Back from the dead.
So, I've been dragged back to LJ kicking and screaming. I don't have time for this. I don't want to write. I don't want to think. I just want to eat chocolate waffle cone chocolate chunk ice cream and watch How I Met Your Mother reruns.
We took the kids to the park yesterday. They played. They got wet. Monica and I have dreadful colds, the kind that make you wake up each morning feeling like you slept walked in front of a freight train during the night. Which begs the question, is "slept walked" the past tense form of sleep walking, or did I just make that up?
My fiancee is in full metamorphosis from a happy, normal, fun-loving girl into a frightening, vicious, dreadful Bridezilla. Her claws are sharp, her fangs are barred, and I try to stay clear of her immediate path. I did build a pretty cool website for our wedding: A Storybook Story. It is my single contribution to this wedding planning thing, that and my opinion on what I should wear. She vetoed my original suggestion, which was a NY Giants jersey, so we settled more into a 1920s Johnny Depp kind of thing. I'm sure I will look completely ridiculous, but ... I'm a fool in love and I really don't care, as long as she is happy.
We had a baby. He is the most wonderful, terrible little creature ever to live. More on that later.
For the most part, life has been amazing the past 2 years, except when it hasn't been, and even then, it was pretty damn great. I met Monica on LJ two and a half years ago, and the wild ride that ensued has been crazy and unpredictable, but I wouldn't change a thing. I don't deserve this life I have created, not one little bit, but don't think for a second I'd give it up, because I'd cut anyone that tried to take it away. I'm happy, I'm whole. And I'm marrying a pretty fucking amazing girl. And our kids are absolutely delightful [when they're asleep].
Have a good Sunday, I'm going to work.
We took the kids to the park yesterday. They played. They got wet. Monica and I have dreadful colds, the kind that make you wake up each morning feeling like you slept walked in front of a freight train during the night. Which begs the question, is "slept walked" the past tense form of sleep walking, or did I just make that up?
My fiancee is in full metamorphosis from a happy, normal, fun-loving girl into a frightening, vicious, dreadful Bridezilla. Her claws are sharp, her fangs are barred, and I try to stay clear of her immediate path. I did build a pretty cool website for our wedding: A Storybook Story. It is my single contribution to this wedding planning thing, that and my opinion on what I should wear. She vetoed my original suggestion, which was a NY Giants jersey, so we settled more into a 1920s Johnny Depp kind of thing. I'm sure I will look completely ridiculous, but ... I'm a fool in love and I really don't care, as long as she is happy.
We had a baby. He is the most wonderful, terrible little creature ever to live. More on that later.
For the most part, life has been amazing the past 2 years, except when it hasn't been, and even then, it was pretty damn great. I met Monica on LJ two and a half years ago, and the wild ride that ensued has been crazy and unpredictable, but I wouldn't change a thing. I don't deserve this life I have created, not one little bit, but don't think for a second I'd give it up, because I'd cut anyone that tried to take it away. I'm happy, I'm whole. And I'm marrying a pretty fucking amazing girl. And our kids are absolutely delightful [when they're asleep].
Have a good Sunday, I'm going to work.