full length skydiving

Things I've learned from the following video:

1. My teefers are WHITE. Like blinding. And to think, that stupid dental hygenist told me I needed a whitening procedure. Who the eff are you missy?
2. I also talk with my bottom lip hangin low. I mean, I knew I smiled with both the uppers and lowers, but dayum. No need to speak with those suckers too.
3. A cone hat does not make me look pretty.
4. Husband looks badass in his suit. Meow.
5. 70's porn music is hot. Okay, not really. 
6. Mister Britain himself needs to get a better mic. I'm grateful, however. At least you aren't subjected to the eff bombs and pants shitting comments. We'll have to edit those out for my 5 year old niece at Christmas.

daddy is a douche

I have been internally struggling with something for a few days now and what better outlet to bitch than this here blog. Ya'll have been there with me through a lot, so why not continue to share. And lets just admit it, mmmkay? The Christmas cheer and Suzy sunshine bits need a little spice right? What better place to find passive aggressive filled tirades than KLaw's spot.

Remember last year when I posted about my 'father' sending me a ridiculous Mickey Mouse birthday card for my 29th birthday?  Well, karma came and bit me in the ass this year. Maybe I shouldn't have complained at all. Maybe I should have taken the gesture as it was and at least be grateful that he remembered.

You see, I haven't seen my 'father' since I was 15 and that last visit was probably forced by means of obligation. He was never really in the picture after he and my Mom split when I was 6, and he remarried the witch. She cast me off as the nuisance, the step child, the reminder of his past. Once she was around, I was not. I wasn't invited to their wedding. I wasn't told about the birth of their first child, my brother. I just wasn't privileged enough I suppose.

Its okay really. My Mom did a great job raising me. I didn't miss out on much not having Gregg around. When I got married, I chose not to let him know until after the wedding had taken place... and only by means of a general marriage announcement card. I didn't expect much in return. A card maybe, but even still I wasn't expecting him to say much.

He comes in and out of my life when its convenient or necessary. A few years back he contacted me to let me know he had been diagnosed with diabetes - he thought I should get tested (if he'd been involved all along, he'd know I am already suffering from a seemingly uncontrollable thyroid problem). He then found out I was moving to Florida and decided that was the time for him to put on his daddy pants and let me know how he felt about that - that I should have informed him more than a week before hand so he could have visited. *channeling my inner dr. evil.... 'RIIIIIIIIGHT"*

My birthday came and went this year with no word from Gregg. Figures. Didn't really bother me too much until I got a letter in the mail on Saturday.

The annual Meyer Christmas letter. Cheerily mentioning how my two brothers are doing so well in college. How Terry is back to work at the local elementary school after taking time off to spend with her family over the summer. How Gregg is nursing yet another back injury, but that's not stopping him from driving up to see Logan's college soccer games or Eric's starting football game. 

I have come to not expect much from that man. After 30 years of disappointment, I know that the best remedy is to not care. I do enjoy relishing in the fact that he can take no credit for the woman that I've become. The wife that I am. And the future Mother that I'll be.

I'm not sad that he didn't remember my birthday. I'm not disappointed.

I'm angry.

I'm enraged that he and his trophy wife have decided to rub their perfect family and their love for their boys in my face. Its truly disgusting how easy it was for him to send that letter, yet not acknowledge his own  and only daughter's birthday.

I'm off my soapbox, dusting off my shoulders and proceeding to now gorge myself on a Publix sub for lunch. I. Can't. Stop. Eating.

Thank you for your open ear (errr, eyes). Now that its off my chest, I do feel a bit better. 

Spanksgiving

I don't know about you, but I am literally 5 pounds heavier, with a side of ass jiggle, and two orders of stomach bloat. But it was sooo worth it.

We had an incredibly relaxing 4 days off. Thanksgiving day was spent up in West Palm Beach with Cath and Ger. Sadly, no beer coolers were harmed in the making of this Thanksgiving. A cold front came through South Florida and *gasp* it was only 75 degrees. Far too cold to take any plunges.

[we left these two lovebirds at home]

 [my two favorite in-laws]

 [that's a hella lotta food for 4 people]

 [husband getting his carving on]

I felt the need to singlehandedly take onthe leftovers. So much so that I ended up sick to my stomach before bed Thanksgiving night. True story. Kent nursed me to health with a soft back rub and a bottle of Tums. Zexy.

We hit up a few stores on black Friday, but generally decided to steer clear of the madness. Of course, we had to hit up our favorite spot for some browsing, however. And as it turns out, Home Depot was having an insane black Friday sale!

Cath & Ger bought us our first, brand new, shiney, and all around bad ass gas grill. Kent was drooling, while I was eyeing the bottle palms on sale for half off!

 

[tastes like chicken]

We had our first barbeque on Saturday night and made some insanely delicious and tasty new york strip steaks, followed up by a viewing of New Moon. Can you believe they ended it like that? I DIE!

I hope you all had a wonderful Spanksgiving! I'm off to catch up on work, hopefully find my way to a few blogs today, and blink a lot in hopes of burning off more calories.

Thankful

I am heading to Jupiter to spend Thanksgiving with my wonderful in-laws, Cath & Ger. I imagine our days to be filled with delicious food, lots of laughs, gossip, hugs, and a full floating cooler of beer in the pool. Yep - I said it, floating beer cooler. See, God really does answer prayers.

This year, I am thankful for:

... my Mom. I wish I could be there with you. You've been through a hell of a lot this year and you deserve to be surrounded with love. I'm thinking about you and missing you.

... my Sister. I have a very small immediate family and Brie is an angel. I couldn't be more proud of the woman she's becoming. She's the most caring, loving, and sincere person I know. I would do anything for her.

... my Husband. This year has been filled with a lot of triumphs and a good number of trials for us. But, I couldn't be more grateful to have my cow right by my side. He may leave his schweaty gym tshirts all over my kitchen table; he may claim to not know how to do laundry; he may also drive me nuts. But he's also my best friend. And I wouldn't want to breathe without him.

... my Lawlor's. My family. My support system. I love you guys so much. Thank you for continuing to support me as if I were your own blood.  Its comforting to know that I have a family that loves me so much.

... my friends. My friends aren't just friends. They are family. They are the ladies that would take a bullet for me. They are the ladies that offered up their uterus if Kent and I are not able to conceive again on our own. They are my support. My backbone. My biggest cheerleaders. The ones that pick up the pieces when my life comes shattering down. They are my everything.

... my job. You pay me to blog. You pay my mortgage. I heart you.

... my Miller Lite. Needs no further commentary.

... my Ryan, Mark, and Mike. I'm holding out hope that I will be able to cash in my free pass card.

... my lost baby. I know you're up there. I feel you sleeping on my pillow at night. I know that you were taken because someone needed you more. I am no longer sad; I am at peace. Just know we love you and you are never far from our thoughts and will forever be in my heart.

... my future baby. We are anxiously awaiting your arrival. I understand you have some things to attend to up there. That's okay, I understand. I'd wait an eternity for you. But if you can put in a good word for us, maybe God can send you down our way soon. We can't wait to meet you.

... my four legged kids.  Despite your daily morning marathons on my head, your doo-doo mint appetizers, and the endless hairballs, you are the cutest things ever. Mookie, you need a bath. Motsie, please stop sniffing your sisters ass. Charlie, quit tormenting your brother.

... my blog friends. It is truly remarkable. The friendships I have made from this little corner of the world is beyond anything I could have imagined. Your comments, your emails, our three ways (*snickers*) make me smile each and every day.

... my elastic waistband pajama pants. Because you make my Thanksgiving possible.

I hope everyone enjoys their Thanksgiving and spends it celebrating the ones you love. See you on the flip side (with pictures of floating beer coolers, of course).

double date

Double date with friends to celebrate our skydiving victory- my two good friends Neal and Candice.

And they brought gifts!

Neal just returned from a 2 month assignment in Al Ain, UAE (you can read all it HERE) and brought us back a gorgeous pashmina.  And of course one of my S&TC ladies, Candice (she has a blog too, but hasn't yet given me the link.... AHEM!) hooked a sista up with my very own Miller Lite bottle coozie. And its not just a regular, run-of-the-mill coozie... this thing ROCKS!

Perhaps the 4 glass of wine I consumed at dinner with these fools were the cause of my hellish day yesterday. Its never a good sign when you go to bed at 10:00pm on a Sunday and the room is spinning.

this year, i plan on not dying

Spanksgiving is nearly here! I am even more thankful this year because I actually get to enjoy it. You see, last year, at this very moment, I was dying. Laying on the cold tile floor naked, then bundled in blankets, a fever so high I was sure my eyeballs were boiling, wanting to rip my skin off sick. I am claiming Patient Zero with this whole swine flu / H1N1 sitch. I would almost guarantee I started it. Don't ask how. Just go with it mmmkay?

 [death by swine]

I was so sick on Thanksgiving Day that I actually drove myself to the ER at 6am. I walked my broken ass into the emergency room and was promptly greeted by a lovely lady, not even slightly concerned that death was looming. Couldn't she smell my insides boiling? She took my temperature... 104 degrees. At 6:00am on Thanksgiving Day.

Them: "You've got the flu."

Me: "Ya think?"

Them: "If you'd gone to the doctor two days ago, we could have stopped your symptoms."

Me: "So this means there's nothing you can do?"

Them: "Sorry."

Me: "... bitch"

Four hours later, I walked out with a prescription for 800 mg Motrin and a slap on the ass. Never. Again.

[poor Mookie, she looked how i felt]

No family. No turkey. No stuffing. No 7 layer bars. No floating in the pool with a cold Miller Lite. No sleep. No gagging watching my father in law eat the turkey neck. No Thanksgiving 2008. Sad face.

So, this year, I am determined. This will be the best Spanksgiving yet! Illness, injury, and otherwise thirsty bitches be damned. This year will be a good one.

Oh, almost forgot... I'm guest blogging over at Morgan's place today. Stop by and say hello.

And while we're on the subject of Thanksgiving and being grateful, I am incredibly thankful for my dear Summer. She is having 3 embabies implanted today - IVF #3. A few extra prayers and positive thoughts for sticky babies would surely be appreciated. 

i'm a skydiver

We did it! We jumped out of a plane at 13,500 feet.

I honestly cannot even begin to describe the feeling.

[we're skurrrred]

Nice vein in my neck, eh?

[just kidding... we were ready to rock that 'ish]

[da plane]

[getting suited up]

[isn't he magically delicious?]

[lets get this show on the road]

We met our instructors literally walking in route to the plane.

A plane, that I might add, we needed to enter via a ladder and a door made out of sliding plexiglass and looked like it had seen better days... in the Vietnam war.

Our trip was full. Kinda like sardines in a tin can.

Actually that's pretty accurate.

We're wedged in between strange men's legs.

We were strapped so tightly together that I thought if I had implants, my boobs would surely pop.

I was last in line. Which meant I got to watch my Husband fall face first out of a plane and plummet to the ground below. I'll never forget the sour pain I had in my stomach watching him fall.

Then it was my turn. My instructor didn't give me even a second to think.

Before I knew it, I was kneeling down on a 2 inch strip of foam with my nose hanging out of the plane.

He tapped me on the shoulder and gave me a shove.

I arched my back, kicked in my legs, and we tumbled out of the plane at 130 miles per hour.

60 seconds of free fall.

It was cold. Very cold.

I remember telling myself to take in this feeling. Breathe it. Live it.

The camera man and my instructor decided to play footsies (see video below).

How strange to meet up with someone mid death plummet and say hello.

My instructor pulled the cord, my neck snapped back (I might have a touch of whiplash, but its so worth it).

We coasted for nearly 5 minutes.

Doing twirls and air acrobatics.

The air was so still.

We landed and I was speechless.

It was over in what seemed like a minute, but it is an experience of a lifetime.

Take away the whole 'I'm throwing myself out of a plane" situation... the freedom that you feel, not thinking about anything other than the incredible view, the pride you feel in yourself for what you accomplished. That is indescribeable. Knowing that for those 60 seconds, you were as liberated as you have ever been. That it was just you and the clouds (and the instructor attached to your crotch).

It was unbelievable.

Below is a short video to give you an idea. We'll have the DVD within a week to include commentary, smooches, and a really bad helmet.

I am ready to go again... today.

NERDS!

Happy Weekend folks!

I've got a cat sleeping on my lap, a dog barking at paper bag blowing down the street, and a bottle of Windex giving me the stank eye. Perhaps I need to get off my ass and actually do some cleaning? No? Good. I didn't really feel like doing that anyway.

Head on over to Summer's spot for my guest post today and get your nerd on.

Stay tuned for the skydiving adventure tomorrow!

Roses & Thorns

Goo. This week has been quite hellish donchathink? Lets get to it mmmkay, and start with the bad, end with the good. Maybe that nasty bitch, Karma, will be on my side this month.

• Thorns to a long. ass. week. It punched me in the throat, slapped my ass, and made me its bitch.

• Thorns to Dr. Pepper. Since when does it give me heartburn?

• Thorns to really having to pee, but needing to get this R & T post out.
  

• Thorns to no time for gchat. I miss my Liz, Summer, Bryce, Tara, Karen, and Brooke. I promise I still love you! As you can see, my bladder is even suffering the consequences of a full plate this week.
  

• Roses to ya'll loving the Roses & Thorns and linking back to these here parts on your own blogs. Sharing the love makes me happy. Stealers do not.
  

• Roses to skydiving on Sunday. I know, I know. I've been saying it literally for about a month. However, this time it is for reals. Husband had to lie to me a few times about the reschedule date simply to keep me in the dark about the Geriatric Crew visiting. We've got our big girl (and boy) pants on, with diaper firmly secured underneath, and our cash for the video of the debauchery. Please don't judge my chub cheeks. Its not going to be pretty.
  

• Roses to sleeping in, assuming the cats will let us. Those f*ckers are up at 6:30 every morning and practice for the Daytona 500 around our bedroom every damn day.  Kent and I huddle beneath the covers & hide from the 40 sharp claws coming dangerously close to our baby makin parts.
  

• And speaking of cats, Roses to Charlie literally stealing an entire english muffin directly from the toaster oven for her mid morning snack today. Gotta give that little thing credit. She's fiesty. Husband walked into the kitchen to find the Mookie (the 50 dog) and Charlie (the 5 lb cat) fighting over the nooks and cranies. Ridiculous.
  

• Roses to gym reimbursement checks. Holler! Now Momma can buy some new shoes. Its pretty bad when you literally wear a hole in the soles big enough for your pinkie toe to make out with the carpet.
  

• Roses to my Momma. Keep that smile and positive energy. We love you.
  

• Roses to Husband's students who made me a plethora of birthday cards filled with stick figures of ladies with circles, somewhat resembling boobs, and comments telling me that I am nice, I am respectful, and I listen for the bell - apparently taken from the classroom rules sign. Props for creativity and really, really perky boobs.
  

Have a great weekend lovies!

S&TC

[Candice, Camille, Candice, & Kristen]

Yes! Another beautiful lunch with these lovely ladies.

Sex & the City lunches back in full effect ya'll!

Candice D. is totally Samantha. Dressed to the nines and quite sassy. Love her.

Camille- red hair... totally fits the part of Miranda (she's even a lawyer IRL too!)

Candice C = absolutely Carrie. Sasstastic and always lookin cute.

And then there's lil 'ole me as Charlotte. Except I'm not nearly as neurotic (anymore).

And I even got a little surprise birthday present

from the best cupcake maker in South Florida!

The moistest red velvet and chocolate cupcakes evah!

Thank you C!

Oh, and about THIS? I am NOT happy.