and twitter, because seriously? check it out!
Not nearly as hilarious if you don't recognize that man, but I know him well, and I barely do. Go, alter loved ones, hilarity will ensue.
Showing posts with label my man. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my man. Show all posts
As hard as it may be to believe, my man actually has things to talk about other than me and our impending move. Despite certain people trying to prevent his hilarity from reaching the interwebs, he has overcome, and MYTGOD is back. Lovely new digs, don't you think? If you have stumbled here without realizing who or what mytgod is, I must warn you. It's offensive and immature and also it's hilarious. If you don't get it, that's fine. Please don't send hate mail, though, because it will only fuel his need to prod you into a politically correct frenzy.
P.S. He uses the word "vagina" a lot.
Does this Cloak make me Look Fat?
Posted by elizabeth at 1:49 PM Labels: home, my man, self-absorbedLater today, my man is leaving his home turf to forage for shelters. Because we have both realized that living in different places, requiring plane tickets and packing and unpacking, and him tripping over my shoes when I visit because I never know if I'll be in the mood to wear peek-a-boo heels or zip-up yoga shoes on any given day, is beginning to suck a little.
There are good parts to the long distance romance. It is endlessly exciting walking through an airport terminal and seeing him for the first time in weeks, causing me to pounce on him. There are hidden notes I find from him after he has left, and trips planned to meet up in other places. Of course, these things also come with not seeing him for weeks at a time, leaving once we've been together just long enough for him to adjust to my bed hogging, and not being able to cook together while drinking delicious wine and debating the yumminess vs. grossness of just about every food item that isn't meat and cheese.
Because he is brave and because he gets roughly 142 days off from work each year, he is taking a trip to a possible living destination for the both of us. I am not as brave, and also, use all possible time off to visit him, so I have sent him a list of places to go check out and a run down of important things to consider. I am a little bit crazy about my living situation. Like most women, things like closet space and bathroom loveliness are important when househunting, but I also have certain aesthetics that I just refuse to put up with, and some that I would prefer so much that I would live in a worse neighborhood to enjoy. He is armed with a camera and the knowledge that I will be a brat about certain things, so I think he's prepared.
Here's the thing. I have issues about co-habitating, so he may actually be looking for two different places. I've done the living together bit. I'm not so sure it's the best thing for me. While he is the most easy-going guy ever, I can be a little ummm particular about stuff, and I don't know if it's smart to go from cross-country to in-your-face-every-day. I couldn't imaging a face I'd rather be in on a daily basis, mind you. It's just that it might be a little extreme. I tried to make him just move here, next door to me, but he somehow didn't think that selling a kidney on ebay to adjust to the cost of living increase would be worth it. Hmph.
This and several other things have been occupying my mind and keeping me from writing here, because I tend to over-internalize and get freaked out about voicing big life changing stuff and any doubts I might have about that stuff. I prefer to pretend I have an awesome layer of invincibility to anything that can make me seem less than sure of all things at all times. A cloak of infallibility, if you will.
Feel free to assure me that this is all normal. Ok, thanks.
I absolutely love this from xkcd:
And it inspired me to edit it to show how my man would arrange such a drawing:
I know you may think that because I have the best man in the world this year, that I'm going to be all squishy and sentimental about Valentine's Day. Ha! I still think it's a silly, convoluted Hallmark holiday. That said, it has given Mr. Awesome a reason to come see me this weekend, so I can't be too angry about it. I'm still angry enough to link to this awesome Valentine Greeting, though. Enjoy.
You may have noticed (if you're not reading this in a feed reader) the "insert name here" in the masthead. I'm still determined to find a new name for this here corner of the interwebs, but am horribly undecided. Perhaps I shall have a contest, with the winner receiving some kind of super cool prize.
I leave you with pictures of Lillian, who has graduated from cutest baby in the world to cutest little girl, as she is now TWO years old. Luckily, the cutest baby slot has been quickly filled by her little sister, as you saw from yesterday's pictures.
The most beautiful thing? Answering a knock at my door on a random Saturday afternoon, to find my man standing there. Completely unexpected. Best. Surprise. Ever.
The best way to end a week that was quickly becoming the week from hell. I could totally get used to coming home to that sight every day.
Goodbye 2007
Posted by elizabeth at 9:34 PM Labels: blogger people, holidays, Lillian/Violet, my manFirst thing:
More Lilbitchmore Please.
Quite fitting, methinks. I've been very busy with Christmas and my birthday, all in good ways.
The short version:
Flew down to see my sister and family. Waking up on Christmas morning to see my niece experience the present-opening extravaganza, now that she is old enough to be conscious that all of that loot was for her, was priceless.
My man was sweet enough to fly down to meet me Christmas evening. We opened MORE presents, went to dinner for my birthday, met up with Falstaff and Mrs. Falstaff, who live near my sister and were lovely. Had I not felt it was necessary to avert marital disaster between my sleep-deprived sister and her hubby, we surely would have stayed too long, drank too much, and worn our welcome right out of the city. I fully expect to live up to that scenario the next time we get together.
It seems that baby Violet is not the perfectly mannered infant that her big sister was. It's only fair, really, because it turns out that the whole sleeping-through-the-night and lack-of-crying behavior? Not so normal for newborn babies. My sister is having trouble adjusting to normal baby fussiness. She's a wee bit cranky.
My man and I flew back together, and we will be ringing in the New Year here. Sweet. More on that in a moment.
We met up with F-Train and his lady for drinks and dinner last night. Rather, they met up with us, since they were cool enough to cross the river. We summarily offended pretty much everyone we encountered, while also possibly convincing them that the boys might have been the couple in the foursome. Degenerate gambling stories, beergooggle-induced sexual encounters, fetishes, and details about penis size were discussed at length. Don't ever let it be said that dining with the Bracelet and his woman isn't all about class, people.
Bob did yoga today. Seriously. Feel free to tease him at will, because I don't believe it will ever happen again.
To round out the New Year, it seems that BG will be coming to town to play superhero chef tomorrow. You can get the details of that over at his site. It should be both exciting and delicious.
I leave you with the cuteness my family's genes are capable of producing.
As the trip reports from Vegas come trickling in, I am admittedly envious that I wasn't there. I had commitments which prevented me from leaving town just now. While all of the wonderful degenerates were partying it up in Sin City, I was teaching my first actual yoga class on Sunday. It was a great experience, and while I would have loved to be in the desert deflecting backhanded compliments, I cannot regret doing this part of my yoga certification.
Because I haven't even been to a beginner yoga class in about 10 years, it was a very new experience. The only people I've taught were people with a ton of yoga experience...the people I was in teacher training with. Guiding people through poses who had no idea what those poses were supposed to look or feel like was enlightening. Then I proceeded to torture myself by taking two torturous back-to-back classes later in the day, which rendered me slightly crippled for the past two days. Sort of like I was in Vegas after all, only instead of alcohol induced dehydration and sleep deprivation, my body simply felt steam-rollered.
I implore you all for more photos, and for video, because if I couldn't be there, I could at least live vicariously. I would especially appreciate any footage in which my man is making a complete ass out of himself, because let's face it, that's pure gold.
Yes, you are getting this lovely hello! at 3:15am because
1. my man is awesome (how sick are you of reading that?) HA
2. espresso is awesome
3. i have a problem
Months ago, my espresso maker started to show clear signs of terminal illness. It was sputtering and coughing and making what can only be described as caffeine laden sludge. Sludge I forced myself to endure anyway, because hello? The caffeine. It is important to my ability to breathe and function, and certainly to have a conversation in the morning.
When it finally died the big death, I was forced to go get coffee every morning, and right now, in this ridiculous cold, it's been dreadful.
Today, as I attempted to dominate in the World Series of Sloth (WSOS), I received a mysterious package. It was big. And heavy. But it's not even my birthday yet...or even Christmas! I looked at the return address. Seeing that it was from my man, I was all atwitter. I attempted (very briefly) to guess what it could be before I tore into it. Too heavy for sex toys, too large for lingerie...hmmmm
I ripped into it to find a really adorable card a brand new, spanking yummy caffeine deliciousness maker! It's all shiny and lovely and oh shit, I have no coffee beans! Run to store...run back...thumping and whirring sounds and presto! Yummy coffee goodness in my giant latte bowl. So yummy, in fact, that I made some more. That was around 4pm.
So, here I am. Very much awake, thank you very much. So worth it.
My official first (quite early) birthday gift. Pretty hard to top that. In your face, my entire family and friends who will give me what will surely be less coveted presents! Thanks, bestest boyfriend ever.
If you are one of the lucky, who will see him in Vegas this weekend, give him a big smooch for me!
Sometimes xkcd is better at explaining stuff.
Nobody can give a grandfatherly talking-to quite like Schnozz. Even if she is a 20-something year old chick. On the NaBloPoMo whining:Four days to dry those sissy tears and pull yourself up by your blogstraps. Four days to stop whining about some imaginary ennui plague like a philosophical hypochondriac and start writing some posts—the sort of posts that go on and on about whatever you did all day.
I am going to defend my little bit of whining simply by saying this: The days I was all type type type, gotta go, bye!!!...those days were not so much about the nothing to say, as much as they were about being too busy having the sex. Also drinking lots of wine. When you have to cram all of the time you'd like to spend with your awesome boyfriend into just a few days a month, the sex and the wine drinking? They take priority. I know Schnozz understands what that's like, so I'm going to go ahead and assume I get a pass. Presumptuous? Perhaps, but it's my blog. So there.
Also? I know that nobody cares what I had for lunch, but you know what? I am totally telling you what I had for breakfast, just because I know when he reads it, he's going to be so grossed out, even though it's super delicious. And even though his taste buds are mean and prejudiced against all things delicious that aren't made of cow, I like to remind him that those lips that touched all that other stuff? They kiss you. Hahahahaha. Ready for it?
Avocado, banana/mango yogurt, and raspberries. Mmmmmmmmmmm.
ninjas are badass
they make fancy food you know
don't eat the dry ice
thanksgiving was cool
lots of cocktails had by all
house full of bracelets
can't wait to slumber
the sheets still washed in his scent
will be hard to wake
We are currently hanging out before getting ready for dinner at a place that must remain undisclosed for the moment because he doesn't know where it is. I will say this. It's a badass place and not at all something he'd guess, which just makes it fun for me. Perhaps if I come home sober and awake enough later, I will let you know how it goes over, but I'm guessing that will be done tomorrow.
Later!
My boyfriend and I are in the adorable wine bar just downstairs from my place, when I suddenly jolt up and ask him, "I haven't posted today, have I?" He calmly replies, "No, I don't think so". We are on a time crunch. I have, in fact, just gotten a phone call while I've been writing this, from the fabulous gay boys, that they will be here in 2 minutes to pick us up. I still have to run back downstairs and finish my delicious glass of wine.
Another reason my man is awesome? He doesn't even think it's crazy that I left him downstairs to come write this, AND he's so damn manly, he's totally cool with hanging with the fgb's.
Since Mondays are the worst days ever to post (for me), this month, during the NaBloPoMo, I shall wrap up the previous weekend using the time-honored tradition of haiku. If you would like to play along, please feel free to post yours in the comments.
boyfriend, finally!
gone too soon (as usual)
thanksgiving comes soon
the chill in the air
cannot break through the sweatshirt
it smells warm, like him
my spot on the couch
naps here are so delicious
dead arm? so sorry
dial-a-shots tried
some people need booze on hand
next time, i suppose
I bet you thought I would forget about posting today, since it's almost midnight. Well you thought you were right but guess what? You AREN'T, because here I am, posting.
Somehow, my man has turned me from an insomniac to a narcoleptic, because I just woke up from my 3rd nap of the day. It's all the wine and the sex. Insomniacs out there, take heed, it is the cure. With that awesome advice, I bid you adieu. I am going to bed so I can bring him to the airport at 5am...after we have sex a few more times.
Night Night!!!
Note the (quite sudden) big fat ZERO in the baby counter over to the left. My sister had her new little baby last night/early this morning. She was 5lb 12oz, which is little, but over a pound and a half bigger than her big sister, Lillian was when she was born. My sister claims she doesn't look anything like Lillian, but I will find out later today, because that baby was so smart, she decided to be born exactly the day I'm coming to visit. Brilliant way to try to be the favorite niece. I'm very excited to see her and my sister, and of course, Lillian, who has been practicing all kinds of impressive new words for me, including "baby Vi", which is so adorable, I might squeeze her face off.
In case you haven't figured it out, I must warn you...there will be many pictures.
On a completely unrelated note...check it out. He's back. Thanks to the brilliant minds over here for the push.
October adventures
Posted by elizabeth at 4:33 PM Labels: family drama, Lillian/Violet, my man, sistaIt seems impossible that it's been almost a year since that picture in the masthead was taken. My niece is so grown up since then, and I am going to get to see her next weekend, along with my pregnant sister, who, if she loves me, will have niece #2 while I'm there. I will do my part by running her around, as she will officially be off of strict bed rest, and exposing her to the hilarity that only my man can bring. I'm pretty sure he may send her into a laughing fit that will spit the baby right out, such is the extent that he brings the funny.
Also, that kind of spontaneous labor would be a great distraction from him meeting my one family member I'm nervous about. He has met my dad, stepmother, sister, brother-in-law, my bestest fabulous gay boyfriend, as well as not one, but two of my exes who remain close friends. I wasn't the least bit worried about any of them. My mother...she is the one to fear. She's a little ummmm unpredictable. She is infamous for saying the following types of things to former boyfriends:
"Sure, you're cute, but I just don't trust you. You have the sort of charm that will wear off in a matter of weeks"
"If you don't treat her better, she's going to run off with someone who is better looking, more fun, and richer than you, and I'll be happy to help her"
Nice, huh? She means well, in her own crazy way, but it's still ridiculous. She wonders why she has never gotten remarried since she and my dad split...which was approximately right after I was born. Yikes.
I've tried to warn the boyfriend as best I can, but really, there is no telling how she will be. She can also be warm and lovely. It's a 50/50 sort of thing. Wish him luck.
who wrote sickeningly sweet posts about weekends away with my amazing man, I would have lots to write.
But since I'm not, I'll tell you some other stuff.
Like how I played golf for the first time. Yes, me. Badass extraordinaire...I swung large sticks at small white balls amongst throngs of other people doing the same. Considering that I've never done that before, I didn't humiliate myself, which was my only goal, really. I'm bad at sucking at stuff, even if doing something for the first time. Also, there was lots of money raised for charity. So I got to not suck while helping a good cause.
If I was that type of girl previously mentioned, I'd tell you now about a silent auction where the amazing man (also previously mentioned) made the winning bid on a week at a sweet cabin in Canadialand. There could be speculation about how romaaaaantic such a getaway would be. But there will be none of that.
Instead, I will give you the latest update on the preg-o sister. Things are status quo. Still bedresting, still hoping the little one stays put for a couple more weeks. And lest you worry that I'm obsessing over the new baby before she even arrives, and neglecting sweet Lillian, I give you this:
It's not even possible to neglect such a face, I assure you. I must admit though, that I'm curious about how she will react to the new baby in the house. I'll be there soon, maybe I'll get to see it for myself.
New York City is full of unique and strange characters. It's one of my favorite things about the city, and it's difficult to explain to people who haven't spent a lot of time amongst the weird masses.
When my man comes to town, we've developed a sweet habit of going to one really good restaurant. A complete splurge on good wine, serious food, and all around goodness is to be had. Part of the reason I enjoy this so much is that I get to witness someone who is infamous for his lack of culinary experimentation, actually eat some weird stuff. A couple of glasses of wine, and really, that stubborn steak-and-green bean-eater can be persuaded into eating all kinds of food. I don't think there's a whole lot about this area that he thinks is worth residing in all the time (except ME), but the food...it helps to make a case for how good it is around here.
This past visit, we went to Centro Vinoteca, the yummy restaurant of Mario Batali's long time protégé, Anne Burrell. The food was delicious, the wine was great, but both were overshadowed, just slightly, by one man.
As we walked into the space, we passed the spiky-haired Burrell, peering out from the open kitchen, and made our way through the crowd. As we approached, we found a spot at the semi-circular bar. Sitting smack dab in the middle was a guy in his 50's, swaying slightly in his chair, as he commanded the attention of the bartender. When she glanced our way to see what we wanted, he swiveled around, and thus, the interview began.
"Well, hello. Aren't you faaaabulous! Is this your boyfriend?"
"Yes it is"
"You lucky man! When are you going to marry this beautiful girl? You remind me of someone...Audrey Hepburn! I must buy you a drink."
It should be noted that all flamboyantly gay men, especially above the age of 40, love to compare all petite brunette women to Audrey Hepburn. So while the comparison is flattering, it's also a little bit generic in this situation. Still, he certainly had our attention, because we couldn't have avoided it if we tried. He was also extremely entertaining, so we stood, drank some wine, and listened as he told us about...pretty much everything.
Our new friend was either highly delusional or extremely wealthy and well-connected. Names were dropped, stories of rowdy celebrity parties ending in head trauma, his current HIV status (positive, if you must know)...no information was too much information. He was the world champion of sharing. He also took the time to give relationship advice, mostly to the boyfriend, who was nodding along and being forced, oh-so-gently, to agree on every point.
Even after the hostess told us our table was ready, we were finding it difficult to find enough space in the conversation to politely excuse ourselves. One story just flowed into the next, and from the looks of both the bartender and the woman trying to lead us up the stairs to our awaiting table, this was not an uncommon occurrence. He was definitely a regular.
My man is not exactly a wall flower. He has plenty to say, all of the time, and this was the only time I've seen him completely out-talked. He's also Midwestern, and therefore, insanely polite. It's one of his more charming qualities, because despite his penchant for offensive jokes and emphatic hatred of douchebaggery, when he's in a social situation, he is extremely gracious. I had to finally drag him away, thanking our eccentric bar buddy for the drink, but explaining that I was just starving. During our conversation, a cute young girl who had obviously just come from her dinner came over and said goodbye to him. We were clearly not the first friends he embraced that night.
He is a prime example of the best of New York. He was sweet and hilarious, and one of those people I can't imagine meeting anywhere else. The restaurant is a good one, and if you go there, you will almost definitely find him as a fixture at the bar. I highly recommend stopping by and having a glass of wine with him.
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