Mark and I are in a car with friends. Mark is driving. There is chatting and laughing, but also? There is tension.
Mark and I have something to discuss. And this thing we need to discuss? Hangs heavy and impatient in the air.
And then it’s just the two of us in the car.
Mark turns to me, and I look into his eyes. I see the face of the man I have loved for so many years. The man with whom I have built a family, a life, a home.
I see Mark. The other half of me.
And the other half of me is explaining, with pleading sincerity, that he loves me.
And that he would like to sleep with other people.
Alrighty, then.
He keeps talking, but my mind is racing on without him. Thinking about the girls and my life and my future. Things to be done. Steps to be taken.
Sleeping with other people . . . are you fucking kidding me? Not even. I am so fucking out of here.
Mark is still talking, and now I am thinking about this blog and all of the hundreds of times I have written about Mark in loving terms. Oh my god, I am going to look like such a fucking fool. Pretty All True is pretty all dead . . . how the fuck did I not see this coming?
Mark has turned out to be such a faithless fucking asshole.
He is sitting here beside me this morning.
I am furious with him. Furious and heartbroken.
He looks over at me, “What is wrong with you?”
Hmmmph . . . “Nothing.”
It was a very vivid dream.
What?
Also annoying this morning? Mark bought us an enormous supply of these business envelopes that have an adhesive strip. You just peel off the backing and voila! Stickiness!
So you don’t have to lick them. Because we are too fucking lazy to lick, apparently.
Well, Mark is.
What?
Did I mention these envelopes are a Costco purchase? So we have 500. That’s like a forever supply. And because we have a forever supply? The girls feel free to use the envelopes for whatever purpose pops into their minds.
Like . . .
Shells and rocks and home-made confetti and stickers and notes and dog fur and excess sugar dust from a Fun-Dip candy and fish food and flowers and glitter.
Our house is filled with sealed envelopes no one had to lick.
That’s just all kinds of awesome, right?
Ok, but here’s the thing. Every time an envelope is used? There is a little strip of adhesive backing left over. And every time an envelope is used? A decision must be made . . . what should be done with this leftover bit of trash?
And every time one of these envelopes is used? The girls seem to be of the opinion that if Daddy meant to save them the effort of licking? Then he surely could not have meant for them to get up and walk over to throw this piece of peeled-off trash in the garbage.
That wouldn’t even make sense!
It is hard to argue with their logic.
So I am forever picking up these little adhesive backing strips, and every fucking time? My brain thinks (just for an instant) that someone has changed her sanitary pad . . . in my kitchen, and in my living room, and in the bedroom, and in my back yard. Someone too fucking lazy to walk the strip of adhesive backing over to the garbage can.
Why would these menstrual sluts not just use the bathroom? And where are these crazy bloody women hiding the nasty used pads? That’s what I want to know.
What?
I hold one of these little strips in my hand and crinkle it between my fingers. It feels the same. It looks the same.
Goddamn Mark and his lazy no-licking menstrually-synchronized envelope whores.
What?
Words on the little slip of shame declare, “Peel and Seel.”
That is way suggestive and trashy. And also? Illiterate.
Mark is tiring of my intellect, apparently.
He’s going to seel the deal with some stupid someone else.
What?
Back at my computer.
Tappity tappity tappity tap.
I mention to Mark that I had a dream that he wanted to sleep with other people.
He is all eager ears . . . “I never have cool dreams like that! Did I introduce you to these other women? Were they cute?”
Mark is way annoying sometimes.
I turn to him, “I didn’t see the other women, but my impression of them was that they were stupid and lazy. And that they all seemed to have a perpetual menstrual cycle. And there was no oral sex . . . I distinctly remember that dream-you had an issue with licking.”
OK, so I fudged the details a bit.
Mark is all sad and disappointed in his dream-self.
As am I.
As am fucking I.
What?
The beginning of this post had me all in a panic. I was trying to read ahead while reading the post. I was ready to punch Mark. My stomach was all in my throat I was so mad. I’ve calmed down a little but my shoulders are still all tense from how upset I was. I can’t believe how worked up I got or a marriage of two pretty much strangers falling apart. So tell Mark this better never happen because apparently I can’t handle it.
I am laughing so hard!
I thought of more clearly telegraphing the dream in the title, but then?
Fuck it.
I am sorry to hear that you were all upset, but also? Secretly pleased.
Snort.
Fine. I see how it is. Get me all upset then laugh at me. Humph.
Mocking laughter at the expense of those you love?
The best kind!
Snort.
I stay mad at people for DAYS after they piss me off in my dreams. I was about to kick Mark in the ball sac and I don’t even know him!
Snort!
Yes, Mark is not quite clear why his morning has to suck because I am a crazy person who is unable to distinguish reality from dreams.
I love him. But sleeping with other people? A deal-breaker.
Even in my dreams.
See, I never have dreams about cheating. No, my abandonment issues manifest in a Death of Husband dream about once a week. I wake up in the throes of mourning on a semi-regular basis.
I then I realize that someone set the coffee maker before I woke up, so it’s either his ghost fucking with me or Husband is fine.
I also have dreams about Mark dying!
All the time!
I hate waking up in mourning. I know exactly what you are describing.
Exactly.
I totally figured this was a dream before you said it was…and me, I’d NEVER buy envelopes that you didn’t have to lick b/c I LOVE the way envelope licking tastes. Seriously, for every holiday, birthday, anniversary, and just b/c my husband leaves my card envelopes unsealed b/c he knows I like to lick them myself. And Stamps, just as good.
Apparently, I have licking issues.
Just so you know? If Mark did ever make an announcement like that in real life?
I would not have time to blog about it.
I would be too busy wood-chipping his body into the snow.
Do they let you blog from prison?
And you? With your licking issues? You are hilarious!
I just do not see what’s so hard about licking. And usually? Mark loves this about me.
hahaha. Your dreams are as bizarre as mine. My hubby loves it when I have dreams like that about him too. The envelope part of your dream cracked me up big time. I buy those for work. I like that you don’t have the lick them. ick, that stuff you lick tastes awful.
The stuff you lick?
It does not taste that bad.
I only have weird dreams like that when pregnant… … … …
Rob had an issue with licking until we got married. If I would have known that I would have married him a whole lot sooner!
Snort!
Yay for you!
I should mention here i was not fooled by this post. You talk about your husband way too much for there to be big trouble in little oswego. When I am mad at my husband? You will notice a suspicious lack of talking about him in my blog. Then you will know.
See? Exactly.
You are way smart.
Damn you and your long lead in.
I felt my entire fucking body go numb.
I’m not speaking to you anymore, you cruel, cruel woman.
Hee hee!
You? Are way too empathetic.
And also? I love you.
Holy crap! I had a dream like that a few nights ago and I woke up raging pissed at my husband. All day I kept thinking about what an asshole he is and when he came home I got a little snarky with him. After he looked at me and asked what my problem was, I told him I was sorry & that he pissed me off in a dream. He just rolled his eyes and mumbled something about me being crazy. Then I laughed to myself because it was kinda funny.
Just wait until I inform him of the dream I had where he was going to Hell and I was helping him pack!
Funny how the mind works . . . It is hard to let go of rage, even if it is not real.
And for hell? I wouldn’t think you’d need much.
Maybe some sunscreen. And water.
It’s hot there, I have heard.
OMG I seriously thought “she could not really posting be that” and immediately wished I had nerve like that. Whew! Although the ensuing posts should Marc sleep with other women would be even more hilarious. I’m slightly disappointed.
Mark is all happy with your brilliant plan . . . the one where I post about him sleeping with other women.
Not even.
And also? I would not post about the actual demise of my marriage as it was happening.
Not even.
That’s not nerve. That’s insanity.
Oh man, I read the first several lines and then my son needed me to come and wipe his bum. So for like 5 minutes I was in shock at Mark’s douchebaggery. What is your damage woman? ;) Heehee…I actually love being tricked like that. Soooo goood!
In the light of day? I know Mark.
So I guess I didn’t think too many people would believe the dream was real.
But honestly?
I am all giggling and hysterical over here!
That is lovely!
I was reading along saying “WHAT!?!?!?!” and “NO WAY!!!!!”, and then I said, “This HAS to be a dream.” Thank goodness I was right. Although, in the back of my head, when you said that the blog was dead, for a split second, I was thinking no…that there would be so much to blog about. Apparently I’m a drama whore.
As I mentioned elsewhere in these comments?
If this had not been a dream? Mark would be dead.
Internet access in prison is tricky.
Oh my Lord, my heart dropped into my stomach until I got to the dream part. And I have a problem licking envelopes ever since someone told me there might be cockroach eggs in the glue. Irrational, maybe. But my fear and loathing of roaches is so intense that I will never lick an envelope again. I’m about to puke just thinking about it.
That is like a nightmare!
Why would there be cockroach eggs in the envelope glue???
You are all irrational and loony!
I love that about you!
I’ve heard the same story about roach eggs. The story goes that some lady got a papercut on her tongue from licking an envelope. It got swollen and infected, then one day burst open & a bunch of baby roaches came out of her papercut. Apparently, roaches had laid eggs in the glue at the envelope factory or something. Likely this is total bullshit, but I think of it every time I lick an envelope & it creeps me out.
I am heading off to snopes.
That cannot be true.
Horrifying but untrue, I am guessing.
I am hoping.
Snopes says it is a lie.
You can lick with abandon.
Snort.
Oh, dear GOD! Fiance and I were both freaking out! Fiance even suggested that we go down to Lake Oswego to comfort you in your distress! Good thing with read further and discovered that it was only a dream. Just what you need — two lunatic blog-fans showing up in your town unannounced, shouting “Kris!” through the streets, because we don’t know where you live! (I crack myself up!)
Tears running down my face at the thought . . .
Kris! We’re here for you, Kris! Where are you, exactly? Kris!
Oh my god.
I’m glad you kept reading!
We are all sympathetic and gooey like that. No, no…don’t thank us. We love to give. We’re givers. *snort!*
Snort indeed.
Love you both.
When I hadn’t been married very long I once had a dream that after we died we were in the afterlife with other people and my husband went hanging out with some blond chick, leaving me alone. Turns out I don’t know many dead people. When I woke up – but not all the way – I made him promise he would hang out with me in heaven. I am amazed this man hasn’t run screaming from the house way before now. I get the emotion hanging on when the dream ends, but if your dream ever becomes reality at least you know there’ll be about 100 women at your door ready to do in your husband. And not in a good way.
It is almost worth the thought of Mark cheating . . . just to imagine the pack of angry blog-readers who would hunt him down and tear him limb from limb.
Mark is all scared.
I mean, he was already all scared of me.
But now? I have a fucking army!
Happy sighs.
“Goddamn Mark and his lazy no-licking menstrually-synchronized envelope whores.”
That’s art right there, that sentence. Oh yes.
Goddamn dream Mark is a prick. Dream Brian? Also a prick. Dream Brian once made (Made? Snort. Had to have been a dream.) me have sex with him on the 50 yard line in a jam-packed football stadium.
But there were no whores. No sanitary napkin adhesive backing litter, either. I keep my office supplies locked up because my kids are like locusts for that shit. I’m still wondering how they used up an entire gross of pencils in a month last year.
Truly? I wish I knew how many pencils are in a gross.
One gross is 144 – one dozen dozens.
Adrienne is correct.
Not that there was a doubt.
But I like to have the last word.
No, I was wrong that one time. You probably don’t remember, but it happened once. I think it was a Tuesday.
Nope.
It was a Wednesday.
So now that’s twice you’ve been wrong.
Adrienne -
I am fond of that phrase myself. Mark laughed right out loud at that image.
Kids and office supplies? It’s just craziness.
Why would Mark indulge their need with Costco mass quantities of office supplies?
Even though he is not sleeping with envelope whores? That shit’s annoying.
PMS Me: “Beeyotch!!! I can’t believe you would actually put peoples cardiac wellness in jeopardy like that!!!! Nice. Real nice. Oh and the way that you made it juuuuust long enough so that we the readers would have to scroll to find out that we had no need to jump in the car to come find Mark and mutilate his man-whore body was a huge risk. I almost put the baby in the car seat before I scrolled imnotevenfuckingkidding. sunufabitch!”
Mood-Stabilizer-After-Reading-That Me: “Kris, you are such a wonderful writer! I’m so glad I scrolled and read further because I would’ve been really upset had this atrocity actually unfolded. I hate those dreams. Tim hates them, too because I am a complete psycho for the entire day afterwards. Oh, and I know all about those damn self-adhesive envelopes and their trashy-ness (ha!).”
Love you. Glad you’re un-cheated on.
I love both versions of you.
So much.
People were posting on twitter about your cruel post so my mindset was all disturbed when I came over here. And dammit, I fell for it. But, in my defense, I haven’t been stalking you all that long, so Mark could’ve been a douchebag & I just hadn’t noticed yet.
If my husband cheated? He would also find his way into a woodchipper. Or, I suppose I could fire up our tiny electric chainsaw….
I don’t think Nichole liked the thought that she had been the only one to fall for my prank.
So she shared the joy on Twitter without revealing the surprise.
I love Nichole.
Misery does in fact love company.
No way was I going to be the only one who was freaked the fuck out.
I was taking everyone with me. :)
I love you too, witchy woman.
You did a lovely job of leading people off the cliff.
You are the queen of the lemmings!
And that is not an insult, people . . . I follow people off cliffs all the time.
I honestly thought you were serious. That was crazy! I hate dreams like that. You know what kind of dreams I also hate? The kind where you dream you have cool stuff and it feels so real then you wake up and realize you don’t. The first time that happened I was maybe 8 years old and dreaming of these awesome My Little Pony dolls I wanted. Ha.
Those dreams suck as well.
One time?
I dreamed I had a Barbie Dream House.
Not so much.
That sucked.
HOLY SHIT. You are VERBOTEN from scaring me like this again. I felt like my e-life was crumbling in around me. And now my heart is racing.
HOLY SHIT.
I will also never be able to think of those envelopes in the same way now that they have been compared to maxi pads.
You forbid me?
Hmmmmm.
Making a note.
I will wait a while, though . . . so that your heart-rate gets the chance to return to normal.
And those envelopes? Are way slutty.
Okay, maaaaaaybe forbidden was a strong word. Maaaaybe, I should’ve said pretty please with sprinkles on top don’t scare us like this again.
I would’ve said cherries on top, but that made me think of envelope sluts.
That’s way better!
But I do like cherries.
Wow you had me going for a second! I am glad all is well.
I have dreams like this and yes, I stay mad about them sometimes. I think it’s because we’re afraid of the parts of our husbands that make our stupid brains think this, the asshole animal part that threatens to emerge…but most of all because we’re scared of ourselves too. Scared of our own mistakes. Scared of losing.
Or?
I am all pissed off at him in real life, and I am just working through some shit in my dreams.
What?
Okay! I was freaking out at the beginning…all ready to leave you words full of sympathy and anger!
When I wake up from dreams like that I stay pissed off for days. My hubby does the same thing yours did…which pisses me off more! I’m gonna remember your comeback ;)
Mark doesn’t remember his dreams often, and he is always hopeful that I will have a good story to share of his illicit behavior in my dreams.
Mostly, I keep those images to myself.
Unless sharing serves my purposes.
Ahem.
I almost stopped reading this in the middle because I didn’t feel like getting depressed. You. Are. Awesome.
Oh, I have so been there. Headed off to read a blog all happy and then been like . . . NO! Do not tell me about how your puppy was run over by a car! I want happy!
Happy snorts!
I’m glad you kept reading.
I once – ONCE – had a dream David cheated on me and the next morning I woke up all bitchy and cranky about it. He still tells everyone how I chastise him for things that happen in my dreams.
But dude, dream-you had better keep that shit in check.
Dream-Mark is held firmly in check.
As is real-life Mark.
Snort.
Mark would like to point out here that it is not even like this was his dream, for god’s sake.
Nice work. Tee hee. I would write how aghast I was too but you’ve clearly gotten that message so instead I’ll congratulate you on your continually stellar writing skills and ability to connect to deeply with so many random strangers they were all mourning the loss of a marriage they have no otherwordly connection besides this blog.
Again, very nice!
Thank you!
Although the depth and strength of people’s reactions?
Is surprising to me.
Lovely, but surprising.
i fucking LOVE how your brain works. just. love. it.
My brain gets me in trouble sometimes.
I’m glad you like how it works.
Mark, for example? Not a huge fan today.
Hee hee!
HOLY HEL LO OPERATOR! I nearly shit a brick when I started reading this. Instantly I started plotting revenge you could do on him, like hiring a hooker with the clap for him. EY YI YI ! Im glad it was a dream.
Dear Brick Shitter,
That sounds sooooo fucking uncomfortable.
I’m glad it did not actually come to pass.
Kris
(who sometimes throws bricks, but tries not to shit them)
Glad to know I wasn’t the only one fooled.
Also? I was kicking myself for asking you a favor while your marriage was crumbling.
Lord, you SUCK, woman.
You are awesome.
Oh, and Mark needs to get his Costco issues looked at…
HA HA HA!
I didn’t think of that!
So if my guest post sucks? I will blame Mark and his infidelities. It’s hard to focus when my world is falling apart.
Snort!
And also? Yes, Mark needs some super-sized therapy to go with his super-sized purchases.
Awesome post! Very creative.
Thanks, you!
Holy, crap, woman! You almost gave me a heart attack! I read a retweet on twitter about this cruel post you had over here, so I came over to read…and then almost fell off my chair laughing. Because I, too, have a husband named Mark, and I, too, get mad at Mark for the stuff he does in my dreams. Like dying. After nearly seven years of marriage he’s kind of used to me stalking downstairs in a huff in the morning, but I’ve got to show him this post. I’ve never sent an army of virtual fans after him for something he didn’t do!
Genius, girl. Just genius.
And also? The envelopes full of trash are creeping me out. As is the whole cockroach thing, even if invalidated by Snopes. I’m still freaked out that George’s fiancee from Seinfeld died after licking all their wedding invitation envelopes. Peel and stick all the way, baby! But my decision to keep our envelopes locked up is looking better and better.
I did not even know I had an army before today!
I love that!
And keep the envelopes locked up – They are nothing but trouble.
Nothing but trouble.
Oh holy shit. I was all freakin out and gettin bummed out when I was reading this!! I was all NNNOOOOOOOOOOO!!! They sound so happy and in love in writing and if its going to happen to them it could happen to me too! And I started panicking because my husband and I have been fighting about how to paint the new house and if we should redo the bathroom counters to change the horrible colors that they are and stressing out about my 11m/o son’s surgery and I’ve been having this stupid dream that he was leaving me and blah blah blah and I immediately wanted to fight Mark for being such a fucking jerk And then,I realized you were talking about a dream…
And then I kinda felt silly. I get so mad at Ben for the shit DreamBen does. He’s dumb. And very inconsiderate. And likes to make me wake up crying and kick RealBen for something DreamBen did or said.
Sooo glad it was just a dream. There woulda had to been some smackin of the perpetual menstrual sluts.
Yes, it’s not like it’s all sensible to hold Mark accountable for his dream behavior.
But I never feel silly about doing it, because my thought?
Is that he must be really fucking annoying me in my waking life if he is out slutting it up in my dream life.
And if there had been perpetual menstrual sluts?
There would have been some serious smacking.
Dammit.
And here I thought I might have a chance to explore my untapped homosexual urges by tapping your husband.
There is no joy in Mudville–mighty Nigel has struck out.
Mighty.
Effin’ typo.
Oops. Fixed your typo.
So now you look even less mighty, worrying about a typo that doesn’t even exist.
HA!
By the way?
Mark is not going to be happy to hear about the tapping fantasies.
At all.
But I am running off happily to tell him.
Hee hee!
And your gushing geyser of glee?
That’s why I say the things I do to you.
Enjoy!
Well, aren’t you the master of orgasmic alliteration?
Your forgot giggling.
And grateful.
OHMYFUCKINGGODDON’TEVERDOTHATTOMEAGAIN! I am way gullible, and I totally fell for that.
The sticky backing? We have that same issue here. From Netflix envelopes. Nobody fucking throws them away. They are constantly on the floor and I am constantly stepping on them and then they stick to my foot and I am seething with silent rage. I love Netflix though.
My readers?
You guys are a gullible bunch.
Except now when I do have big news to report? No one will believe me.
I am like the little shepard boy crying wolf.
And then the sheep and I are all eaten.
That will be all Mark’s fault, by the way.
Wow, got me too. Are you like one of those people who starts their voice mail with a “Hi” and then a pause, so stupid people like me start talking like you actually answered the phone?
Oh, and I love those envelopes. I can take them off your hands if you want.
I am not a mean person! I hate when people’s answering machines make me look a fool.
I would never do that to you.
And I am REALLY REALLY surprised that so many people thought Mark would be such an asshole.
Mark is surprised too – He thought you guys loved him!
And he loves his envelopes.
Snort!
At the begining? I was going to drive out there and kick some ass. Except my car sucks and you would probably have to rescue me in Nebraska. Also, the saddest part? Was when you said your blog was dead. Luckily it was just a dream. A La Wizard of eff-ing Oz.
I never dream- good or bad- about my husband. But I do about exes. Those dreams? Aren’t so much discussed over breakfast.
Oooooh . . . I have those sorts of dreams.
They are excellent.
But better kept to myself.
Shhhhh.
So I was all worried and stuff at first and trying to think of something nice to say without sounding like a cockholster and now I don’t have to!
Anyhoo…a friend of mine told me licking envelopes is bad for you because there’s something about the glue that attracts roaches to lay their eggs in it so ewww…
We have already snoped the roach rumor, and guess what?
It’s a lie.
There are no roaches or roach eggs in your envelope glue.
Lick all you like.
I had a vivid dream a few days ago. I was on the moon. I was going to be there for three months. I was doing big jumps and filming them. Then someone asked me about my phone camera. I had a very technically accurate and vivid conversation with them about the iPhone. And then I had a sudden realisation that I had come to the moon for three months which meant I would be away when the iPhone 4 came out (hasn’t been released in Australia yet). That made me very sad.
I woke up thinking that seemed a little odd.
A little odd?
You are so cute.
And very odd.
Very odd, indeed. But in a good way.
The doctor says I did not in fact break my jaw when it hit my desk, so I’m not supposed to be all mad at you. Mad for making my heart skip not two, but I’m sure three whole beats and I need them, I have kids that remove about 20 a day, add it up and I’m so close to death I can taste worms!
My therapist also says it is not your fault that I hallucinated your Mark in my office, metamorphosing into a seven-headed hydra beast that wore the heads of every asshole I’ve ever dated or married.
But I can ooze with jealousy in a most bizarre worshipy way because you tell your stories soooooo fucking, god-damn well. Shit. I’m completely speechless.
That was soooo fucking hilarious!
And now?
You have been promoted! You are my new favorite reader, what with your . . . oozing jealousy in a most bizarre worshippy way.
That is poetry!
Kris!
You can’t scare me like this. But I have to admit, as I was barely skimming your words (don’t worry, I went back…) to make sure that you were okay, I knew there was about a 80% chance that there was a twist and it wasn’t entirely as you thought. Because who would be stupid enough to piss off all of your devoted readers and have hundreds of women banging at their door with raised fists- and maybe a few weapons we managed to dig up? And don’t say Mark.
I’m realizing that I’m writing faster than I think and that would be dumb. You must have readers from all over the world, and to coordinate a massive movement and simultaneously arrive to do this in unison? Impossible.
So it would be more like random little bursts of one or two women at his door with raised fists and some possible weapons. And who would be stupid enough to initiate something like this?
And don’t say Mark.
So it would be more like random little bursts of one or two women at his door with raised fists and some possible weapons.
Oh my god . . . laughing so hard.
And also?
Mark.
I once had a dream that my husband left me for someone else and was blatant about it. Like in my dream I saw them making out and stuff. It was way too vivid. I wasn’t pissed at him. I woke up almost in tears. I wish I was pissed. It would have helped my emotional state.
Anger is way more fun than sadness.
Way more.
Kris,
I think I will laugh once I have forgiven you. In possibly decades. I really stopped breathing. The demon beast had not skipped a generation after all. Oh right. Dream sequence. Breath in… OK, did that… But my heart is still on the ground. DON’T do that evah again.
And in hopes of ending on a more humorous tone… A friend’s four-year daughter must have been bathing with the new baby brother. She proudly announced to her grandma, “I have a penis in this ear and a budgina in this one.”
Snort.
Bill
Snort, indeed!
That’s hilarious!
And seriously? I thought you were one of my more cynical readers.
Look at you . . . all mushy.
Hee hee!
I love your posts and your writing, wit and humour. You SOOO totally rock!! However, I do think that you and Mark need to have some “adult” time and he needs to be very attentive to you.
What?
Great minds think alike!
And also? I was a little ahead of you.
I hope that dream didn’t stick with you throughout the day too long. That’s the worst part of those dreams to me… the way the aura follows you around through the day. I was duped for a minute like most others, and I was just feeling sad since I had just finished catching up on EVERY post you’ve put up since I discovered this blog a week or two ago. So then I’m like, “Great! I just read everything she had ever posted and I’m all emotionally invested and now this happens!”
Dreams are wonderful in that they help you sort things out and horrible in the way they do it.
You went back and read all of my posts?
I love you, now.
A lot.
Swoon.
Yeah, I was actually a little sad when I finished and realized that I now have to wait for a new post every day rather than geeking out on post after post like I’ve been doing.
By the way, Kallan’s book report from a few months ago had me crying. It was awesome.
You really DID go back and read the archives!
I still like Kallan’s book report . . . very much.
Thanks, you.
And still?
Swoon.
I know, I’m tardy to the party, but I’ve actually been doing work, as in my job, you know, the thing that pays the bills? So….I’m sitting here reading thinking, “oh this will be a cute post, I bet it has to do with Mark not taking out the trash, la la la” and then I start reading…then stop…read again…and honestly think this has just happened! Wow, you really got me.
Love you, gotten one.
I too had dreams about my husband cheating and I was in suck a bad mood when I woke up and couldn’t remember why right away. Then when I told my husband, he was a little relieved to hear I was in a bad mood not for something he actually did. But then I was questioning what did he actually do, for him to think I was mad?
This posting was an awesome read, thanks, it had me reading faster then I think my brain could comprehend.
But then I was questioning what did he actually do, for him to think I was mad?
I am all snorty!
Wow. Wow. I was really confused for several very long minutes. I get it now. Not cool to scare us all like that!
I am all God-like here on Pretty All True.
It is my world.
HAHAHAHA!
I have not laughed this hard in a long time. Thank you. I read my sister the part about the adhesive backing strip, and I thought she was going to wreck her car. I have these envelopes, but also? (Sorry, couldn’t resist.) I have a step daughter who leaves the adhesive strips from her sanitary pads all over the floor in her room, so I could definitely relate to the analogy. Incidentally, our envelopes are not illiterate, but they are made by a company named Ampad, so I think that’s pretty apt under the circumstances.
You definitely have a gift; please don’t stop writing this blog!
Still writing . . . I love writing this blog!
And thank you.
And Ampad????
That’s hilarious!
Ah I love you. I am forever mad at the hubs for leaving me because he no longer loves me anymore in my dreams. He has no idea why, but I’ll walk around all mopey and heart broken for the day. And then? Hate him for biting his nails and spitting the bits places.
And the menstrual backings? Priceless.
I don’t think husbands realize how much better their lives would be if they would just stop fucking up in our dreams.
Seriously, they can be such assholes about it. Just be all nice and Adonis and good in bed in our dreams and then? You won’t get so many death stares.
Seriously.
How hard is that?
I SO did not fuckin’ believe a word you said! Mark is a saint! Even if? He wants to have your dreams! And the dream hangover is the shits…I can be pissed at the hubs for days for some stupid shit he did to me in my dreams…
p.s. LOVE the quote!!!
You are now Mark’s favorite reader.
Seriously. He loves you.
What?
that was nonsensical in the most awesome way. truly enjoyed it!
I love nonsense.
Sometimes.