Bombs Away!

Ari says:

INCOMING!!! Well, ok no. Not that type of bomb, exactly, but close enough. I was doing some major eradicating this weekend and it all started Friday after work. I got home, packed a quick bag, hustled the cat into the truck and got ready to head out. Just one more task to finish before going to the hotel: I had to set off the bombs. Yes, for the first time ever I had to set off flea bombs in my place of residence. I've never done this before and was a little nervous about the entire situation. I mean the box said I even needed to turn off my fridge (I accidentally forgot that part as I was scurrying out the door) to keep the pilot light from catching fire and blowing everything to smithereens! Well, true to form, I straightened my spine, marched into my apartment, grabbed two of the three bombs, reread the instructions for the billionth time and got into character. I was Dirty Harry (or any other cliché Clint Eastwood role) and I was there to wipe out all the dirty, stinky, rotten, no good, yellow bellied, flea varmints in the joint. I just needed holsters for my bombs (read: guns). If I had been able, I would have spun the "guns" in my palms, but instead I settled for a menacing glare around the living room, and an evil smirk as I shook the cans and got ready to "Make.... my..... day." Quick as lightning I set off the first bomb, placed it on the appointed newspaper stack, whacked my shin into the coffee table, cussed, shook the second can, set it off and placed on its stack, and then fled out the door. After I locked the door behind me, I sauntered down the sidewalk and did a combo wink/head nod to the imaginary "little lady" in the distance. Sherlock and I then rode off into the sunset to the hotel (actually we headed east a little bit, but you get the idea). We settled into the hotel and waited for Angela to join us. This turned in to quite the adventure. Sherlock was very intrigued with a couple items in the hotel room. First off, the full length mirrors on the doors to the closet were quite entertaining. When he first saw them he hunched his back, his tail got totally fat and he hissed for all he was worth. "Intruder!" I could almost hear him yell. I picked him up and showed him the "pretty kitten" in the mirror and made him see that it was just a reflection. He seemed to understand quickly, but forgot a couple times throughout the evening and would randomly scare the crap out of himself. He also did battle with the AC unit. Every time it came on he would jump and then either run into the other room, or get on top of it to swat at the air. He was in love with the kitchen cabinets because he could get on top of them and lay up there (he spent most of the night up there), but probably the most curious item was the bathroom door. Don't ask me why, but for some reason he thought it looked like a shelf and so proceeded to jump from the bathroom counter onto the top of the door (all while I was brushing my teeth) and got stuck laying over the door and the shower curtain rod. Nope, no shelf there. He looked at me with a face that was beseeching help, so I climbed onto the edge of the tub and rescued the poor kitty. All in all, Sherlock had quite the adventure. Ok, so going back in time a bit, Angela came over to visit and she and I ended up going to a yummy dinner at Pie in the Sky. We had a great time catching up, as it seemed we hadn't seen each other in forever. After dinner we headed back over to the apartment to air it out. I walked in and found the fumes weren't as bad as I expected, but that the fleas were still jumping. I hemmed and hawed for a few and then decided to set off the third bomb. I wasn't taking any prisoners or chances. So, Ang and I headed back to the hotel (does anyone remember that song?) and watched some tv and just chilled out before she headed home. Saturday dawned and promised to be a full day. I got up early and went over to the apartment to get started. I opened windows, turned the air back on and vacuumed everything in sight for well over an hour (side note: it is actually more difficult than you think to vacuum a couch). I started the first of my many loads of laundry, sprayed some flea-killing carpet spray and left again for the hotel. Sherlock and I chilled out while the spray dried, then checked out of the hotel and went back home. He was thrilled to be back, but was curious as to what the new smell was. I changed clothes quickly and cleaned up to head out for a movie. I was meeting up with Angela, Mama Bradley and Laura for our highly anticipated date to see Sex and the City. Can I just say: Awesome! I loved the movie and was surprised at the range of emotions throughout. If you haven't seen it, grab a girlfriend and go enjoy (along with a Cosmo or glass of champagne). Angela and I ran some errands after the movie and then crashed at my place for another movie. We watched "Death at a Funeral" and if you're in to British comedy, you'll love this movie. We laughed for almost 2 hours solid and I want to watch it again. Great movie. Angela left soon after to beat the nasty storm that was rolling in and I vacuumed again (keep in mind there is tons of laundry being done this whole time). I ended up talking to Katie for a long time that night and we made grand plans and pretty much had the world figured out. Unfortunately, I've slept since then, so I'll have to wait for another moment of clarity (or a great talk with Katie) to remember what it all was (Katie, don't think you're off the hook, we've got some work to do). Sunday, I finished off the laundry, vacuumed yet again, finished the book I was reading and settled in for a lazy day. I watched two great movies (yes, I know that's a lot of movies, but I enjoyed them all) "Charlie Bartlett" and "The Seeker" (I would recommend both of them) and started my new book. It really was a relaxing day and I loved taking it easy. The only thing missing was Bart, but we were able to talk for a while, so that helped. The great thing about the entire weekend is that I can now walk around the apartment or sit on the couch without a flea jumping on me. Sherlock is still a bit itchy, but I think the hardest part is behind us. I know I've got a lot of vacuuming to do over the next month, but that's ok, I'm feelin' lucky... punk.

Pathetically Hysterical

Ari says:
Before I get to my tale of woe, I have to tell you that today is Seanna's 10th birthday and I can't believe it. She's still an awkward (aquard) little girl in some ways, but she is growing up so quickly and I can't wait to see who she becomes. Happy Birthday to Seanna.
And on with the show... So, yesterday was "that day." We've all had them, we all know what it's like, but sometimes they just hit you harder than others. I had a righteously difficult day at work, filled with all kinds of ridiculous demands and last-minute projects, obnoxious coworkers (that word always looks like cow-orkers to me), and most of all an endless stack of junk that has to be completed by the end of August (let me just tell you that it may not all get done). And to top it off no one was available to escape and go to lunch with me (insert extended lower lip and frowny face here). Finally 4 o'clock rolled around and I practically ran out the door. I knew going home wasn't going to be much better, but I would have rather gone to the grocery for an entire day than stay at work any longer (yes, Bradley, the grocery; deal with it). I got home and immediately changed clothes to get on the treadmill (again, not my favorite), but I'm really trying to be better and workout more (Side note: I got an exercise ball and worked out with it on Wednesday and absolutely loved it!!). I trekked through my 45 minutes and was then able to cool down for a little bit. My next task for the evening was giving Sherlock yet another flea bath. I won't bore you with the details since I've already told you about the first one and we'll just say that it went about as well this time. So, this mean-ole-mommy let her son free after the torture and proceeded into the kitchen for some much deserved dinner. Got everything ready and in about 20 minutes I was propped on the couch, ready to enjoy food and a movie (Bart bought me Harry Potter OOTP for our anniversary. That's Order of the Phoenix for those of you not in the know). Sherlock was in hiding, licking everything on his body he could reach to rid himself of the residual horror that I had inflicted upon him. So there I was, eating, watching and just unwinding from a nasty day, when out comes Sherlock who decides to get up on his big box (which is actually a wide screen tv that was given to us for our wedding that we haven't been able to put up yet because of lack of space). He gets to about the middle of the box and then hunches down like he's going to pounce on something on the floor, concentrating intently. I'm vaguely watching him and wondering what has offended him, when I notice that he still hasn't jumped. No, he's not going to pounce. He's decided to pee on the wall. No, I am not kidding. The cat was so mad at me for the whole bath thing that he got right in front of me and peed on the wall. I immediately jumped up and swatted his nose, to which he responded by continuing his stream. I couldn't pick him up because it would have gone everywhere, so I had to wait until he was done. Needless to say, the cat was reprimanded and didn't come near me for quite some time. With dinner ruined and my mood even more foul than before, I did what any one of us would have done: I went and got a beer from the fridge. I plopped back down on the couch (after cleaning everything up, of course) and was able to watch the rest of my movie. By the end of the night I was able to laugh (almost) at the situation, but all in all, it was just a crappy day and I'm really glad it's over.
PS-Please don't make any "pissed off" jokes because if you did, I would be very disappointed in your lack of creativity. I know my friends and I know you are all way more clever than that.

I Just Don't Wanna

Ari says:
You know, it's just weird. I had this fantastic weekend with Bart, and then another amazing weekend with my Mom, we've got tons of stuff on the horizon, and there is plenty for me to do, but all in all, I am just in a rut. I'll get back to that. On a positive note, Mom, Bill and I had a great visit. I've told you about Mom's reaction to me showing up, and then Friday we had an "Urban Barbecue" (which consists of amazingly yummy restaurant bought bbq, tons of people and fireworks as far as the eye can see) or an "Ur-b-Q" as Bart called it. Saturday we were wiped out, so we spent the day cleaning up after the party and setting the condo to rights, but also rested, watched tv and just visited. Mom and I don't usually care what we do together as long as we get to talk and shop. Those are our only requirements. Sunday Bill worked around the condo getting ready for a business trip, so Mom and I headed out, ran some errands and of course, did some shopping. We found some fun little items that I will strategically debut through the rest of the summer. We also got rid of some clothes that she desperately needed to part with and made some room in her closet. Ok, so we only cleared a small 2 ft space, but it was definitely progress. Mom was also a great sport and didn't put up too much of a fight with the pieces I told her needed to go. Unfortunately, Monday came all too soon, but we had a great morning and early afternoon, had lunch at a decent Mexican place and then it was off to the airport. Actually, it was a bit of a mad dash since we had dawdled a bit, but all was well and I was able to check in with plenty of time left before my flight. I know, it's all a bit too exciting (insert sarcastic eye roll here). As for me, I'm in a funk. Maybe it's that so much is going on right now and I don't know how to handle it. Maybe it's that all these changes are coming, but not soon enough. Maybe it's that we've got fleas everywhere and I've got to get a hotel room this weekend to bomb the crap out of the apartment. I'm sure it's a combination of all these things, but I just can't seem to get out of it. I know I'll be fine and in true Ariana fashion will get through it like I do everything else, but right now when I think about doing anything at all my general reaction is "I just really don't wanna do anything." Wow, I'm totally depressing. I know we all get in moods and ruts, this just happens to be one of mine. Stay tuned, I'm sure something crazy will happen soon and I'll have a tale of woe with which to woo you (now see, wasn't that fun?).

Happy Birthday Mommy!

Ari says:
There are few people in this world who can truly change your life for the better. I am fortunate enough to have many of those people around me, however, I'm about to gush for a minute and if you're not in the mood, feel free to come back at a later date. My wonderful mother is one of those people who would give the world for those she loves. I have been lucky to be one of those people and have been the recipient of years of love, generosity, knowledge, and most of all, the ability to be the woman I've become. As children we are constantly looking for the best person to emulate and strive to become, and I didn't have far to look. There aren't always words to describe those you truly love, so suffice it to say that my Mom is one of my best friends and I am blessed that she raised me. Anyway (enough sap), the 4th of July is a magnificent day. Not only is it our national Independence Day (Will Smith or no), but it is also the birthday of one of the most important people in my life: my aforementioned maternal unit. I was lucky enough to work out an agreement with Bill to surprise Mom for this special occasion. Amazingly enough, I didn't ruin the surprise and was able to get on a plane Thursday night and get into their condo in Denver without being suspected. When Mom and Bill returned from dinner, I was happily sitting on the couch, entrenched in a movie and a glass of wine. Mom was rather angered to find the lights and tv on; wondering furiously "Who is in our HOUSE?" Finally she found me grinning on the couch. Keep in mind that I have waited for this moment for over a month, and have envisioned our reunion a hundred times with smiles, hugs, kisses and many laughs. On top of all that, Mom has being throwing a bit of a hissy that I wasn't coming out to see her, especially since I didn't have anything else going on. My Mom's response to my arrival? "You're kidding me!" And then she proceeded to walk into the other room. Ok, great. Either I've pissed her off or she needs to use the restroom (either way, it's toilet humor). Long story short, Mom was incredibly surprised and we proceeded to stay up entirely too late catching up and just enjoying each other's company. So far the weekend has been wonderful, but this time is too sacred to spend on the computer. I'll do a recap when I get back on Tuesday. Happy Birthday Mommy!!
PS-This particular title comes from when I was little. I was taught to sing at a very early age, and was very obliging in anything that was requested of me. "Mary Had a Little Lamb" and "I'm a Little Teapot" abounded. However, when left to my own devices, my favorite song to sing was "Happy Birthday" to my Mom. It was always completed with an obligatory blowing out of the candles, whether or not they were present. Either way, I think it's still my favorite song.

Good Knight?

I thought of you today...

I wish it was yesterday morning.

Now and again I find myself awake in the small hours of the morning, scared.

Of what? I can't say.

There's a place on the back of my heart that pricks me awake at night, and causes me to jump up with a gasp. A feeling that I'm no longer viable. That my life means absolutely nothing anymore. That I'm no longer a Knight fighting for the cause of good in this world. That somehow being a younger man made me a more meaningful force.

I don't think that many women will be able to understand or identify with this, but believe me when I say that your men understand.

I'm convinced that most men want to be a white knight. A champion willing to fight for honor, a Knight of Good. But so many don't know or haven't been shown how. So many turn to the things from their past that made them feel like some sort of warrior; sports, camaraderie, physical accomplishments, and conquests.

You can bet that in the absence of other physical challenges the challenge of some bar fight or random sexual conquest will make some men feel like they are significant again if they don't already feel that way.

I recently spent a night with my Mother-in-Law watching home movies of my Lovely Ariana as a young girl. And although this can be a fun, and indeed funny thing, it made me feel very humbled. Watching the grown woman I love as a young girl, made me acutely aware of my responsibility to her, to her parents, and to the hand that brought us together. I told her Mother, that I knew what she expected of me for her daughter. Although I didn't say it expressly, I knew she expected a white knight; a champion, virtuous, noble, caring, but also strong and willing to fight for her honor.

I hope that I am all of that. My fear is that I'm not living up to the Lord's expectations for the gift he's given me.

Look into the eyes of most old men. You'll see the very dream I've mentioned above awakened. In the sad eyes of an old man is the dream of a white knight fighting for his love and emerging a champion.

Hot Cross Thumbs

Ari says:
If I am unable to use my space bar today you'll have to forgive me. You can blame Angela all you want, but you'll have to forgive me. Let me 'splain, Lucy. Angela called me this weekend and told me she had purchased a gazebo for her backyard. This was great for her because she's had a bit of difficulty getting good shade in the yard for Bastian (her precious puppy) and also wanted something to make the yard a little cozier. So, when she asked for me to help her set it up this week, I quickly agreed and figured it would be fun to have a little project. "The box says it only takes an hour and a half to set up." Right. Little project... hour and a half. Right. I got to her place around 6:30 and we promptly set out for dinner. I know, that's the best way to start any project. Got back to her house and began getting everything outside and ready for launch. It took us a few minutes to get all the pieces out and separated into proper groups, according to their lettered stickers (the best were the ones that didn't have stickers). After that we kinda fell apart. We started with one corner, jostling and juggling parts A, B, C, D, J and K (someone didn't know their alphabet) and after an extended period (probably around 45 minutes or so) had the first corner assembled. The second corner proved almost as difficult, but we were starting to get the hang of it. Please keep in mind that as we discovered random maladies (ie: Bar J not fitting properly into a certain A, but would work in others, Bolt CC was not interchangeable with Bolt AA, Bar J and Bar K are in fact very different, etc) a colorful stream of expletives would spew forth from which ever of us had made the discovery. We also found that if anyone overheard someone else assembling a gazebo, it would sound like a sexual experiment gone awry ("You have to twist it to get it in." "There's no hole." "Just shove." and my personal favorite "Yank it back out.") At 9 we finally called a break, went and grabbed some much needed caffeine and returned to finish the last two corners. Luckily the 2nd two proved very easy in comparison and we had those up in no time flat. Then came the frame. It wasn't a confusing item to put together, just physically demanding. Each bar had to fit into another (Insert corner G into bar I, then screw in bar H which will fit into center piece L) (unfortunately, neither the instructions or diagrams were that clear), and was latched with a metal nub that when pushed in would allow the pieces to slide together and then the knob would pop back out into a pre-drilled hole, thus linking the two pieces. Yeah, let me just say that those little nubs are metal spawns of Satan. Miniature torture devices designed to test your courage and thumb strength and coerce you into quitting just shy of your goal. With each one, you were forced to place your entire body weight behind the very tip of your thumb, as the rounded protrusions would gouge into the pad of said appendage. We were not to be swayed. We got the outer frame put together with many grunts, groans and "ow, damn"s and then set to the inner frame. We traded off climbing the ladder and using our force of will and mighty thumbs were finally able to get everything into place. We did a little victory dance and let Bastian come out to inspect his new awning. All in all, it was very rewarding to see it all put together. And I really must say that this gazebo is our bitch.

Old Married Woman

Ari says:

I can't believe it's been a year. As of this past Sunday Bart and I have made it through the dreaded first year of marriage. Everyone says that the first year is the hardest. Yeah... 'bout that. Honestly, it has been a crazy year in more ways than just being newly weds. I won't go into details, since you probably all know, but it has been a wild ride. I just have to say that I am blessed with a wonderful husband and I couldn't ask for anything more. We do have some exciting things on the horizon, so stay tuned for details. Bart and I had a great visit this weekend. I can't really say that we did much of anything, but we had a blast nonetheless. Friday he surprised me with a Spa Day, so I got to be a pampered princess for a few hours and enjoyed my first ever facial, my second ever massage and my 10584th ever pedicure (give or take). It was amazing! I was so totally relaxed by the time we left and was basically a pulpy lump in the car on the way back to the hotel. Saturday was a lazy day, but we did manage to drag ourselves out to see Wall-E. If you haven't seen this yet, you've got to. I don't know how Disney/Pixar manages to make a machine robot so precious and lovable, but they do. We spent the rest of the night watching movies, eating pizza and just enjoying our time together. Coming home Sunday was difficult as always. I guess this time I was a bit better knowing that we are past the halfway point (3 months and counting) until he comes home and I'm on a 2 month countdown for other things (again, details to come and no, I'm not pregnant). I will say, though, that it feels as if I've spent the last year and a half counting down to some event or another and wishing away precious days. I don't think I've lost time or missed anything, just weird to constantly be pushing for next week or next month. Of course, I'm always ready for a weekend, but who isn't? OH!! Before I forget, Bart now has his computer back and has blogging capability. Feel free to bug the tar out of him until he actually writes a blog. Here's my threat: if he doesn't write one soon, I'll post all 3 of his email addresses, his cell number and hotel room number so that everyone can harass him. I'll give him until Friday.