Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Rise of the Fallen, or, A Love Story....

This is a 2-parter, so go ahead and get that fourth second cup of coffee. I'll wait. All better? Goooood.

Rise of the Fallen:

So rather than bore you to tears with yetanother gripping reality saga of Sammo's Life with ASS-ma, I'll just share some pictures with you. (Yes, friends, my doctor basically told me it's my ASS-ma, again. Apparently it had never really let go of its death-grip on my sad tragic lung-ages and rose to attack again, like a half-dead villain that I just hadn't pummeled enough. I told her about my denial plan, and she didn't seem to think that was very healthy, so *after* I get all healthy again, we're doing something REALLY FUN called a "Full Pulmonary Work Up" - aren't you jealous? Anyway, it'll tell her what my lungs consider "normal" - and probably what amazing medications I should take for the rest of my life. I know, a life *this* glamorous is hard.)

This is what my counter looks like:

(Please ignore the GORGEOUS green laminate counter-tops. We are replacing them as soon as we can. The green, ye Gods, the GREEN in this house! The former owners were related to Oscar the Grouch or something.)

Yeah, I'm pretty much feeling like an old-ster. I don't think that's even all my meds - just a small sampling of the fun things I'm ingesting. And speaking of ingesting....

Awwww yeah. That's totally pure 100% albuterol right there homies. Guaranteed to open your lungs! THAT is how I party. I know, I should slow my roll.

(I also thought about adding an eye-patch for that "Pirate Chic" look, but in the end I just went with the "fake smoke cloud" look.)

And now, for Part II of the aforementioned two-parter.

A Love Story:

Today is my 7 year wedding anniversary. SEVEN years! Lucky number seven! Seven rhymes with heaven. Coincidence? Sure.

I thought about writing about my Beautiful-Although-I-Had-Severe-Food-Poisoning-Wedding, but I haven't had enough therapy sessions to cover THAT yet. Yes, you read that correctly. Yes, I had food poisoning on My Special Day. Yes, it sucked. No, I did NOT throw up DURING the ceremony. Yes, I did throw up throughout the REST of the evening. No, I did NOT have my cake nor eat my dinner, and YES I did toast with gatorade - the choice beverage of brides everywhere. Hey, you have to replace electrolytes somehow, right? I did manage to dance and celebrate, through trips to the potty, and I have *nothing* but the highest praise for Covergirl's Outlast Lipstick - which seriously, if it can last through about 700 episodes of projectile vomitus, should totally win a PRIZE.

If you look at the pictures though, you'd never know I had eaten the Food of the Damned. See?

I know! It's a testament to my make up, my general youth and vigor, my uncle Mark who's an AMAZING professional photographer, and God, who smiles on all brides with e-coli.

(Stay tuned for more pictures!)

Okay, back to our Love Story, since I'm now having Food Poisoning Flashbacks and have to dig out a xanax call my counselor....

I met The Man through a friend who was engaged to a friend of The Man. This friend of mine, we'll call her Sunny, had been hopelessly setting me up with walking tragedies guys since we were 17. Here is how the conversation went:

Sunny: So I really think you should meet him.
Me: No! You always do this - seriously.
Sunny: Look, you'll just meet him at our house and then if you don't like him, we'll go out as planned and it's no big deal.
Me: Hmmmm.... Well what's the story?
Sunny: He's really good looking. He has a kid....
Me: ACK! A kid? I can't do that! I'm totally not responsible!
Sunny: No, she's really cool and she's older - she's 12.
Me: Well, I mean, that's better than a little kid....
Sunny: And he has a bike!
Me: A bike you say? What kind of bike?
Sunny: A crotch rocket! It's really cool!
Me: What kind???
Sunny: I have no idea, I think it's green.
Me: Oh, it's probably a Kawasaki! And you're sure he's hot...?
Sunny: Oh yeah.
Me: Well, okay. The bike did it.

I met The Man that weekend at Sunny's house. I was totally flustered because, yes, he was an amazingly good looking man, and he was totally full of energy and life. Sunny and I were getting dressed to go out that night, and her fiancee and The Man were going to hang out. I remember talking to Sunny about what we were wearing and if we looked okay for where we were going, and at that point, The Man turned to me and said "Well, I think you look hotter than hell."

Now, that might not have gone well with every girl out there, but I like some chutzpa, am I right? I thought, this guy is fearless. And he was. And is. (And sometimes, that makes me have to punch his face a little.) But honestly, he was just being honest, and he had balls. Most guys couldn't get away with that, but he could. And did.

We went out to dinner the next night. We stayed out so late our friends kept calling to see if things were okay. We went out the weekend after that. And the one after that.

The bike in question? Yeah, you might notice I'm on it:

Here's a shot during one of those weekends:

We met September 13 2002, The Man proposed to me October 23 2002, and we got married May 18 2003.

The Man, me and the Reverend, my Uncle Tim (you can't tell we're related at ALL)

Our Air Force Honor Guard

The Man singing our Sade song to me

The Man with the Honor Guard

My ladies and me, before rushing off to El Banyo

A random picture of my beautiful cake thrown in for fun

Dancing to "Hot in Here" by Nelly

And another shot of getting dowwwwwn...

It's seven years, a new house, four sport bikes, three cars, and two kids later. It hasn't been perfect, and there are days we fight like we're making the world safe for democracy. But I can honestly tell you that I'm as in love today as I was seven years ago. Would I do it all again? In a heart beat. I love you, The Man. Happy Anniversary.

Comments, questions, how long have you been married?