I don’t care what they say… I eat raw chocolate cake batter, and I LOVE IT!

I realized this morning that I’m a bathaholic. When some people would run for the bottle, I run for the bath. Of course, if there’s a glass of wine on the edge of that bath, all the better…
‘Scuse me while I SCREAM.
[sigh] They weren’t kidding when they told me you really define your family relationships while planning a wedding. Is it over yet?

A friend of mine is big into the whole nude beach scene. We just had a great conversation about his latest trip to a beach in Florida, and it sounds like a really interesting time –
I don’t know if I’d be able to do it. I understand why people enjoy it, but I think I’d have a hard time having a completely serious conversation with a naked stranger. He’d be talking about the building tension with North Korea, and I’d be thinking the whole time, “I can see your penis! I can see your penis!”

It’s been a while, and there’s a whole new crew of awesome bloggers –
I think it’s time to revive Guess the Blogger Babyface!
So — email me your baby pics, along with a recent picture of you. The closer up the better! I’ll get the newest round up when the wedding’s over.

I was having a conversation with Nora last night about Trading Spaces. Here’s what we came up with:
1. Paige, as much as I covet that cute haircut, annoys the fluck out of us. Even the guys hate her.
2. We love Frank. And Ty.
3. Amy Wynn’s sleeping with Genevieve.
4. Laurie’s getting it on with Genevieve.
5. We think Paige probably is, too.
6. Doug is a numero uno supreme ass. Especially in those leather pants. Yuck.
7. What is up with Paige’s need to hold everyone’s hand? Have you noticed how she needs to be touching every husband excessively?
8. Paige annoys us. We love Frank & Ty. Did I already say that?
Did I forget anything? Oh yeah. Go take the Which Trading Space Character Are You? quiz. I’m Vern — appropriate, I guess.

So Jay and I went to dinner tonight, and had the chattiest waiter.
Too chatty.
Now, I’m the type who thinks that I should be able to get my hair cut without ever having to share any tidbit of my life story. So when we’re out to dinner, I expect the waiter to take our order, smile, perhaps offer the specials for the evening, and check back to make sure everything’s ok.
Not our waiter tonight — I now know everything about him. A little chitchat is ok — but not a life history! It got to the point where he was asking the table next to us what their resolutions for the new year were!
So, of course, Jay and I came up with some of our own, should he ask us the same:
“I’m giving up anal sex with strangers — my doctor says it’s bad for me.”
“I’m resolving not to have twenty minute conversations with complete strangers.”
Alas, he didn’t ask us for ours. But man, I would have fallen over in giggles if he had.

Yup, yup. I’m here. Been sidetracked with holiday & wedding stuff.
Meeting Statia today. I know you’re all jealous. Me, I’m just twitching at the mere thought of being in the same city as her. I’m breathing the same air as Statia, the goddess of the smacked ass, queen of the plastic jesus! Holla at that noise! How cool.
I’m sure there will be pictures galore. Of course, they won’t involve a hot tub, but there might be a froggie hat involved. That should be enough for y’all.
BTW, was Santa good to you? I got spoiled. A spoiled brat — yup, that’s me!

Merry Christmas
from me, Jay & my rockin’ new froggie hat & mittens!
(Yes, I thoroughly enjoy being an embarrassment to everyone I walk out in public with. And an incredibly special holiday cheer to Q & my brother — both of whom have gotten engaged in the last 48 hours (but not to each other!))

Growing up, my mom would split the presents into rooms — my gifts would go in my sister’s, etc. We would each be responsible for wrapping those gifts — with a very firm & understood “no peeking” rule from my mom… which we, like dutiful little children, adhered to completely.
*coubullshitgh*
It became a game — a lot of “I know what yoooooooooou got” and a lot of bribery: “Wanna know what was in that big box? Tell me what the weird shaped one is.”
Jay & I decided this year to wait until we get to my parents to open our gifts to each other. This is incredibly hard for me, as it is IMPOSSIBLE for me to keep gifts from people. I’m running around the apartment, teasing Jay with boxes & bags & little snippets of gifts, and seriously itching to show him what I got him. (No, seriously, I’m itching. I think I’m having a reaction to something in the tanning booth. Can we all say a collective “Yuck”?)
The best part? He just rubbed something soft and suede-like against my face (eyes closed, of course). That’s totally enough to keep me going until Christmas day.

I saw a perfect bumper sticker just now: Mean people spawn littlier mean people.
Someone hit the car again. This time it’s a black rubber mark up the back side, with a scratch underneath.
And no note.
Merry f’in Christmas. There’s the holiday spirit for ya.