Bellying up to the bargaining table…

Hypothetical question: Is it wrong to use our future children as bargaining chips during disagreements about where to live, what setting to use on the air conditioner and whose turn it is to do the laundry? Just wondering…
The Pretend Husband and I spent the weekend with a large group of my college friends, who are much like they were seven years ago except for two of them now being parents to a cute kid named Zach. The presence of a baby during our reunion weekend created a bit of a stirring in the loins of the women… and comments from the guys like, “I’m happy being an uncle.”
Unable to pin the PH down to a baby-creating schedule on the way home from the weekend, I had to resort to slipping it into the conversation in other ways. Talking about the advantages of living in Vermont, I pointed out how much room it would give our kids to play. When the PH said he wanted a motorcycle, I conceded that he could get one after I had a child.
Having gotten the hang of the negotiating (although I have a feeling that, as an attorney, the PH will be able to find a loophole), I may have gone a bit overboard. Driving home from the Pretend In-Laws with Molly, we picked up Chinese food for dinner. I was starving and overtired from having been in the car for more than three hours. Having decided I would die if I had to drive 20 more minutes without at least tasting my dinner, I sank to a new low. I offered to let the PH turn up the AC in exchange for him digging through the bag and handing over my egg roll.
I fear that, from here, it’s only a small leap to, “You can have a television in the bedroom if you knock me up before I’m 32.” Sadly enough, I really think it would work. The PH loves TV that much.

I love my peeps.

There is something about a three-day (nearly four day) birthday celebration that makes you feel so loved. It's even worth a second blog entry about it. And hello? Let's just reflect on the ominousnous of 2-9. Ouch.

As my colleague put it: You're really just in a holding pattern now.

So, it started Thursday with a little pre-birthday happy hour and dinner with the girls from work at a place in SoNo. Great food, fantastic company and lots of sangria. I have, in the past six months, gone from "no work friends" to three good friends who I couldn't imagine work without. As awesome as this is, it's also a little tough because I had always viewed the fact that I was distant from the people here as an advantage.

The best part about this -- aside from the 1.5 hour stone massage gift certificate they got me -- was the fact that I was able to stay at Jill's house -- which means my 1.5 hour commute was oh, 20 minutes the next morning - and time to stop for Dunkin Donuts.

It was a little odd waking up in New Canaan -- in fact, the whole night felt like i was out of state. And in some ways, as I've reflected on this before, Fairfield county truly is another state.

So the next day, I was greeted by a Diet Coke from Tasha, a bottle of aromatherapeutic bath salts from Megan, and lots of Happy Birthday post it notes. And, for the first time all summer, i took advantage of summer hours and left when everyone else did.

And is there a better way to spend a birthday night than with KAT and the ph playing Trivia Pursuit and cooking dinner? There is. It's hanging out with KAT and the ph playing setback and eating takeout.

Saturday we went for our first really real double date -- by dinner and a movie standards. And guess how we wrapped up the night? Did you guess more setback? You're right. It's like we've become retired people and live in Boca. We clearly need more hobbies.

And Sunday, I spent with my family -- which, as I get older and wiser and slightly closer to adulthood, I'm getting to appreciate more and more.

To recap: 29. No kids (and none on the way.) Career is ... well, it varies on the day of the week. Marraige is happy. Friends are fantastique. Blogging is clearly lacking in prolificity. And I still haven't got the second season of Wonder Woman on DVD, but all in all, it's been a good ride so far.

Lordy, Lordy, SJ’s 29!

Although today may not feel different to most people, SJ is surely feeling something (an ache in her neck, a migraine headache and a sore back if I know her at all!). Other than the physical pains, she’s probably feeling a wee bit older on her special day. And to put to rest what her husband tries to make people believe, she really is only 29… not 35.
I know most of our readers know SJ well, but for those of you who don’t, a brief tribute. She’s a free-spirited, fun-loving creative gal who would have fit in well with hippies. She is the type of person who can buy a piece of clothing from Goodwill and make it look like it fits in the trendiest coffee shop in SoHo. She can take three ingredients and whip them into a restaurant-quality meal. She wears funky jewelry and glittering diamond rings with the same amount of flair. She’s kind, she’s funny and she’s always willing to lend an ear or a shoulder to a friend.
And so we begin the countdown of SJ’s last 12 months to 30… here's to her enjoying the ride.
Happy Birthday, my friend!

She returns, from the very depths of too much ibuprofen and tylenol.

i'm broken.

i'm not sure what i did to myself to cause me to break. but i've broken. my neck has rebeled against my head. it's sick and tired of carrying it around. it's laid down the gauntlet and decided: "forget you. if you don't treat me right, you'll know my wrath."

so the upshot is, i've had a stiff neck for five days which has gotten progressively worse. so tomorrow i'm going to the doctor in hopes of getting stronger drugs so that i can once again lift my head to the heavens in order to roll my eyes and hope for divine inspiration or intervention -- depending on what i need at the time.

in other news, i met an author on Saturday. Ms. Smith was a joy to talk to and an effervescent kind of woman who makes you want to read her book because she so clearly loves what she does. I admit that it's not the usual kind of book that I read -- but what's usual for me anyhow? i'm an unusual kind of person anyway. I liked Kathryn Smith, and hope that I'll take her up on all of her links and such that she gave to me to encourage my own writing habit.

He's cute when he panics

I gave the Pretend Husband copies of my past tax returns in an envelope yesterday and repeatedly warned him about not losing them, leaving them at his office, etc. Apparently, he listens to me as well as our puppy does (still working on the basics, like "Come," "Sit" and "Please don't chew on the coffee table.") So this is the email the PH sent me this morning…

It just occurred to me that I do not have your information on my desk. In a moment of panic I thought... “idiot, idiot, idiot! How could I lose your information? How would I get back all of your tax returns???? How will my life change– never have sex again except for the purposes of reproduction? How would it feel to be greeted with a look of bewilderment and disgust?” These thoughts went on for what felt like an eternity...
Then I got a grip on myself. I said to myself, “Chris (that is what I usually call myself in times of crisis), what did you do with the stuff? You were on the phone in your office, that is it!! Where could it be?” Hmmmm.... what did I do yesterday? Where was I before I left?
Oh yeah, the paralegals asked you about an envelope left in a file you closed yesterday. The other attorney is an idiot. Why did he leave me an envelope with somebody's tax information? What an idiot. Call the other attorney’s office and ask them what they want us to do with the information. In fact, ask his courier when they show up to pick up the package. What? The courier doesn't know what that is either? Oh well, hang onto it until they tell us what it is.
Then I thought, what was the name in that envelope? Looks a lot like the envelope I got from KAT. Do you think.....? No. Well, let’s check it out. Hmmmm..... KAT. Holy crap!!! I am the moron. Not the other attorney. However, I just saved my life and my sex life for that matter. It is only 10:30 am.
I love you!!

What did those commas ever do to you?

Overheard at work:
A know-it-all coworker commenting about someone she was going to interview being late for their appointment:
“I hate punctuation!”
(Um, do you mean "punctuality?" And why would you hate someone being on time?)

True love

I noticed today that a colleague of mine was wearing a new engagement ring and wedding band. After she affirmed that she had married her longtime boyfriend and I congratulated her, here’s what she had to say: “Basically, he’s been traveling back and forth every three months and this way I can be his sponsor for a green card. His parents were coming into town and three days before they arrived, we thought, ‘if we’re going to do it, we might as well do it now.’ It’s basically a last-ditch effort. It was either get married or break up and I figured I already have five years invested in the relationship. Besides, I’ve been divorced so it wouldn’t be such a big deal if this doesn’t work out. I’m probably taking these rings off as soon as his parents leave this afternoon. So it wasn’t really a ‘til death do us part’ thing. But thanks for your congratulations.”
And isn’t that exactly the kind of marriage every little girl dreams of?!?

How I Know I’m Not Ready to Be 30:

* At a family Fourth of July picnic, I couldn’t resist the temptation to get on the trampoline with the kids. I jumped so hard, I made one little boy bounce around and cry… twice! I asked him if he wanted us to stop jumping so he could get off and he cried, “No, I want you to go!” Tough luck, kiddo! I stayed.
* At a recent wedding (don't worry, MM, it wasn't yours!), I had enough Cosmopolitans during the cocktail hour to last me most of the night. That didn’t stop me, though, and I tried to order a Cabernet Sauvignon by asking for “a Cabernon Savernet” (in a French accent, of course!) Why the bartender didn’t cut me off is beyond me.
* I ended the night of the same wedding by vomiting. I’ve only thrown up three times in my life from drinking, but they all seem to have marked major events– the night after I graduated from college, following a wake for a coworker and now, a wedding. Having a christening or a bar mitzvah? Invite me– I promise an entertaining time for everyone!

"Orange" You Sad You Missed This Wedding?!?

You know how every wedding has those silly little things happen that may not seem funny at the time, but are sure to bring lots of laughter in the years to come? Despite my friend MM being the most organized person I know– planning her wedding down to the coordinating blue ribbons on the bridesmaid gifts– even hers could not escape those silly happenings. And I figure, why wait to laugh? Here are some of the highlights from the MM marries MP nuptials…
*Bridesmaid Lynne’s strong resemblance to an Oompa Loompa (those little orange men in “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”). Although I was happy to live with the tan lines on my shoulders in the wedding photos, Lynne looked like she was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt over her tan arms. Her plan was to test self-tanner on her feet the night before the wedding and then spray it on her shoulders in time to look stunning in the strapless bridesmaid dress. Not fully reading the directions, Lynne shot off a couple of squirts of self-tanner at her feet and waited for them to turn a deep, rich tan color. When it didn’t happen in two or three minutes, she continued to spray her feet at a close range. It was then that she read the can and found it would take two to three HOURS for the tan to appear. The rehearsal dinner was spent making periodic checks on Lynne’s feet and watching them turn orange (with dark orange drips as garnish). Luckily, she erred on the side of caution when later using the stuff on her shoulders.
*The father of the bride, ignoring the wishes of his wife and daughter, spent the day before the wedding working in the yard… and collecting gnat bites on his forehead. They faded in time for the wedding, but if they hadn’t, Lynne planned a surprise attack on Mr. M’s forehead with the self-tanner.
*The wedding coordinator at the church confused the groom, MP, with the best man, Mike. And the two men let her go on for a bit before asking any questions.
Coordinator: You two will stand here. MP, when the maid of honor arrives at the altar, you’re going to escort her to this chair and sit next to her.
Two Guys: OK.
Coordinator: And Mike, you’re going to wait here for the bride and her father.
Two Guys: OK.
Coordinator: Mike, you shake the father’s hand and greet the bride.
Two Guys: Sounds good.
Coordinator: You can even give her a little kiss on the cheek if you want.
Two Guys: Um, OK.
Coordinator: Then Mike, you escort the bride to this seat over here and sit next to her.
MP: Wait, I’M the groom. Shouldn’t I sit next to her?
*The mean male manicurist who worked on me and one of the other bridesmaids. He told me my thumbs would look silly if I didn’t have tips put on them and yelled at her for having short nails. (Um, buddy? You work for tips! Zip it!)
*The make-up artist who would NOT STOP TALKING. She made us all an hour late to get the bride home to change, giving us 10 minutes to throw on our dresses and shoes before the photographer arrived. I spent a half hour not responding to her while she did my make-up and still learned:
1. Her parents corrected her grammar all the time while she was growing up, making her nervous about word usage.
2. She woke up late and hadn’t eaten anything yet. If I heard gurgling, it was probably her stomach.
3. Her eyes water a lot.
4. Her nose piercing really, really itched and that’s why she kept making weird faces.
5. She really likes to eat.
6. Tons of other facts about herself that I had no interest in.
While the weekend didn’t go off without a hitch, in the end, they did get hitched. MM and MP were married in a beautiful ceremony (making them both MP– I have no idea how to identify them in future stories!) Congrats to the happy couple! (And for the rest of you, I’ll sell funny photos of Lynne’s feet for the low, low price of $5– email me for details.)