it to begin. This is very enlightening and all, but really I've been waiting to get married and settle down since I was in like 4th grade. I like my life, but I really want to buy a house and have my family now. Settled... Secure... you know, little things.

I'm very much stuck in the middle... but I don't know what I'm in the middle of. "Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right, here I am... stuck in the middle with you."

Why is it significantly easier for people to talk about all the bad things rather than the good things? There is definitely a stigma attached to talking about all of the wonderful blessings we have in our lives... it feels like bragging and no one wants to hear it.

The other night we talked about the trick of literature in eliminating the unessential, so that we are given a concentrated dose of life. I said almost indignantly, “It’s a deception and the cause of much disappointment. One reads books and expects life to be just as full of interest and intensity.And, of course, it isn’t so. There are many dull moments in between,and they, too, are natural. You, in your writing, have played the same trick. I expected all our talks to be feverish, portentous. I expected you always drunk, and always delirious. Then when we lived together for a few days, we fell into a profound, quiet, natural rhythm.” – pp 170 ~ Henry and June by Anais Nin

Anais Nin Rocks! or did rock, she's deceased, but her writing lives, therefore she continues to rock.

Anne Rice, John Grisham and Danielle Steel, also rock!

Spike Lee does not rock... in fact I think he pretty much does exactly the opposite of rocking.
Same goes for the Governor of Illinois who tried to auction off Obama's Senatorial Seat. Mister Blagojevich you are the epitome of what is wrong with our country's political process. I hope you spend the rest of your life in a maximum security prison for the criminally insane. (no country club for you!)

Still enjoying the SweetTarts.

Yesterday, I ran 3 miles in 30 minutes on the elliptical.

Then I unloaded and stacked 40 bales of hay ~ with a hole in my hand (more on this), fed the horses, then made dinner and got all the laundry folded!
Yesterday was a good day.

This whole ring thing is bugging me more than I realised. I don't know why he took me ring shopping in the first place... I mean I do know, and his intentions were good, but the time is obviously not right and he needs to not buy it right now. So naturally I'm a little put off. Maybe I'm wrong but I'm disappointed, I know what his money picture looks like and if it meant that much to him... like if he really wanted to do it, he could.

eh... whatever... que sera sera, right?!

I have a dime sized hole in my hand, accompanying an eraser sized blister on my thumb. See, yesterday after I kicked ass at the gym I went to get my Christmas stuff out of storage and when I got there I realised the my love never checked the oil in my truck, which likely explained the horrible sound the engine was making. So after I loaded up all my Christmas boxes I popped the hood and pulled out the dip-stick (the one for the oil, not my soon to be step-son) and sure enough... it was EMPTY!!!! I had ZERO oil in the 1 year old engine of my 15 year old pickup! So I, genius that I am, tried in vain to get the oil cap off the engine so I could add a quart - which was all that I had in the truck because when you have a man as handy as mine it becomes no longer your job to make sure the truck has oil in it. But the engine was still too hot, so the cap was suctioned on and wouldn't move. So I'm standing on the brush guard, in my gym clothes, bent over under the hood, grunting and gripping and trying as hard as I can to get the damn thing to come loose, and instead I got a HUGE blister on my hand. A blister that eventually tore open and started weeping and stinging because the engine compartment (or actually, the entire truck) needs a serious bath in degreaser. So, finally feeling defeated (which I hate) I went to the storage place office and shamefully asked if a man was available to assist me. Which got me one of those sarcastic-you're one of those princessey girls who cant take care of herself-looks. But when I explained what happened and showed her the weeping blister she immediately wiped the sarcastic-you're one of those princessey girls who cant take care of herself-look off her face, and sent her assistant out to help me. He, of course, got the cap off like he was opening a plastic jar of peanut butter... (of course he did!)

I've decided that when making up words, like princessey, it's ok to not worry about spelling.

Running out of SweetTarts

oooh! Peppermint Tea

Cheers!