I know I’m way behind here. I’ve gotta tell you about Denmark (amazing), Lacey’s birthday party (drunken and wonderful), the coffin in the attic (mostly empty), and meeting Ruan in London (yay!).
But most of all, I have to tell you about the man I love. The man that just owns me, wrecks me and utterly delights me. (And who THANK GOODNESS loves me back.) He’s no stranger to my loyal readers, except for the fact that I never did really tell you his name or show you his picture. It’s that same one, the only one.
We’ll get to that.
It’s an insane story, and coming from me that means a lot. Bear with me because it’s also an insanely looooooooooong story. It started when I was five, it covers such topics as in what order do you put employee mailboxes? can you expect to win when you’ve broken all the rules? and remind me again what are the circumstances under which the anti-Christ will be born?
More so than ever, I’m so excited to tell you everything.
We listed them as our “potentially scary to a partner” thing, me my blog, he his child. Today he mentioned that despite my warnings about my blog challanging boundary issues, I had yet to mention him.
I explained that when you have a blog audience, you introduce someone to them as a friend, or as a boyfriend, and not at all until you know which. You know, sort of like your child.
‘Cept I think I just broke my rule. Hopefully y’all are old enough to understand.
Valancy Jane says:
Is it strange that I have a category on my blog just for “ponies”?
You? Not in the slightest.
I have one for “Koalas That Walk Like Men.”
Valancy Jane says:
Of course you do.
This weekend I got to spend some time with our visiting Sassy, and she gave me many, many (SWEET JESUS WOMAN YOU GIVE A LOT OF PRESENTS) things. Jewelry (yes, and not a little), awesome orange baby spoons, and a birthing cd (which I figure is either a seminar by a coach, or a mix tape of trance hits to be played during delivery so either way AWESOME).
Then Sassy signed us up for massages. Fifty minutes of bliss, half way through I agreed to name my child after Kristin, my masseuse. (I’m lucky that’s all she asked for.)
Then Sassy gave me this goddess oil. She is obviously trying to soften me up for eating, and you know what? I don’t mind.
Annie Use Your Telescope – Jacks Mannequin
If you view my blog as a filing system designed to hold my life at my fingertips, all the details of everything I want never to forget, (which I do), then I guess it would seem like some big chunks are missing lately, but it’s not as if I’m in any danger of forgetting this. If the picture ever starts to get fuzzy, then maybe I’ll tell you about the pattern of hair on the back of his hands, the way he never took his eyes off mine in that last cab ride, and how scared he sounded the last time we talked.
But I don’t think I’ll need to.
You are also the only one I can confess this to. Remember when I couldn’t find a song that I wanted, from the movie George of the Jungle, which necessitated admitting publicly to having seen that movie, more than once? And in the giddiness that followed when several people sent it to me, I think I let it slip that I’d seen it a LOT of times, on PURPOSE?
This is worse. But I’m desperate, so here goes. I want a song from Weekend at Bernies II. Which I’ve seen. A lot. Because I own it. STOPJUDGINGMEEVENTHOUGHYOUHAVEEVERYRIGHTTO. The song is listed as Kumm a Klele, by J.D. Nichols. I can’t find it anywhere, except under a slightly different spelling “kumm a kele” on imeem, which means I can link to it here, and listen anytime I’m at my computer. Which is awesome, but what I really really want is to be able to put it on my iPhone.
Kumm A Kele – Weekend at Bernies Soundtrack
iTunes has no idea what I’m talking about, apparently. Nobody seems to sell a Weekend at Bernies II soundtrack, shockingly.
I will make out with anyone who finds this for me.
I’ve never done a really dark layout like this before.
I’m not sure it really feels like me, but I enjoy the way my photos really pop against the black background.