Watch this video. I'll wait. (Can't embed, please bear with me. Sorry Brian--I know big brother is watching you.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UtUI5MC9tVM
Now.
Have we all finished? That's good.
I am embarrassed to admit how much I like this band. All the stuff I have heard by them--it makes me want to prance around in my underwear. Sing loudly in the car. General jackassery as a whole.
However.
This video? It is the REASON I stopped taking drugs. Anyone reading who has been under the influence of a hallucinogen--You know what I'm talking about.
It's all happy, and calm, and green, and people are dancing and happy, and one guy is all pretty and the other one looks like a skinny version of a dude we went to HS with wearing a dumb headband, happy happy happy Lord-Of-The-Rings meets the Ewok dance party thing meets the Rainbow Gathering.
Hey! Everyone is dancing and wearing bad clothes! That man has a giant bottle of Gatorade! Those girls are going to make out! They're singing into powder horns! Why is that man wearing a headdress? That's a really creepy mask! Hooray!
Then the grandfather of Teddy Ruxpin shows up with his gorilla band, being all creepy and animatronic and one toothed, but it's not so bad. No major buzz kill, really.
But then.
A bat flies by! They harpoon the moon! Then they sacrifice it and smear it's technicolor blood all over their bodies! Hooray! Let the freak out buzz kill begin! It's a celestial blood orgy over there!
Now the Teddy Ruxpin band is creepily singing along like the horrible puppets in the Labyrinth that pulled their heads off that scared me as a kid! More dancing while covered in the moon's technicolor dreamcoat sacrifice! Now effeminate boy and HS cracked out look alike are Hagrid-ing it up, riding motorcycles through space! Oh, wait, they didn't kill the moon....they set it free, so they could BLOW IT UP.
Yeah. This? This is me on drugs. Happy happy happy happy OHMYGODTHEMOONISDEADTHOSEGOODLOOKINGPEOPLEKILLEDITNOWITSEXPLODING
IHAVETOHIDETHISISN'TFUNANYMORETHATBEARISSTARINGATME.
Can you imagine watching this while on mushrooms or acid? Good lord, you wouldn't ever come back from something like that!
Don't do drugs, kids. Like poppy weird music sung by effeminate New Yorkers instead. It's safer.
(ALL their videos are fucked up like this! Some are even worse! Get ye to youtube and look! I'm impressed.) ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XVnRzEjpUmE Good LORD! That one is an acid trip on it's own! Yeesh.)
*******************************
On a much lighter note?
If T and I ever buy a treadmill, we're getting a gaggle of them, just so we can do this. You think I'm lying.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
A day in the life
Shall I show you a night at work in pictures?
Good.
This is the pastry sheeter, cruel mistress that she is.
This is the face of my nemesis.
This is a wad (about 45-50 pounds) of shitty, 'punky'* croissant dough, which has started to proof while waiting for me in the cooler, hence the yeasty-beasty bubbles.
(*'Punky' dough: Lumpy, wet, hard to work with. Tears rather than stretches, shreds, wads up. Isn't smooth and elastic.)
This is part of the reason I hate the pastry sheeter.
That white thing is a scraper of sorts that is directly in front of the rollers that smash the dough. It SUPPOSEDLY keeps the rollers clean and free of dough, butter and other bullshit. What it typically does is pop off, crash through the rollers, and cut a swath of destruction into the dough.
This is what the dough looks like after it has been sheeted. You start with the laminated (layered with butter) wad, smash it a whole bunch, and then do what I refer to as "the flop"--you make a little dough 'hammock' of sorts in your arms (Like you're carrying your bride over the threshold) and turn quickly to the table, where you flip one end out and up so that it lands flat on the table, then quickly pull your arm out and do the same thing backwards with your other arm, so that it settles gently to the table like a sheet on a bed. You have to do it quick so the dough doesn't stretch or tear. You make the dough go from an "M" shape, with your arms at the top points, to a flat line.
Whatever.
This is what you do after you sheet the dough. This is danish dough, and I have cut most of it and shaped it. The pastries you are seeing are called "Pinwheels"--they get cooked apple slices smashed into the points.
Unrelated side-bar photo: This is the other side of the bakery (On the other side of the wall from the sink in previous photos) where the bread is made. That huge metal thing is the bread oven. Not all of it is photographed--it won't fit.
This is the finished product. Well, almost finished. These are the pastries on the cooling rack--Nothing is iced or frosted yet. Coffee cakes, bear claws, croissants, danishes, etc.
So there.....It's what I do.
Good.
This is the pastry sheeter, cruel mistress that she is.
This is the face of my nemesis.
This is a wad (about 45-50 pounds) of shitty, 'punky'* croissant dough, which has started to proof while waiting for me in the cooler, hence the yeasty-beasty bubbles.
(*'Punky' dough: Lumpy, wet, hard to work with. Tears rather than stretches, shreds, wads up. Isn't smooth and elastic.)
This is part of the reason I hate the pastry sheeter.
That white thing is a scraper of sorts that is directly in front of the rollers that smash the dough. It SUPPOSEDLY keeps the rollers clean and free of dough, butter and other bullshit. What it typically does is pop off, crash through the rollers, and cut a swath of destruction into the dough.
This is what the dough looks like after it has been sheeted. You start with the laminated (layered with butter) wad, smash it a whole bunch, and then do what I refer to as "the flop"--you make a little dough 'hammock' of sorts in your arms (Like you're carrying your bride over the threshold) and turn quickly to the table, where you flip one end out and up so that it lands flat on the table, then quickly pull your arm out and do the same thing backwards with your other arm, so that it settles gently to the table like a sheet on a bed. You have to do it quick so the dough doesn't stretch or tear. You make the dough go from an "M" shape, with your arms at the top points, to a flat line.
Whatever.
This is what you do after you sheet the dough. This is danish dough, and I have cut most of it and shaped it. The pastries you are seeing are called "Pinwheels"--they get cooked apple slices smashed into the points.
Unrelated side-bar photo: This is the other side of the bakery (On the other side of the wall from the sink in previous photos) where the bread is made. That huge metal thing is the bread oven. Not all of it is photographed--it won't fit.
This is the finished product. Well, almost finished. These are the pastries on the cooling rack--Nothing is iced or frosted yet. Coffee cakes, bear claws, croissants, danishes, etc.
So there.....It's what I do.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Gifts to myself
I'm, uh, well, quitting my job tomorrow. By quitting I mean telling my bosses that I need to get moved to days/cannot work nights any longer, period. When I called to make the 'appointment' to see one or both of them, I was told:
"Tell me what you want to talk about so we know what's up."
So I did--my schedule.
"What? You don't want to work graveyard any more? I thought you were a tough guy!"
Uhm, yeah. I thought I could do it, thought it would get easier, but it hasn't. It's killing me slowly. I know you guys are in a tough spot right now, I mean, with me being the only person on the shift, so I just thought we could start a------
"Ok, well, we will see you tomorrow at the bakery. If you're going to be staying on with us we can discuss your rate of pay."
Uh, again, I mostly just want to start a dialogue about all this so we can come to a conclusion that we're all comfortable with. I know that you told me that if there was ever a prob---
"Tomorrow, then." *Click*
That's nearly verbatim what was said.
I know my bosses and their reputations well enough to know that one of the following is going to take place.
1)They will tell me that since I have a 'bad attitude' and am not a 'team player', they no longer need my services. Fired.
2)They will try to manipulate me into staying my dangling money in front of me.
3)They will accept my statement of "Days or I quit by this date", then do nothing but make my life a living hell until that date, when I will quit.
They filled the daytime position. LIED to me. Yeah....I don't want to work for people like this.
Due to this meeting? I'm working a 13-14 hour day tomorrow. Rockin'.
**************************************************
So today (Yesterday, now) was my birthday. My mom forgot how old I am, but still sent a card, so I guess that counts for something.
Went to my cousin's gallery closing gala thing, which was pretty damn neat. His new stuff is awesome.
Uhm....I slept a lot? Took a gigantic nap when I got home? Am forcing myself to stay awake now since I have such a shitty schedule tomorrow? Sigh.
***************************************************
Watch.
Makes me think of cock rings performed this way, rather than wedding rings, which is what was intended. (Sorry, conservative members of my reading audience.)
This made my flipping day.
****************************************************
Wish me luck tomorrow. I just have to remember--no matter the outcome, only good things can come from this. Even if things do REALLY suck for a little while.
"Tell me what you want to talk about so we know what's up."
So I did--my schedule.
"What? You don't want to work graveyard any more? I thought you were a tough guy!"
Uhm, yeah. I thought I could do it, thought it would get easier, but it hasn't. It's killing me slowly. I know you guys are in a tough spot right now, I mean, with me being the only person on the shift, so I just thought we could start a------
"Ok, well, we will see you tomorrow at the bakery. If you're going to be staying on with us we can discuss your rate of pay."
Uh, again, I mostly just want to start a dialogue about all this so we can come to a conclusion that we're all comfortable with. I know that you told me that if there was ever a prob---
"Tomorrow, then." *Click*
That's nearly verbatim what was said.
I know my bosses and their reputations well enough to know that one of the following is going to take place.
1)They will tell me that since I have a 'bad attitude' and am not a 'team player', they no longer need my services. Fired.
2)They will try to manipulate me into staying my dangling money in front of me.
3)They will accept my statement of "Days or I quit by this date", then do nothing but make my life a living hell until that date, when I will quit.
They filled the daytime position. LIED to me. Yeah....I don't want to work for people like this.
Due to this meeting? I'm working a 13-14 hour day tomorrow. Rockin'.
**************************************************
So today (Yesterday, now) was my birthday. My mom forgot how old I am, but still sent a card, so I guess that counts for something.
Went to my cousin's gallery closing gala thing, which was pretty damn neat. His new stuff is awesome.
Uhm....I slept a lot? Took a gigantic nap when I got home? Am forcing myself to stay awake now since I have such a shitty schedule tomorrow? Sigh.
***************************************************
Watch.
Makes me think of cock rings performed this way, rather than wedding rings, which is what was intended. (Sorry, conservative members of my reading audience.)
This made my flipping day.
****************************************************
Wish me luck tomorrow. I just have to remember--no matter the outcome, only good things can come from this. Even if things do REALLY suck for a little while.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The meeting
I'm so tired.
On Sunday, I had to go to a meeting at my bosses house (Is that the plural of 'boss' in that situation? Boss's, or boss', seems like it should be right but doesn't look like it. Whatever.) over dinner to discuss what we are to do about the current schedule/lack of humans.
Oh, did I mention the lack of humans? Of course not. My ONLY coworker put in his 2 weeks notice, and was told the next day not to come back. But they hadn't hired anyone else, leaving....Me. ME! ALONE! to do all the work on that shift. That's 7 days of work, 12 hours a day! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Yeah.
So my manager, (the bread dude, who is my age, that I am/was apprenticing under)T and I all went over to the Victorian mansion that the boss people live in, and had a very surreal evening.
6pm: Arrive. Compliment house. Receive no response. Give wine. Receive no thank you.
6:05-6:20pm: Make uncomfortable introductions between T and bread dude. (I knew that they wouldn't be fans of one another. I rock, cause I was RIGHT.) Get weird tour of house from boss lady where she talks about all her expensive antiques and period-appropriate wall paper.
6:20pm-7pm: Sit and make uncomfortable small talk. Boss man arrives and has us touch and pet a box of furs his creepy friend brought back from Alaska. Discuss weddings, travel, and have long silences.
7pm: Dinner. Salad with still-frozen shrimp on top, dry pork, over cooked broccoli, potatoes, left over bread from bakery. Dessert is day-old pastries from bakery. I am put in my place for describing desserts to T without using the actual titles.
7:45pm-8:30pm: Discuss schedule, plans for bakery, my shift movement, hiring of new people. Boss lady chastises me for not eating all the pastries I make. Things are going fine--going to hire night person, going to move me to days, things are happy. New recipes are discussed, etc. Bread dude suddenly opens big fucking trap and says that I shouldn't be moved to days, bosses accept this. I sit with mouth open, stutter small protest, am talked over. Nearly weep.
8:45pm: Leave. Driving boss dude home as he totaled his car. Begin pseudo yelling at him for throwing me under the bus. He sits and stares at me.
8:50-9:15: Change clothes for work. Bread dude drinks a beer in my living room, makes strained small talk with T.
9:15: Drive bread dude home. More pseudo yelling. He verbally shrugs.
Then I went to work.
When I got home, I proceeded to sleep for about 19 hours. Now I am awake, and it's 9:30 in the morning. I have to work a 12 hour night tonight, come back in 5 hours later, then travel to my cousin's house to go to his gallery closing and have dinner. I will then come home on my birthday and sleep all day, because I have to work another 12-13 hour shift on Friday.
I am, to say the least, not happy.
I looked at the ads the manager boss people posted online--they aren't looking for a graveyard person. I may die. I cannot do this job. I definitely cannot do this job alone. I can, and will, quit if necessary. Then they will REALLY be fucked. But I don't want to quit because then I will feel like a failure because this is what I want to do with my life and it's technically my college and where else am I going to go and have this kind of opportunity, and this run on sentence really isn't doing me any justice and I should just remember that there is a difference between doing what you want with your life and getting fucked in the process and all I want to do is cry and admit defeat.
Seriously? I'm feeling really, really negative.
The next time my bosses or bread dude try to talk to me about this, it is not going to be pretty. I have essentially hit the wall as far as sleep goes, and it's making me so emotional and stressed. I'm losing sleep over this shit, having nightmares, and then am a zombie all 'day' when I am awake. I'm supposed to be so happy and excited about planning my wedding and 'carrying the ball' and furthering myself and all I want to do is quit this fucking job and go back to not working and being awake in the day time and functioning like a normal person.
But I wouldn't forgive myself for that. Ugh. What do I do?
On Sunday, I had to go to a meeting at my bosses house (Is that the plural of 'boss' in that situation? Boss's, or boss', seems like it should be right but doesn't look like it. Whatever.) over dinner to discuss what we are to do about the current schedule/lack of humans.
Oh, did I mention the lack of humans? Of course not. My ONLY coworker put in his 2 weeks notice, and was told the next day not to come back. But they hadn't hired anyone else, leaving....Me. ME! ALONE! to do all the work on that shift. That's 7 days of work, 12 hours a day! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Yeah.
So my manager, (the bread dude, who is my age, that I am/was apprenticing under)T and I all went over to the Victorian mansion that the boss people live in, and had a very surreal evening.
6pm: Arrive. Compliment house. Receive no response. Give wine. Receive no thank you.
6:05-6:20pm: Make uncomfortable introductions between T and bread dude. (I knew that they wouldn't be fans of one another. I rock, cause I was RIGHT.) Get weird tour of house from boss lady where she talks about all her expensive antiques and period-appropriate wall paper.
6:20pm-7pm: Sit and make uncomfortable small talk. Boss man arrives and has us touch and pet a box of furs his creepy friend brought back from Alaska. Discuss weddings, travel, and have long silences.
7pm: Dinner. Salad with still-frozen shrimp on top, dry pork, over cooked broccoli, potatoes, left over bread from bakery. Dessert is day-old pastries from bakery. I am put in my place for describing desserts to T without using the actual titles.
7:45pm-8:30pm: Discuss schedule, plans for bakery, my shift movement, hiring of new people. Boss lady chastises me for not eating all the pastries I make. Things are going fine--going to hire night person, going to move me to days, things are happy. New recipes are discussed, etc. Bread dude suddenly opens big fucking trap and says that I shouldn't be moved to days, bosses accept this. I sit with mouth open, stutter small protest, am talked over. Nearly weep.
8:45pm: Leave. Driving boss dude home as he totaled his car. Begin pseudo yelling at him for throwing me under the bus. He sits and stares at me.
8:50-9:15: Change clothes for work. Bread dude drinks a beer in my living room, makes strained small talk with T.
9:15: Drive bread dude home. More pseudo yelling. He verbally shrugs.
Then I went to work.
When I got home, I proceeded to sleep for about 19 hours. Now I am awake, and it's 9:30 in the morning. I have to work a 12 hour night tonight, come back in 5 hours later, then travel to my cousin's house to go to his gallery closing and have dinner. I will then come home on my birthday and sleep all day, because I have to work another 12-13 hour shift on Friday.
I am, to say the least, not happy.
I looked at the ads the manager boss people posted online--they aren't looking for a graveyard person. I may die. I cannot do this job. I definitely cannot do this job alone. I can, and will, quit if necessary. Then they will REALLY be fucked. But I don't want to quit because then I will feel like a failure because this is what I want to do with my life and it's technically my college and where else am I going to go and have this kind of opportunity, and this run on sentence really isn't doing me any justice and I should just remember that there is a difference between doing what you want with your life and getting fucked in the process and all I want to do is cry and admit defeat.
Seriously? I'm feeling really, really negative.
The next time my bosses or bread dude try to talk to me about this, it is not going to be pretty. I have essentially hit the wall as far as sleep goes, and it's making me so emotional and stressed. I'm losing sleep over this shit, having nightmares, and then am a zombie all 'day' when I am awake. I'm supposed to be so happy and excited about planning my wedding and 'carrying the ball' and furthering myself and all I want to do is quit this fucking job and go back to not working and being awake in the day time and functioning like a normal person.
But I wouldn't forgive myself for that. Ugh. What do I do?
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
THIS! IS! MY! BLOG!
It's my 300th post. Sorry about the title, I couldn't help myself.
Lots to cover.
-Getting moved to day shift at work. Praise your deity of choice. When done with praise, please ask for expediency. This is a good thing because:
*I will no longer work hours that are rotting me from the inside
*I will be able to have a life that does not revolve around sleeping and bitching
*I have more experience with/desire to do the sort of pastry work that is done during day shift (Cakes, tarts, tartlets, cookies, quick breads, muffins, scones, etc.
*Did I mention it's not graveyard?
*I get along famously with the girls that work during the day (Liberal agnostic baking misanthropes with potty mouths unite!)
*I can see myself working there for a long ass time (read:Career day, baby!)
*I'm tired.
I know that I am getting moved to day shift because my Gary Busy Boss told me so, but didn't give me a time frame. It would seem that the co-workers mentioned above have done some begging/demanding on my behalf, so, yeah, I'm hoping that this happens sooner rather than later.
-My mother is coming to visit next month for my bridal shower. I purchased her plane tickets today. This is, as she WELL knows, her last chance for 'redemption' (Read:Her being allowed to come to the wedding/take part in my life in any real way) in my eyes. She says that she will not be drinking at all while she is here. I'm holding my fucking breath. She keeps talking about how she is a totally different person, how I don't know how different she is, blah blah blah, well, I will believe it when I see it.
-My tightwad rich bitch aunt suddenly had a change of heart and is offering to send T and me on our honeymoon. She will pay airfare and offer up one of her houses to us. This reeks of her sons. I am nearly certain that her two sons (whom I love dearly) told her what a pain in the ass my family has been to me regarding my happiness as a whole. So, assuming there isn't a catch, T and I are off to Hawaii here in a few months.
-Speaking of travel, T and I are going to be going to NY in the fall, for this. One of my online knitting groups is renting out a flipping block of hotel rooms/a lodge, and we are going to Party party party and spend retarded money on yarn. T is coming because 1)He loves me and knows that flying kills me a little 2)We're going to be gone for a few extra days and may as well see what all the hubbub is about with NYC, as well as refresh my hatred for humanity as a whole and 3)I need someone to sherpa my yarn! (Plane tickets are AMAZINGLY cheap right now! I'm impressed. Not terribly impressed that it cost twice as much to get my mom out here than it did my friend C to get out here for my bridal shower, and she's coming from a touch (Read:A lot) farther away, but still! Cheap! It's cheaper for us to fly to NY than MT. I'm confused.)
-T got another promotion at work.
-I forgot about all the birthdays that are on the horizon (Mine? Really? Is it possible to forget your own birthday?) so I am under the gun a bit to get some shit DONE.
That's it, I think.
Lots to cover.
-Getting moved to day shift at work. Praise your deity of choice. When done with praise, please ask for expediency. This is a good thing because:
*I will no longer work hours that are rotting me from the inside
*I will be able to have a life that does not revolve around sleeping and bitching
*I have more experience with/desire to do the sort of pastry work that is done during day shift (Cakes, tarts, tartlets, cookies, quick breads, muffins, scones, etc.
*Did I mention it's not graveyard?
*I get along famously with the girls that work during the day (Liberal agnostic baking misanthropes with potty mouths unite!)
*I can see myself working there for a long ass time (read:Career day, baby!)
*I'm tired.
I know that I am getting moved to day shift because my Gary Busy Boss told me so, but didn't give me a time frame. It would seem that the co-workers mentioned above have done some begging/demanding on my behalf, so, yeah, I'm hoping that this happens sooner rather than later.
-My mother is coming to visit next month for my bridal shower. I purchased her plane tickets today. This is, as she WELL knows, her last chance for 'redemption' (Read:Her being allowed to come to the wedding/take part in my life in any real way) in my eyes. She says that she will not be drinking at all while she is here. I'm holding my fucking breath. She keeps talking about how she is a totally different person, how I don't know how different she is, blah blah blah, well, I will believe it when I see it.
-My tightwad rich bitch aunt suddenly had a change of heart and is offering to send T and me on our honeymoon. She will pay airfare and offer up one of her houses to us. This reeks of her sons. I am nearly certain that her two sons (whom I love dearly) told her what a pain in the ass my family has been to me regarding my happiness as a whole. So, assuming there isn't a catch, T and I are off to Hawaii here in a few months.
-Speaking of travel, T and I are going to be going to NY in the fall, for this. One of my online knitting groups is renting out a flipping block of hotel rooms/a lodge, and we are going to Party party party and spend retarded money on yarn. T is coming because 1)He loves me and knows that flying kills me a little 2)We're going to be gone for a few extra days and may as well see what all the hubbub is about with NYC, as well as refresh my hatred for humanity as a whole and 3)I need someone to sherpa my yarn! (Plane tickets are AMAZINGLY cheap right now! I'm impressed. Not terribly impressed that it cost twice as much to get my mom out here than it did my friend C to get out here for my bridal shower, and she's coming from a touch (Read:A lot) farther away, but still! Cheap! It's cheaper for us to fly to NY than MT. I'm confused.)
-T got another promotion at work.
-I forgot about all the birthdays that are on the horizon (Mine? Really? Is it possible to forget your own birthday?) so I am under the gun a bit to get some shit DONE.
That's it, I think.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Grasping at Straws
I am utterly exhausted. Seriously. I had forgotten what working graveyard does to me. Nausea, disorientation, dizziness, my skin breaks out, I'm crabby and bitchy, I'm depressed, I cry all the time....
So yeah, my job is going great.
They're hiring a daytime position, which makes me weep with wanting. I am certain that there is no way I will be transferred, because lord knows no one wants to work fucking nights--tons of people have quit that job for that reason. They just found someone to work nights that doesn't suck! Why transfer me?
The stuff that gets done on the day shift is more what I'm interested in doing. The day shift
I can't even type about it without crying I want it so bad. Knowing that I cannot, and will not get it, no matter what I've done (oh, and I've talked to those who need to know about it) makes me semi-hysterical with depression.
Whatever.
So yeah, my job is going great.
They're hiring a daytime position, which makes me weep with wanting. I am certain that there is no way I will be transferred, because lord knows no one wants to work fucking nights--tons of people have quit that job for that reason. They just found someone to work nights that doesn't suck! Why transfer me?
The stuff that gets done on the day shift is more what I'm interested in doing. The day shift
I can't even type about it without crying I want it so bad. Knowing that I cannot, and will not get it, no matter what I've done (oh, and I've talked to those who need to know about it) makes me semi-hysterical with depression.
Whatever.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Moistest
Some days it seems like these last three years have flown by. Other days, it seems like forever.
Either way, I wouldn't have spent them with anyone else.
Three years--so much has happened. Daft Punk was like a religious experience, the Deftones were a let down, DJ Shadow was amazing, you signed the deed on our home. We adopted some fish, I bought a new car. I quit my job, you got promoted (twice), I started down the path towards a life long goal. We went to Vegas--twice--saw Cirque de Soleil, ate a swanky french food in the Eiffel Tower, won money at the air port. My dad passed away, we learned there's a difference between the family you're born into and the family you find. We learned how to throw one hell of a party, and how to recover with grace--even if I did take a little longer to learn than you.
The good, the bad, the hilarious, the in between, you stood right next to me. When I tripped, when I faltered, when I doubted myself, you were there to remind me how strong I am, that you will always love me, no matter what happens.
You saved my life, honeybun, and you didn't even know it. Every day with you has been a blessing--there is so much joy and love in my heart (even if I don't act like it all the time) and it's there because of you. Every day you help me grow and learn to be a better, happier person. I am so very thankful for every moment of our lives together.
Happy anniversary, sweetie. Here's to three years of memories, and many, many years of laughter ahead of us. I'm looking forward to all our adventures to come--There's nothing we can't do when we're together, after all.
(Oh, and by the way? Despite all my bitching about the wedding planning--I'm really, really excited to be your wife. :) )
Either way, I wouldn't have spent them with anyone else.
Three years--so much has happened. Daft Punk was like a religious experience, the Deftones were a let down, DJ Shadow was amazing, you signed the deed on our home. We adopted some fish, I bought a new car. I quit my job, you got promoted (twice), I started down the path towards a life long goal. We went to Vegas--twice--saw Cirque de Soleil, ate a swanky french food in the Eiffel Tower, won money at the air port. My dad passed away, we learned there's a difference between the family you're born into and the family you find. We learned how to throw one hell of a party, and how to recover with grace--even if I did take a little longer to learn than you.
The good, the bad, the hilarious, the in between, you stood right next to me. When I tripped, when I faltered, when I doubted myself, you were there to remind me how strong I am, that you will always love me, no matter what happens.
You saved my life, honeybun, and you didn't even know it. Every day with you has been a blessing--there is so much joy and love in my heart (even if I don't act like it all the time) and it's there because of you. Every day you help me grow and learn to be a better, happier person. I am so very thankful for every moment of our lives together.
Happy anniversary, sweetie. Here's to three years of memories, and many, many years of laughter ahead of us. I'm looking forward to all our adventures to come--There's nothing we can't do when we're together, after all.
(Oh, and by the way? Despite all my bitching about the wedding planning--I'm really, really excited to be your wife. :) )
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