And She's Back

Wow, it was July...and now it's October...

Where is my time going?

Killing zombies again? Me? No, I haven't killed zombies in a week...well, maybe a little on Friday but only Friday...oh, and for a short time on Saturday. I only killed a few zombies on Saturday.

Mind you, I did go to that wedding ceremony awhile back. I have to admit that my schedule was a tad crazy in September for that thing. And my poor Sweetie actually married me...I don't know WHAT he was thinking (I know I wouldn't have married me if I were him). Oh well, live and learn I guess.

Anyway, my Sweetie and I are now hitched. I know that I am hitched because I have tons of tiny little bars of soap in my cupboard as evidence.


Yep.


Little soaps.

And thank you Mr. Golden Nugget for all of them. A girl can't help but know that she's truly married until she gazes into her cupboard and sees THAT many miniature soaps staring back at her. Of course this means that I will need to buy soap next month but for now, my supply is good.

Tons of soap isn't the only evidence of my marriage. For example, I have new home address I can never remember and I have a strange man who wanders around the house clad only in sweaty-pants. I also received my copy of the super secret guide book that is standard issue for all married couples in the world. Of course, I am referring to the Everything You Need to Know About Him, the Dog, You, Cooking with Small and Disgruntled Appliances, How to Organize the Perfect House, Gardening for Idiots and Light Household Repairs that Make Sense and Actually Work.

I hope to receive my copy of Nefarious Smells and Their Meaning soon. It should be an invigorating read.

Oh! And I have a ring. I did receive a wedding band from the ceremony (though for a short time in Las Vegas, I wasn't sure if I was going to receive my wedding band because my Sweetie began to request things including a sparkly tiara and a full bouquet of flowers). I was able to wrestle my nosegay out of his hands briefly to walk down the aisle with my father but it disappeared soon after. I swear I heard someone singing "I Feel Pretty" from the West Side Story. It's a great song but it isn't meant for a tenor voice. I'm not saying that the singing sounded bad, I'm just saying that the voice sounded strained for the "See the pretty girl in that mirror there..." section of the song.

So anyway, I'm back...I think...at least I'm pretty sure I'm somewhere and I hope all of you had a wonderful summer.

Parawhat?

Television is great; commercials are great. They teach you about the world and about people sitting next to you on the couch.

For example, my Sweetie and I were watching an ITT Technical Institute commercial about different educational programs they provide. He sat transfixed as the background music accompanied the sprightly yet official sounding voice over.

“We have a paralegal program.” The ethereal voice chimed. “Our paralegal program is goooood. You will love, love, looooooove our paralegal program. Paralegaaaaaaaaaal.”

I think that’s how the commercial went.

Anyway, while the commercial pixie droned on and on about “paralegal, paralegaaaaaaal…” my Sweetie turned to me and stated that he wasn’t too sure about studying for the paralegal program but he was pretty sure he wanted to study for the paraboob program.

Knowing the fickleness of some of these academic programs, I had to ask if he had a backup plan should he not qualify for the paraboob studies. He thought about this for a moment and after scratching his…um…private…uh, uniquely male tender bits stated that, “should I not be accepted into the paraboob program, I will apply for the paraofnuts program.”

This made perfect sense (always helps to have a backup plan in the realm of academia).

I am comfortable with all of this as long as he doesn’t go gallivanting across the country to become au pair for a pair of nuts.

Stupid pair of dangling nuts, I’m going to have to put my foot down on that…or up and then down…or something…

Of course at the conclusion of this discussion, I had to bow my head in respect for the angel who lost his or her wings. Sweetie, you really should be more careful of your…uh, “actions.”

Correction III

You know I really thought I got this right one but to no avail…(sigh)…I mean, for Pete’s sake, I was a music major, I really thought I aced this one. Now I don’t know what to think so I’m going to lay out all of the options.

On May 2nd, I described how my Sweetie, after we paint the town red, changes into a pair of sweat pants and then shuffles about in his house while singing his favor sweat pants theme song. Like a wire brush applied to the snare drum in a jazz trio, his baggy pants gently swish about his legs as he sings his vibrantly little tune.

My Sweetie was quite upset with my writing. It turns out that the lyrics I used to represent his favorite little song were utterly and incomprehensibly wrong.

How could I be so careless? How could I do such a thing? I’ve described my Sweetie at the height of bliss scurrying about his living room in a pair of black baggy pants with stripes down the side and I recklessly threw the wrong words in his mouth.

I used “Swea-ty paaants, swea-ty paaants.” He claims that it should be “Sweat-ty paaants. Sweat-ty paaants.”

I’m not sure what I should use so here are a few more options:


“SweaTy paaants, sweaty paaants.”

"Sweat-tee paaants, sweat-tee paaants.”

“Sweat-Tee paaants, sweat-Tee paaants.”

And there is also, “Swe-Tee paaants, swe-Tee pants.”


One reason I am slightly confused by the pronunciation is that it changes depending on the number of drinks we have consumed during the evenings activities. My ears must be getting a bit sloshed.

Similar Stories:
Correction, Correction II

How does he do that?

I realized last week that I’ve dated my Sweetie for five consecutive years.

Needless to say, I am rather impressed with the relationship. We’ve learned a lot about each other and we seem to get along well.

Of course being together for five years doesn’t mean that we understand each other perfectly. For example, he seems quite puzzled as to why I always wear sandals. To me, sandals are very comfortable like a pair of slippers. They are easy to slip on and off and help keep my feet aired out (which really helps keep the musty smell to a minimum).

I am equally puzzled by how he is able to move so incredibly fast (it’s like time is standing still or something). The magic starts the moment we enter the house. We step into the house, turn on the lights and greet the dog. At this point, I discover I am parched and head to the kitchen for a drink of water. In the time it takes me to grab the glass, fill it with water and begin to drink, my Sweetie has cast aside his pants, slid into a pair of sweat pants, tinkled and is now shuffling about the house either playing with the dog or deciding which DVD he would like to watch.

Bear in mind, we just got home from the movie theater.

I also haven’t finished drinking my glass of water.

On occasion, he shuffles about the house while chirping a little song. “Swea-tee paaants, swea-tee paaants…”

How does he do it? Is this a guy thing? Is time really standing still or is the water pressure in his house just incredibly low?

And finally, do people watch DVDs after coming home from the movie theater?

Yes, I find all of this very puzzling but ultimately I am more intrigued by how he accomplishes all these things in such a little amount of time.

At least I was able to figure out why he leaves his socks on when he comes home. At first, I thought leaving his socks on when he changed his clothes helped save him time but I now realize that he just likes to fling his socks across the room while he is watching the DVD.

Similar Stories:
A Moment Please, Saturday's Song, The Infestation,  Slow to Respond

Prenup

I was going to talk about my birthday in this blog entry but something of great importance came up.

I will be marrying my Sweetie in September and I am slowly preparing for my wedding day. One of the big items on my “to do” list, aside from shopping for white Tevas to match my wedding dress, is compiling information for the prenup. To prepare for this document, I am taking stock on all of my assets – and if college papers, grocery receipts and blue jeans are assets then I am indeed swimming in “A-town.”

I do see the importance and advantage of having a prenup. It is a necessary agreement that would serve to protect all of my assets should something go wrong in the marriage. While I do not anticipate anything bad from happening, if it does, my yellow and faded Safeway receipts from 2002 will remain safely in my care.

So as usual a lot is swirling around in my brain regarding my big day and all the wondrous things that happens to a girl when she moves into a house that has a sock infestation. And then there was tonight’s conversation with my Sweetie.

It started out innocently enough with me asking what he would add to the prenup and then it quickly spiraled out of control. Unfortunately, I misunderstood a comment and quickly blurted out that he and his dog do not get to keep my parents should we go our separate ways…and this was my fatal mistake… He…he really liked the idea…sigh…

Look…they’re not bad parents; a little worn in some places but they run pretty smooth and they have low maintenance costs. But they’re my parents! I can’t lose my parents in a divorce…is that even possible?!

Obviously I can’t take any chances and I will have to add them to my list of assets. I should have plenty of room to add them to my list of assets…just below the soap collection and Scrunchies.

I'm pretty sure I have one of these sets hiding in my dresser:



Awe yes, who doesn't have a Scrunchie? Sweetie? Do you have one?





Kind of Similar Stories:
The Infestation, A Moment Please

A Moment Please

I think I have an answer to my Sweetie’s question. He posed this question after a brief but lively discussion last night.

Me: I contacted that wedding chapel in Vegas to see if they had any openings on the 18th.

Sweetie: Oh yeah? What’d they say?

Me: They do have some openings in the afternoon. I figured an afternoon ceremony would be best. What do you think?

Sweetie: I think so, hey, did you talk to them today at work about all of this?

Me: This?

Sweetie: Yeah, taking time off for the wedding.

Me: Work? Today? Um…I didn’t go to work today. I work this Saturday so I had today of-

Sweetie: (giggle) oh, that’s right. What will you do with me?

And so Sweetie, to answer your question of what I will do with you; I guess I shall have to love you until I am no more.

Saturday's Song

I heard this song a lot on Saturday:

"Animal crackers in my poop. Monkeys and rabbits loop the loop..."

Now I must admit that I am not much of a music expert but I am rather suspicious that my Sweetie was not singing this song correctly. Ah well, at least it was a catchy tune!

The Mylar Balloon

I should say that I did select a Mylar Balloon for my Sweetie; unfortunately things have been so busy that I have not had the opportunity to write about.

I knew the task would be difficult, fraught with morbidly deformed, gas-filled, over-priced blobs that are impossible to transport without puncturing. In my previous blog posting, I only mentioned a few of the morbidly deformed figures including Dora the Explorer and a Labrador puppy… Dora proved to be a rather swollen character that might be experiencing an allergic reaction to the helium inside her. I’m not sure if she was suffering from hives or retaining water but she barely resembled her online photo.

She could have posted an honest photo of herself but instead I had to show up in the store to discover her puffy and lethargic nature instead of a lean mean exploring machine.

As I suspected, the puppy balloon was too adorable for me to purchase. I truly believe that my Sweetie would have become mesmerized by it. He is already transfixed by football and with the new season around the corner, the strain, I fear, would be too much for him to bear…or too much for me to bear…and I might go crazy…more than I already am…

I pushed onto the other balloons.

The Disney Princess Castle? As far as I know my Sweetie is not taking estrogen to become a female so he might not like this one. It is a very nice shade of pink though.

Hello Kitty? She seems to be suffering from the same affliction that Dora is suffering. Perhaps some of these balloons caught a virus and are being quarantined in the store.

Sponge Bob Square Pants? Dear Lord, that is terrifying…I…I…will I turn to stone if I look directly into its eyes?!

Hmmm…American flag, communion and Tiki Idol balloons do not capture the spirit of the moment…what about the congratulatory balloons?

Ah, here we go. And this one is such a lovely color blue, I wonder what it says? “Congratulations! It’s a Boy!”

Um…no…

So, after much consideration, I chose a simple balloon to express all my thoughts and feelings (okay, almost all of them – I had to write on the balloon “with all my heart, soul and gas” below the “I love you” part).






This balloon was HUGE and needed a weight, but what? And then I spotted Darth Vader across the room. He was no ordinary Darth but one that could be filled with lots of lovely chocolates and wonderful drinks. Yes! A Darth pinata! My Sweetie loves yummy chocolate, tasty drinks AND Darth Vader! How can I not buy Darth? So off I went with my newly purchased treasures, hoping that everything would please my Sweetie.


The balloon was a hit. It was the right balloon for the right occasion and Darth Vader’s head proved very popular that evening (and full of yummy chocolates).

And he said “yes.”

Quote

I heard someone utter these words a few nights ago and thought I should pass it along:

“Every time I scratch my nuts an angel loses his wings.
There’s the right one…aaaaaaand the left one.”

Ah yes, a classic Christmas tale that represents a renewed sense of hope as well as a new found appreciation for life. You can almost feel the snow landing softly on your nose in the crisp winter air...well, except in this version...

In this version, the minute a bell rings, some squeaky voiced little boy proclaims that he is scratching his nuts.

Uh yeah…nice kid…why don’t you stand over there…

As it turns out, his scratching slowly leads to the destruction of heaven one angel at a time.

Definitely a new twist on an old classic.

Symbol of Love

I believe an engagement ring traditionally symbolizes a betrothal gift and that it is given to a prospective spouse. I also believe that this gift represents a formal agreement of future marriage.

But times, they are a changing and Conventional Wisdom asks, “What can be used to symbolize a formal agreement of future marriage?” Thank heavens my Sweetie was there to answer this question because I didn’t have a clue!

And what can be used to symbolize love and future marriage? The answer was so obvious that I failed to recognize it. My Sweetie was there to help me in my time of need. Why yes! A Mylar balloon, of course! In fact, the first thing he said to me when he arrived home last night was “Where’s my Mylar balloon?”

A Mylar balloon? It was such an obvious symbol of love but, I overlooked it. At this point, I fear his betrothal is incomplete; absent of symbolism and gas. This needs to be resolved quickly by buying the most appropriate balloon, but which one? A quick online search revealed the degree of difficulty that lie ahead. Here is a small sample of balloons that I must to choose from:



Marriage can certainly mean the start of a new chapter in life as well as an opportunity for one to experience “adventures new” but I don’t think Dora the Explorer would be a readily accepted symbol of this new adventure since my Sweetie is well above the age of ten. I must admit that I do appreciate her enthusiastic smile and open arms.


My Sweetie would definitely enjoy this balloon but I believe he would become severely distracted by its high degree of “cuteness.” This is a considerable obstacle indeed because he might fall into a deep and everlasting trance. He might hold the balloon or take it on a motorcycle ride. I can play second banana to a dog but not a balloon. I fear I would become extremely jealous and develop an unhealthy obsession to suck out all of its helium.


My Sweetie definitely enjoys Star Wars but I’m not sure Darth Vader accurately represents my undying love. At 37 inches, this balloon has a formidable presence as well as the ability to inspire one to tell Luke that you - are - his - father. While the evil character is fun, I do not want my Sweetie to draw comparisons between me and Darth. I also do not want to be poked by a lightsaber or cause a Jar Jar Binks infestation.


This is a difficult task but one that I must tackle head-on if I wish to proceed with this union. I can only hope a muse will inspire my selection…or the clerk at Party City.

If the Ring Fits

A couple of weeks ago, I’m pretty sure I asked my Sweetie to marry me. I’m pretty sure. I’m almost positive that I’m pretty sure but I am slightly confused as to what happened – the fact that I was present for this “proposal” should mean that I have a good idea regarding the events surrounding this situation. But, as usual, it was a bit unusual. I would not describe this as a “tradition proposal” but rather an odd circumstance with a vague but hopeful outcome.

Background information: I did not plan anything elaborate. I did not take him to a romantic dinner nor did I order expensive wine (which is a bit of a shame because I do like wine. I especially like nice wine which is often more expensive.). I did not whisper sweet nothings into his ear accompanied by chocolate truffles covered with gold leaf. I didn’t even give him a Mylar balloon* to express my undying (and non-biodegradable) love.

*Special note on Mylar balloons: As you may know, you can express a wide variety of emotions or commemorate any occasion with a Mylar balloon. You can express joy or despair and you can also commemorate a baby’s birth or the death of a loved one. Mylar balloons are incredibly versatile. What better way to express your inner thoughts of love than through a shiny plastic pillow-shaped heart filled with gas?

The Event: I asked him to try on a $30 ring I ordered from Amazon.com to see if it would fit. He put the ring on his wedding ring finger and said, “Yeah, this one fits.”

The Outcome: I’m pretty sure I asked my Sweetie to marry me and, God help him, I’m pretty sure he said “yes.”

Correction II

The blog entry on July 13th used the wrong mispronounced word. The word used in the blog entry was “sandmich.” This word, while used correctly in the sentence as an incorrect pronunciation of the word sandwich, was the incorrect mispronunciation to use for publication. The CORRECT incorrect pronunciation should have been “sanmich.”

The Babbling Banshee regrets any confusion this may have caused.

Revelation

I recently discovered, much to my chagrin, that my engagement is contingent upon a “sandmich”…which is sandwich pronounced incorrectly…

Specifically I need a torpedo pesto turkey with a side of chips and a diet soft drink in order for my fellow to commit to marriage. The revelation occurred on Sunday afternoon when my hungry honey stated that he needed this food immediately and would not be swayed by a substitute. Negotiations ensued but we soon reached an impasse when he discovered that the “sandmich” was not present during the discussion. He then began to whimper on the couch due to the “sandmich’s” absence…or perhaps he was simply overwhelmed by his love for me…

In any case, I know what we will be eating for dinner tomorrow.

Slow to Respond

Sometimes it takes me a while to reply to a question. A longtime ago, you asked me how I put up with you. To be frank my love, I don’t put up with anything.

For you see, my sweetie, stud muffin and sweet cheeks, it’s love.

An Honest Question

My Sweetie finally started the process of refinancing his mortgage. To qualify, he had to have his house appraised. On Monday, after he got home from work, he met up with his appraiser so that she could begin the process of evaluating his home. After the appraisal, I received a call:

Hi it’s me. I was just evaluated.

Hi you. You were evaluated huh? How did you do?

Er – I mean, I was appraised!

Oh…? So…how much are you worth?

I find that asking my Sweetie about

his life and activities helps demonstrate that I

am interested in him and care deeply about him.

That and I need cash for a trip to Vegas.

Correction

I recently made a dreadful mistake that I need to rectify with my reading audience.

Well, I say dreadful mistake, but really…

The dreadful mistake I am referring is a blog entry I posted on May 14th. Of course, this blog serves no purpose other than to expunge personal annoyances, legitimize my large and expensive art supply collection and blab about things (that I find amusing) to anyone with half an eye who wanders onto this site. This blog is not a personal journal. I do not present hip new fashion trends in this blog nor do I offer any solid commentary on political activity…unless you count the Vagina Voters entry posted in 2008. In other words, most of my blog entries are filled with mistakes or are a bit…um…skewed. Well, not so much skewed as they are...uh…embellished? I have a habit of mixing things up and putting a nice literary spin on my entries. At least that is my personal belief…or imagining…

I judge my entries more by the color of their language and not by the content of their character.


And when I was referring to my reading audience, what I really meant to say was…

I have about four or five friends that actually read this blog…after I pester them…so even though I made this mistake I feel that there was little personal or professional damage done.

The personal and professional damage I am referring to is my Sweetie’s. He has bonafide credentials that might make a technically savvy person cry. I’m not a technically savvy person nor do I have many personal or professional credentials. Nevertheless, I need to correct my May 14th entry so that he does not suffer (too much) at the hands of my creative liberties.

On May 14th, I stated that my Sweetie was “doing stuff with things again.” I should have said that my Sweetie was doing things with stuff again. I apologize for any confusion I may have caused.

Doing Stuff with Things Again

My Sweetie last night was very busy working on his computer.

He was very excited too - to my understanding, the training he received in Las Vegas came in very handy. I will do my best to describe the work he was doing on his computer. He created a web page containing four graphs and each graphs can be fed with live information. These graphs will help his co-workers more easily monitor various company outputs.

It's a vague description but true.

He also mentioned this programming combined Microsoft Expressions and Silverlight.

Hmmm...silverlight...silverlight...is that a new car color coming out later this year? I wouldn't mind a new Corolla in silverlight. Despite the toxicity, I love that new car smell.

My Sweetie. Doing stuff with things again. :)

All Problems have Something

Usually problems have solutions. Barring this, they have something. Sometimes the somethings make sense and sometimes they do not...

I don’t mean to say that they are illogical but rather the solutions seem slightly askew.

Take for example the biometric readers that were installed in the sterile environment. Money was spent, time was invested and the units were installed in a sterile environment at my Sweetie’s old workplace.

If the workers took off their gloves, they would contaminate their work environment but if they didn’t, they wouldn’t be able to logon to the lab computer.

Now at some companies, this would be a problem but not at my Sweetie’s company.

My Sweetie was on the job and he was ready to save the day.

What I didn’t realize at the beginning of this story is that some of these units could be programmed to read a nose print…so my Sweetie helped the lab workers program the biometric unit to read their nose prints.

Sterile environment retained and employees could access their computers. Case closed! Problem solved! Hence forth, the fingerprint readers shall be known as nose print readers.

Not so Smooth

So things are busy with allergies, leaky roofs, tax season, baking…

Over the last few weeks at work, they installed biometric fingerprint readers at all of the computer stations. And the experience went rather smoothly. A pleasant surprise!

Of course, a smooth installation in one office does not translate into a smooth installation for another office.

Take my Sweetie’s old workplace.

They went out, bought a bunch of finger print scanners and installed them around his office. Now personally, I would assume that his old workplace formed a committee, identified a clear course of action, anticipated employee needs, scheduled installation, coordinated with training to inform staff…you know…normal project stuff. This is a big project and he use to work at a rather big company.

No surprises just good old normal projecty things. Common sense things

Imagine his surprise when he received a call from the lab regarding a little snag in the project.

Lab, “We’re having trouble with the fingerprint scanner.”

My Sweetie, “What kind of trouble are you having? All of those units should be tested and working.”

Lab, “Well, we’re in a sterile environment. How do we use the finger print scanner? We’re all wearing gloves.”

A "not so smooth" experience.

Just Gotta Say

I did not make him eat fruit the other night.

He ate all of it under his own volition.

Honest! Pinkie swear and everything!