It’s funny that even after almost six and a half years of marriage I’m still all about proving a point. Sure, I fully acknowledge marriage is about give and take, open honesty, and all things good. But let’s face it- we’re still women, and we don’t like being wrong.

Which means there are times in which we do silly things out of “principle” to ensure we’re always right.

Let’s begin in 2008.

When we first moved from Kuwait and into our house the previous owners left some pretty maroon curtains behind. I had my own plan for the curtains in the living room, however they were nice and I didn’t just want to get rid of them. So- Will thought they would fit nicely in his future “man room,” fill of OU crimson memorabilia and all things boy. I sort of scratched my head as to how regal curtains such as these would fit into the Room O Testosterone- but whatever.

We took them down and hung them nicely in the closet of Will’s future OU room.

And didn’t think anything else of them.

Last spring, the spring of 2009 mind you, I was in Will’s room and came across the curtains. I had intended to get them dry cleaned after taking them down but had long forgotten to do it, so I decided what better time to get these curtains dry cleaned?

I took them to my local dry cleaners that spring. The spring of 2009. I dropped them off- 4 curtains total (they were doubled up on each side of the rod) and was on my merry way.

Hmm… let’s camp out at the dry cleaners for a second. It’s somewhat necessary for the story.

To my knowledge there are only 2 dry cleaners in close proximity to me. This one, and another one. This one is what I would consider a “fancy” dry cleaners. Mainly because I’m a dork. It’s in a nice shopping center and the building is nice and the inside is nice and the people are nice, and well- it’s just nice. I feel like my clothes are properly tagged and put away and nicely cared for.

And the other one? Well it’s okay. I’m sure it’s a quintessential dry cleaners. Only, when compared to the “nice” dry cleaners, it just seems pretty dumpy. I don’t like going in there and I fear that as soon as I drop off my clothes they’re being worn my some old cougar with fuchsia lipstick.

So now that we have an understanding of the differences of my dry cleaning establishments, let’s move on.

A few days later I returned to the nice dry cleaners and paid and picked up the crimson curtains. I brought them home and put them in Will’s closet, where Will proceeded to tell me, “You know… those don’t look as thick as before. Are you sure you got all of them?”

Rolling my eyes “Yes, Will, I got all of them.”

“Are you sure? I’m telling you, I really thought these looked thicker.”

“Yes, Will. I’m sure. I wouldn’t have forgotten them.”

And then on and off for the next three days Will proceeded to make comments about how he really thought the curtains looked fuller before and how he was afraid I didn’t get all of them.

To which I continued to assure him that he was wrong, and I was right.

What’s funny about this whole scenario is that neither of us ever bothered to open the plastic bag they were wrapped in to count them.

Ha.

Anyway- about 2 weeks later, during the spring of 2009, I received a phone message from the nice dry cleaners. They had my curtains! I had in fact only picked up 2 of the 4 and I needed to get the rest! Opps. So now not only was I wrong, but I had to pick up the rest of our curtains and somehow explain to Will that he was right and I had not paid attention- despite promising that I had.

Which wasn’t going to happen.

Unfortunately, through a series of events, I never went and picked up the curtains.

And every three months or so, the nice dry cleaners (because they’re so darn friendly, of course!) called and left me messages to pick up my freaking curtains.

Only for some reason, like a bad episode of Seinfeld, the calls deterred me from going. Too much time had passed! It would be too awkward! I was “that annoying girl with the two curtains!” I just couldn’t do it. Not to mention I wasn’t going to be wrong. Let’s not forget that whole matter.

Which is funny too because at some point Will would have opened up the bag to hang those girly curtains in his man’s room only to realize he was missing two.

However, when you’re doing stupid things such as avoiding picking up curtains YOU OWN from your dry cleaners, you’re just not thinking logically.

...

Okay, so anyway-

Let’s not forget that throughout this time I still had to get my clothes dry cleaned. Only, I for sure couldn’t go to the nice cleaners! How could I show my face there? I was the weird girl with a complex that wouldn’t pick up her curtains FOR NO GOOD REASON. So, I had to resort to the sketchy cleaners.

And soon realized that I couldn’t do that for long.

And then it turned 2010.

A new year. A year of new chances. Perhaps I would pick up my curtains?

The truth is, by then I had totally forgotten about those curtains. I mean, it had almost been a year. A year!

So pathetic.

I was quickly reminded of the curtain issue yet again when I needed to get something dry cleaned. Only I didn’t and nicely laid the item to the side in my closet.

And did it again.

And again.

And again.

Until my nice little pile became a little ridiculous. Plus I’m pretty sure Will began to wonder what in the world I was doing.

“Oh sorry honey- I don’t want to risk you coming home while I’m sneaking in the curtains I swore to you were already there!”

Did I mention pathetic?

At the time it didn’t seem so awful. Only now do I realize how utterly ridiculous I was.

So, two weeks ago I got another call from the cleaners saying that if I didn’t pick up my curtains within 30 days they were going to get rid of them.

I mean, even nice dry cleaners have their limits, right? Understandably.

So I realized I was going to have to do something. I began laughing to myself over the whole entire series of events, which meant I had to share my story with someone.

My mom and sister are visiting for a couple of weeks, so I told the whole lame story to them- which made them laugh. Of course they had the same expected questions of, “Why didn’t you just get them!?” and “Didn’t you think about the fact that at some point Will would have found out there were only 2 curtains instead of 4?”

Good times.

Anyway, we had a good laugh about the whole thing and I decided that I was going to go in there and get those freaking crimson curtains. I was going to use the whole, “My phone changed and I just checked my messages recently” excuse.

You know, because that makes perfect sense.

So I was resolved to go and do it, only later that day I got a text from my sister telling me that she had beat me to the punch. Apparently my mom went and got them for me! And not only that, but that awkwardness I had feared for so long? Wasn’t there at all. My mom had used the truth, “I have been out of the country for a while,” which made me laugh. What’s really annoying is that I had already paid for the curtains! I’m so weird sometimes.

My mom had saved the day, and I really could have taken care of the whole thing an entire YEAR before, had I not been such a crazy.

The only thing that remains now is to bring them home, as they are currently hiding out in my parent’s house. After having to go through this whole rigamarole I wasn’t about to just parade them into the house, so I will sneak them in later this week.

Because that’s what crazy wives do. And they’re always right.

Always right.

Yes. I get it. My last twenty-five posts have somehow centered back to food. I clearly have a problem. I should be on Maury or Montel or The View discussing my awful obsession with frosting and dinners and celebrations that center around both.

Or maybe just the sick obsession with frosting.

I realize the food posts need to stop. However, today something happened that I simply had to share. I found myself hovering over the sink thinking, “Wow. I really don’t want to tell anyone about the shame I just experienced.”

And then five minutes later I was in the car laughing thinking, “Ahaha, I have to tell someone about this.”

So here we are.

Tomorrow is Will’s birthday. Yesterday we drove down to Will’s parent’s house to celebrate his birthday. We went to eat and afterwards Will’s mom sent us home with a dirty cake.

Heh heh. Dirty cake.

Doesn’t it just sound sleazy? Like you need to be listening to Keith Sweat or R. Kelly while you take the lid off? Or like you should be slathering it in some sort of edible oil?

Sorry for the visual. Let’s get back on track.

Anyway- dirty cake. Us. Taking it home.

We brought the cake home but didn’t have any last night. Which meant there was untouched cake in my house for more than 12 hours, which is pretty much a miracle.

In fact you may want to check page 22A of your local newspaper. I bet I’m in there.

So today for lunch I had to run to the post office to mail off my transcripts for my school application. I had already brought my lunch to work with me, so there was really no need for me to go home for lunch yet somehow I found myself getting into the car, as if on autopilot, and driving home. You know, to let Boz and Lucy out. Wink.

So I get there, let them out, and am standing around the kitchen thinking, “What am I doing here?” Knowing full well what was really going on in my mind. The cake.

So, I play with a little fire and open the fridge- and there it is.

In fact, as I opened the fridge I’m pretty sure I heard some Marvin Gaye playing in the back of the Crisper area- and as soon as I shut the fridge the music went away.

I peeked it open again, to be greeted with the same sound. Only this time I exercised some degree of willpower and got a nectarine.

Because, as we all know, nectarines are just as satisfying as chocolatey cake, yes?

I finished the nectarine and really realize I need to go back to work.

I mean that is Will’s cake! His mom made it for him! It’s meant for us to share it together in honor of his special day. What sort of sick, awful, hormonal person eats their husband’s birthday ca…

And before I could finish the word, there I was. Standing over the sink trying to slyly carve out a tiny piece of dirty cake so that Will would never know someone sampled it before he did. Only the tiny sliver soon became about half a cup.

Wow.

An all time low, I thought to myself.

So what was I to do!? I couldn’t let Will know I was such a selfish awful wife!

Think, Brittny, Think!

Ahaha!

If you’ve ever had dirty cake, you know that it’s topped with whip cream.

So, in my genius, I went to the freezer and pulled out our gigantic tub of Cool Whip.

Because, as you know, every two person household has a costco size bucket of Cool Whip in their house.

I went to work, almost artist-like, filling in the “tiny” hole I had created, and spreading the oreos overtop.

Brilliant.Before I knew it- Tada! Good as new. Like I never ate a giant hole through Will’s birthday cake.

So now I don’t feel so much like a heel. Now I simply feel like I need to spend all week at the gym.

I made myself laugh, so I figured I’d share the moment with you all.

Happy Monday!

You simply eat the whole thing so as to ensure there are no jagged edges to haunt you in your sleep.

My MIL made me my annual double decker strawberry birthday cake and brought it up yesterday afternoon.

It’s not just any strawberry cake.

It’s pretty much the best strawberry cake I’ve ever had. It has crushed up real strawberries in it and everything. It’s delicious. And it’s fruit. So it’s healthy.

I shared my cake with the family yesterday- cutting four nice sized slices.

It left a little more than half after that.

Then Will and I, being incredibly slothful and fat, had another generous piece each after our evening walk last night.

So then there was less than half.

Then I came home for lunch today.

And started “evening out” the cake.

A sliver here. A cut there.

You know… to even it out.

Two giant “even-ing out” slices later and there were just two nice size pieces left.

Fat.

Then I came home from work.

Went for an hour long walk outside.

And came home and killed the rest.

Two pieces.

By myself.

After already eating like literally half a cake in a 24 hour span.

I’m pretty sure that type of gluttony is outlawed any other time except for your birthday week. 

Hi!

So it’s somewhat late, I’ve had a long day, and I’m sleepy (read: boring). However, I wanted my first “real” post in half a year to be a little different so I made a few boring videos!

My face is hilarious in this one.

And because I feel really bad for being such a terrible blogger and friend I wanted to embarrass myself as a peace offering. Please excuse the fly-aways, sausage fingers, and giant zit.

Yes, I was there.

We drove down to Dallas Friday afternoon to cheer on the Sooners- and subsequently watched them lose on Saturday. Sure, I could talk offense with you, or Sam Bradford, but really? Why waste a good internet space?

My point exactly.

Perhaps the biggest travesty is the fact that I didn’t even get a fried snickers out of the whole ordeal. I seriously anticipate those things like a junior high boy encountering his first set of junior high girl lips.

Seriously. I LOVE. LOVE. LOVE those things.

And once a freaking year I get the opportunity to have them. And I missed it this year. All because I didn’t get one before the game and we darted out of there after the stupid Sooner loss. Can I blame this on them?

Let’s.

So can we just move on? I had this whole cutesy post in my mind about Rivalry Week, but with the loss (and lack of fried snickers) I think it’s best to tuck it away for next year.

Assuming we win.

Moving on.

If I recall correctly I promised you guys a B-Love moment, yes?

So last Friday the group I work directly with went out to lunch. In addition to “the group,” the vice president of our section as well as the director, program manager, and my boss accompanied us. So, although it was a casual lunch there are still certain things that just aren’t appropriate to discuss over grilled fish with the VP, you know?

To set it up, to the left of me is my coworker that I work most closely with. Directly in front of me is our director- and on one side of him is the VP, and on the other is the program manager.

So everyone is talking, no big deal, and somehow the conversation goes to dancing. Who knows how, and really it’s irrelevant. It gets mentioned that none of us (the girls at the table- one being my boss and the other being the person sitting right next to me) danced at the Christmas party last year. My boss and coworker friend quickly remind everyone at the table that they did in fact dance at the Christmas party.

I, however, did not.

See, I have very strict rules about dancing. Rules perhaps I will share with you all in another post. Rules that include never, ever dancing at work functions.

I live by these rules and they cannot be broken.

Anyway- it is because of these rules I did not dance at the Christmas party.

That and no other reason.

“Brittny, didn’t dance,” someone said.

And then all of a sudden, with no lag in response time, with no thought of the implications of the reaction, my coworker spewed, “That’s because Brittny was drunk.”

Silence.

Mortification.

Awkwardness.

Laughter.

Hello VP of my office, director, and BOSS! Your apparent alcoholic employee will be tipping back a flask of tequila in the bathroom now.

My face got so hot and I literally started to sweat. I looked over at her and she looked at me and immediately said, “I’m so sorry! I have no idea why I just said that!”

And then for the rest of lunch that was all that was discussed.

Nice.

For the record?

So not drunk at the Christmas party. Sure I had some wine, but I was no where near inebriation. More like what I like to consider as “Brittny Plus.” But I mean the more you’re at the table swearing you weren’t drunk, the more people think that you were, you know?

”Sure we believe you. You weren’t drunk. Riiight.”

Ugh.

After the awkward laughter, and “I’m so sorrys” from my coworker, it was finally time to go.

Thank God. There are just some things you don’t want your bosses to know about you, and that? That is definitely one of them.

I can’t help but cringe every time I think about it.

As well as every time I see those people in the hall.

Can I please be sick at the Christmas party this year?

Better yet, I think we should have our own Christmas party?

Apparently I’m lots of fun.

(ha ha)

So tomorrow I’m headed to Colorado for a quick overnight trip. I think it was snowing up there earlier last week, but thankfully I just checked the weather and it looks like it will be pretty decent. How much would it suck to get stranded, right?

That’s my only news right now.

Crazy thought- but how about I try to post multiple times this week like a normal blogger!? Great idea.

Let’s cross our fingers that I don’t suck.

Boredom will make you do crazy things.

Like eat.

Or post for no good reason.

Or watch totally stupid crap on TV (Hello MTV True Life!).

Or quite possibly the worst of all-

Facebook.

I know.

How dare I speak ill of our beloved Facebook right?

Ha- don’t worry, I’m not.

Truth be told I think I’ve spent more hours on there the last month than I have my entire Facebook “career.”

Heh.

Facebook Career.

But something gets terribly skewed when you’re so.incredibly.bored and sit online for hours despite having plenty to do.

(cough- cleaning)

You start on the homepage looking at all the updates.

Then you go to your page (for the billionth time) to see who’s left you a comment.

And then you go to a few of you favorite friends’ pages and say hello, see what’s been going on etc.

And then you sit there.

Bored again.

You could clean.

Who are you kidding? You’d way rather sit in front of a computer screen than face your laundry pile.

You could go for a walk.

Eh… fresh air is overrated.

So once again you’re in front of the computer screen.

And then it happens.

You start looking at all your friend’s pages.

You begin looking at all their posts, their pictures, and their friends.

There’s no nice way to put it.

You’re facebook stalking.

The more friends you look at the crazier you get. It’s like this switch flips on and you’ve become this crazy ex girlfriend sitting outside your Facebook friend’s house waiting for them to come home from their date so you can size up the girlfriend’s car and hair and shoes.

It’s like you’ve become the creepy guy that calls your crush a million times but every time she pics up the phone and says hello you panic, chicken out, and hang up.

It’s like you’re BE FRI part of the BEST FRIENDS necklace and are watching to make sure that ST ENDS is not cheating on you.

You’re completely out of control!

Sigh…

As you can see, I’ve been way too bored the last few days. Although I don’t think I’m anywhere near the crazy ex girlfriend facebook stalker status, I must admit I’ve logged a lot of hours on that poor site. It’s like I’m studying for an MFA- and it’s not a Master of Fine Arts. It’s a Master of Facebook Activities.

Thankfully I can say I have never gotten into the whole, “So and So wants to invite you to have a drink on them! or So and So thinks you’re the 9th nicest person they know! Vote for them too!” So, I mean my Facebook activity could most definitely be far worse I suppose.

Right?

It’s like this awful drug that keeps reeling you in! You want to stop so bad. You want to stop and be a productive member of society but you’re so tempted by that high. That “one last hit” on someone’s wall…

it hurts so good.

So, I’m trying to quit.

Okay, I’m lying. I’m not trying to quit.

Although I’d be a genius if I could invent a patch for quitting Facebook.

Hmmm....

Anyway- I really need to tear myself off of the computer a little more so I can be more productive this fall.

I could take up knitting.

Or basket weaving.

Or sopapilla making.

Or maybe just learn how to spell “sopapilla.”

...

Or I could just stay on Facebook.

I could do that too.

Maybe I’ll try to quit another day. That sounds like a plan.

See you on your wall (or outside your house).

I swear I’m only kidding about the house part. I’m not a Facebook stalker.

Hey I saw that look! I’m not and you know it. Scouts honor.

<3

I locked myself out of the house this afternoon.

But wait- there’s more.

There’s always more.

I keep waiting for a time in which my bad fortune no longer follows me, however that time has yet to come and once again reared its ugly head in the form of a locked door today.

Let’s get started.

Okay. So today is Will’s birthday. Yay for Will’s birthday!

I was determined to make today great.

Which was my first mistake.

I should know by now that if I’m out to make a day great something is lurking around the corner to squash my plans.

Will I ever learn?

Work was really busy all morning and I really needed to work through lunch, however I thought it might be a good idea to run home today, check on the doggies, and grab a quick lunch- which is what I did.

As I finished my lunch I noticed it was raining pouring outside. I thought I better get an umbrella to take with me to avoid the downpour, only I realized my umbrella was in my car- and Will had my car today.

Aha! I remembered I had a random umbrella out in the garage. So- barefoot and all I ran out to the garage (closing the door behind me, of course) and grabbed the umbrella. As I went to enter the house it happened.

The door wouldn’t open.

I then began to feel a little panicky, sick to my stomach and started experincing that yucky upper lip sweat.

I pryed and jolted and yelled (you know- because yelling always unlocks bolted doors) but nothing happened.

I then got the genius idea to use a screwdriver to leverage the door between the frame.

Um, the terrible dig marks in the door frame clearly yell, “That wasn’t a good idea you freaking moron!!!”

Yeah- so don’t do that.

So then I began to get totally irrational and ridiculous. Like a mad woman. “I know, I’ll run and thrust my body against the door to force it open!”

Okay- so I didn’t really do that, but trust me- I was quite irrational nonetheless.

So… what to do, what to do…

I had a pair of nasty old tennis shoes and a pair of tacky black cheap-o flip flops.

Choices, choices.

I lifted the garage, opened my umbrella and started knocking on doors up and down my street.

In the rain.

The pouring rain.

In a pretty white dress.

A pretty white dress.

In tacky black cheap-o flip flops (I figured that went better with my dress… in that trashy sort or, “I like to dress up but have no regard for what I wear on my feet” sort of way).

No one answered.

Why would they? They were al at work- where I needed to be.

Up and down the street. Finally! Someone answered. This woman across the street had just had a baby and was home- thank God for your baby woman! It was if God allowed you to have your kid so you would be home at this exact.moment.in.time.

Okay- so maybe not, but it did feel a little like a divine moment after trudging up and down my neighborhood in the pouring rain, pretty white dress, and tacky flip flops.

Anyway- she was gracious enough to let me in and use the phone. I called Will- who was not in town today (of course!). He told me to call a locksmith and work it out that way.

Oh- and he was annoyed that I managed to lock myself out.

Happy birthday honey!

Anyway, the lady told me that she could just go ahead and take me back to work so that I wouldn’t have to wait for a locksmith and pay for him to come out. I thought it was so nice of her to offer. I have very nice neighbors. I graciously accepted, took my tacky flip flops, got in her car and went back to work.

As we rode back I realized that there were a few bad things I had failed to think through when deciding not to call the locksmith.

1. My purse was in the truck, totally exposed for all the world to see and steal.

Genius Brittny.

Will tells me time after time, “Brittny- bring your purse inside and don’t leave it in the car!” And for once in my life he was so very right (actually, he’s always right about this one...). My freaking locked house was beyond safe at this point. I could most certainly confirm all doors were locked! Sigh…

Then there were the doggies.

The doggies stay in a kennel all day long because you may remember they’re quite naughty and cannot be trusted to roam around the house all alone.

Just recall this post or this one or this one.

Good times.

Anyway- they’re bad doggies and cannot be trusted.

And I had left them in the house.

All alone.

Home alone doggies.

To roam free.

And chew my wood.

And the shoes I was wearing as of 11:30 this morning and should have been wearing as I was riding to work.

I could just imagine what was happening to my house.

What a mistake to leave them out!

Sigh…

Will loved finding that out.

Oh- and I didn’t tell him. I just let him come home and be surprised.

Surprise! Happy birthday!

Anyway… it’s been quite a day.

Will picked me up from work and I felt back because I had to have him drive me to get his cake oh- and I had intended to get his birthday card on the way home too. Opps.

So- there you have it.

There’s probably a ton more I’m leaving our and need to share but Will wants me to watch “Dating in the Dark” tonight because this guy on his favorite sports talk radio was talking about how funny it was.

I think it’s weird.

But hey- it’s his birthday, and I did leave our kids home alone today.

Oh- and locked myself out.

Let’s not forget that one.

Genius. 

Or Agony.

But really- aren’t they one in the same?

Oh- and sorry to all you auditors out that that may read this. I know it’s your job and it’s helpful to us and all that crap- but seriously?- audits suck.

And I’m sure you hear that all the time.

P says I should be glad I’m having a work audit and not a life audit. She says scientologists have life audits or something like that.

Is that true?

I’m pretty sure I would fail a life audit.

It would go something like this:

Have you been diligent to stay below your alloted fat and calorie intake on a daily basis?

(silence)

Have you helped old ladies across the street?

(silence)

Have you read all the Harry Potter books?

(silence)

Have you read any of the Harry Potter books?

(silence)

Have you made sure not to daydream about famous actors such as Orlando Bloom or James Franco?

(silence)

Do you know who the Secretary of Agricultural Relational Studies and Law is? (ha ha)

(silence)

Yeah… pretty sure I would fail a life audit. Although, I thought of a ton of freaking hilarious questions that may have come up during this life audit of mine- only to avoid you guys thinking I’m a total wack-o I kept it mild.

So, there you have it. Getting audited- but thankfully not life audited.

Hope you guys are having a good week!

1. I bought a shirt the other day from The Gap that Will doesn’t know about. In fact- it was only $5 but I still gave it to Rachel to hold until our next gym date. I’m a dork and have no idea why I did that. Perhaps because we’re going through Dave Ramsey’s course and I felt a little guilty? (yes- a freaking $5 shirt. What a crazy.) Anyway- I figured it was a good confession to share.

2. I saw someone I work out at the same gym with at Walmart this afternoon. I secretly LOVE that I ran into someone that works out at the same place I do- especially when I’m having a good hair day and look put together. I.look.beyond.awful. when I go to the gym, so I always feel Ace when I run into someone who has seen me sweating all over myself (you know- sweat dripping from every nook and cranny, red puffy face, veins popping...)- and then sees me “normal.” Trust me guys- I’m a scary sight on gym mornings.

3. I ate fried alligator today. Really- I did.

4. I did end up bringing a bottle of “water” with me to the wedding weekend extravaganza. It turned out to be a good decision.

5. I found out this afternoon that someone I work with was a stripper to pay his way through college. This in and of it self is sort of hilarious- to find out someone you have a professional relationship with used to wear textured and colored thongs and probably had some sort of signature “move."However, what makes it even more hilarious is how totally out of character it is for this person- a very cerebral, brainiac. Not the stripper type at all. Anyway- my confession is that everytime I saw him this afternoon I couldn’t stop laughing. I literally had to excuse myself from an office he was in today because I thought I might snort trying to keep myself from laughing. Good times.

Anything you need to share?

P:I just read your blog. I’m pleased to hear you were wearing underwear.

Me:Yeah- I was just going to direct you there. It was bad. I felt all dent-y and fat all day.

P:Believe me he wasn’t looking at that. He hasn’t seen young a** like that in 30 years. You just gave him his Father’s Day early.

***

Coworker:You should have just played it off and talked about it- making everyone else uncomfortable too! You should have been all, “Hey Mother-in-law- I didn’t mean to leave you out! I guess you need to see too!” and then pretend to lift your skirt.

HA HA

Yeah- I can just imagine how that would have went over with Pat.

Fun times. Just thought I’d share because both these comments cracked me up.

Watching “Jon and Kate” right now. I think they’re announcing their divorce tonight. I know we’re outsiders looking in, and we only see a portion of their life, but anybody have opinions on this situation?

More to come <3