Getting ahead of myself.

Since I know that the next 3 days will be spent doing my Christmas shopping because the title Master Procrastinator Slacker doesn't even begin to describe me, I decided to prep my blog for January. This way when my blog says "Happy New Year" it is acceptable for a three month neglect. For some reason I don't find Halloween ghosts appropriate for Christmas yuletide cheer but better luck next time. I have always been the queen of procrastination, my 15 page school papers were never written until the night before/the morning of whichever way you want to consider it when you are up writing until your carpool gets there and you hit print. I wonder if my friends ever noticed me wearing the same outfit two days in a row? I figured since we didn't have the same classes the next day it wasn't terribly noticeable. Then I graduated and vowed I would be better at turning my assignments in now that I was paying a million dollars for my own schooling and you have to add books and supplies onto that, but no, I would always find myself finishing my art project on my lunch break since I had class in two hours. How do you grade a "self portrait" that looks somewhat like a monkey, I tried to tell my teacher that I looked that on purpose and I was trying to capture some inner artist coolness... once again, better luck next time. I can name hundreds of other incidents wherein I procrastinate to the point that it is not even funny but I will spare you the visions of what you might get when I talk about what happens when I procrastinate getting out of bed on time. Anyway, the point of this long rant is to inform you that I have outsmarted my procrastinating self by updating my blog to something appropriate for the next three months. There is a way to win.

Happy Birthday To My Main Squeeze +

Today is Nick's 24th birthday and he already received the only gift that I had gotten for him for his birthday so I feel like a complete failure. Nick's birthday always gets shoved into the back of the closet behind some large jeans I had when I went through my fat stage as a sophmore and also a sweater with fur on it that I can't bear to wear because I feel a little too Ed Hardy in it. I think that the cute Christmas background and header that should be on my blog instead of Halloween ghosts is back there too... It is because it is around crazy ThanksChristmasNewYear time where you spend the last two months of the year going through 30 tanks of gas, 5 pies, 2 sheets of brownies, 4 cartons of eggnog, 2 family houses, 100+ barrels of that tin canned cheesy/normal/caramel popcorn, two scales that crushed under your insanely disgusting increase in body weight and you haven't even reached New Years Eve yet. See, now all of the sudden we are talking about a triple holiday disaster and this is supposed to be an ode to Nick. Time to get back on track. So I give you 24 reasons my husband is better than yours.

1. He made me breakfast in bed, blueberry muffins and milk I should say, my Sunday favorite.
2. Even though he probably fears for his life that I am going to give him some awful haircut that resembles that of someone that cuts their own hair with a flobee, he lets me do it.
3. He lays on the floor to be by Shelbie when she is whiney even though it cakes his black slacks in 4 inches of dog hair that has to be vacuumed off by a vacuum with the sucking power of a supernatural black hole.
4. He always smells good. Always.
5. No matter how annoying my shrill voice that sounds like the guinea pig on G force gets, he says it's adorable.
6. He hasn't said a word about hearing me practice my weekly piano songs two hundred times before church on Sundays.
7. He is dead sexy. Booyahhh.
8. Even though they last for about 22.1 seconds, he gives wonderful back rubs.
9. He hasn't banned me from the kitchen even though any time I cook something on the stove top our entire house fills with smoke and permeates it with the scent of fajita chicken.
10. He asked me for a Christmas list even though he knew exactly what would be on it.
11. He may not admire the messes I make, but he always admires what comes out of those messes.
12. He is ok with the thousands of headbands and ribbons that assault him any time he tries to pick something up off of the bathroom counter.
13. He is a very hard worker and said this to me today, "Work is what we live for right?" I told him I had a list of better things in mind.
14. He is very dedicated and loyal. If anyone has any doubts in trusting anyone in this world, they need to meet Nick.
15. He never gives up on me, and tries to cheer me on despite the stresses he himself is under.
16. He is the best at Black Ops and will whoop you if ever given the chance.
17. He changed his shield on Xbox to pink because I told him he should to resemble me.
18. He is very clean and organized, a trait not common among the typical man.
19. He always puts the toilet seat down. Winner right here, I know. Envy me.
20. He is into staying healthy. I am into this because it means that if I play my cards right, he will outlive me by at least an hour which I am really counting on.
21. He always makes sure that I have the things I need, and even things I don't need.
22. He always protects me from the things that go bump in the night, even though it takes me ten minutes and 100 shakes to wake him up.
23. He can always come up with a random name for you on the spot like his mind has a roladex of silly words that he pieces together.
24. He loves me and Shelbie more than anything in the world even though we are a mess maker and a hair doner.

I love you babe! I hope you have a good birthday! You know in six months I will give you more gifts. xoxo.

1500+ Times Ironing and I'm Back

**Disclaimer: The title could mislead the two of you that might read this to believe that I actually did the 1500+ irons, that is not true**
I haven't blogged in what, two months? I call it a case of massive writers block as in it could almost be a joke like 'Your writers block is so fat when it sits around the house, it sits AROUND the house.' Or this one which was always my personal favorite, 'Your writers block is so fat when it saw a schoolbus it yelled "CATCH THAT TWINKIE!"' Well I am here to tell you that something finally happened to break the cycles of the 'I honestly have nothing to write about' syndrome. Are the two of you interested in knowing what finally broke the cycle? An iron. As in an iron that you iron your clothes with. Yep, this post is all about the fact that my iron died and went to iron Heaven this morning. I know, what a boring thing to blog about huh? Wrong, you know why? Because if I were to tell you that my husbands hands are on an iron as much as a fourteen year old girls are on her cellphone, I would still be light years off. Nick's iron is his constant companion, always there to smooth away the problems... in other words: cheap therapy. When I heard him yell from the hallway where he does his ironing that our iron has bit the dust, the inside of me panicked. Thoughts just flew through my head: What is he going to finish his ironing with? I should go give him a comforting hug and tell him it's in a better place. I wonder if it has run into our first ironing board yet, you know the one with the squeak that the upstairs neighbors loved. What flowers should I get for the funeral? He broke my train of thought by reminding me that we did indeed have a backup. I sighed a giant sigh of relief. Shockingly enough, we only received two irons for our wedding. I am sure this next one is going to phase out quicker than the Backstreet Boys big comeback but it was nice to know that he had a backup plan. I should more appropriately refer to it as a rebound, it's hard to get over that first true love of your iron. There is only one problem, according to Nick it smells like an old person. First my gluten free cookies taste like an old person and now the iron smells like an old person, I am beginning to see a trend. Oh well, he has his new lady iron now that fits the perfect description of a rebound; inconvenient, wired, twice the size of your old one, looks like it's straight out of the 80's, and it smells. He's going to turn out just fine.