TMI

I was getting my monthly Brazilian bikini wax today. How nice. I'm talking to the waxer, who has waxed me several times before. She's very reserved and a little older. I use my abs to lift my head and shoulders to see how her masterpiece is coming and when I lay back down I COULD NOT STOP QUEEFING! OMG!!! THAT HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE!!! I wish Allie could have been there with me. I was like, "Whoops!" for the first 2 but then I kept laughing, which made it worse, and the waxer kept acting like nothing was happening, which was funny, so I kept laughing. And so on and so forth. I seriously could not control it. I wish I could make this stuff up.

TMI

I'm trying something new. I love oversharing. However, some people don't like to hear about the lovemaking and pooping and boogers and Brazilian waxes of my life. Cool. If for some reason someone is on my blog and does not want to read about stuff that may make you blush, I'll be posting it in white. So you'll have to highlight it to read it. So no one can get mad at me for posting information that is too personal online because in order to read it you would have to come to my site (indicator one that you have some active interest in my life) AND THEN highlight the information. Active participation, people. (For anyone who hasn't talked to me in the last 6 months, this is a direct reaction to my entire family's reaction to my wedding pictures on facebook. More accurately, the fact that John got married to me in a shirt that says "I shaved my balls for this?" and my aunts, uncles, brother, parents and cousins saw this on facebook and decided to act like John had gotten married to me while simutaneously taking a dump on a kitten, doing a line of blow off a hooker's ass, burning the American flag, and giving the finger to a bus filled with orphans. Apparently by posting the pictures I made them look at something that they didn't like, and yet they kept clicking. And talking. And clicking. It's cool, family. John didn't need to be accepted by you. It's not like his family in South Carolina has welcomed me with open arms or anything.) Ahem. Now, on to our regularly scheduled programming.

Said the flea to the fly, let us flee! Then I killed them.

I am on a mission. I HATE FLEAS. There is so much back story here. Deep breaths.
Cujo is on monthly flea control. The way this works is the fleas have to bite him to get the poison, which kills the fleas in a day or so and disrupts their reproductive cycle. So they still have a good 24 hours to eat his delicious blood. Since he has hair, not fur, he has less protection and the fleas REALLY wail on him. He itches and itches and and eats himself raw. I spent a good bit of money earlier this year to get the infections in his skin cleaned up. I HATE FLEAS.
Since we moved down to Columbia Cujo has occaisionally picked up fleas either from other people's houses or from doggie daycare. So I thought. SO. I. THOUGHT. We figured out this weekend that the fleas are coming from our backyard! The assault begins.
John ordered some insane pesticide online that is actually illegal in South Carolina. Take that, natural wildlife! All of the carpet inside of our house has been sprayed and powdered, along with the cloth furniture. Cujo had lots and lots of flea baths and I've washed all of our linens. I have to get them away from me!!!

I'm back!

I've been away dipping my toes in the Pacific Ocean:

I dipped my toes in the Gulf of Mexico:
Most recently, I've been sick with nasty, nasty swine flu. But I'm back! I'm blogging! YAY!!!

He will NEVER be mistaken for a local.

We are headed off to Cancun this week for my sister in law's wedding. EXCITING!!! I've been looking forward to this for months and months and months. John and I had lunch with my father in law today, who is NOT known for his Spanish skills. While asking bathroom directions in Puerto Rico, he said, "Where is the pee-ario?"
While discussing our trip today, he informed us that he would start talking like a local. "I'm going to Cancun. Cancuny, is that how they say it?"
So if you run into a man who looks like a garden gnome and he tells you he went to Cancuny, you have the backstory now.

First day of school!

I feel like Nemo in "Finding Nemo"... First day of school! First day of school! First day of school! I found out in late August that I was accepted into USC's Masters in Public Health program. YAY! I achieved this goal after months of hard work and I'm very proud of myself. I love that I'll be able to graduate with a degree that allows me to help people every day. Enrolling in school was alot less painless than I thought it would be. I was accepted late and didn't have any of my paperwork submitted when I went to orientation just 2 days ago. Now I'm all registered with the IT department, student health services, parking, bursar's office and of course being an actual student. I'm so excited! The only thing I have left to do is get my student ID. I'll be wearing a Clemson shirt for that picture. :)

I win at housewife-ing!

My favorite part of the day is making John's breakfast and lunch. He gets a fresh smoothie for breakfast and I pack his lunch and put a little note on a heart shaped post it in his lunch box every day. Last week at lunch one of John's married co-workers saw the note and said, "You get a note with your lunch? That's very...domesticated." to which John replied, "Yeah. Jealous?" The co-worker said that he was jealous and another one of John's work buddies commented, "You get a smoothie, lunch and a note? My wife is just like, Have a great day!" The additional comic element here comes from the fact that the second co-worker's wife is a professional housewife. Ha ha! I beat the pros!