Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Not even real.

This isn't even a real blog post because my brain is sleepy and I can't write anything entertaining.

So write something for me! What are YOU guys up to today?

I'll post tomorrow and check back then!

Monday, July 29, 2013


So this weekend I ventured into the world of Tiger Woods, Arnold Palmer, and that really cute Australian guy who won one of those tournaments on TV a few months ago and made me not hate having to watch golf all the time.

And obviously I’m a natural.

Of course, “naturals” whiff the ball a bunch, leave the third hole to go get beers, and kiss their opponent when he makes a great shot, right?

Ok good. Then yeah, I’m totally a natural!

You see, we were visiting friends down in South Jersey and I was the only one who’d never ventured out on the golf course as an adult. I mean, I’ve driven past golf courses and have always found the idea of getting a new outfit for a sporting event appealing, but I’ve really never had a desire to actually do any of it myself.

So what better activity for a sunny Saturday afternoon than making CB and my friends watch me perfect my golf stance and knock the ball into the water over and over?

Uh, is anyone else concerned that
my wrist is about to break off? Why
is it bent that way?
Um, golf is for-real tough, you guys. Have you done this? Was I the only one who was mocking golfers my whole life only to TOTALLY take it all back once I couldn’t even figure out how to hold the clubs right? 

Second of all, there is a lot of instruction. I mean, there was a point where CB was trying to give me pointers and I literally just started thinking about “Dirty Dancing” instead.

CB: “So keep your arms straight, your knees bent, your feet shoulder-width apart, your eye on the ball…”

And I just started singing “Hungry Eyes” in my head.

CB: “I don’t want to overload you with too much info, I know we’re just having fun.”
Me: “That’s ok, I kind of just stopped listening.”

However, the advice he and my friends gave me paid off a few times when I made a tough putt and hit a few balls about 150 feet or so onto the green, actually redeeming me in the eyes of the Golf Gods (and CB). Plus, for years people have been asking us why I don’t pick up the game so that CB and I could play together, and we would always look at each other and agree that it’s unnecessary to do everything together. But after this weekend, both of us admitted that it might be fun to get back out there together and hit the balls around.

Also, almost every phrase in golf is a euphemism for something dirty and I for sure could not play regularly AND remain a lady. So CB’s safe.

Happy Monday, everyone! 

Friday, July 26, 2013

Friday Wrapup!

It's not one billion degrees outside and my underpants haven't fallen down my legs yet - I consider this a win. Which means that it must be Friday!

Let's get to it.


Ok, so last weekend CB and I were able to enjoy a rare, relaxing Saturday night, complete with Chinese food and a movie. And after the movie, we started flipping around and happened upon a Comedy Central special featuring a comedian we'd never heard of before - Kumail Nanjiani. Apparently, this guy has been around for a few years and so you may have actually seen him perform. But we hadn't. And we were missing out.

We literally laughed so hard that I COULDN'T LAUGH ANYMORE. Like, my body just stopped having the ability to laugh because it was too tired and over-laughed. Meanwhile, CB was wiping tears from his eyes from laughter and we were like 'Who IS this guy and why aren't we his best friend?'

So, since it's Friday and everyone can use a good laugh, check out this clip below. It isn't from the special, but it's pretty darn funny (even if it's kinda bootleg.) Also, there's one or two bad words, so for those of you with super delicate ears, beware.


Thankfully, my dad is single-handily keeping the book blog afloat this summer, though I SWEAR I'm blogging about the Detroit book this weekend. Promise promise.So, REST OF FAMILY? You're on notice. Dad? Thank you.

Check out this week's book by clicking here to read all about the CIA. What? I know! We are a very eclectic bunch. Tori Spelling and the CIA - you gotta love the book blog.


Can we stop talking about the royal baby now? Thanks.


And now, the Video of the Week. (this is for you, CB!)

Happy Friday, everyone, have a great weekend!

Thursday, July 25, 2013

And then my underpants ALWAYS fall down.

Ok, so I don’t remember if I’ve ever told you guys about my ongoing issues with giant underpants. Have I?  Basically, it’s that I own and wear - accidentally - giant underpants that never fit my fanny.  Why? Because I was blessed with a behind that is simply an extension of my upper legs and in no way has shape or form.

Which, I must say, is a really unfortunate attribute in a post J-Lo world.

Anyway, I’ve had many a situation where I’ve found myself walking down the street while having to pull up my giant underpants as they make their way down my thighs. And one time I was getting patted down by an airport security person (like, I was at the airport, so it wasn’t inappropriate or anything) and I TOTALLY COULD TELL that she felt my underpants around my upper thighs and kept moving her hand up and down over it to figure out what the hell it was.

So obviously I immediately texted Courtney and was like “I think the airport security woman just realized that my underpants are not where they’re supposed to be.” And she was like “this is a perfectly normal conversation to be having with an adult.”

Also, I want to just cut to the chase where we experience the inevitable moment of you telling me that I’m just buying the wrong size underpants.

First of all, no I’m not.

Second of all, people in the underpants industry need to start making undergarments for people without any junk in the trunk. You can’t just assume there’s going to be a little something there. Some of us have tried for years – via chocolate cake and extra servings of pasta – to create the illusion of a bump, to no avail.

Some of us have even purchased the As Seen On TV Booty Bump, complete with the experience of your friends giving you the “good game” pat on your rear after a super funny joke or something and being like “why does your butt feel like pushy cotton?” And then you have to be like “What? That’s what butts feel like.” And they’re like “No, we have butts. That’s not what they feel like.” And then you hang your head in shame because FAIL.

Anyway, this happened, yet again, yesterday morning – and ALL DAY – while walking to work. I made the Number One Big Underpants Mistake and wore a dress. This is a no-no when your undergarments don’t fit because they will inevitably surpass the hemline of your dress, if you’re not careful, and then you’ll become THAT GIRL.

Also, I’m totally that girl.  
Tights might be a good option.

And I realize that if I bought smaller underpants, they’d likely stay around my waist because they’d be tighter. But then there’s the great debate of “What’s better? Underpants around your thighs or muffin top?”

A question for the ages.

Anyway, wearing accidentally giant underpants with a dress is super uncomfortable because you have to develop a finely honed skill of pulling your underpants up while simultaneously pulling your dress down so that you don’t moon half of Manhattan. And you also find yourself having these conversations with your better half.

CB: “So I saw that you were going to post something tomorrow about your underpants.”
Me: “Ugh, yes. They’re soooo big.”
CB: “You’re wearing the wrong underwear.”
Me: “It doesn’t happen to all of them, but enough to where I think that it’s the underwear, not me. I mean, they fall down ALL the time.”
CB: “But you’re the one buying the underwear, right?”
Me: “Right. But at least I have cute underwear.”
CB: “Kind of not the point.”
Me: “I think they’re either labeled wrong or my butt is even smaller than I thought it was. I mean, I can’t wear the Booty Bump every day.”
CB: “The what?”
Me: “The Booty Bump. It gives your booty a little bump.”
CB: “You know there are exercises you could do that would do that naturally so you don’t have to wear something called the Booty Bump?”
Me: “I’ve tried everything. If I do exercises it just makes my butt muscular and flat.”
CB: “But there are body builders and stuff who obviously can do it.”
Me: “So you want me to be a body builder so I can have a butt?”
CB: “No, you’re missing the point. I’m just saying that it’s possible to exercise and create that naturally by doing various exercises.”
Me: “I don’t want to do steroids.”
CB: “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
Me: “I’m just saying that sometimes my underpants fall down and sometimes it’s embarrassing and sometimes a girl wants the bump illusion. I’m living the dream.”
CB: “You know, you don’t have to tell me everything, right?”
Me: “But who else am I going to tell?”
CB: “Nobody.”
Me: “That’s not an option.”
CB: “I’m aware.”

So what do you guys think? Any suggestions?

Happy Thursday! 

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

An actual story about my come!

I don’t have a real post today because, once again, my job is trying to kill me. Also, I have a migraine. But hopefully tomorrow I can post about how my underpants almost fell down this morning while I was walking to work, which would’ve been unfortunate seeing as how I’m wearing a dress.

Always a class act.

Happy Wednesday, everyone! 

Monday, July 22, 2013

Conversations from Cohabitation

Last week we were standing on our balcony watching the sunset. The sky was a gorgeous pinkish purple and the sun was bright orange, far too bright to actually look at.

CB: “Why are you turning the other way?”
Me: “Because the sun is too bright, I can’t look directly at it.”
CB: “But it’s a sunset. You’re supposed to, you know, watch the sun actually setting.”
Me: “Right…but do people actually do that? Like, I can watch in the vicinity of the sunset, but I can’t actually watch the sun setting because then I will be blind.”
CB: “Really? It doesn’t bother me at all.”
Me: “Are you looking directly at it?”
CB: “Yeah, that’s what you do when you watch a sunset.”
Me: “But you’re not supposed to look directly at the sun! Didn’t you learn that in, like, first grade?”
CB: “I don’t think that applies to sunsets.”
Me: “Um, I think it applies to the SUN, so yeah, it applies to sunsets. Oh my God, stop looking directly at it! You’re going to burn your corneas!”
CB: “Wow, I’m glad I called you out here to look at the sunset with me. This is really relaxing and romantic.”
Me: “It’s eye safety! That’s no joking matter!”
CB: “I love you,  too.”


While watching CB squinting to read the text on the tv screen, this conversation happened:

Me: “You really should get your eyes checked.”
CB: “Why?”
Me: “Because you have bad eye site.”
CB: “No, I just don’t see as well as you.”
Me, staring at him.
CB: “Plus, I wasn’t squinting just then to see the tv, I was thinking.”
Me: “Ok.”


Me: “Maybe you don’t have good eye site because you can stare directly at the sun without looking away? I believe you may have burned your retinas.”
CB, laughing: “It’s possible.”
Me: “Or that you’re just blinded by my beauty on a daily basis.”
CB: “Yeah, that’s probably it.”


CB: “Sometimes I wish it would have been my hearing that would go and not my eye site…”
Me: “That makes sense.”


Groaning and holding my stomach after dinner.

Me: “Why don’t I have portion control when it comes to dinner?”
CB: “I do not know.”
Me: “Ooooooh…I’m so full.”
CB: “I actually didn’t think you ate very much tonight.”
Me: “I know, right? But my stomach is really bothering me. I’m sensitive.”
CB: “You are.”
Me: “I’m a delicate flower.”
CB: “Yep, with crazy petals.”


CB: “Do you want a Tums?”
Me: “Do we have Tums?”
CB: “I actually don’t think we do.”
Me: “Um…then no.”

While I’m still holding my stomach and looking sad, CB walks into the bathroom and comes out with a Pepcid tablet.

CB: “Here, take this.”
Me: “What’s that?”
CB: “Well, it says it’s for heartburn and acid indigestion. Do you have acid indigestion?”
Me: “I don’t know, do I? I don’t know what that feels like. Is that what this feels like?”
CB: “I don’t know, just take it.”
Me: “It won’t hurt me?”
CB: “Well, either it’ll help or it won’t, but if it doesn’t, what’s it going to do, make your stomach hurt?”
Me: “Good point.”

CB hands me the tablet.

CB: “It’ll taste a little chalky.”
Me: “Ew, I don’t want to eat something chalky!”
CB: “Well, it won’t taste good. It’s not candy.”
Me: “Ooooh, they should invent tablets that taste like candy!”
CB: “Well, it’s cherry flavored, so they tried.”

Five minutes later I’m lying on the couch reading and happened to glance over at the Pepcid bottle on the table.

Me: “Oh my God! The expiration date is from July 2011! It might kill me!”
CB, laughing: “No, it won’t kill you. It’ll just maybe not work.”
Me: “Did you know?”
CB: “Know what? That you’re crazy? Yes.”
Me: “No! That it was expired.”
CB: “No, but I’m sure that’s just a suggested sell date.”
Me: “Um, it says ‘EXPIRATION DATE.’ I’m pretty sure that means it expires.”
CB: “Well, does your stomach feel better?”
Me: “Actually yeah, a little.”
CB: “Then this conversation didn’t need to happen.”
Me: Story of your life.”

Happy Monday, everyone! 

Friday, July 19, 2013

Friday Wrapup

It's still one billion degrees outside but I'm currently not being baked by the outdoors and so I can properly appreciate that it's FRIDAY!

Let's get to it.


First, thanks for those of you who have started following the blog on Facebook. I just noticed that there are a whole bunch of you on there who I don't know in real life. Which might be weird, but instead, it's just awesome. Thanks! If you're interested, click here!


This is the best thing I've seen all week. It's Finally Ironic.


SOMEONE in my family is finally reading again! (and blogging about it). So if you're looking for some summer reading inspiration, click here for this week's book of the week, The Forest Unseen. And then browse around to check out any others that you may have missed!


And now, the Video of the Week. I've loved Sara Bareilles for years, so I'm always excited when she drops a new album (which is what hip people in the know say). I don't care if that "Lovesong" song just got out of your head, it's time for a new diddy. Plus, the video is pretty great and the message is, too! So...enjoy, and have a great weekend, everyone!!

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Things I Don't Understand When it's Hot Outside

In no particular order...

1. People who eat outside when it’s hot:
Yesterday I became disgusted with humanity as I walked down the street with anger on my face (and perhaps some perspiration) because the earth is trying to cook us all, you guys. It’s true. 

But, inexplicably, some people don’t seem bothered by it, and, dare I say, seem to embrace it. Which just bothers me more. So, I texted a few people to make sure that they are on my team and that I don't have to hate them, too.

Thank goodness I don't have to hate them in the summertime. Other friends? You're on notice. 

2. Looking stylish:
It's safe to say that I struggle with this even when my clothes aren't sticking to me. However, I find myself getting increasingly annoyed with Women of New York when I'm walking down the street with my hair in a frizz-bun and a polyester-blend dress from Forever 21 clinging to my thighs, while some woman in a strapless, effortless cotton dress and giant sun hat and sunglasses strolls by without a drop of sweat on her. She should be disallowed from roaming the streets alongside normal human beings who experience pain and perspiration.   

3. Working out: 
Ok, so I've been guilty of this several times, but that was a few years ago when I didn't belong to a gym and stupidly decided to sign up for a fall marathon. Hence, summer training. 

However, what I did not do was wear long pants. And this week I've seen, like, FIVE different people running outdoors in 100 degree temperatures with LONG PANTS ON. Come on, you guys! 

I came to the conclusion that they either (a) hated themselves and all of life or (b) were trying to make weight for some sort of wrestling competition later that day. 

Either way, though, I don't understand it and you actually make me feel hotter and a little nauseated when I see you doing that. So cut it out. 

4. People talking about how it could be hotter:
No, no it could not. Now shut it and quit tempting the heat gods! 

5. The subway stations: 
When you're praying that a train - ANY train - comes into the station just so you can get a blast of really hot, dirty air to break up the thick, sweltering air you're currently standing in, you know you've gone 'round the bend. However, what I fail to understand is why the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, along with the MTA, decided that they hate us. 

I get not putting air conditioning on the platforms - it's expensive, it's costly to install, and you don't want to encourage people to be down there longer than they need to be. Fine. 

However, maybe just put a fan down there? As previously stated, we are not adverse to hot, dirty air blowing on us. It gives us the illusion of being 3 degrees cooler and doesn't make us think that we'll be dying alone with our iPods underground from sweating to death.

Also, you can then do that thing that you can only do with fans where you make your voice sound all freaky by standing really close to propellers and saying random words into it.  

So it's a win/win for everyone. 

Happy Wednesday! Stay cool! 

Monday, July 15, 2013

And then I got some wedding advice.

So over the weekend I decided to use some much-needed downtime to peruse the interwebs looking at ideas for our wedding. I mean, just because we don’t have a guest list, wedding venue, or wedding date picked out doesn’t mean I can’t find adorable cocktail napkins on Pinterest that say “eat, drink, be married” and then make CB come in from the other room to look at how awesome they are.


Plus, we’re still sort of settling into this whole engaged thing, and so while everyone else is anxiously awaiting actual action on our part, we’re just trying to enjoy the first few days in our new apartment and seeing how shiny my ring can be when I hold it up against the window to make rainbows on the floor for the cat.

We are fully functioning adults.

However, while doing the above-mentioned perusing, I came across this gem that, I must admit, really made me reevaluate this whole marriage/wedding thing and see matrimony – and the wedding night - in a whole new light.

Advice for Young Brides  

The following is a reprint from The Madison Institute Newsletter, Fall Issue, 1894:

by  Ruth Smythers beloved wife of The Reverend L.D. Smythers Pastor of the Arcadian Methodist Church of the Eastern Regional Conference Published in the year of our Lord 1894 Spiritual Guidance Press New York City

To the sensitive young woman who has had the benefits of proper upbringing, the wedding day is, ironically, both the happiest and most terrifying day of her life. On the positive side, there is the wedding itself, in which the bride is the central attraction in a beautiful and inspiring ceremony, symbolizing her triumph in securing a male to provide for all her needs for the rest of her life. On the negative side, there is the wedding night, during which the bride must pay the piper, so to speak, by facing for the first time the terrible experience of sex.

First, let me say this: PREACH it, sister!

Second of all, I’m definitely a sensitive young woman, and I will embrace any article in which I’m described as such. I am a delicate flower of a lady. But since I’ve definitely had a proper upbringing, I’ve known all along that my one great triumph in life is to secure a man so that he can totally provide all of my needs for the rest of my life.

Also, I quickly jotted that down on a piece of paper to keep handy when writing our wedding vows. 

However, when I came across the negative side, I must admit that I’ve been reading all of the wrong articles my whole life. I mean, I’ve been told that this is one of the perks of tying the knot – and since I’m young and pure and sensitive, I know not of what I speak until sometime next year. However, I’m a little nervous to pay the piper! Is the piper CB? Will there be someone else in the room? And do I really have to pay someone? I could’ve sworn that was illegal!

Now I’m stressed out. Especially since it’s such a terrible experience! I may need to re-think this whole thing.

At this point, dear reader, let me concede one shocking truth. Some young women actually anticipate the wedding night ordeal with curiosity and pleasure! Beware such an attitude! A selfish and sensual husband can easily take advantage of such a bride. One cardinal rule of marriage should never be forgotten: GIVE LITTLE, GIVE SELDOM, AND ABOVE ALL, GIVE GRUDGINGLY. Otherwise what could have been a proper marriage could become an orgy of sexual lust.

Ooooooo-kaaaaaaaaaay. I was TOTALLY off base on this one. Thank God I read this article. Oprah has been telling me for years that the whole “give little, give seldom, give grudgingly” thing will totally work against me. And she’s even been telling me that I should be anticipating this night with curiosity and pleasure!

What a ho.

Also, how do I know if I have a selfish and sensual husband who might take advantage of me beforehand? Should I ask him? Should I warn him that I will be doing this against my own free will (totally legal) and not very often and without any smiling or happiness!?

We have so much to cover in our vows!

On the other hand, the bride's terror need not be extreme. While sex is at best revolting and at worse rather painful, it has to be endured, and has been by women since the beginning of time, and is compensated for by the monogamous home and by the children produced through it.

Wow, this woman really missed her calling in sales.

It is useless, in most cases, for the bride to prevail upon the groom to forego the sexual initiation. While the ideal husband would be one who would approach his bride only at her request and only for the purpose of begetting offspring, such nobility and unselfishness cannot be expected from the average man.

Ok, I’m supposed to love this guy, right? He’s not, like, making me do this?

However, I’m confused by the notion that I’d ever take it upon myself to initiate this with CB if it’s, at best, REVOLTING. I’d be like “hey, wanna just go adopt babies like Brad and Angie and then you’ll never have to put me through this and I can stay young and pure forever?” And he’d be all like “No, I’m an average man who isn’t noble or selfless and so now that you’re my lady property you must go make hate-babies with me.”

Most men, if not denied, would demand sex almost every day. The wise bride will permit a maximum of two brief sexual experiences weekly during the first months of marriage. As time goes by she should make every effort to reduce this frequency.

I’m not gonna lie; my husband sounds like kind of a dick. However, I like the idea of negotiating these terms up front.

Me:  “Ok, so this is going to be revolting to me, at BEST, and so I’m only going to allow you to make my life hell twice a week in the beginning. That’s how much I love you. But once a baby or two comes out of that hell, I’m shutting down shop.” 
CB: “But I’m a man who has needs and will want this almost every day, even when I’m tired and busy from having kids and a horribly frigid wife.” 
Me: “Sorry, no dice. I’m only in this for the babies and the fact that you’re providing for all of my needs for the rest of my life without me having to do anything but cook, clean, and look the other way when you cheat and drink too much.” 
CB, thinking for a minute: “Ok, deal.”

Feigned illness, sleepiness, and headaches are among the wife's best friends in this matter. Arguments, nagging, scolding, and bickering also prove very effective, if used in the late evening about an hour before the husband would normally commence his seduction.

I knew that arguments, nagging, scolding, and bickering were the key to a successful marriage!This is what I’ve been trying to tell CB for years! However, what if he doesn’t commence his seduction late at night? I mean, if he’s smart, he knows that that’ll never fly as I go to bed by the time “Jeopardy” is wrapping up. I’m guessing that this just means that I should be sickly, sleepy, headache-y AND nag-y basically 24/7, right?

Should that go in the vows, too? Better safe than sorry.

A wise bride will make it the goal never to allow her husband to see her unclothed body, and never allow him to display his unclothed body to her. Sex, when it cannot be prevented, should be practiced only in total darkness. Many women have found it useful to have thick cotton nightgowns for themselves and pajamas for their husbands. These should be donned in separate rooms. They need not be removed during the sex act. Thus, a minimum of flesh is exposed.

I find this both practical and helpful to all parties involved. Let’s get real – once I’m no longer a delicate flower of a woman and I’ve eaten the leftover wedding cake, he would probably be grateful if I just disrobed elsewhere and shut off the lights.

This chick really knows her stuff!

One heartening factor for which the wife can be grateful is the fact that the husband's home, school, church, and social environment have been working together all through his life to instill in him a deep sense of guilt in regards to his sexual feelings, so that he comes to the marriage couch apologetically and filled with shame, already half cowed and subdued. The wise wife seizes upon this advantage and relentlessly pursues her goal first to limit, later to annihilate completely her husband's desire for sexual expression.

Boy, she really gets me! I am heartened by the fact that society is trying to beat all joy from my soon-to-be husband. That will DEFINITELY spell a lifetime of happiness for us both!

Also, I think we should register for a marriage couch for sure. I mean, probably from Macy’s or someplace where they make sturdy furniture because if we got an IKEA couch I’m pretty sure it couldn’t handle the pressure when I started annihilating his happiness and desire-filled expectations. This thing’s gotta hold up under pressure! Just like the hubby.

I can’t wait to plan this wedding now. 

Happy Monday, everyone! 

Friday, July 12, 2013

Friday Wrapup!

Let's get to it!


Ok, so I have something very serious to talk with you all about. This has been coming up all week and multiple people have emailed and commented about this, so I think it's time that I quit burying my head in the sand and address it.

Do we change CB's name to CF?

I know, right? My life is hard.

I get where you're all coming from, since the B is now an F and, if I don't drive him to dive from our balcony before the wedding, will eventually become an H. But I'm so used to calling him CB that sometimes it happens in real life. And also, I hate change.

However you, the readers, are the ultimate deciders. So you tell me - CB or CF?


Wedding planning gives me pimples, I've decided. Or, I've been eating too much fudge. But I'm blaming wedding planning, though I haven't so much been actually planning, as I have been wedding pinning, because essentially all I've done thus far is pin a bunch of stuff to Pinterest of what I like. I mean, it's been a week and a half, give me a minute.

But I decided to make an appointment to try on wedding dresses in August, so stay tuned for an inevitable story about how I ended up crying publicly when nothing fit and "I'll just wear a potato sack and call it a day!" comes out of my mouth.

Good times!


Um, perhaps my family is taking a break from reading this summer? Or we're all just to busy/lazy/forgetful to blog about it. Either way, though, check out the book blog here for some summer reading inspiration. Or, just come on over to our apartment and check out the variety I have to offer.

CB: "When I was looking for a book to bring to the sleep study, I couldn't decide between the Tori Spelling book, the Betty White book, or Little Women."
Me: "I know, right? They're all such classics!"

He loves living with me.


And now, the Video of the Week. This, my friends, is in honor of CB/F/H. After a glorious week in Michigan and a stressful week of moving and unpacking, this song couldn't ring more true.

I think I'll keep him.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

The Week in Pictures

Even though we were busy getting all engaged and stuff, CB and I spent one glorious week visiting my parents in Northern Michigan and actually did things other than use port-o-potties and do some proposing!

So, without any further adieu, I will share with you our week in pictures. Enjoy.

CB was in his element, skipping stones on Lake Michigan
and not being at all nervous that he was about to propose
to his most favorite person later that day. 

I was also in my element trying to convince CB to"just do it"
and climb the 450 ft dune at Pierce Stocking Drive. He was
totally on board once I told him that the first time I did it (admittedly
severely out of shape, dehydrated, and 14 years old), I threw up 7 times.
He was completely psyched. 

But he totally did it! Though this picture is deceiving. While it
looks like I'm ahead of him (truth) and my dad is jogging along side him (also truth),
he did the entire dune in record time and my dad and I just did half.
Also, we were hazing him because he was about to become part of the family
and that's how we roll. 

This actually happens. And it's awesome.
CB said he felt like he was in the movie
"Doc Hollywood."

This looks like a very serene view of the gorgeous
bay, yes? Right. Well, this was taken after CB and I decided
to go on a two hour kayaking excursion where the Coast Guard
circled above us twice, we literally went in a circle, and our kayak
was so filled with water upon our return that the guy running the place
said it was the most water he'd ever seen in all his years doing it.
We were proud. 

Also, perhaps we've nailed down the problem,
since this was my idea of kayaking. Poor CB.

My parents being all cute on their way to the 4th of July parade.
41 years, baby! 

Please, CB, he needs no encouragement.

Apparently, CB doesn't need any encouragement, either!
He totally walked in the 4th of July parade, held a banner AND a sign AND wore
a Leelanau Conservancy hat that my dad gave him. It's like he's one of us.
Welcome to the family! 

The most adorable man. And Grand Marshall for, like, 40 years.

And just for good measure, even though I posted this earlier in the week,
the scene of all of the love and proposing and squeals. 

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Monday, July 8, 2013

"Will You Marry Me?" Check 'yes' (not 'no').

So, while you guys were frantically clicking on the blog each day to see which archives I’d post, I was frantically not remembering that I was a blogger at ALL last week because I was too busy being all engaged to marry CB.


Ohmygod I know you guys, I’ll tell you everything.

Once upon a time, there was a boy named CB who met a girl named Becky. It was a weird name for a boy and his parents obviously wanted him to get teased a lot, so really, he’s very fortunate to have met a girl at all. Less fortunate once it turned out that the girl was me, but let’s just move on.

Anyway, while CB was all busy being in his 20s and carefree, this girl Becky was all busy sitting next to him at work, making him give her his extra French fries and pickles from lunch each day, and generally making his every waking working moment a joy.


Fast forward seven years, two marathons, and one or two grey hairs later, and those two crazy kids found themselves all in love and oooggly-gooogly eyed. More CB than Becky because he’s always been the weird one (which will be confirmed by no one who has met us both and so just don’t ask anyone and take my word for it). And so one day back in the Spring, CB decided that it was time to take the plunge and call Becky’s dad, harkening back to the good old days when women were property and her father needed cattle in exchange for his daughter. Or something. But basically, CB was being very gentlemanly and distinguished and adorable, and so obviously my dad said yes, please take her, and it was ON.

Also, CB told everyone else in the universe except Becky and so people can keep secrets, yo. No joke. It’s a little disturbing how good you people are at not telling me I’m about to get engaged.

Anyway, in true CB, thoughtful, oooggly-gooogly fashion, he wanted to make the moment special and decided to propose while visiting Becky’s parents in Michigan so they could be there for the champagne. Oh, and for the loving moment we shared. But mainly for the champagne.

So last Sunday, June 30th, on a gorgeous Northern Michigan night, CB and Becky made their way to Pyramid Point, one of Becky’s most favorite places. However, since she didn’t know that they were about to be all romantical, she needed to heed the call of nature and use the port-o-potty at the beginning of the trail, giving CB ample time to (a) reconsider and (b) shove the ring into his coat pocket that he was inexplicably carrying on a warm summer night so Becky wouldn’t see a big ole’ ring box sticking out of his shorts.

Anyway, as Becky, CB, and her parents made their way up the trail towards the point, her parents kept stopping to “catch their breath.” Unbeknownst to Becky, this was all planned so that she’d go ahead and be couple-y. But since they’d raised such a thoughtful and caring daughter, Becky was all like “No problem, we’ll wait with you.”

Meanwhile, as the ring burned a hole in CB’s pocket, he was all like “No problem, we’ll go ahead without you.”

Um, you can’t ditch my parents on a hiking trail in the woods, ya’ big jerk.

However, after much prodding and constant reassurance from the parents, CB and Becky made their way up to the overlook. But since nothing in an engagement story ever goes smoothly, instead of walking up to the point and looking out over the water, they found themselves upon another couple eating pizza and trying to have a moment of their own.

Also, I’m not one to catch on quickly, so I started walking over to the point anyway.

CB: “What are you doing?”
Me: “Checking out the view!”
CB: “But we can’t interrupt their romantic moment!”
Me, clueless: “Oh………then should we just stand here until they’re done?”
CB: “Uh, I think that would make the romantic moment even less romantic.”

So, Becky scanned the landscape and saw a short path leading up to an even higher point on the overlook, pointed to it, and suggested they check it out so CB could stop being a big weirdo.

And that’s when her husband-to-be decided he’d be an even bigger weirdo and shoulder-checked her as he darted ahead to get to the top first.

In his defense, he knew he was proposing and so he wanted to scope out the area and find the right place to pop the question. However, Becky started shouting up to him about how he might want to reconsider speeding away and shoving her aside because, if she fell down that cliff, “you’re totally going to have to come down and get me!”

"Will you marry
me 30 years
in the future?"
But since she still hadn’t a clue about what was about to happen, she huffed, puffed, and thought bad things about that guy she brought all the way to Michigan just to end up alone on a cliff with a sore shoulder, grumble, grumble, grumble….

And then she turned the corner, saw CB bend to one knee, say some very sweet things that are totally none of your business, you guys, and then Becky’s mom could hear her say all lady-like and quietly from 50 yards away “Are you serious????”

To which he assured her that, indeed, he was and opened the ring box the wrong way so that it looked like he was just checking out the goods and Becky was all like “what’s in the box?”

Sidebar: CB hates when I tell people this part, you guys, but I find it both hilarious and charming and so I had to tell you.

"Totally! Oh my God!"
And then Becky dropped to her knees – literally – so that she was eye to eye with him (and also so that we could do that kissing thing that ooogly-gooogly people do sometimes BUT ONLY ONCE THEY’RE ENGAGED, KIDS) and said “Oh my God” about 76 times before CB finally was like “No seriously, you haven’t said yes yet. Is that a yes?”

And then Becky said yes through happy tears (and not shoulder-pain tears, like before) before jumping up and down and squealing and running over to hug her parents and take pictures that her mom was totally mad that she posted on Facebook because she thinks she looks bad in every photo ever taken.

Also, according to CB, the first lucid thing (after yes) that Becky said after being newly engaged was “Oh thank God I used that hand sanitizer after the port-o-potty down there or I’d be nervous to have this ring on!”

Aaaaaaand romantic moment over.

But they lived happily ever after anyway.

Happy Monday, everyone!

(Stay tuned later this week for more Michigan stories AND so that I can tell you about how CB and I are officially living in engaged sin now in our new apartment! Lots to share.)