I hate shit.

I hate fans.

I hate all combinations there of.

As you may have guessed, the shit hit the fan and that’s why I haven’t been posting. In my absence from the web there has been a few life changing events that have taken place. First being my wedding, something I know many of you disapproved of but too bad, it’s down and over. I’m hitched and thats not going to change anytime soon.

I now have my own office, so I can practice my satanic beliefs in private. It truly is a funny story, maybe I’ll blog about it as a flashback or something. Also the Blue Oyster incident was ruled gang related. I guess someone felt they weren’t getting their fair cut of the local drug sales.

But the most life changing (yes bigger than getting married) is my learning that I have an issue with high blood pressure. I didn’t learn this from a doctor, no no, my own body told me in the form of a stroke. The stroke occured on the right side of my brain so luckily I still have my wonderful language skills to convey my story to you, but it does mean I suffer from vision problems. Beside impairing my motor skills, my license has been revoked, so I have gotten to discover a new hell, public transit.

My posts may still be intermittent as I have a lot of rehab to go through, but I’ll try to fulfill your selfish need for entertainment, so don’t worry about that.

I hate commitment.

In yesterday’s post I mentioned something that I doubt any of you knew, mostly because I hadn’t told you yet. I am in fact engaged, while that is one of those who gives-a-crap details in and of itself, it becomes even more plot centric seeing as I now have a date Friday night.

While this blog is about my hell at work, my hell at home is outside of the scope of what I’ll talk about. But I will tell you that the situation with my fiancée is complicated. I know I want to marry her, I just don’t know that she is the only woman I want to be with.

Well I guess it isn’t that complicated although it does serve as a slight moral dilemma, it’s something I am completely willing to live with.

I hate commitment.

P.S. Still haven’t gotten an email from Jesse yet. Wonder what she wants me to do?

Oh the pain…Sorry, but I am in much too much pain to write. Nothing serious, just the usual trouble for all double X chromosomed people.

Hope to be back soon. In the meantime, just to give you an idea of just how much pain I’m in, I leave you this:

Be warned. I am dangerous, very dangerous.

Haha. But on my good days I am also very fluffy, sweet, and absolutely lovable. Right, B? The Fiancee probably feels like he’s one of these full-time cat herders:

Ah, yes. He’s ‘living the dream’, alright. LOL!

Thanks to echelonsky and firenearth for the vids.

Just awhile ago, I asked B if he felt I let him be himself with me. I fully expected him to say yes but he said, “Lemme think.” So I waited and hummed one of my favorite songs on the same theme–the same song I’ve been bugging him MONTHS ago and recently, just last week, to sing to me, with no success. Sigh.

Now it’s a relatively short song, but I thought he was taking unreasonably long to come up with an answer. So I reminded him gently of the many ways in which I, despite my privileged position as S.O. (Supreme Overlord! Nyahaha! Kidding, kidding.), let him be himself. Here are a few printables:

• I let him eat what he wants. What I want, he is automatically obliged to desire as well. That is the law. Mwahaha! Kidding again. Allowing him the occasional cheeseburger or ice cream makes him oblivious to the thousand and one ways I sneak the veggies (and exercise) into his daily routine. Hehehe. One day, he’ll wake up to realize we’ve become vegetarian.
• I let him indulge his otaku side. This means turning a blind eye to his assortment of manga/anime-related merchandise: comics, videos, posters, mechas, figurines. I insist, however, that the er, prurient stuff be kept out of my sight. Such as the scantily clad female models brandishing ballistics of the fleshy sort.
• I let him fart. Yes. In my presence. He doesn’t even have to hide in the bathroom or anything. I only ask that I be given advance warning. There is nothing more infuriating than having to breathe in sulfur while he tries to look cherubic and there’s nobody else in the vicinity.

Although he will probably have to finish humming Hey Jude before I can come up with examples, B probably lets me get away with so much more. And so, this song goes out to B, and anybody else who’s made somebody, in the words of Ingrid Michaelson, feel,

“And you take me the way I am.”

That was the funny version. I soo detest bandwagons and I love Ingrid’s ability to poke fun at her work. It keeps her from becoming just another singer. For the original, see below.

Thanks to cuuliem and SouthSideSoxFan for the videos.

If you enjoyed the music, please leave a comment. Or share the ways in which you let your significant other be who they are and vice versa.

Have a happy weekend!

The best five days I’ve had in such a long time. The reason, simply because I got to see you everyday.

We did so much this week didn’t we. I finally visited monash for the first time. You met Simon and Pang. Michelle and I were gossiping behind your back =P  We even almost managed to watch Wall E, only just one more person before our turn at the ticket counter to be precise. But it didn’t matter, because we not only saved money, we had more time to ourselves didn’t we. And yes, we must not forget your first hokey pokey.

Oh crap. My life revolves around you. Oh well.

P.S -I have a feeling next week’s going to get better.

juen