Molly On Weiner

Weiner resigning is such a bummer. One because I find the irony of his name, and this situation, so fantastically hilarious. But mainly because I don't think a little cell phone nudity warrants this type of outrage.

A divorce, maybe. If I was his wife, I would leave him.

Let he or she who has never taken a naked cell phone picture cast the first stone.

I sympathize with Weiner because one drunken evening a couple of years ago I accidentally uploaded a topless picture to facebook. It could happen to anyone. Cell phones are confusing, people.

I guess I just don't think it's that big of a deal. I think the people yelling at him during his resignation are complete douche bags. If you think sending a hot (of age) chick a picture of your junk makes you a "sick pervert" I invite you to happily live silently the rest of your life. You don't deserve to speak.

The guy who yelled "The people demand to know! Are you more than 7 inches?!" cracked me up however. If you gotta yell, I'm glad that's what you picked. The lunatics yelling "you sick pervert" at him thought they should yell and make it clear "that guy's not with us! kick him out!". Hahaha. No, dude. He's with you. On the crazy bus.

Barbara Walters has seen the uncensored picture of his ... manhood... and she said it was "impressive" on The View. I guess we don't know how many men Babs has seen naked, but I bet its enough to recognize an impressive peep. He's just proud.

I don't know. Maybe I'm missing something. He didn't touch anyone. None of the girls he sent pictures to were underage.

Anyway. That's all I have to say about that, I suppose.

Hank is currently at the groomer. I should be cleaning the dog hair out of my car and grooming myself, because I'm babysitting for a friend of Zack's this evening. I am not, of course. I will wait until minutes before I have to leave, I'm sure.

It's just that this Shania Twain rerun on Oprah is so captivating. I can't seem to pull myself away.
When she said after her husband cheated on her, and they were getting divorced, that she was freezing and the only thing that could make her stop shaking was to be chin-deep in a steaming hot bubble bath. That's me. When I'm super sad, scared, or anxious, I'm suddenly FREEZING and shakey. I get that. I get her.

I talked to Zack a lot today. I really needed him to tell me Hank was going to be alright at the groomer, because I'm a little bit of a lunatic. If he tells me he is ok, I feel like it must be true. He is off work for the next couple days and is spending his time playing video games with his new bestie David. I like David, he seems very interesting. Most importantly Zack likes David, they seem to get along quite well.

Well, I should shower. It's hot as could be outside and it's important I shower before I go to babysit. I'm really looking forward to babysitting =]

Have a great night everyone, I encourage all of you to send naked cell phone pictures to your significant others, and not twitter. Especially if you are a politician.

Be looking for a "Hank's New 'Do" Post in the near future!


XOXOX

Walmart

I went to walmart today. I am not a fan of walmart. I like to get in and get out. As fast as possible.

Today I saw someone at walmart I know vaguely from high school and facebook. She stopped me. Not a polite smile, not a wave, she stopped me. I didn't like where this was going, but I was polite.

I am a firm believer in being kind.

You never know what kind of a day someone is having, or what kind of place they're at in their lives.

I guess I just know that if someone who I vaguely know is stopping me in walmart to make conversation, she probably really needs someone to talk to, or she thinks I do.

This person told me she had just found out she was pregnant, again.

I went through my mental roll-o-dex to check the facts. Did I know this already? If it was on facebook, surely I would have seen it. Nope, I didn't know. How many kids does she already have? 2. Isn't she always complaining about them and how her boyfriend is physically and verbally abusive on facebook? Oh, yes.
This is why I didn't know this person was pregnant, she is facebook hidden.

I love hiding people. I don't have to worry about their children if I don't have to read about how they're "guna get a whoopin if they don't stop bein NOTTY" (actual status of this person).

Do you ever have the sudden urge to tell someone you barely know that you would be happy to adopt their unborn child? Just me? Well, whatever.

I hurried from the conversation. She offered nothing else. She was excited for the baby and "kicked out that liar" who I assumed was the abusive boyfriend. I'll pray for them and hope for the best.

I doubt she's reading this, but if you are- I didn't mean to offend you, and honestly I would adopt any of the three of your kids in a heart beat. Let me know.

I honestly do try hard not to judge people, but I feel like I have enough info there to know we couldn't be friends.

After my encounter with the reason I rarely shop where I might see someone I know, I continued with my shopping.

Let me precede the next story with this fact, I love red grapes. Green ones are sour and gross and I don't know why people would choose them over red.

Yummo

This walmart is ALWAYS out of red grapes.

Do you ever have that moment when someone who is clearly without all of their mental faculties, or even TOTALLY out of their mind, is saying what you are thinking but would never say?

For example, one time things were moving slowly at the zoo and we were stuck with 100 other sweaty stinky people waddling through that hot dark tunnel in the rainforest. My mom was freaking out. When out of nowhere this perfectly nice mentally handicapped gentleman started shouting "ALRIGHT, HURRY UP! I'M GONNA FREAKOUT! I'M CLAUSTROPHOBIC! I'M HOT! HURRY UP!". My mom said he was speaking her inner monologue.

Today walmart was out of crunchy delicious red grapes. I was disappointed. This day was not going well.

When suddenly, I had to check to make sure I still had a hold on things, was that me yelling?

I turned around to find this meth head SCREAMING at an employee "WHY ARE THERE NEVER ANY RED GRAPES?! I NEED THEM. I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER! I NEED THE EXPLETIVE RED GRAPES! EVERY TIME I'M HERE YOU EXPLETIVES ARE OUT OF THEM!".

I was cracking up. I wanted to say "Yeah, I'm with crazy! Where are the expletive red grapes?" But I didn't. I grabbed a bag of icky green ones and I shuffled away trying not to laugh.

Sigh, walmart. At least it wasn't night time. It wasn't totally packed.

Tomorrow my little Hank is having his hair shaved! I am nervous, but this place is a lot nicer and therefore less stressful for me. I am finding that he is less stressed if he is tired, and the place he's getting groomed at is about 23 blocks from our house, which is what I've been walking with him. So I'm going to drive my car down there and leave it. Then walk home, get Hank and walk him back to the groomer. That way he is tired and it will be less stressful for him to be groomed.

He's been sort of achey after we walk. He's good the next day, but for the day after we walk he has a hard time getting up after he is laying down. It's still easy for him to run around the yard with the neighbors dog, but getting up from a nap is rough. I guess I need to make an appointment with his vet to make sure walking him isn't detrimental.

My google vet skills say it's just because he's out of shape, and that he will get used to it and be ok. That this is good for him. It's still hard to see him sore. I supposed I'll buy a supplement. He's only 5.

I'm excited to post pictures of his new 'do! I'm sure it will be comical if nothing else.

Welp I suppose that's all for today boys and girls.
XOXOXOX

Naked Skype Chatting

(This blog entry's original post date is May 11th... however my blog is obsessed with this post for some reason, and occasionally reposts it as a new post without my permission... sorry about that...)

By accident... of course.

I am a very anxious person. I worry a lot. I am very nervous about all of this, as to be expected, and I had a very long night.
Hint- Don't watch international flight tracking.

As my frequent blog readers know, I am quite the little bath taker. When I get nervous (bored, tired, sleepy, hot, cold... anything really) I take a bath, and facebook stalk on my cellular. Yes, even though I have a brand new cell phone (a Thunderbolt actually, it rocks by the way).

Anyway.

This morning around 3am, since I'm not sleeping, I decided to take a bath. I knew Zack was in the airport waiting for his flight to Bahrain and that he could be calling or skyping me soon, but I also thought it might be a while, which is why I decided to take a bath.

I definitely didn't want to miss a skype call or a phone call so I decided to prop my laptop up on the toilet- easily reachable from the tub- just in case my cell phone didn't get the skype call for whatever reason.

Well, as I'm sure you've guessed. About 5 minutes after sinking into a flaming hot bubble bath, I got a skype call on my laptop. Which I immediately answered naked in the bath tub.

Skype is so fantastic

He was in a starbucks.
Eh, whatever.
I'm just so glad I got to see his face.
I miss him so much.

He will be done traveling FINALLY this evening. I'm hoping to hear from him shortly after he lands. Then I hope to sleep for a very long time.
I will be so relieved when he is done traveling and I know he is safe and ok.
I miss him so much.

I miss him so, so, much.

He is well by the way. He was happy to see his naked wife and his sweet Hank and Lucy. We are both very sad, and having a hard time adjusting. But it's only been a few days, and we are both very, very, tired. We will be ok.

I am so lucky I have him to miss.

Oh and, in true Zackery style, he skype introduced me, while naked in the bathtub, to his new barista friend. Hahahaha. Whatever. He could only see to my naked shoulders. Poor guy.

Ew. Ew. Ew. What An Exciting Life

Is it sad that I am super excited that my landlord told me he has graduation parties all weekend and won't be able to come mow my lawn? My landlord is a relatively nice man, enjoyable even. I like him.
But, everyone who has ever rented a property ever in their lives knows that there is a certain level of anxiety that comes with knowing your landlord is coming to your house. My landlord mows for me, for a small fee, and I have found he can come anywhere from once every 3 days to once every 7 days. He's busy, so he can't really say for sure when he will be here. Which is why I also like it when it's raining, because I feel like I can relax.
I'm not hiding a meth lab or anything. I'm just messy, and I forget to pick up all the dog poop, or I'm not wearing a bra and my curtains are open. He's seen me looking pretty rough.
He also works with my Dad, and they are friends. So I know that if something is too out of the ordinary here I will hear it from my pops as well. So, I'm on edge often. Right around 3:30 every day when they get off work, until it gets to be too late for mowing. lol. It's pathetic really.
I should be medicated. More.

**Fair Warning: The rest of this post is kind of gross, and sort of long. But it's very funny, and it has pictures, and not of anything gross, and everybody loves pictures!**

Today I am doing more cleaning. Mostly dog vomit, because Hank is having allergy issues, apparently. Yesterday the lawn was mowed, and he always pants himself sick when the grass is mowed because he is apparently very allergic to cut grass. I feel for him because I have terrible allergies also, but I don't puke on the floor. He's also very nervous about where Zack has been and isn't getting a lot of sleep since he is constantly looking for him. I feel ya, Hank.
As you can see, not only is my life very exciting, it's also immensely glamorous.
Yesterday I had to pick up all the dog poop, which I hadn't done in several days. It was horrifying and I couldn't help but laugh thinking about Zack.

Zack hates dog poop. He has serious dog poop fear. Child hood trauma or something. He's a big baby.
When he first moved in with me, and he and my Dad turned into bff's my Dad started addressing Zack concerning all matters of lawn and Dog care. This included Hank poop.
Even though I offered multiple times to continue picking up the poop, or paying someone else to do it, he insisted that it was his responsibility. Per my Dad.
The first day he went out to pick it up he insisted I stand on the front porch and talk to him while he did it, to distract him.
It was hilarious.
Every once in a while he would smell something and gag and gag and gag. Then get so mad at me for cracking up. It was hilarious.
The icing on the cake was when Hank, casually walked up right beside him and made more of a mess for him to pick up. I think Hank was laughing too.
I knew that day, watching Zack pick up Hank mess and gag, all the while covered in Hank's hair, that he was my soul mate. If he could be with me and love Hank and rarely complain about owning the sweetest, sheddiest dog in the world, and pick up after him, he must really love us. And he does. So much.

But, Hank is one thing, and other peoples dogs are another.
When Zack and I drove to Florida before he left for Bahrain, we drove because my Grandma needed to get her dogs and car back there so she could spend some time in the house she has there.

Scooter, My grandma's yorkie, sleeping on Zacks shoulder.

Patsy, My Grandma's Wheaton Terrier, laying on my Grandma's stuff while we drove.

We loved driving down there. 25 hours, and all. Because Zack and I love to spend time together. But honestly, while we loved it and got to see lots of cool things, and make memories we will never forget, our trip started off pretty shitty. Literally.

We stopped every once in a while to eat and let the dogs out, or if we saw signs for something cool Zack we wanted to see.

Giant Superman statue in Metropolis, for example =]

It was super fun, and the dogs were pretty well behaved that first day.

Except for the incident at Sonic. Patsy was barking herself into a heart attack because 2 motorcycles drove up. Patsy loves motorcycles because she associates them with my Dad, who she loves more than life. Even after allowing Patsy to talk to the very nice bikers to show her they were not in fact my father, she continued to bark and completely freak out.

I decided to put her in the car since no one could order their food over her obnoxious barking.

I put her in the car, which the bikers parked right next to, and walked back to the table to grab my food and the bowl of water we had for the dogs, and then walked right back to the car to sit in there and eat with her while Zack and Scooter finished at the tables outside.

By the time I got back to the car, where I could hear Patsy barking and freaking out at the bikes still, she had lost her shit. Literally. Barked until she pooped right in the front seat. In less than a minutes time. Less than 30 seconds probably.

Zack was horrified.

He didn't even see it! For the rest of the day he talked about how disgusting it was that I picked it up with a napkin and put it in a fast food cup and threw it away. He was horrified. And it didn't even make the car stink.

That night we stopped in Tennessee and spent the night at a pet-friendly hotel.

Patsy and Scooter looking out the window at the hotel

That morning we woke up and Zack went down to smoke and get some breakfast. When he came back, he was excited, and said that this hotel had terrible breakfast but was extremely pet friendly, and that he met someone downstairs who had kept 3 llamas in their room the night before and they were outside now. I had to go see them, so we spent about an hour walking the dogs outside and seeing the llamas. Plenty of time for them to do their business before we got on the road, we thought. 

 I know it's a terrible picture of the llamas, but we couldn't get too close, we didn't want to scare them.

We got on the road as soon as we were done walking the dogs, and totally forgot our drinks in the hotel room. Zack started complaining that he was dying of thirst after about 3 minutes. So we pulled off when we saw a sign that said last exit 50 miles and let the dogs out at dunkin donuts, and got some Tennessee sweet tea that we were pretty excited about. So, basically that morning the dogs had been in the car for abour 15 minutes so far.

We were back on the road, and I wasn't stopping until someone was begging me. I'm sort of a male like that. It was early, Zack would fall asleep, as would the dogs, and I would drive until they woke up. 

I had JUST set the cruise control when Zack started saying "I think Scooter is squatting, I think he's gonna go to the bathroom!". I was laughing because he is so paranoid and told him we had just had him out, it wasn't possible he still had to go. Then Zack started to scream "Scooter stop! Stop! Scooter! Molly, pull over!!" He was indeed pooping on all of grandma's stuff we were taking cross country for her. And as Zack screamed Scooter walked and dragged it across the rest of the stuff.  

Zack started gagging, I started cracking up. I have worked at daycares, and I volunteer at the animal shelter, and foster puppy mill dogs, poop is not nearly as horrifying to me.

We had just passed the sign that said we had 50 miles to go til there was anything that could be done about it. We had also just cleaned out the car and threw away all the napkins, there was nothing to clean it up with.

I was dying laughing. It smelled... unfavorable. Zack was trying to roll down the window, and Patsy immediately started trying to jump out. It was unbelievably funny. The window was rolled down one inch and Zack's entire face was sticking out of it screaming at me how we needed to pull over to the side of the (very busy dangerous) road THAT MINUTE. I was trying to explain that there was nothing we could do and we would just have to tough it out for 48 more miles. I almost peed my pants I was laughing so hard.

He made me clean all of it up when we finally got pulled over. It was also all over Scooter, and he wouldn't even hold him while I sprayed him with water out of a bottle I borrowed from the gas station that said "toxic",  and wiped his tiny furry butt off. He gagged the entire time.

My husband the U.S. Navy Sailor.

Oh, silly Zack. I miss him so much that dog poop reminds me of him.

What an exciting, and glamourous life.

I couldn't be happier to live the rest of it with my sweet Hubs.

I know that was a really long and gross post lol... but whatev. I thought it was hilarious and Zack will laugh when he reads it =] Sorry if we grossed you out!

Love you!

I'm An Idiot, How Exciting!

In my frenzy (or crazy), obviously to keep busy, I have been literally purging all of the extra in my house. It is obscene. Boxes and boxes and boxes of stuff for goodwill. I'm almost embarassed. Beds, bedding, old stocking stuffers, shoes, random items I don't need, tupperware by the case load for example, but mostly CLOTHES. I just did this last year, I know, some of you have read about this once before. But last year I kept things because I thought that they were cute and one day I'd be able to wear the outfit I wore to post prom my junior year, again.

I am an idiot.

I am doing fabulous on weight watchers. I am a lot more aware of what I eat, mainly. Knowing my regular sandwich from Jimmy's is 20 points, has kept me away from their freaky fast goodness. French fries are out of the question, and even my favorite salad has like 18 points. I feel like an idiot for eating like that before. Because fruit is 0 points (yay grapefruit!!) and requires almost no prep-time I mostly eat that. Also, so that I get some real food in I eat oatmeal or something for breakfast and maybe a weight watchers smart ones frozen meal for dinner. Which is difficult for me, because I don't like to eat things that don't expire this year. But, it's a marked improvement from the crap I eat usually without really even thinking about it.

It's actually perfect, because Zack's health habits are changing drastically due to his new found love of fitness, and his roommate David. So, I feel confident that when he returns we will be able to stay fit and look sexy together.

Back to my point, I am doing fabulous on weight watchers. My clothes, after only one week, are already fitting a lot differently. I am stoked. So, I thought, I could get out my old clothes that I saved and see if they fit.

I am an idiot.

This was a terrible decision for a few reasons. The first is that I have been wearing clothes that fit loosely to begin with so my 3 or 4 pound weight loss since starting WW is going to make clothes that were already borderline too big, fit like they're too big. Putting on clothes that were SEVERAL sizes smaller was a joke. They were way too small and left me feeling like a huge douche.
The second reason that it wasn't a great idea, is that those clothes, are not cute. As it turns out. They looked fabulous on my 5 years ago, because that's when they were stylish and new. Not today, folks. Not today.
Why did I think that wearing those funny, tie under your boobs over a tanktop thingys were even remotely acceptable? Talking about showing off your assets. Apparently I thought those were words to live by.

Circa May 2008- hopefully the last one of those shirt toppers I wore.

I am an idiot.

So today while purging the clothes from my bedroom, without even opening last years boxes I put in my closet marked post-weight loss, I put them in my car to be taken to goodwill. Outski.

This is not because I am not confident that I will fit into them again, I will. I could totally rock those boob-showy thingys and tiny tank tops, in a couple of months. But, why would I? My thoughts on keeping them previously wasn't to save money on new clothes, it was to wear cute smaller clothes as a reward to myself when I lost weight. Reward myself from wearing clothes that I wouldn't have worn today if I never gained any weight at all. What a reward that would have been.

Ya know what a better reward will be? NEW CLOTHES. Woot! It's going to be spectacular.

So, they're all gone. Except my favorite old pair of jeans, also not acceptable to wear in 2011. But, how frickity awesome will I feel when I can wear them again?? Yessir.

I'm feeling confident! I feel motivated, and I am going to kick this weight loss things ass, and then all of you will donate money for my new wardrobe... please.

Okeydoke. More cleaning to get to. Talk to you all later!

By the way- I've been getting RECORD views on this blog, like the highest they've ever been by almost double, and yet the comments have drastically decreased. What the hayl? No comment?

xoxox

Psych

About a month ago Zack and I went with the family to a psychic. At first we were both totally sceptic and even a little bit resistant, since we are both Christian and psychic's are sort of looked at, well badly, by a lot of Christians. But this woman told my Mom 20 years ago that she was pregnant with a little boy before my mom even knew she was knocked up. She predicted that an important man in my Aunt Mary's life was going to pass away shortly before my Grandpa died. She predicted my cousin Angie would get pregnant with a little boy, he is yet to make an appearance but anatomy scans show she's right. She's predicted lots of things I can't remember right now. She's scary good.
So we went.
Or I went, and Zack was forced. Whatev.
On mulitple occasions that day Zack and I had discussed the number 23 and how we thought it was good luck, so when my Mom called to tell me she had already bought my turn with the psychic and that I was number 23, I instantly felt like that was a good sign.
Zack was number 25, so I went first... obviously.
I had no idea what to expect and I was concerned she would tell me something awful, or be mean to me, or tell me to take my hair out of the knotted pony tail it was in (which she did to my cousin Stacy just a few turns before mine). Any of those things would have sent me running from the facility crying and sucking my thumb.
I was pleasantly surprised when it was finally my turn, when I walked up to a crazy-fun-aunt looking type, who seemed genuinely excited to see me.
I told her how excited and nervous I was and she asked if she had ever seen me before. I told her no, I was there with my Mom and My Aunt and Husband, and Cousin, but that I had never been before. She gave me a generic pink pen to give to whomever brought me with them, which seemed odd. Then I wrote my name on a piece of paper and thus began my "reading".
The first thing she said to me was "Are you pregnant?". "No." I told her. "Well it's unlikely, I don't think so, no. no. I'm not. Unfortunately." She smiled at me and said "What's your daughter's name?".
"Uh, no daughter. No kids yet. Unfortunately."
"Really? hm."
At this point I was disheartned. We were 0 for ... what, like 3? I dont know. I was bummed. Then she said "Where is your husband going?"
"What? What do you mean?" I stuttered, shocked.
"Where's he going? I want to tell you he's going to be safe."
Aaaand tears. Here I am in a bar, talking to a psychic, trying not to cry.
"He is? Thank you for telling me that, he's being stationed in Bahrain in May. Without me."
"Well, he will be safe." She assured me and touched my hand.
"Are you all trying to get pregnant before he leaves?" She asked me. This is a common question and usually when people ask I can feel them judging our decision and I feel I have to justify it.
"We're not trying, not preventing. We would love to get pregnant but we've been trying for a while now and it hasn't happened, so..." I stammered.
"Well, in your 25th year, you will have a healthy baby."
I'm 24. My birthday is in October. Que more tears... I'm a blubbering idiot ok?
"Yeah? That would be amazing. I would love that."
All of these quotes are freaking me out. Without anyone suffering through anymore conversation, here's the rest of what she told me.
She said that I needed to be in the health field, but not a "traditional" health career. Hm. Since I'm training to be a Doula, I thought that was very interesting.
She told me that I needed to try to save some money because while Zack was gone or after my pregnancy (if I got pregnant before he left) I was going to lose a lot of weight and need a new wardrobe. Well, sounds good to me.
She told me my husband is crazy about me. And a few other things I felt I already knew, like that my husband and I would have 2 babies a boy and a girl and we would all live a happy life together.
Our time together (about 7 minutes) was ending and I stood up to leave. As I did she said "Wait, I just got this, you'll be pregnant before he leaves. Go home and have lots of sex. Take a prenatal every day until you get pregnant. You're going to be pregnant before he leaves." Aaaand more tears. She also said that I needed to stop putting my body down. No baby wants to enter a condemned body, she informed me. Then she wrote down some words for me to live by, and repeat to myself often, "I honor my body as a vehicle of God".
And I do. I honor my body as a vehicle of God.

Wouldn't that be just the best? To be pregnant before he left? Ugh. I'd love it.
So we stopped on the way home and bought prenatals and I've been taking them every day since. With my fingers crossed and my legs in the air. Too much? ha.

Here's a rundown of what she told Zack about 10 minutes after she talked to me.
We were sitting across the bar, so it's not impossible that she knew he was my husband.*
The first thing she said to him was that he was super "potent" and fertile right now.
Also that in about 5 months we would feel and be financially stable- that's about 3 months in to his duty in Bahrain.
She said that he was going to have a little boy, with his wife (me, ha), and be a little league coach. She also told him (what I already knew) That he's going to be a great Daddy =)
Also, apparently we are going to Europe at some point, and having LOTS of sex there.
She said in 14 months she saw real estate, maybe an acreage, come into our lives.
And finally she said he may get a phone call from a female family member concerning a womens health issue, but that it would all work out, and everyone would be ok.

All in all we both thought it was very cool and we're hoping for the best. I believe I will get pregnant before he leaves =) Because my body is a vehicle of God. And I honor it.

I have a whole lot of netflix and dishes to catch up on today so I better get on with that.

Have a spectacular day readers, I love your faces!

Oh yeah! - I'd like to wish a very happy birthday to my Mommy, who is the very best mom anyone could ask for. This picture illuminates where I get my drinking tolerance - or lack thereof.

And to my sweet beautiful niece Kenzie Rae. Happy 4th Birthday peanut butter and jelly sandwich!

I'm here! I'm just boring.

I didn't fall off the face of the planet. I know, it's been a while. I apologize. Even my husband, who I actually live with, asked me why I haven't blogged. Here I am!
Unfortunately, I just don't have much to talk about.

Which is so funny.

Because anyone who knows me knows I always have something to talk about. Always.

This week has been an unusually slow one.

So, tomorrow I will think of something interesting to blog about, I swear. Maybe even tonight, we'll see. I just wanted everyone to call off the search parties. I'm here!

Hey here's an idea, tell me what I should blog about! Leave a comment, let me know. It's very easy, you don't even need a google account if you're the last human alive that doesn't have one.

xoxoxo

Alfred Had Nothing On Ankaboot

One of my major concerns about when Zack is gone is my lack of a spider killer. Every year in the fall, well all 2 of them, that I've been in this house the spider problem is terrifying. From the windows in our house we can see the bigger than a half dollar size spiders crawling around in the bushes in front of the house.
When it was just Haley and I the spiders inside the house were a much much larger issue. I don't know why. They were EVERYWHERE. We had this super massive lint roller (read: intense dog hair problem) that looked like a paint roller. It was on a super long extendable poll thingy. Haley and I rolled several spiders from a safe 6 feet away while screaming and hopping like lunatics. It was touch and go, and I made the landlord hire someone to spray, but we lived.
Last year we met Alfred.
Alfred was a spider the size of a hamster. He was big enough that I knew his name from reading his name tag. He came to terrify me by building a web right in front of my living room windows every night, that reached just close enough to the porch banister that I thought Hank would get caught in it. Every night he looked at me through the window while I shook, with all 100 of his creepy little eye balls. For months he showed up every night around 6pm and was gone, web included, by the time I woke up in the morning. Sneaky little bastard.
I'm pretty sure Alfred had to work very early in the morning, so he had to pack it up and get their on time. Thank God Hay and I made such a spectacle of spider killing, because I think Alfred heard about it. Which is why he never let me catch his big ass in my house.
Regardless, Alfred was something I talked about on facebook on the regular. His presence, even outside, haunted me. All of my friends were aware of Alfred and when Zack was home he and his friends would stand on the porch and smoke while I stared at Alfred hoping the second hand smoke would cause him to contract an illness. This went on for months, and Zack refused to put out a hit on the little bastard because he said he ate the mosquitoes and other bugs and that Alfred was probably the reason that we didn't really have an indoor spider problem. This theory was of no consequence to me, and gave me nightmares about him eating smaller spiders. It was horrifying.
Then came what should have been D day for Alfred, but what turned out to be the day I wanted to burn the house down and build a new one, and move out of it just for good measure.
Zack and Doug had been drinking, and I had a headache, so I went to bed at about midnight. When Zack smokes he usually leaves the front door open, because he likes to talk to the people in the house. Even when there's no one in the living room, out of habit, he leaves the door open. Meaning I could hear went on that night.
I like to listen to the drunken ramblings of my husband and his friends because they're absolutely silly. That night they were discussing using my spray deodorant and a lighter to, essentially, blow torch Alfred. I immediately yelled out to tell them I did not want them to burn the house down, and I was pretty sure if they lit him on fire he would just run his humungous flaming ass into the house to call 911. It was a disaster in the making, and I advised against it.
Well, like a lot of the things I advise drunk people against, they decided this was the best plan of action and I was too tired to deal with the nonsense. I crossed my fingers and fell asleep.
The next thing I know, probably about 10 minutes later, I heard women screaming outside at the top of their lungs. They were screaming and yelling "Under the stair! Move the stair!" And then more loud squealing screams. The women sounded like they were being chased by a tiger and I thought maybe Zack and Doug caught the neighbors house on fire and the girls who live next door ran out only to be greeted by a flaming Alfred. In that case the screaming made sense. So I jumped up and ran out to the living room to see what was happening.
To my surprise the only women yelling were Zack and Doug. And they were doing the familiar spider killing hop and scream that Haley and I had done. They were standing in the yard trying to gain control of their flailing limbs when I came out. It was hilarious, but I was relieved because I assumed that, like when Hay and I did the hop and scream, Alfred had seen his last days.
Alas, I was incorrect.
Apparently what had happened was that they had set Alfred's web ablaze and Alfred casually hopped on to the ground (when the woman screaming began). My brave USN Sailors then moved the single cement stair next to the porch to 'get him' and just as they did... a SNAKE slithered out from underneath. Causing the hilarious limb flailing and my sudden urge to burn the house down.
Why me?? WHY ME??
That was the day I discovered my husband is also scared of spiders. And snakes. Maybe not to my extent, he could still take them out sober in broad day light with a shoe, but he was definitely a little frightened of MASSIVE man spiders when intoxicated, and he doesn't like snakes much either.

** Side note** Alfred showed up again several days later, only this time he was more aggressive and hung from the screen door. 

I locked Zack out of the house and told him he could live in it again when he got rid of Alfred. I recorded the Shoe Vs Spider showdown, and on that glorious day the Shoe won.  

The snake, or rather a snake, met it's match with the lawn mower a few days after that.****

Welp.

Today my mom sent me a message about how my brother saw something on the Discovery Channel about massive spiders in Bahrain. So I did some googling... holy shit.

Meet Ankaboot (spider in Arabic)

I hate the idea of not being with Zack, but I have never ever been so happy to not be going to Bahrain with him before in my LIFE. Holy balls.

You may now take pause and itch all over.

I wont post any more terrible pictures of Bahraini spiders here. Google it though, if you're brave. They're massive. And they're aggressive.

I'm going to put the Shoe Vs Spider showdown on a DVD for Zack to take with him to Bahrain. If he's smart he will play it on a loop in his barracks so that the spiders tell their spider friends what a spider killing badass Zack is.  

You and I will know the truth, but they don't need to know. 

Jingle Bells!

I am so excited for Christmas.

Today Zack and I exchanged gifts because I spent an obscene amount and was too excited to wait to give him his stuff. So, naturally hes been playing with his new ps3 (I'm such a good wife) all the live long day. sigh.
That's what I meant to do of course, give him a gift he would like more than me.

Anyway.

The weather is so unacceptable. Seeing as I am hereditarily a Lich, I am usually freezing. This weather is slowly killing me. I am a Molly-sicle. All of the time. Earlier today, it was 24 tiny degrees and pouring rain. Which of course, immediately froze. Making it dangerous and close to impossible to get from point A to point B in a motor vehicle. And to top it off a couple of inches of snow, to frost the ice cake. Which is annoying, and also scary. My bestie Chelsea was in an accident today that I won't even think about for more than a second, because it upsets me. I am so, so grateful that she and her precious babes are ok. I love them so very much.

Last night Babe and I went to Abraham Lincoln high school to watch my cousin Cody sing in a chior concert. Honestly, him and his beautiful (cougar) gf Bailey were the only ones worth listening to. They both rock. Their talents are being wasted in such a lack-luster program. They need to be at Lewis Central. It is imperative.
Anyway, after the first terrible song the freshman chior, which was virtual male-free, sang the terribly boring chior director announced that "this is not a rock concert, hooting and hollering for people is not appropriate for this type of concert". I was annoyed, but Babe took her comment as a challenge. He smiled. And waited.
Eventually-- something like 12 terrible songs later-- Cody and Bailey were FINALLY on stage. As the kiddies lined up on the bleachers Babe turned around with a devious look in his eye and said to my mother "I'm going to yell for Cody", and she laughed and said that was a gread idea. I was too far away to do anything and thought it wouldn't really matter anyways with all the clapping after they were done singing. Not what Babe had in mind. In dead silence, with robed high schoolers lining up on the bleachers, he quite randomly yelled "CODY SELF".
Cody's face turned bright red and my family laughed until we almost peed. It was glorious. The director with the stick up her ass was visibly unhappy. Whatev, lady. Maybe worry more about your soloists knowing the words to the songs theyre singing. ugh.
Cody and Bailey were amazing. Cody is extremely talented musically, and apparently Bailey is as well. Honestly I had no idea, but she earned about 1000 cool points once we heard her sing. They rock.

So that's that. I can't sleep.
I might blog again later, I've been considering adding the chapstick story (about Zack and I's first kiss) to this blog, or maybe the story about when he proposed to me. Because it's my blog and they're fun stories, but also because I want to remember them forever and ever.

Welp. I suppose I'll give trying to sleep a try.

So glad we had this talk, I'll leave you with this hilarious video of some people I love doing our favorite hip-hop number. We're fantastic dancers.

Babe

My husband could beat up your husband. Ok, maybe he could, maybe he couldn't... but he could probably out sing him.

My husband rocks. He is everything I could have ever asked for in a person to share my life with, and I literally thank the Big Man every single day, that he is in my life.

<3 What a dorko <3

That being said, I'm pretty sure my family is turning in to one of those families that says things like "If something ever happens with Molly and Babe I'm not sure who we'll keep!". They LOVE this kid. I get it, I picked him, but c'mon!

My entire family refers to my husband as 'Babe'. They say it's because that's what I call him, and there are already too many Zach's in the family. Right.

Let's take today for example. I am sick. I have some sort of disgusting stomach flu that I will spare all (both) of you the details of. It is gross but my parents changed my diapers, so when I spoke to them I expected them to, as usual, ask me every tiny detail... "what color are you puking?" Etc. They're weird, and nothing is personal or private in my family. This is one of a million reasons why I love them.

Anyways, I wake up from a particularly sweaty nap and decided it was time to call Bob and Mickey to see if I can score some front door delivery lime popsicles, or at the very least, their deepest sympathies for my condition. Let me tell you what actually happened.

"Hey, sis how ya feelin'?" The concerned voice of my father answering the phone for his sickly only daughter (and clear favorite child). "Well, Dad" I sigh, "I've been better, I'm thinking it's unrelated to whatever was making me sick before, and its just that stomach thing you guys had...". I admit it, I placed a little blame there hoping for two boxes of popsicles. "I'm sorry Mol... Babe at work?" He responds.

I'm caught off guard by this... perhaps he is wondering if Babe has already purchased and perhaps fed me these life saving treats that I so desire...

"Uhh yeah, he had to leave a little while ago. He won't be home until 7am or so..." I say quietly to assure them that my throat is sore and in desperate need of cold limey goodness. "Oh, well that sucks, I'm sorry. Here's Mom I'm all greeeeeasy."

Pump the brakes. No Zack no talky? How is this acceptable?

Repeat that with the voice of a slightly more distracted Michelle Lich and you have the entire conversation. Only at the part where I speak quietly, my darling mom tells me to take the dick out of my mouth so she can hear me. I admit I laughed hysterically, but I did not get my popsicles. And Dawn, if you happen to read this... I didn't have anything but a breath mint in my mouth.

This is a constant issue. I'm funny, but Zack is new and my family can NOT get enough of him. I wait in the BLISTERING heat to pick up cousin Cody from drivers Ed., he gets in the car and says "Babe working?"... seriously??? Little Zach calls me and I get excited thinking perhaps he is as bored as I am and would like to come clean my house, or accompany Hank and I on a walk, and instead he says "hey, Molly. Is Babe at work today?". Let's just say the answer to that question usually determines whether or not he still wants to play with me. Keep in mind, they ALL wanted to play with me pre-babe.

Sigh.

It has even spread to my Grandma's.

So, now I have to decide. Do I infect Zack with my illness and see how they react to determine if they still love me? Or do I infect Zack with my illness as a punishment for making them love him so much? It's a tough call.

The moral of the story is I love my husband more than they do, damnit, and my family BETTER love me at least equally :). I know these are truths. I just want my popsicles.

I do believe ill go watch Madagascar for the eleventh time today.


Follow up- My Daddy just called to check on me again and told me if I need anything to tell him and that no one loves me more than him :) feeling much better.


Thanks for reading this one too, kiddos.