Log inskip to content

Archive for the 'Baret' Category

The Future Mrs. Worm

Thursday, February 12th, 2009

I realize that - originally - this post was filled with Latin lorem ipsum and I apologize for that (if you're a writer or designer & don't know what 'lorem ipsum' is, I highly suggest clicking on that link).  I uploaded the photo of us in Nashville and forgot to "un-publish" the blog post until I could actually write something on it.  Here is what you should have been seeing:

On Christmas Day, as I sat - with a bad cold - feeling miserable at my computer desk and dreading the rest of the holidaze visiting and traveling we were going to have to do, Baret asked me how I felt.

"Like crap," I muttered.

He stepped out of the room, but I thought nothing of it until he returned holding a little black box.

My pace quickened as he handed it to me and asked, innocently, if that would make me feel better.

My mind was screaming, "Nooooo! That is terrifying!  Feel better?!  I feel like I may have a heart attack!"

But I simply nodded.  He opened the box, got on one knee and told me he loved our life, couldn't imagine living it without me, and that he wanted to let me know he meant it, he was serious, that I was the woman for him.  Then he asked me to marry him.

At this point, all I could stutter out was, "Are you serious?"  (Very romantic, I know)

He snapped the box shut, laughed, and put it on my desk, teasingly telling me, "No, not at all.  It was just a joke."

I smiled weakly and said, "OMFGWTFBBQ THIS IS NOT HAPPENING TO ME!" (in my head) and, "Yes", aloud.

I then stuck out my shaking hand, and he slid the ring - too big, he said we'd get it resized - onto my finger.

It felt like a 100 lb. weight.  We hugged and kissed; I cried a little.  I was...confused.  On one hand I was thrilled, excited, and so in love with my sweet, near-perfect man in that moment.  On the other, all of my previous fears about marriage (remember, I've never seen a happy one) were crushing down on me, and my childhood voice rung in my ears, "I'm never getting married!"

Saying "yes" was going against everything I'd ever sworn to myself.  It was a step I swore I would never take.

I reasoned with myself, though.  I will never - as long as I look - find another Baret.  Everyone wants one!  If I had a nickel for everytime someone said, "Everybody needs a Baret!" or "Everyone loves Baret!", I'd be able to quit my day job.  It's just that he really is that amazing.  And he loves me - adores me, even.  He takes care of me, helps me be more stable, and makes me laugh - constantly.  He lets me be myself, while also helping me improve my less responsible qualities.  I am a better person because of him, and that is simply the truth.  As much as I fight against his sage lessons about "being a grown-up", it does seep in and I do change - for the better.

Also, let's be honest - not many men are jumping at the chance to live with and take care of a semi-handicapped mate.  Besides the perk of lifetime good parking, there are a lot of cons that come with dating me.  Baret has been there since the beginning - before I was so disabled - and has helped me get to the point I am today (almost completely self-sufficient).  He doesn't mind pushing me around in a wheelchair when I need it or packing my seat-walker into the car.  He's not embarassed to walk beside me when I use my cane (which I'm supposed to always do, per my doctor, but which I generally don't because...well, would you want to?).

After the shock wore off, I became more comfortable with the idea; even a little excited about planning the wedding (which I, also, said I'd never do because Mom taught me at a young age that weddings were a "stupid waste of money").  That became deeply ingrained in me and I'm having a hard time with it.  As soon as I get excited about something wedding-related, a part of my brain begins to scold and mock me, "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"  But Baret and I talked it over, and he said he really wants a nice wedding - the whole me walking down the aisle towards him-bit.  He says he only ever plans to do this once (I never planned for even that much!) and the fact that he loves me enough to marry me means he wants to do it right.  That meant a lot to me.  Especially since most guys don't give a crap about the actual wedding and want nothing to do with its planning, but Baret has been excited and very patient as I drool over colors, flowers, décor, dresses, and locations in magazines and online.  He doesn't roll his eyes or look put-out when I discuss colors with him or go over the cake top we want.  He is genuinely interested in planning our wedding together.  I'd be a fool not to marry this guy, believe me, I know!

My sister is getting married in early October, so most family wedding planning is focused on her right now, which is awesome.  I can get some ideas helping her out (she made me cry when she asked me to be her maid-of-honor and of course I asked her to be mine...she's my sista!)  My sister deserves all the happiness in the world, she's suffered a lot, and the smile on her face these days brings joy to my heart.  She's very happy, and that makes us all happy.  Naturally, I wish she and Blake all the happiness in the world.

For me, I'm pretty convinced I've stumbled upon a goldmine of a guy.  Letting him go would be a mistake (not that he'd leave if I'd said "no" but still).  It's taking our relationship to the next level, making a promise to one another, showing the world how much we love one another.  After seven and a half years together, five of those actually living together, I don't expect there to be many surprises.  Still, I sort of get goose-bumpy thinking about tackling things in life as a married couple.  Now that I've let myself embrace the idea, it doesn't seem as horrifying as it once did.  I mean, I'm marrying Baret.  That right there makes it...totally cool.

Got My Valentine

Wednesday, February 13th, 2008

Tomorrow at work I will get a call to come downstairs. Upon arriving at the front desk, I will be greeted with a big, beautiful vase or box full of colorful flowers or red roses. All of this will happen because it is Valentine's Day; just as it has happened very Valentine's Day (and every birthday) since I began dating that handsome guy in the photo there.

In the past six and a half years, we have had our ups and downs with many laughs in between. Even during our worst times, he has made me the happiest woman in the world. Together we are able to work past just about anything, even if our only common ground is the love we have for one another.

When I was single, I always hated Valentine's Day - but now, I have absolutely every reason to celebrate.

Why I Am The Luckiest Woman in the World

Monday, November 26th, 2007

Last week I came down with a nasty cold that had me nearly bed-ridden with a low-grade fever and sneezing fits for days. One of these days, my sweet man came home from lunch after having stopped at a local grocery. It was some time after I heard the keys in the door that he made his way upstairs; I, lost in my Memoirs of a Geisha DVD, did not notice the lapse in time until he appeared in the doorway to our bedroom - a heavy-laden tray in his hands.

Upon this tray was a glass of ice water, a small glass of orange juice, a plain ham sandwich cut into agreeable fours, a bowl of chunky chicken noodle soup, and a can of just-opened Pringles. It could not have been a more perfect meal for me in my sickly state, or a more kind gesture by the man I love. I ate one and a half of the sandwich squares and sopped up most of my broth and tasty noodle & chicken bits on Pringles crisps...my favorite way to eat any soup. The orange juice revived me, and the cold, ice water was heaven to my parched lips and dry throat.

He sat quietly next to me on the bed, eating his own lunch and watching the movie with me. After it ended, we napped for a few moments before he had to return to work, and I slept soundly for over two hours after he gently disentangled himself from me and crept out.

Better now, and thinking back on the episode, I realize - as I often do - how absolutely blessed I am to have this man in my life. Not only do we love each other to the point of silliness and cherish every moment we have together (even though we share a home and see one another daily), we still - after over six years - go out of our way to do little things for the other. There is still much thoughtfulness, caring, giving, and sharing that goes on in this relationship - when I long thought such things would have dried up and blown away.

Had you told me five years ago that our home today would be filled with such harmony - a mixture of the pretty mews of our kitty "children" and the shared laughter of dozens of common joys and interests - I would have scoffed. We are absolutely different people with very different ideas on day-to-day living and survival; to top it off, I'm a manic-depressive, sometimes-bitter cripple, partial ADHD mess prone to panic attacks and high states of nervous anxiety. He's not always easy to live with either, but to be fair, I take the cake in the "most difficult to live with" category. Yet, still, despite these seeming insurmountable obstacles - we make it work.

It is not ever easy, and it sometimes involves lots of yelling (yelling, tears, and throwing on my part), but at the end of the day we both have in common that fact that we're absolutely mad about each other; enough so that all of the trials and tribulations we go through to make "us" work are undoubtedly worth it.

When the going is good - and it often is - it is so worth it. We laugh and love and laugh some more, we cuddle our "children", marvel over our good fortune, and thank the stars for our warm home, our wonderful friends and family, our healthy furbabies, and - most of all - for each other.

And when times get tough, and there he is - nursing me through a fever, leg pains, or a panic attack - no matter the agony I may be going through at the moment, I know that I just might be the luckiest woman in the world.

I’m His Pin-Up Girl

Friday, March 17th, 2006

The Worm has been on this Tomb Raider-Angelina Jolie kick as of late. When he got his new laptop, he put a Angelina Jolie as Lara Croft wallpaper up along with a same-themed screen saver. Next thing I know, he has the same wallpaper and screen saver on his desktop computer. The next evening, he's watching one of the Tomb Raider movies on his laptop while playing Everquest.

I love Angelina as much as the next guy/girl, and I don't mind him having women on his desktop - but this was a bit of overkill, in my opinion.

"What's this with all the Angelina Jolie?" I asked, starting to feel a little unappreciated.

"It's nothing," he replied. "Why? You've never minded before. She's hot; even you think she's hot."

"True." I grinned, deciding to tease him, "I don't see you putting your hot girlfriend up as your desktop wallpaper, though."

He pointed out that I didn't have his handsome face on my computers either. Touche.

The next morning he got up earlier than me; which is pretty odd. I thought nothing of it, until I stumbled out of the bedroom ten minutes later and into the computer room. He was downstairs making breakfast, and the room was illiuminated only by the glow of his desktop computer's monitor - which had a large image of my smiling face tiled all over it.

Have I mentioned that I love this man?

I’m Going Back to NOLA…

Saturday, August 20th, 2005

At the end of this month, The Worm and I will hit the four year mark. It's a marker for both of us in that neither of us has ever been in a relationship this long. The Worm's never made it past two years, and my first live-in love and I made it three years and a handful of months. To mark the occasion of putting up with each other for four whole years, we decided we'd do something we've never done before - celebrate our anniversary.

No, really, we've never celebrated it. There were always things going on; when we hit the one year mark I was recovering from my first knee surgery and it passed nearly unnoticed. After that, it was never a big deal.

But this year we decided to commemorate our first date - the one that sealed the deal. It was a Counting Crows concert at The House of Blues in New Orleans.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love New Orleans? Well, I haven't been much since my leg got fucked up; and even then I was in a wheelchair. Since I'm more mobile these days (though not fixed by any means) we decided we'd get a room and party in the French Quarter like we used to do.

I'm very excited. Our hotel is only a few blocks off of the French Quarter - we check in this evening and check out tomorrow, but that's really all the time we need to get drunk on Bourbon Street.

I promise pictures when we return! And next week I also promise to come back full-force with some unusual things that have occurred that I just haven't had time to blog about before.

With that, I'm headed to the Big Easy to gulp down my first Hurricane of the day...

Proof that The Worm and I play entirely too much Everquest

Sunday, July 31st, 2005

Me, half-jokingly: Am I ever going to get any of that dick? (Referring to the fact that we've been too busy over the past two days playing games to have sex).

Worm: I don't know. It's a random spawn.

Me, snorting: More like a rare spawn.

Worm: I knew that was coming.

(At this point we're both giggling).

Me: Well, hell. I've been camping that damn thing all weekend long!

I'm not sure what's worse. The fact that this conversation took place, at all, or the fact that we both got the jokes well enough to be pissing ourselves with laughter.

Can’t Get Away

Monday, October 11th, 2004

The Worm and I's attempt to "get away from computers" for a weekend turned out just the opposite. We'd been hired to clean up a company's computers, but the job took about three-hours-longer-than-planned, which ended up canceling out the plans we'd made for that evening to "get away" together.

But it still worked out. Instead we rented a hotel room where we were (about an hour away from home), went out to eat and stayed up late drinking wine and playing cards in our room.

We also resolved our relationship problems and have decided to give it another go - thanks to everyone for their kind thoughts. I've just got to appreciate my man a little more and try to be a bit more helpful with the day-to-day household stuff; as it is he does everything which makes him feel more like a slave than my much-loved man. We've both agreed to make some changes, and so far things are going great. The magic is back - for a time at least. We'll see how it goes. No one ever said relationships were easy; and if anyone did, they were completely stupid.

The most memorable part of the weekend had to be the bling-bling housekeeping at the hotel where we stayed. We were walking back to our rooms after breakfast, and the maid was busy knocking on doors and trying to get in to clean the rooms. As she walked from one door to the next I noticed that her hot pink sweatpants had "BLING BLING" on the seat of them. One "bling" for each ass cheek. I'm not sure how much bling bling you can afford working as a hotel room cleaner, but apparently her ass has enough bling all on its own.

In closing, I would like to request that all mothers teach their young daughters how to use public toilets. I'm getting quite fed up with going into public restrooms and finding urine all over the seats, unflushed tampons in the bowls and a million other unmentionable atrocities. Who taught these women how to go to the bathroom?! Men, you have no idea how NASTY women's public bathrooms are. I ventured into a Wal-Mart one this weekend and the choice to be made wasn't "the toliet with no piss on the seat" but "the toliet with the least amount of piss on the seat". I would've held it if I didn't hadn't had to go so bad. There was one toliet where the person had taken about 50 of the seat covers, placed them on the seat all askew and then pissed all over them. And left them there. The thick clump of 50-something seat covers sat there, the center parts half-dragged out of the toliet, covered in pee. She hadn't even flushed. I've seen seats with so many pee sprinkles on them that you swear the woman hovered her ass over the seat and rotated her hips in a circular motion to make sure she covered the entire seat as she peed. They pee on the floor, on the seat, under the seat - they pee in the bowl and don't flush it. For the love of everything good under the sun, women, please, pee like civilized people when in public and teach your daughters to do the same!!