Happy Anniversary to ME!!


So, it’s Husband and my anniversary. Two whole years! Wow. Who said marriages don’t last?

I tried to talk Husband into staying home (and naked) for the day, but he wasn’t buying it.


Me:  If you stay home, I’ll make it worth your while…
Husband:  How’s that?
Me:  Oh, you know…a little of this…a whole lota that. I’ll make you very happy you married me.
Husband:  I’m already happy I married you.
Me:  If you stay home, I’ll promise to perform my wifely duties. No complaints!
Husband: You’ll perform them anyway. And when do you ever complain about them?



He’s right, of course.

I’ll gladly molest him when he gets home. I’m just sad that I’ve revealed myself as a wife that likes performing the Oral Loving, and have therefore, lost all my Power. I’ll have to learn a few new tricks. I can’t have him taking me for granted.

I have also made him a chocolate cake. For him, a powerful aphrodisiac. I swear, he could walk in on me buck-naked, with a cake in my hands, and he’d say, “Hey! Cake!! Oh, and nice tits.” Bastard.

Our weekend camping excursion proved nice, and mercifully short. I am a Camping Snob. I love the outdoors, as long as there are flush toilets, shower facilities, and no bugs.

We drove up to MBC Saturday afternoon, and stayed until noon on Sunday. It was to the beach first. Although a little too nippley to swim, we put on our suits (did I mention, I just bought myself the cutest new suit. Two piece tankini. Black bottoms. Black top covered with a zillioin tiny white daisies, with a purple or yellow flower every so often) anyhow, and soaked up the Vitamin D. Then Bill took us for a ride on his boat. It was a small, slightly ratty vessel, but the ride was amazing. We went up the river to see Camp W, (where I spent several summers as a child) and then took a trip around the lake to check out all the gigantic summer homes. I sat up at the front, (sorry: BOW) of the boat and felt rather like Kate Winslet for more than a moment. All sexy and windblown. Sigh. It was wonderful.

After the Three Hour Tour, we had dinner. Shish kabobs. Mmm. Ruth Anne and Darlene were so thoughtful. They made me some veggies one, and were very careful not to let them get contaminated. I was touched. Truly.

After dinner, we just hung around the campfire and told stories about getting caught having sex. Did I mention that everyone there was from our church? Fairly hysterical.

Husband and I had rotten luck with our air mattresses. I say mattresses because we brought two. The first is a Coleman we bought from Canadian Tire. The second we bought at a yard sale. It was one of those AeroBed things. Anyhow, we blew up the AeroBed, then scrapped it, as it had a giant gash in it. The Coleman didn’t fair much better, although at least it had the decency to slowly deflate throughout the night. It’s a good thing the ground was sandy. Sunday morning, we woke up to rain. Pouring rain. We dragged ourselves out of the tent with just enough time to shower, brush our teeth and get our asses to chaple.

The whole place stank of moldy worshipers.

Afterward, breakfast. Blueberry pancakes and fruit salad. Who says you can’t eat wonderful food while camping? After dishes, we packed up and headed home. No use sticking around if you have to spend the whole time in your tent.

As I said, a nice, short minibreak. Just the way I like it.


About Angela

My name is Angela. I am a 28 year old psych and criminology graduate, but I'd rather not diagnose you. I am a cuddle-slut. I can recite the entire script of The Princess Bride, (including accents) and believe that the meaning of life is contained within. Polyanna, Snap.com commercials, and Oprah 'reunion shows' make me cry. I can whistle and hum at the same time, but I cannot touch my toes. I am an expert in both listening and talking. I look good in orange. I am a writer. I kick ass in Gin, Hearts, and Cribbage but I don't understand Canasta or Bridge. I can be heard singing Broadway numbers from my shower, and have dressed up as a viking princess, (complete with aluminum foil breast plate) The Phantom of the Opera, and a Ghostbuster for Hallowe'en. I have a bird named Bean. I have a brother named Adam. They are not related. I like vanilla body lotion, peanut butter, saunas, Jim Carrey, broccoli, pets, TheOnion.com, Muppets, Kevin Smith, Corelle dishes, dry erase white-boards, Barenaked Ladies, Philosophy, the letter J, Harry Potter, picture frames, swimming, quilting, Michael Moore, genealogy, Raggedy Anne, tacky 50's tchotchke, 'Idiot's Complete Guide To' books, tweezers, feather pillows, polar dips, aquariums, Martin Luther King Jr., and Dr. Pepper. I don't like meat, gossips, cooked carrots, American Idol, mosquitoes, sweating, politics, public washrooms, tardiness, tuition, hunting, pat answers, pick up lines, brown bananas, cliches, pine scented air freshener, Kevin Costner, bacon, candied apples, pro-wrestling, humidity, and hypocrisy. Books I've read recently The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, The Dark Tower, When Nietzsche Wept, What's So Amazing About Grace?, Catcher in the Rye, Not Wanted On the Voyage, The Red Tent, The Little Prince, The Way the Crow Flies, Slaughterhouse-Five, The Poisonwood Bible, The Fall, The Knot of Vipers, Calculating God, The Chrysalids, Sick Puppy, Nineteen Eighty-Four, Franny and Zooey, The Brothers Karamazov, and jPod. I am slightly neurotic. No I'm not. Yes I am.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s