Elaine said I should.  And since it’s 3:15 and my first chance to sit down at my desk today, I agree.

1. What time did you get up this morning?
5:45 a.m.

2. Diamonds or pearls?
Eh.  Neither?

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema?
“The Ruins”.  Great gore, STUPID ass plotline.

4. What is your favorite TV show ?
It’s way sophomoric, but Aqua Teen Hungerforce is something we can ALWAYS watch together.  It only takes 12 minutes, and it gives us tag lines for the rest of the day.

(more…)

I’m about to undergo radio silence, so I thought I’d pop in for a minute and let you know why.

Yesterday was Bryan’s birthday, which you already knew.  And we bought a house yesterday, which you probably already knew, too.

This morning has been nuts.  Out of nowhere, the Binja has gotten this horrible, hacking cough that kept him awake all of last night. (And us, too.) So he’s with me now, resting in his swing, while I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off. (And those of you who are like, “No, you’re not, you’re blogging” can freakin’ BITE ME.  I type uber fast, okay?)

Charlie got out this morning.  Found a woman walking a chihuahua.  THAT was fun.  

I think the bedrooms are ready to move.  The bathroom is packed up.  I’m now sitting in the living room and trying to figure out what to pack.  We have more books than anything else in the world, and books are so tricky to pack.  You throw too many in a box, and you can’t lift it.

I don’t own enough lexapro to get through this, I think.

We’re moving small stuff over today and big stuff over tonight.  And tomorrow we’re both going to work and the child is going to daycare and we’re going to pretend that we live in boxes all the time.

And of course, we have The Boy this weekend.  Which means an extra pair of hands.  I know he’d rather play Wii all weekend, but he’s got to help.  I’m not setting up a house by myself in time for a FREAKING PRODUCTION MEETING on Tuesday that my husband scheduled. (REALLY, BRYAN?!)

Just think, Sarah.. wine refrigerator.  Working oven and stove.  TWO BATHROOMS.

It will all be okay.

I’ll see you on the other side.

Him: Well, I had to have a sausage biscuit!  I was starving!  I was not feeling good hungry!

Me: Bryan, you have an excuse every time you eat junk food!  I wasn’t feeling good or my blood sugar was low!  I’m anemic, but you don’t hear me using that as an excuse to go binge on hamburgers!

Him: It’s because you just eat all the damn time.

Me: WHAHUHOHMYGOD, DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY THAT?!

Him: .. well.. i mean.. you just eat when you want to..

Me: OH BRYAN, MY EYEBROWS CAN NOT RAISE HIGH ENOUGH TO SHOW YOU THE IRE BEHIND THEM.

Him: You have ire?

Me: Oh, yes.  I have the ire eyes.

Him: Those look like Bette Davis eyes.  Or Marty Feldman eyes.

****

Me: You just can’t make a good argument, can you?

Him: Your momma makes a good argument.

Me: Nice.

Him: FOR BIRTH CONTROL.

****

Today is Bryan’s birthday.  He is thirty-some-odd years old.  He still plays with my hair every night before we fall asleep.  We never finish each other’s sentences.  Since we started dating, he has tried sushi, calamari, crawfish, and other foods he would never touch before.  I am now married (to him) with a child (by him).  We are buying our first house today.

All of the things that I feared would grow old and tedious have not.  All of the things I thought would get stuck in a rut did not.  Bryan is still as amazing and adventurous as he was when we first met, the guy who would spend money he didn’t have on gerber daisies to bring to my door.  Which I always ruined because I didn’t think he should have to come to my door, because this is not the antebellum south.

We have a simple life now, one that I relish every day.  Our mornings and evenings are routine, with a comforting ease to them.  Going out to eat is an extravagance that we don’t take lightly.  He tells me I’m beautiful 937 times a day, and every now and again, I believe him.  I fit amazing well in the crook of his arm when we sleep.  He is an amazing find, and I’m so lucky to have found him.

Happy birthday, BB.  Cranberry sauce, Happy Bunnies, and you make my parachute yellow.