fishing for compliments

"my hair is stupid."

"suzy. it looks good. i like it like that."

"IT'S SO DUMB."

"suzy. it looks good. i like it like that."

"ugh. i hate going to restaraunts. all the waitresses are gorgeous and perfect and here i just look like a shlubber."

"oh no. not a shlubber."

"yes. a shlubber in a barf bag. yuck."

"well look at me--i haven't showered today. i'm a greaser."

"yeah, but you don't have to compete with the waitresses. there are no man waitresses at mongoli grill."

"there are no man waitresses anywhere."

"what did you say?"

"nothing."

"no, what did you say?"

"mmmmmmm nothing."

"baaaaarclaaaaayyyy..."

"it's a boy secret."

"but...just...tell me..."

"do you want to be a BOY?!"

[jen wilson took this picture]

love-sick

i'm in a romantic mood today. being sick does that to me. 

i LOVE being sick.

no, i don't like the leaky face, or the achy belly, or even the helium head. 

but.

i love how, when i got home from work yesterday, i didn't even stick my key in the lock and the door swung open, and there was barclay, and he pulled me in and gave me a hug and a hot water bottle and there was a nest of blankets on the couch and imogen heap spinning in the cd player and home-made barley soup in a nice big bowl waiting for me. still steaming. 

and i love how he carries me around and kisses my sweaty hair and wipes the mascara from under my eyes.

and i love how he just sits with me for hours on end and makes sure my hair doesn't get on my face [because it might tickle my eyes and wake me up] while i'm passed out with my head in his lap.

and i love how this morning when i woke up, i looked like a raccoon and a drowned rat and a disoriented drunk all at once and he still kissed my forehead and said, "you are such a babe."

i could maybe write an essay about how much i love being sick.

but maybe it would end up being more about how much i love barclay.

anyways. here is a very cute video to go along with my very sappy post.

oh! and a house! can't forget the house.

9.26.9

getting married is like a box of chocolates.

so i got married, and it was good.
in a superbly stellar kind of way.
most of everyone i loved was there.
some of everyone i loved did other things that day, and that's ok. i still love them.
i wore my mom's dress and got married in the same church as her and daddy and walked down the aisle to a rocket summer song i picked out for my wedding in grade 12. and then me & my new husband hit up tcby in swift current.
there's more to it than that. the last couple weeks have been completely, insanely surreal, and i'm not actually sure they happened. i would pinch myself but that might hurt, and i might wake up alone with pinch marks in my arm.
ew.
but when i've sorted everything out, i'll blog it. that's what good bloggers do. i'll post a picture or two. i'll write some stuff. we'll bond.
if anyone out there is still checking this thing after my two whole weeks of absence.
helloooo?