Days of Grace: 45

I'm going to make this short and sweet because I have precisely 4.7 minutes of free time to eat my lunch, pee and get a post up today. You all are of course a much higher priority than peeing.

It's Monday, Thank You Jesus and his second cousin Rufus. I haven't seen Buffett in over a week due to scheduling conflicts, children, sporting events and a minivacation. So tonight we'll be curling up on his couch and cheering on the Packers as they completely DESTROY Brett Farve. We might also be doing a few other things. Maybe.

To give you all a little Monday giggle (as opposed to a little slap and tickle), I did have the opportunity to pee earlier this morning before all hell broke loose in my office but it was complicated. Typically you undo a belt, unbutton, unzip and drop 'em. Mine didn't drop and I was quite confused. UNTIL I remembered that I'm wearing suspenders today under my jacket. Yeah, shaddup. Work might just be destroying the few brain cells I have left. Paying the bills is a good thing. Gray matter oozing out of my ear because OMGWhyWon'tMahPantsFallDown is probably bad.

OK OK OK, my Grace Moment happened yesterday evening. All day long I could not figure out why my jeans were fitting weird. They weren't too tight. They weren't too big. They were just fitting oddly. Cupping more in the butt and less in the waist. When I took them off I noticed the tag. They were Thing1's jeans. I fit my ass into the jeans of my skinny as a bean pole 13 year old son! I have been feeling so good about myself, my body and my health lately but little reinforcements like this are like great big cotton candy kisses from midget wrestlers. In other words, if fucking rocked!

Midget 'fro, it's hawt y'all.

Who let the dogs out?

I'm supposed to be blogging about my fat (but shrinking) ass tonight but I can't.

I came home tonight to find that the gate to my back yard was wide open and my puppy was gone. I've been all over the neighborhood looking. I've knocked on doors and yelled myself hoarse. I've put up signs. I've called the police station and the humane society. Tomorrow I'll call and put ads in the papers and contact the local vets. My mom is convinced that he was stolen. I can't even begin to think about that. Who would do such a thing?!?!?!?!

I'm frustrated, scared for my Harley baby and feeling really helpless right now. Please please let the little shit eater come home tonight.

Days of Grace:40 - The Steph is an impatient bitch installment

At least I think this is what she wanted when she yelled at me YELLEDATMEEEE!!! on Facebook.

So a Gracey update you will have.

1. A BBQ with the Things, an ex-sister-in-law, the Ex, his girlfriend and her gaggle of children. I asked him to bring me out my drink but he forgot and she yelled at him saying "The woman needs her drink, Man!" It was awesome. Also, her young children got all crazy and Ex got all stressed and I had already gotten the hell out of dodge. Without doing dishes. Muwahahahaha!
2. Homemade enchiladas made by SM. No wonder I'm getting skinnier y'all, he's not feeding me all the damn time. That man can Cook! And by that I really do mean cook. Although I also mean sex but that's not what happened at the dinner table with his 3 little kids watching. I'm twisted but not that twisted... yet.
3. Watching the triplets ride the ferris wheel for the first time. They loved it. Declared it the coolest thing ever until the fun house. Then that was the coolest. Until the ginormous fall from the freaking heavens slide. But they didn't die or break anything so that's good.
4. A completely uncomplicated night of OMFG... no wait let me actually type that one out OohOhhOH Mah Fucking Gawd!!! sex and cuddling. And before you all get high and mighty on my ass, no I'm not still waiting and fighting for something. We're friends. Friends who bump uglies until one of us discovers someone else to bump uglies with. Things are much more comfortable now. Or they are until they get uncomfortable in the holy crap don't stop now kind of way. But of course, I'm a lady so I won't give you the details. Ladies don't discuss such things. For the record though, there was no hickey giving or getting.
5. My garden has borders. LawnBoy was going to come out on Thursday to dig me some trenches. In return he was going to buy me a beer on Saturday. Yeah, he sucks at negotiating. I told him that. Anyway, he couldn't make it on Thursday and I didn't really want to see him on Saturday so I assumed I was in the clear. I wasn't but I wriggled out of it anyway. So, on Sunday I got down and dirty in my own garden. I moved plants. I dug trenches. I put in pretty bricks. I got a fucking 9th degree sunburn on my virgin back skin.

And that ends this session of chill the hell out Steph. I'm tired and sunburned and still basking in the glow of amazing no strings attached sex!

How was your 4th of July? I hope you saw fireworks too!

**P.S. -- I have a date with TextGuy tomorrow. The hickey has finally faded enough that I don't need to wear a damn turtleneck. I'll keep you posted.

Wordless Wednesday - Only not really

This is what I have finally decided I want as my second tattoo. It's a Phoenix. Not a manly sharp edgy Phoenix but a soft curvy but strong Phoenix. A Bursting into flames and then rising out of the ashes in glorious beauty Phoenix - only to do it again and again and again Phoenix. A crash and burn and pick your sorry ass up and start over Phoenix.

Unfortunately, the picture is small. I'd like it to be a little bit bigger but when I blow it up it gets all blurry. I want it on my hip, with a vine wrapped around it that is descending from the other tattoo on my back (Picasso's dove with an olive branch). So, it's still a work in progress. I am not an artist and until I get this figured out the tattoo will have to wait. I suppose that is OK since I'm supposed to go with my friend Laura who isn't allowed to get a tattoo until a certain amount of time after her surgery this summer. It took me years to figure out what I wanted for my first tattoo. It had to have some kind of meaning for me. It does. This one will too.

Are any of you all bad-ass sketchy? Got ideas for me? I'll send pictures of my current tattoo to give you a better idea of where I'm coming from. HELP!

**** Also, I'm starting my detox tomorrow. I'm nervous. What if my ass shoots flames? My dog's hair might catch on fire. And while that might seem like a lovely tribute the the late Michael, I'm just not into bald dogs. Bald men? Check. Bald Pussy? Check. Bald Poop Eating Puppies? Not so much.