I would not recommend any man take this as a how-to guide on what to say to your wife.

I woke up this morning and called Jase to come lay down with me as is our usual weekend ritual. The kids were at their dads so it was just us, all alone.

He came in and began tickling my back and talking to me. Just idle chit chat nothing of note. That all changed after I got up, went to do my morning routine, then came back to bed sans panties. He kept trying to put the moves on me and I would bat him away playfully as I clawed my way towards total consciousness.

He turns to me and says, “Oh come on, honey! You coming back to bed without panties is like..um.. flashing a Vacancy sign!” All the while his hands are making flashing motions.

Here’s the thing about weekends without the kids. For some reason it turns into a total giggle fest for me. Jase is funny as hell and I get so tickled that I cannot stop laughing.

“VACANCY?! Am I a hotel that drifters can check in and out of?! Am I an hourly rate hotel or am I the freaking Ritz?!” I roared trying to talk through the peals of laughter rumbling from deep within my chest. It was over…. He had turned on my giggle box and there was no turning back.

Ever see a guy try to back peddle out of a sticky situation. Yes, bless his heart he tried. For about 15 mins he tried to ensure the morning sex that was just within his reach remained on the table. He was desperate to seal the deal.

(He is not a man wandering the desert by any means, he is however an overachiever)

Problem was I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to “negotiate” a treaty. My giggle fit was epic. He starts laughing and then we start talking a bunch of nonsense. Mostly jokes to go with the shit we were already laughing about.

Finally Jase burst out with, “Shut the hell up and let me have sex with you!!” I stopped laughing, looked at him and his crinkled, smiling eyes and promptly laughed so hard in his face I think I had a mini stroke. I couldn’t see, tears rolled off my cheeks, and my side has a permanent stitch in it. I think he laughed just as hard but I couldn’t tell you, I was too busy trying to breathe.

Eventually we both calmed down but for the rest of the day we’d  look at each other and giggle.

And for those of you that may be curious….

I was wracking my brain trying to figure out what my first post on my wonderful wife’s blog should be about when it finally dawned on me: Tell a story!!!  You see, back in the days when I actually did things of note*, I loved to tell people the stories of my (sometimes slightly embellished) adventures.  It was a way to re-capture old memories and if I could make someone laugh at the same time, it was a win-win.  So sit down, grab a snack, and let’s jump in the way-back machine to an ancient and mysterious time called 1999…

(Please note, names have not been changed, because no one in the story is innocent, however some of the events may have been changed because I was wasted and this was 11 years ago.)

I was invited by my good friend of many years, Ricki, to go to Savannah for St. Patty’s Day with him and some of his friends from college.  I met up with Ricki and his friends that were going with us: George, Eartle, and Claire.  I had met them all before at various parties thrown by Ricki’s frat, so no introductions were necessary and all five of us piled into one car and took off towards Savannah.

The drive up was fairly uneventful and we checked in to our hotel about 20 minutes outside of Savannah.  While at the hotel, everyone changed into their “holiday” clothes, which for most of us constituted a green shirt.  I say most of us for a reason, though.  You see, George had decided to be a little more festive than the rest of us.  He had gone to a thrift shop and put together a leprechaun costume!  His costume included some too-tight green pants, a white shirt, a hat of some sort, and of course a lovely green sports coat that turned out to be about two sizes too small for him.  When fully dressed, he looked kind of like Bruce Banner right before his pants and shirt would have ripped.  It was hilarious.

Now, some of you may have been insane enough to take this trip yourselves.  For those of you who haven’t, St. Patty’s Day is somewhat of a big deal in Savannah.  Though I have never been in New Orleans at the appropriate time of year, I would liken it to Mardi Gras.  It is a very large street party with WAY too many people.  It is the sort of thing that in your youth sounds like fun, and in your not-so-youth sounds like a nightmare.

After we arrived, parked, and walked forever to the event, we found it already overflowing with people.  Everywhere the eye could see were strangers in various stages of inebriation wandering aimlessly up and down the street.  In short order, we decided to get our first drinks of the evening.  There were several street vendors up and down the designated party area selling beer… and only beer… I hate beer.  This posed a problem for no one else in the group, however, and they happily got in line for their warm glasses of frothy piss.  I, meanwhile, had become considerably less enthusiastic about the entire venture.

After the others stood in the ridiculously long line to get their horribly overpriced swill, we began walking down the street.  Now, I am not at all familiar with the geography of Savannah, but as I remember it, their St. Patty’s Day celebration is on some sort of main street in some sort of downtown area next to some kind of body of water.  On this main street, there happen to be bars in which I assumed I could get a drink more to my liking.  The problem was finding some way to get into one of these bars.   They were completely packed!  When I say packed, I mean that people were spilling out into the streets trying to get into them.  Apparently, I was not the only one who didn’t care for beer.

While we were walking, we did notice that in front of some of the bars were some waitresses selling shots.  “Shots!” I thought.  “That, I can do!”  If only St. Patrick were that kind.  The only shots available were Jagermeister… I hate Jager.  Again, some of my compatriots were not so picky, and began downing shots.  I decided to bite the licorice bullet and managed to choke down one or two myself.  Now that everyone besides myself had managed to get a decent buzz, we continued our aimless trek.

On our travels we came across some young women and their boyfriends on a balcony and a horde of young men on the street below.  Expecting to see something of note, we stopped to watch.  The general feeling was that perhaps these young ladies had been teasing this crowd for a while.  The men on the street were yelling things at the girls and the girls had their hands on their blouse bottoms, slowly pulling them up as if they were about to flash the crowd.  At that moment I heard Eartle shout up at the women, “No one wants to see your fat stomach, you ugly cow!”

I stared at Eartle, aghast, and my other three friends did the same.  As would likely be expected, the boyfriends on the balcony don’t appreciate Eartle’s outburst.  In no time at all a rather vehement argument has begun between Eartle and the men on the balcony.  Now, Eartle is by no means small.  He is well over six feet and very muscular.  However, the rest of us managed to wrestle him away from the balcony before it could escalate into a brawl.  This was the first indication that the night might turn out to be noteworthy.

To Be Continued…..

Stay tuned for my accidental trip into the gay bar in search of real booze……

*Heather’s note: Screw you, Jase!!!

So my mom asked for new ornaments for this years Christmas tree. While cruising around looking for craft supplies to make Becca’s Poetry Poster, I found these:

They are so tiny. They would make Barbie look like she woke up in Ken’s t-shirt. Naughty naughty!

From Becca

From Brian, Lisa, and Riley

They live in Texas, get it?

From my sons to Papa

From Gavin

How cute are they going to be hanging from my Moms tree?

Now to put up Becca’s Poetry Poster. It was done on canvas and not poster board. It was covered in construction paper and bordered by beautiful ribbons and peppered with stickers and metal charms. The bottom has paper “Easter Grass” hanging from it so it almost looks like a hula skirt. She better get an A. I worked hard on that LMAO

To bring you a new blog post.

I swear, all I want to do anymore is sleep. The woman who could never lay down and nap midday can’t seem to stay awake.

I did get the necklace!!!! SQUEEEEE! For those of you who were all “WTF it’s ugggggly”, that is the point. I don’t want a realistic cig hanging from my neck. I might try and set it on fire. The nasty looking one all bent up is perfect to reach up and touch when I am having a bad craving. It’ll remind me why I stopped. It’s gross. LOL. Love you all sooo much.

Colored my hair last night… Didn’t realize it was a lightening formula to turn dark brown/black hair light brown. So when I put it on my medium brown hair to try and get a slightly darker brown I ended up with almost blondish hair. Not a good look. The top is so blonde I look bald like that dude in Stand and Deliver. (They dyed parts of his hair to make him look bald with a comb over.)

OK off to have a nap.

I promise I am not going to post every single day about smoking. Milestones will be talked about though. Quit Day, Day 1, First week, etc. If you guys are getting tired of cheering me on, I TOTALLY get it and won’t be offended if you don’t comment. This is more for my records than anything else. Look back and remember what I went through so I never get tempted to smoke and have to go through this again.

Completed my first 24 hours of being 100% Smober.

It was surprisingly easy! Being on the Chantix I would just get a vague feeling that there was something missing or that I was supposed to be doing something. Sometimes I would identify cigarettes as the missing link, sometimes I’d just shrug it off and carry on without trying to figure it out.

Going to go ahead and make an appt. with a new doc and pay cash to get a refill script for more Chantix. I have about 3 weeks worth left and made the mistake last time of stopping the pills too soon. Not going to give in to the fake confidence when I hit the 1 month mark like that last time.

Had to stop taking my antibiotics. They were making EVERYTHING I drank taste like liquid pennies. So gross I cannot even describe it to you without gagging.

I’m waiting til Jase wakes up tomorrow to beg him to buy me this since I am locked out of our PayPal account for being an emotional shopper. It’s the last one this artist will ever make of this design and I WANT IT. LOL. Only $15.95 with shipping. (Hint HINT Jase, if you’re reading this before I wake up. Which you will because I am putting a sign on your computer to check this out! Why yes, I am evil.) No one else buy it! I will cry if it’s not there tomorrow!

NaNaNaNaNa It’s my Quit Day too! *dances*

It’s not officially Friday yet, but I ran out of cigs and decided to get this party started.

I snuffed the life out of my closest friend tonight and I don’t feel bad about it. It’s him or me, damnit.

Tomorrow I will probably be searching the house and cars for that one loose cig that MIGHT be hanging around. It won’t be there. It never is, since I guarded those suckers with my life. I will stop and feel silly about it, then the panic will hit.

I know it’s coming.. I am prepared.

I have my Chantix and if worse comes to worse, I have nicotine gum that I haven’t used yet.

I know I joked about living in my bed but being that it’s the one place I’ve NEVER EVER smoked I might hide out in there for the first week. No memories to weaken me.

I never smoked in the kids rooms or the bathrooms but I don’t want to hang out in any of those places for a long amount of time. I only smoked in the kitchen if I was talking to my mom on the phone, but as Sheliza knows, I’m damn sure not gonna start camping out in there!

I took a picture of me and the last cigarette I will have ever smoked. It was a bittersweet Kodak moment.

Finally figured out how to use the Wordpress app to post from my phone to my blog. I may never have to leave my bed again!!! The 800 pound woman being trucked out of her house in 5 years? That’s me!! Feel free to wave as the flatbed passes you.

Hey now..hey now…My voice is back.

Weeeee!

I’m on my third day of Chantix and it’s going well. This puts my new and improved quit date as this coming Friday! You can still smoke the first week of meds so YAY. I had forgotten about the headaches but they are manageable. At least they don’t make me sick to my stomach this time. Still proud of myself by not giving up and finding an ally who could help me with this next phase. You know who you are and I loooooove you! I did as much as I could during phase one to ensure this Phase II would be more successful than my last quit attempts. I’m now out of the holding pattern or limbo to keep making strides towards my goal of being 100% smoke and soda free.

I have made 1 of those goals quite easily. Soda is GONE. I took 3 sips of a soda a few weeks ago and my stomach burned like lava so it was an easy decision to never ever drink it again. My ulcer thanks me. Water, well water flavored with Propel powder, is my new best friend. I see nothing wrong with adding a bit of flavor, hell it’s a lot more water than I was ever getting before. It’s a win, dammit.