My boyfriend's making me do it.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

Today, Dominic asked me "Why haven't you mentioned our little site on your blog?". He didn't say why, but I know the reason. For whatever the case may be, I seem to get a lot of hits on this here stoopid writing forum. I'm thinking a lot of it is due to the little button on the bottom that lets bored people at work surf through the world of blogs. I was one of you not too long ago, so I can understand.

So for what it's worth, I present you with www.lastdyingwish.com

It's a little thing I came up with after a good friend lost her good friend, and then a few months later she also lost her dad. She's one of those people who keeps getting struck by lightning, but manages to live to tell the tale - over and over and over again. Some say that she could be jinxed, I just say she's a fighter and the girl I can talk to about vibrators.

When she first had to deal, I kept thinking, fuck - what if no one knows what my last dying wish is? What if I tell everyone what I want, but when I get hit by that almighty rock, no one remembers. Or worse, they remember something I told them when I was stoned.

Thus, I wanted a record of what my last dying wish should be. So I bothered Dominic until he couldn't take it anymore and the site was born. Anyone can enter their last dying wish and of course I ended up writing something totally silly - something that's not actually what I would want on my deathbed - but hey, it's a website that we created and we think it's kinda cool.

So check it out - for my boyfriend's sake.

Mexico: a lazy recap

I'm back from Mexico and one of the first things I did upon returning was tell all my knitter friends what a fabulous time I had. Instead of explaining everything again, I'm going to be a lazy blogger and just cut, copy and paste what I told them. Enjoy!

P.S. I posted this in a thread called THREAD OF HAPPINESS

"i had the greatest time in mexico. i got to see my good friends get married. i caught up with people i haven’t seen since college. i got to zipline. i rode in a jeep through the jungle. i saw really old things in tulum. i ran into the beach with dominic and it was so wonderful and warm and clear, with no sharks in sight. i got to relearn spanish. i bought vanilla and drank my favorite sipping chocolate that i just can’t ever find in america. i ate tripe and cheek and drooled and then pissed myself that our taco dinner cost less than $5. i laughed. i caught up on so much sleep that i’m totally renewed. out of 5 rounds of gin, i totally kicked dominic’s ass in 4 of those rounds (granted i’ve been playing since i was a baby, but still i was happy about this). i took yoga classes every day in a beautiful semi-outdoor studio with lots of spanish people and sweat my ass off - literally. i napped in a hammock. i wore a bathing suit for breakfast, lunch and dinner. i didn’t turn on anything for 6 days. i saw a little girl pee in the sand. i drank margaritas and wine and mojitos. i watched a soccer game and actually enjoyed the whole thing with a bunch of mexicans and americans who decided to live in mexico. i gave my boyfriend lots of kisses. i got a tan. i didn’t want to come home. i was (and am) very, very happy."

T-minus Kelly!

My good friend Kelly is coming for a visit. She's never been to Seattle before and even took a few days off of work to leave Detroit for a mini vacation. I'm so happy she's coming and I hope I don't annoy the shit out of her by the time she leaves.

In preparation of her arrival, I've been trying to really finish the house. Sure, all the stuff is hanging (except a pot rack) and things are in place, but it's the little things that only I care about - shit like installing a light fixture above our bed so we can stop staring at wires. You see, our landlord didn't quite finish everything in the house. We were blinded by the awesome clawfoot tub and the fancy kitchen that we didn't realize the knobs on all the cabinets don't quite fit and that every single outlet is in the middle of the wall, instead of on the bottom where they should be. The landlord's husband is even a contractor/electrician/handyman. None of the windows are done and there aren't even doors on the closets. I don't quite get how a contractor or home owner would allow this, especially when they used to live there for EIGHT YEARS.

But honestly, it's a great house. These are just tiny things that we'll keep in mind if/when we actually buy a place one day. We will make sure that the front door has a peep hole, that the house is leveled and that the light switches actually work for switching things on and off.

So yesterday, we installed the light in our bedroom so that guests, like Kelly, could have the lamp we were currently using in our room. The problem was the wires to install the light were waaaay up above the bed, and well, we are both of medium height. We could reach the wires, but not completely. It was a battle of, "ok, i'll hold this while you reach that and ooh, my arm is going numb and hey, can you see if i'm screwing that in right? oh right, you can't see anything because my arm is in your face." I actually kinda enjoyed this little back and forth. We didn't fight at all. We worked as a team. Sure, we both huffed and puffed, and at one point I tried to add more height with our breakfast tray that almost broke when I stepped on it. But in the end, we made light happen! We're officially Team Electrician. And we work for hire!

And away we goooooooo

Trying to remember everything is so hard. Especially when there were so many highlights. Here’s what my brain is retaining after a week-long vacation with the one and only, Dominic.

-After driving a few hours, we were both starving and the town Dominic turned into was my personal Hell. Every single “restaurant” was a fast food chain. I picked Subway, had my shitty sandwich and restarted my no fast food calendar (I had gone 6 years until this day).

-I wore jeans with a jean jacket.

-We bumped into someone after a hike, while waiting for the bathroom, who happens to live 2 blocks away from us. The t-shirt she was wearing tipped Dominic off and we realized how small this world really is.

-After a freak thunderstorm that derailed our original dinner plans (all of Moab was out of power) we drove 30 minutes along the Colorado River during sunset. This ride was unbelievable and ended with a family of deer grazing near the restaurant.

-Running every morning with just me, my ipod and the canyons as my view.

-Making my own cairn (little rock formations that act as trail guides).

-Driving to Arizona was pretty spectacular, except I got sick and drank so much tea that our pit stops nearly doubled. One of the stops included an Indian jeweler on the side of the highway who told us that where we were marked where Forrest Gump stopped running. We looked again, nodded in agreement, took pictures and truly felt like we on some great American road trip.

-Our Native American tour guide led us through Antelope Canyon, took our cameras straight from our hands, took a picture and would show us all, saying, “This is a beautiful picture. See. It’s beautiful. Isn’t that beautiful?” He was pretty awesome.

-Horseshoe Bend. Go. Now.

-Grilled the ranger at Glen Canyon Dam to find out what Dams are. I’m still not quite sure.

-Then, grilled burgers we bought in Moab. Elk burgers to be exact.

-Saw rocks that looked like Toadstools and plants that looked edible, but Dominic wouldn’t let me eat them.

-Drove by the Neon Graveyard. Forgot my camera and kept on driving.

-Played lots of pinball machines at the Pinball Hall of Fame. Dominic and I tied for best pinballer.

-Got massages together in Vegas and the ladies just couldn’t get enough of Dominic. Grrr!

-Sat in a Jacuzzi, sweated in a steam room and sauna and covered my eyes with cucumbers for 3 whole hours!

-Saw Ka (or what I kept calling, Ka Kaw). Glad I finally got a Circus O’Lay out of my system. Now I never have to do that again.

-Had some fine dining sushi where the wasabi cost $10! This was okay by me, since we had been eating our breakfast and lunch from our groceries for 5 days straight. We were allowed to splurge on green glob at this point.

-Gambled for a total of an hour and only lost $20 at Paigow. I’m so not a risk taker.

So there you have it. I could actually write a book about this trip. We did so damn much and saw even more! This year is already booked up, but I’m hoping next year we’ll go to New Mexico or Alaska with the same road trip mentality. We already have a Pacific Coast Highway roadtrip in the works and I’m already itching to plan it, even if it is a year away.

Here’s to happy adventures and a beautiful summer!

We're like The Beatles...

Dominic and I have this ritual that kinda just happened, where every night I tell him I'm going to bed and he follows me to say goodnight and talk for a bit. There's no tv or internet or music. It's just him and me and talking, like our dinner's but without the food. So the other day, during our week of boxes and traveling, I was pretty antsy and on edge. I just wanted everything done already and instead all I was getting was horrible headaches and too many phone calls and emails and stupid, fucking text messages. Our conversation one bedtime night happened to be about us, and how we felt our relationship was going, now especially since we were basically married to eachother for a one year lease. And here is what Dominic said,

"The way I see it, relationships are like classic bands, like The Beatles or Led Zeppelin. You know how they're good at first, but with each album they seem to get better and outdo themselves. We're only on album 2 so I think we're on our way for greatness."

For some reason I've thought about this conversation a lot, and I'm pretty sure it's the smartest thing Dominic's ever said...about us.

Dominic's stomach says so...

Tonight I made a red pepper pesto with spaghetti and then baked oatmeal cranberry cookies (mostly for my friend, which left about 5 for us). I took pine nuts, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, parsley and then roasted a red pepper, cut it up and threw that all in my blender. All while the spaghetti was boiling and the cookies were rising.

Usually the boyfriend just tolerates my meals. I cook a lot, but not the kind of stuff he likes. He wants meat pies and stews and chicken with stuff on it. I make things like quinoa salad and beet hash. Weird, hippie shit that just doesn't satisfy this hungry man who sleeps next to me.

But tonight I did the unthinkable. We ate and he immediately said, "mmmm. This is definitely one of your top 5 meals." and gobbled it up in seconds. I left him the rest of the sauce I created to do what he will for lunch tomorrow and he was actually excited by this.

Now if only I could remember what those other 4 top meals were.

Dum dum dum dum dum...

That's the tune that will be stuck in my head for the next few days thanks to my watching Close Encounters of the Third Kind for the first time.

Personally, I thought it was too long. E.T. was a way better story and had a more touching ending. This flick was just okay for me. Not a movie I want to sit through again though. Hardly anything over 2 hours is something I want to see again.

But the best part of the movie was in the very beginning when Dominic said,

"I can't remember what the little kid's name is, but I know it's something weird."

He said this like he meant it, and he did. He hadn't seen Close Encounters in years and all he remembered was that this kid's name was something crazy, unthinkable and just plain weird.

Then about 5 seconds later, when this totally bizarro-named kid ran away into the fields chasing the space ship his mother yelled out,

"BARRY! BARRY!"

Today was D Day.

It finally happened. This morning as I took out my gym clothes, I reached around for some socks. When I went into the bathroom, where I can actually see and not bother the boy who snores I realized I took Dominic's socks by mistake.

I had two options. One, was obviously take them back, dig through the darkened room and find my own girly gym ankle socks so I could run knowing I don't have a penis and I can very easily aim my pee in the toilet. But instead I went with the second option which was like eh, they're just boy socks and no one will notice.

So off I went, wearing my boyfriend's boyish looking socks. They looked old, went up to my calf and had some Reebox logo on the side. Maybe this isn't a big deal for the average person, but to me, this pretty much means we're married. I might as well stop shaving now.

The new roomie.

So we are currently living together, the boyfriend and myself. Together. In one apartment. All the time. Every day. Yep, that's us. Together.

All sarcasm aside, I think it's getting better everyday. The first week was definitely rocky mainly because I desperately needed order. I can't stand seeing shit in boxes for weeks and so I put a gun to Dominic's head on Saturday as we went through everything, and throwing out most of it.

Why do guys keep the most useless things, like hundreds of business cards of people he doesn't even remember meeting, or one of those foam fingers from a baseball game that he never actually brings to a baseball game? If only there was a secret room I never have to see, we'd put those things in there for him to scatter around the floor so he can roll around in it while eating ice cream sandwiches and watching porn.

I'm moving...again...just upstairs...with Dominic.

November 1st, Dominic and I are becoming roomies. This is part of a bigger plan, as we'd like to own a place sooner than later. He has his half of the money, and I (thanks stupid loans!) don't. So, we're moving upstairs, in the building I already live in, but it's bigger and my rent will be $650 instead of $950. And I won't be living in a basement anymore. And maybe my jade plant will come back to life because I'll have sun in my apartment again. And I'll have to part with some things. And I'll have to get stupid cable because Dominic already got it with his new plan. And we'll see if I ever sleep again with all that snoring he does. And I can't wait. And how fun this new adventure will be. And think of all the cooking we can do in our slightly bigger kitchen. And I'll actually miss seeing him in Ballard a little bit. And I really don't want to throw away that huge cash register I was given, because it's awesome and I love it. And I guess this means I'm an adult. And I guess this also means people will start to assume we're going to get married and get a dog and have a stupid baby. And I guess you are all wrong, because neither of us want that right now. And I can't wait. And I hope this means I can have more people over for dinner parties, and movie nights and knitting events.

Yay!

Ain't he the cutest?

The boyfriend told me yesterday that he was going to make me dinner that night, at my place. I had this weird premonition that he was going to make me potato laktes because Passover started this weekend and during the holidays I usually think about my grandma and talk about her endlessly. She would make what seemed like 10,000 laktes every time I would visit and then "made" me eat them all, which I gladly took on. I tried recreating her recipe once, years ago and they didn't turn out the way she made them. I thought this would always be the case, as it's hard to copy someone's vague recipe, but then I realized I just didn't add enough oil.

Note to lakte makers: Add too much oil. The laktes should be swimming in the shit.

When I got home last night, I walked into my building and smelled something amazing. Potatoes. Onions. Love. I ran downstairs, flung open the door, and half-expected to find my Grandma standing by the stove, with her makeup all done up and her hair stuck together perfectly.

Instead I found my boyfriend, sitting on the couch looking very pleased with himself. And I was pleased too. Because:

a)he made me something very special
b)he knew to get the good honeycrisp applesauce (NOT SOUR CREAM) at metropolitan market
c)the kitchen was spotless

He did make the same mistake I had made with the oil, but that's okay. I figure the next time I'll show him how it's done. Or at least buy them from a place that knows how it's done.