Monkey Poundcake

The dog and his bitch.
Originally uploaded by Monkey Poundcake.

So, it's a week and a half ago, and we're getting ready for the movers. We're taking stuff off the walls, moving the couch to the garage for donation, generally make a mess of the house. The dog seems to sense things are out of the ordinary, because he's extrememely sharp, you see. We play catch with him for a bit, then he spots this pillow. It had winded up behind the couch somehow, so, when we moved the couch, you see where I'm going. Okay, so he walks over to it, paws it a coupla times, then grabs it by the corner and starts giving it the business. And he doesn't stop, and we can't believe what we're seeing, and it's so funny that we encourage him to continue. Sometimes, he shakes it a little, just to be sure who's in charge. Oh yeah, I think we all know that pillow knows its place.

If you would like the video version, I'll be happy to email it.

Sunday,we attended a gathering at our dear friends' home - the ones who threw us a party three weeks ago. This one was in honor of another friend who is moving away. Well, we ate, we drank beers, we talked, etc. Then, we went home. I lay down and started to feel squirrelly in the tum-tum. I awoke an hour later with the abrupt feeling of distress. I went to our lovely motel bathroom and paced, wondering which demon to let out first. I decided to sit on the pot, only to let out a billowing cloud of putrid gas. As soon as I stood, I realized I was about to vomit, but there was no way I was putting my face into that cloud, so over to the sink I went and proceeded to violently empty my stomach. The sound woke up ma husband and terrified him. He came to see what the matter was, and it was painfully obvious. Well, after the sink clean-out operation, we went back to bed. That was not the end of it. I woke up 45 minutes later and rushed to the pot, just in time. My god, I get it already, whatever is in there has to come out. Does it have to hurt so much? Ring of Fire. Oh, and let's not forget the second vomit session. Yes, of course there was nothing else in there, so it was a dry-heave/bile sesh. Don't be so jealous!

The fun continued yesterday. We were supposed to be leaving town, embarking on our voyage, but the poops also befell ma husband, and we decided that driving any distance would merely be a adventure in pooping the pants, and that's not the funnest, believe me, I know, but I'll spare you the details of that for now. So, another night in a hotel. This time was spent alternately sweating and shivering under blankets for a few hours before we ventured out to the store and bought a bunch of overpriced pre-cut up melon. I started to think maybe someone dosed us. These are things we said:

"This is the best watermelon ever."
"My skin feels so funny. I'm really sensetive right now."
"I want the dog to stay right here all night, his fur feels so good on my hand."

Of course, I think if we had been, we would've had a bit more fun. I hope anyway.

And not in a good way. Man. And we have a full-service move even. Perhaps it's the combination of just having completed the one event in my life which required the most planning by me - the weirding, er, I mean wedding, trying to finish up at work, by that I mean cover my ass, and living at Motel 6 that's making it so sucky. I'm not complaining about the full-service part of the move though. That is some cool shit. These three nice people came over yesterday and were here for a little over eight hours. In that time they put ALL our stuff into 156 boxes. This excludes furniture, which doesn't get boxed. We have so much stuff! Criminy. And, in addition to so much stuff, we have two flights of stairs, which is nuts. We wrestled our huge sectional (should be illegal) sofa down one flight so Salvation Army could pick it up, and that almost killed us. I can't believe some poor folks are hauling all the stuff out tomorrow. I hope they're payed well. I will try to not do what I did yesterday to the likely rehabed by Salvation Army, Salvation Army truck driver, and offer a beer. I think that was bad.

That's how we feel. You know that great feeling when you become a regular somewhere and you're greeted warmly upon entering the establishment? Well, we found that place, and only wish we'd done so a long time ago. It's a sushi restaurant near our house owned and operated by a very nice couple. The husband/sushi chef is Japanese and his wife is Korean. Probably due to her influence, he whips up little side dishes of kimchi that he slips us in between his sushi creations. We always buy the guys beers and hang out for a while. We'd told them we were getting married, and the last time we went in before the wedding, the gave us a gift of a cold sake set. We were so touched, we got them a gift of a glass octopus while we were off wedding. We gave that to them Friday, they loved it, put it in a place of honor. We were there for three hours Friday, the waitress joked we could say we honeymooned there. We ate, we drank, we ate, we drank, they gave us free tasty treats and cold sake, we bought them beers, then they gave us roses! And said how sad they were we were moving! And want us to send a wedding picture! And faxes from time to time to say hi! And they hugged us! And said we were best customers and their friends! And that when we come back to visit, we can stay at their house! I mean, c'mon, does life get any better?

I can't believe we're leaving.

I will get two dogs, one boy dog and one girl dog. I will name them Almond Joy and Mounds. The boy will be Almond Joy, and the girl, Mounds. Because -

Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't!

Thank you.

We think this is really funny. It's happened three times now, and always leaves us laughing, and the other poor party totally chagrined.

Background - Before ma husband met me, the love of his freakin' life, he dated a woman he'd met on the internet ('cause he's like that). This woman was a teacher, they dated about four months. He totally got over her when, after traveling halfway across the country with her to visit her sister (at his own expense), she dumped him in the airport.

The first time the funny thing happened, we were in his hometown, where he'd taken me to meet the fam and friends on the occasion of his sister's wedding. He and I went out to dinner (Mongolian) and met his best bud and his wife there. There were clearly wary and while giving me the stink eye/once over, said, "So, you're the teacher, right?" To which I replied, with a smile, "No, that was the last one." We two laugh, they two blush red. The exact exchange occured the day of the sister's wedding with her mother, "So, you're the teacher, right?" "No, that was the last one." Similar, but more profound chagrinity. Well, that pretty much didn't happen again, because, as people got to know me, it was pretty clear I shouldn't have anything to do with shaping young minds. Until last night. Ma husband finally let me come to the Officers' Club on the base. He's been going on the odd Thursday since he arrived here three years ago. Why Thursdays you may ask? Because it is a super suck-ass O Club and is only open on Thursdays and the selection of beverages depens upon what the bartender can put in her car that day and bring over. Well, the same 'tender has been there the whole time, and had gotten to know ma husband. She knew of his dating exploits, and all about me. We're leaving town in 10 days, so he finally said, "Come on over, ya can't get me tossed out now!" I went, I met bartender, and she said, "So, you're the teacher, right?" "No, that was the last one!" And we're laughing and she's mortified and we all had a good time.

So, next time, get your story straight, unless you know you're talking to someone who thinks it's funny when you're wrong.

This one time, on June 4, I totally got married.

And I do love him. So much.

We had the rehearsal and dinner tonight. The rehearsal was just that. We did it twice. My MOH was ready to stab herself in the eye. But, it wasn't for her, so we did it anyway. After that, the dinner at the fancy shmancy 'rant with the open bar went very well. Thank you inlaws! I totally love you guys. I'm serious. No, I mean it. Stop, no you stop!

Did I mention I love open bars?

Well, we put 'em together and there weren't no fightin'. We did the cooking and invited da groom's parents and grandparents - numbering 8- to dinner at my parents' house. I only got the two 'rents and my one grandma isn't coming until Saturday, so it was essentially a conservative invasion at the land of the liberals. But, as I've been saying, no frettin' necessary. These are grown folk and can handle themselves fine. A good time was had by all and da groom even had to admit it was a mighy fine idear. Duh.

We are in full throttle wedding week mode and none of it is funny.