Rocky Mountains

Keith is out of town for this Valentine's Day.  This doesn't bother me, as I think Valentine's Day is ridiculous, but none the less, I put on a dress and headed out to dinner with the ladies.   We had fun.  But now it's 10:45, and I'm at home, writing a blog, still all dressed up... with no where to go.

Sooooo I'm gonna tell you a little story that I have already told fifteen times today because it's my quintessential "I love my husband because" story, and for some reason people just LOVE to swap LOVE stories on Valentine's Day.  It's short, and not gushy, so it probably wont burn your eyes.

When I first met Keith, we were working together at a local cafe.  He had a live-in girlfriend, I kind of had a too-old-for-me boyfriend (that's another story).  But eventually that boy broke up with himself for me (yeah, I said it was a story), and shortly after that Keith and his gal ended their relationship, leaving keith somewhat homeless for a few months.  And so, being the good buddy co-worker that I was, I let him stay at my house. 

Over the course of a few weeks I totally fell in love with him.  Mostly because he was goofy, totally off the wall, hilarious, creative, sweet, tattooed and most importantly 100% in love with my dog.  I didn't know I was in love with him though.  (I know, this sounds ridiculous, but it's true.) He ended up being my best friend.  We did just about everything together.  Basically attached at the hip.  

But this is what solidified our bond.

One night, when we were about to go to bed, he said to me:  "Oh! Hey, wanna see something cool?"  obviously the answer to this is... "YES."

"Come over here, look"  He proceeds to pull up the right leg of his pants and points to a purple spot on his knee.  "It's a rock, it's been in my knee since I was 6."

And now for my response:

"Oh come on. Who told you about that? That's not funny.  Dont make fun"

Obviously Keith was flummoxed.  "What are you talking about?! It's kinda cool!"

"Wait... you're serious?!"

"Yeah! It's a rock! Is that wrong?"

"No no, I just mean... I have a rock stuck in MY right knee!  That's ridiculous! We're the same!  I got mine when I was five... when you were six!"  

Some people were just meant to be together, I think. 

That's a secret I'll never tell... xoxo

Do you know what my blogging has come to?

I am watching Gossip Girl.  It started a while ago.  Keith is obsessed with it (yes, he's a dude... I don't know how I got so lucky) I've been watching five minutes here or there for a month or two, then rolling my eyes and getting annoyed, leaving the room.  I mean seriously.  This shit is bananas (b...a...n...).

Now, I haven't watched the first season (but never fear, my addictive tendencies have me heading over to the video store to get my hands on season one) so there are a lot of nuances that I'm not quite clear on while watching season two on apple TV.  

Needless to say, there's quite a lot of weird highschool drama flooding my brain right now.

Actually, scratch that.  There's a lot of weird, would-never-ever-happen-in-a-real-highschool drama flooding my brain.  You know what happens in a real highschool? None of this stuff.  Well, maybe one thing from both seasons of this show, at one school, every five years.  Not everything that happens here in each season at one school in one year.  They'd shut this school down.  Or at least get rid of 90% of the student body.  Hot Damn.

But more importantly... WHY THE HELL HASN'T ANYONE TRIED TO FIND VERONICA MARS YET?!  I mean seriously, Gossip Girl is just... always ready to blog?  I know you can post from your phone... but come on.  Someone HAS to know who she is.  please. Looking for gossip girl?  Send her a text at lunch hour, then you get a message from gossip girl immediately! Use your sleuthing skills!  And eventually she has to graduate! GOOD GOD.  It's killing me.

Anyway.  Gossip Girl blogs, I blog... so I'm blaming blogging on the fact that I'm watching Gossip Girl.  Not the more realistic reason... which is that I'm just terribly in love with over-dramatic high school activities involving gossip and high-fashion.

Oh. And students sleeping with teachers to frighteningly angry music.

xoxo