Why K and I will never be in a jewelry commercial

Have you seen that chocolate diamonds commercial -- the one for K@y? I swear, every time I see it, it makes me laugh because that couple is nothing like K and I.

For starters, no matter why or how long I've been up, I do not look like that at 2 a.m.

And then, when the husband explains he's up at 2 a.m. because it's 2 a.m. on Christmas ... for their first Christmas as a family, I'd definitely have to make fake vomiting noises.

He hands her a chocolate diamond ring. The practical side of me would immediately wonder just how much overboard that ring was for a Christmas gift. And I'd feel like a loser for just getting him a Blu-Ray, a stupid sweater, and whatever gadget I could get him to admit he was slightly interested in.

As if that weren't enough, as the commercial closes, the husband asks if his wife thinks their baby will remember that first Christmas. She gives the sugary sweet, cheesy answer, "I know I will."

My sarcastic response would be something along the lines of: "No, dumbass! She's 6 months old!"

No, we're definitely no jewelry store commercial couple.

We're way cooler than that.

I have to tell SOMEbody

Over the weekend, we had some more friends (acquaintances, actually) announce that they're pregnant. Afterward, we girls got to talking to her asking how she was doing, and the conversation inevitably led to the planning part. Someone started talking about prenatal vitamins and how you can take them up to 2 years before you have a baby.

I remember from several years back my doctor telling me at my annual well-woman appointment that I needed to be taking a daily multivitamin to make sure I have plenty of folic acid for someday when I have a baby. It wasn't an issue then, so I didn't pay much attention.

K got me started on GNC multivitamins years ago, and I take those most days (when I remember). I hadn't realized that prenatal vitamins could be taken so early. I definitely see K and I getting ready for (or even having) kids in the next couple years, so it occurred to me that I might ought to look into those.

And there's that whole birth control pill thing. I've been on those since I was 18. I know a few women who got off the pill, immediately got pregnant, and then had miscarriages (my mom included, which worked well for me because if she hadn't had the miscarriage, I wouldn't be here!). Sometimes those just happen, and oftentimes it's nothing the mother did to cause it. However, I can't help but think that if I can do anything to help that not happen, it's a good idea.

So yesterday I brought it up with K, slowly. I mentioned the prenatal vitamins, and how you can take them up to 2 years early. Told him I was thinking I might look into those. I've got all my GNC active women's daily multivitamins, but I could do research on prenatals and see how they differ. I could start taking those soon.

And in June, when I go for my well-woman exam, maybe I'd just not renew my pills. Just to get off them for a while before we're ready for any expansion (of the family and my belly).

I softened this proposed plan with a lot of, "Not that we'd have to do anything right away ..." and "Just so we're ready when we're ready ..."

K seemed pretty quiet. I asked him how he was taking it. He was fine with it. Unphased, even.

Looks like we have a plan!

What the f*cking f*ck?!

I don't know why this occurred to me on this particular morning on this particular day, but for some reason, I realized I could probably look at my mom's FB profile, scroll through her friends list, and find the FB profile of a scumbag I wanted to rip a new one in 2005.

The scumbag I heard about the day after Christmas, when my dad accidentally told me at my favorite restaurant in my hometown that my mom had had an affair years before (I say "accidentally" because he thought I already knew. My mom had told him that she'd already told me).

So I did it. And sure enough, there he was.

There he was, smiling like the player asshole I suspected he was. A 50-something wearing a collared white shirt, unbuttoned somewhere below the cropping of the picture so his sleazy, selfish chest peaks out for the world and his poor college-aged daughter to see.

And of course he's single. And of course he's looking for friendship, dating, and a relationship. (Evidently the bastard is always looking for that. He was married when he cheated with my mom.)

I wanted to send him a message. Short, simple, but totally not sweet. Subject: "Merry Christmas." Body of messsage: "I know who you are. Just wanted to tell you I think you're a selfish, asshole scumbag."

Oh, how badly I wanted to write that message. From the moment I looked at his profile -- his sleazy, nasty profile -- I felt the blood in my heart boil. I felt the adrenaline rushing through my body with a fire I didn't realize was there. I could imagine this asshole logging on -- probably to look at trashy porn -- and seeing this message. See the color drain from his disgusting face and his bare chest. Oh, would that be nice.

Except then he'd message my mom. And then there'd be this whole dramatic spiral. My mom knows that I know because I have strongly hinted at her. We've talked about it, even. She knows exactly how I feel about it. I didn't mince any words, that's for sure.

I didn't send Mr. Sleaze a message. But I did look at his wall.

And there, in a few places sprinkled throughout his wall, was my mom. In a few places, she was actually flirting with him! (Nov 1-"So what exactly is this truth game. Didn't think you could handle the truth! lol") My mom has always been a playful person, oftentimes with members of the opposite sex. Not to say that she's slutty or a tease, but she just enjoys laughing and joking around with them. I don't think it's a bad thing in all circumstances, but this one is not in that group. You do not flirt with a man you once had an adulterous affair with. Especially since I'm pretty sure her current husband doesn't know about this affair -- or if he does, he has no idea he knows the person my mom had the affair with.

I started typing a message to my mom with the subject "Reprimand." The message was telling her I'd seen him on her friends list, that I'd clicked on his profile and seen her messages on his wall. That I thought it was dangerous territory and she should be careful.

But I deleted the message. I glared at his profile a little longer, and I typed this blog.

It's the drama-free route.

The boiling has lessened, but it's still there.

Taking the high road sure sucks sometimes.

Let the planning frustrations begin ...

K and I booked our flight back to TX yesterday. I'm so excited! I haven't been home since August, and even then, it was a quick, hectic trip to play maid of honor in that one wedding I didn't want to happen.

I got to see ER and meet her baby, but I didn't get to see any family members or many other friends. I haven't seen my dad, grandparents, or brother since July. I haven't seen ER or her baby (who is growing WAY too quickly!) since August. I haven't seen Heather since June.

The list of people I need to see far outnumbers the amount of days we'll be in OK & TX. So now begins the list -- who can we not leave without seeing? How can I maximize the time with my family, even though my dad and grandparents will be working the whole time?

When do I go to my mom's house (an hour from my dad's house)?

I emailed her this morning to see when my stepsisters were coming over, since one of them told me they'll be spending Christmas with their mom this year. My mom's response:
Not sure when the girls are coming. Didn't realize they were spending Christmas with their mom this year since they did last year. Seems like [husband] and I spend alot of Christmas' alone. Am thinking we might start going somewhere that week since it's just the two of us anyway. 

Groan. Let the guilt trip begin.

I'll be annoyed about it for now, but I'm sure as hell not letting it ruin my trip!

It's all in the perspective

I'm having a bit of blog envy right now. Strangely enough, it all started on FB. I read a comment someone posted on a friend's (OK, an ex-bf's) wall, and it led me to Google, which led me to a blog. The blog was my ex's high school girlfriend. I remember his stories about her. She seemed kind of fascinating. Her blog totally proved that she is.

She's lived in Texas and in England, both to write greeting cards (how cool is that?!). She's witty and seems to be so full of life. And she's a talented photographer. She is now living in Miami studying photography. (I would kill to study photography.)

A few weeks ago, one of my very favorite bloggers, GFF, posted about Blog Envy. I'm sure it's something we've all felt. Someone else seems so much freer, so much cooler, so much smarter, more talented, funnier ... Well, Miss TX/England/Miami (much like GFF, actually) seems all of those things to me. So much that I even overlooked a comment in one of her posts that mocked my beloved Oklahoma (something about actually using the words "cool" and "Oklahoma" in the same sentence).

It's definitely my fault for neglecting this blog like I have. Some days I feel too busy to get down all I need to (part of that is due to the fact I don't really tell short stories), and sometimes I feel like I wouldn't have anything nice to say, so why bother to begin with (which is why I didn't write a marathon post immediately after the run).

Miss TEM, with all her world travel and amazing photos of places I may never see, seems so much wiser and worldly. I'm definitely not worldly.

I started to feel a little down on myself ... and then I started thinking.

I'm a pretty patriotic person. I've always been that way, but it's increased more and more over the years, starting first with my love of the Fourth of July and our family reunions, then the report I did in the fourth grade on Molly Pitcher, building with my high school experience at Girls State, and rocketing to the next galaxy once I fell in love with an Army guy.

And obviously I love Oklahoma. I am so proud to be from there, and I am so proud of the reputation we Okies have as being such great, friendly people. You can talk to anyone in Oklahoma, whether you know them or not. I've had some surprising and great conversations that way. (It's taken me a long time to realize people in most other places don't do that. Not that it's stopped me from trying!)

Oftentimes people somehow know I'm from that area (and this was even before I got my necklace). It happened with a kickballer on another team (he actually wanted to guess I was from Nebraska, "or one of those nearby states," he said. For a guy born & raised in VA, he got pretty dang close!). It happened to me once when I met a new coworker in Dallas. (I asked if it was because I exuded awesomeness.)

I've had people marvel at my knowledge of state facts (doesn't everyone know their state bird, state tree, state flower, etc.?). Sometimes I actually even remind myself of the dad in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, with his ability to tie everything back to Greek culture (obviously for me it would be Oklahoma). What most people don't know is that it was leaving Oklahoma that made me love it so much. Absence definitely made my heart grow fonder.

Here in VA, I've heard comments like, "You're so from Oklahoma!" (I took that as a great compliment) and "How big is the town you're from?"(For the record, 18,000. Pretty decent size for Oklahoma.)

I may not be worldly. I might enjoy using the word "y'all" a bit too much. I will never quit trying to start up conversations with strangers at the grocery store.*

I am the all-American girl next door. A small-town Okie. A meat & potatoes girl. A butcher's daughter. A NASCAR sister. An Army wife.

My world may be smaller, but it's the perfect size for me.

*For the record, I'm not the crazy lady who mumbles to herself. I'm a fan of talking to people in similar situations. Real-life example: Scanning an aisle at the store, noticing a woman next to me doing the same. "I swear, they're out of everything today!" (No, this woman did not respond. This happened in my first few weeks of moving to Dallas. She stared straight ahead, unmoving, as though I didn't exist. I really wanted to cry.)