Valentine's Day.

So I typically don't celebrate Valentine's Day. I don't protest it or have anything against society as they celebrate. My Mamaw died on February 13 a few years ago, and I had to go pick out the flowers for her funeral on Valentine's Day. Soooo. This date is usually just a sad reminder...

Knowing how Bob likes to celebrate every conceivable holiday, I participated this year and I was excited to do it for him. I struggled on what to get him, and finally decided on a man bouquet, thanks to Pinterest. His "bouquet" had duck tape, hot sauce, airplane liquor bottles, beef jerky, Big League Chew, some valentines candy, cigars, some Grizzly (to encourage his bad habit), and sock monkey.

Tangent time: So sock monkey's have kinda become our thing. I'm too lazy to see if I even explained Monkeytoes previously on this blog. When we sleep or cuddle, we grasp each others big toes with our big toes and kinda link them together. Anyway, that's where monkeytoes comes from. For his last deployment, I bought a mini baby sock monkey (nicknamed Don Juan), sprayed a shit ton of my perfume on him, and put him in a plastic bag.  So DJ went to Afghanistan, came home, and now lives in my office. ANYWAY.

He and the fuzzy butts got me candy, lily's, which are one of my fave flowers, and some Nook gift cards. It was perfect. We stayed home last night and cooked dinner. He grilled steaks and I made bang bang shrimp and we had some cheddar stuffed potatoes from the deli. After dinner, we just watched movies. It was awesome.

The fuzzy butts got involved in Valentine's day too. Here's the card they sent to their Grandma, their MP, and Bob. Oh and all of facebook, of course.

 

 

Upcoming Fight.

My Charlotte bff, Jess, recently married one of Bob's friends. Jess, Chris, and Bob have all been friends for a few years now. Jess is one of those people you just instantly love. The first time I met her I knew we'd be good friends. And we are. Her husband, Chris, is also a pilot and is gone a lot too. He and Bob have similar schedules, which means Jess and I are usually "single" at the same time.

And what do we do when we're "single" together? We go to the bar and watch football games. No lie. It's so sad, but we both love football. Usually we end up shopping or baking afterward, so it all works out. This past Sunday after the game, we spend 3+ hours in Target. At least 30 minutes of that was spent on the baking aisle and another 30 picking out wrapping paper. I don't know why. We just ended up parking on an aisle and talking about random stuff. Which apparently we did all over the store since we were in there for so long. By the time we left, security was tailing us. I assume they thought we had sticky fingers. We did not. Hmpf.

Anyway, a couple of weekends ago we ended up at the mall, where we each purchased the most amazing blankets ever. She had already received one as a wedding gift, but they were on a pretty massive sale, so she bought another (as a "gift" that she'll never actually get around to giving to anyone, but Chris doesn't need to know that).

I'm telling you... This is the blanket to end all blankets. We bought them during a $25 flash sale in store, but the full price is worth every penny. I have snuggled up to it every single day since the day I brought it home. And even better, Jack hasn't found it yet. He still molests his old regular blanket. I'm dreading the day when he realizes what I've got. It's going to be an all out fight to the death to see who will win. It's that good. Pinky promise.

Post Thanksgiving Thankfulness.

So now that Thanksgiving is over and done with, and since I missed the majority of November, here's what I've been especially appreciating this month:

1. Recipes passed down from all of my grandmothers and great grandmothers. They are so very helpful and comforting when I'm having a bad day. For example, the last week I've kept my kitchen stocked with chicken and dumplins and peanut butter rice crispies, two of my Mamaw's specialties. It's obvs been a long week.

2. Garden and Gun magazine. I like to be reminded that it's okay to be Southern and to be proud of it. I usually get picked on for my accent and the things I eat. Reading all those articles written by fine Southern peeps makes me feel a heap better, ya'll.

3. World Market. We have quite a bit of stuff in our house from there. I'd say it's my favorite store.

4. Cheese dip. Really from anywhere. And any kind.

5. My snuggly, senile, asshole of a cat, Jack. Captain Snuggles when I need him to be. Feisty when he wants to be. Independent when necessary. It's been a rough 13 years, but we've made it through together.

6. Good hair days. My hair has always been flat, straight, thin, and fine. On those rare days when the humidity is JUST RIGHT, it's not frizzy but has body. Those are great days.

7. My grandparents. They've done more for me than they ever should have. They've bailed me out, cheered me on, and loved me my whole life. As an adult, I appreciate them more than ever. They worked hard and built a business from the ground up, and now they're appreciating the life they made. They inspire me to be more financially responsible, so one day I can do for my grandkids what they've done for me.

8. My Brother Little. He's a moody little shit, but my life would be so incredibly different without him. Even though his bedroom replaced my play room, I still couldn't pick a better brother little. Because of our mutual hatred of talking on the telephone, we rarely have lengthy conversations unless I'm in Hometown. But when we do get together, boy, get ready. Those 5-6 hour talks are amazing.

9. My parents. As different as they are, they've both had a profound affect on my life and still do to this day. It seems like we're all still growing up and ever changing, but our relationships stay constant. There isn't a single second of the day that I can't pick up the phone and tell them anything in the world.

10. Bob. He's my best friend, my cheerleader, my therapist, my first thought in the morning, and my last thought at bedtime. Being together now makes all the previous years seem wasted, although we both know we learned a lot from our past mistakes and relationships. We've been married for (almost) 7 months, and even now, a whole lifetime doesn't seem long enough to be with him. I'm so excited to see what the rest of our life together holds. If the last 10 years (and few months) are any indication, it'll be full of sarcasm, love, and enough snuggling to make even the most hopeless romantic puke for days. And cheese dip. And Jack.

Me oh my oh!

So. This is a light hearted/regularly bitchy post, but please know I've been a bundle of nerves on behalf of the entire northeast. I've checked in with all the people I know and everyone is fine. I know others are not. That others have homes to rebuild and lives to restructure. I understand your road ahead. I've been there, with 13 feet of floodwaters in my house, in a city mangled by mother nature, with no idea of how to start the process. Stay strong. Move forward. Rebuild. 

We've had a cold front in North Carolina. As you've probably seen, as Sandy moved North, a cold front came in her wake. Our temperature hovered around 50 degrees today, which to me, means I need to eat spicy food. Soooo. Cajun dinner for one planned by 10am. But then I didn't want loads of leftovers and invited some friends over to help consume.

I made jambalaya and crawfish pies. And yes, I've been singing this song all gd day long. I didn't make the file gumbo, but the rest was good enough without it. So I went to Walmart to get my crawfish tails for the pies. I grabbed an onion while I was there. But guess what? No onion when I got home. This is ONE of the reasons I hate Walmart. I think they do shit like this on purpose. They put ONE EFFING ONION in a bag by itself, on the bag turn style, you think you grab everything, but leave the onion behind. It's a conspiracy I tell you.

So I left Walmart and ran by the Teeter to get pie shells. Walmart doesn't sell the minis. Got home, couldn't find the onion, went back to Teeter. In the freezing ass cold rain. Not happy. So I get home with all my ingrediences, and open the crawfish tails. CUE JACK GOING NUTS. He's a cat. Of course he loves all seafood, particularly crawfish. A result of living in Louisiana for too long, I guess. So as Jack is sprinting through our house, across the bar, and attempts to dive into the sink, I'm cooking. Mass chaos.

Dinner was great. Friends were awesome. Evening is complete.

Fetal position shaped pillow for one.

The total number of shits that Jack gives that I'm sick... Zero.

When he wants a pillow, he gets a pillow, damn it.

Fleece whore.

So I'm not sure if I've told ya'll this or not, but Jack (the Kitty) is a total ass. And no, not just your run of the mill bad kitty. No. He's a pure and total asshole. He's anal about being touched. He likes to bite, for sport. And he will scream at you for no reason. Often.

In addition to these amazing qualities, he's also a big fan of the fleece blanket. He has his very own blanket (a recent replacement, because I accidentally threw his away while moving) that we keep spread out in his very own chair. He loves to make biscuits on the fabric (aka molest it) and will camp out on it for hours on end. He only moves when there is direct sunlight shining through the windows on to the floor (where he immediately goes to "sun") and when someone is walking down the stairs (so he can try to trip them).

The other night, I was being all snuggly with my own fleece blanket in my own chair. And what does this little shit do? Propels himself into my chair no fewer that 5 times. He has HIS OWN BLANKET. Wtf?

I told my Mom about it. You can't see her last response, but she said, "But that's my grand kitteh!" Whateves, Mama. He's a shit. And a fleece whore.