Four years ago today Ben drove to Bakersfield and told me, “Move up with me or we need to move on.” So I moved up. And although there have been extremely difficult times along the way, I know without a doubt, that this is where I belong. Where I belonged for a long time BEFORE the move.

I can’t believe how much I’ve grown and changed in that time. When he showed up that day I was extremely depressed but refused to admit it. I was grasping at a very thin string to keep my head just high enough above the water to make the outside world think that I wasn’t completely drowning. I really didn’t care. I wanted to drown.

I know that Ben knew this. And I know that he knew what I needed was for somebody to slap me across the face and tell me to grow the fuck up already. So in his own, much more eloquent and civilized way, he did that. He had to do it again one weekend recently. Depression is an odd playmate.

I have no doubt that Ben knows me better than I know myself. He also believes in me more that I believe in myself and he combines these two things into a wicked mind game. Wicked good though! Because it startles me sometimes how transparent I am to him and how easily he can manipulate that to my own advantage. Yes, MY advantage. I know. At some point I hope I’m able to help you understand it better but for now try, okay?

Anyway, since we don’t have a real anniversary date, I wanted to take this chance to say: Happy Anniversary, Lover. I’m still thankful every day that I have you. I love you for being such a wonderful man, an outstanding father, as patient as the day is long and for making me laugh and smile every single day. (k)

Saturday Ben asked if I wanted to go look at some new stereo stuffs for my car. My M3 still has the stock head unit in it but I took the six disc changer out awhile ago because it wasn’t working for some reason which, whatever, I used the Ipod with tape adapter all the time anyway.

He warned me in advance, ‘We are just looking today. Pricing. Okay?’ as if I’m some impatient impulse buyer that doesn’t have any control. And I am. That is me in the relationship.

Ben: Do you really need more makeup?
Me: But I didn’t have this color!
Ben: Purple?
Me: It’s not PURPLE, it’s TRAX. That is other one is Violet. Plus it’s pigment, not eyeshadow.
Ben: You wear it on your eye.
Me: I JUST NEED IT, I HAVE TO BUY IT, IT’S A NEW COLOR AND SO PRETTY AND I JUST HAVE TO.

Or something.

Anyway, Ben drove my car a few weeks ago and when he put the tape in it made a sound like 500 gears being forced in the wrong direction. And that’s all it’s done since then. It. Has. Been. Rough. Mornings aren’t so bad because I listen to NPR and traffic updates but the afternoons, or anytime Cassidy is in the car, it kills me. Do you know how many times you have to search the entire FM band to find ONE good song? Well, in a three hour drive from here to Bakersfield, I managed to find ONE song. Seriously. One. Not that I even listen to good songs all the time. I mean, I have an 8 year old girl and there’s a lot of Fergie and Gewn Stefani goin’ on. Which I guess isn’t THAT bad. It could be worse. Like the Hanna Montana crap she’s suddenly OMG SO IN LOVE WITH BECAUSE SHE’S SO KEWL!

Ben: I’m thinking a nice head unit, an amp and some front speakers and you’ll be set.
Me: Whatever. As long as I can listen to my Ipod, I’m fine.

We ended up getting an Alpine iDA-X001 head unit built in collaboration with Apple for use with the Ipod. It even shows album art. TeeHee. Small pleasures. We also got some bad ass six inch Alumapro speakers for the front which will require some modification of the kick panel but these speakers almost caused me to have a spontaneous orgasm right there in the sound booth so I’M OKAY WITH THAT. Then Ben made the mistake of asking to listen to them WITH an Alumapro subwoofer and ‘almost’ turned into ‘real’ and we got it too and two Alpine amps to power them all. And they are really cute amps. That was one of them. I’m not sure which speakers that powers. I didn’t even know there were TWO until Ben just told me after laughing at me for not knowing. And blue cabling for all of it. And a capacitor, also Alumapro.

I drop the car off Friday night and can hopefully pick it up Saturday evening. *giddy*

The other big news?! Cassidy is home. Love. I was REALLY missing her the last week or so. That’s partly the reason I hadn’t blogged most of last week. All the posts turned into whiny sob stories of WHAAAA I miss my little 8 year old mouthy BFF/daughter/MiniMe! That lasted a whole 24 hours. Because she came home with pink eye (which they took her to the doctor and ‘treated’ her for so how the fuck does that happen?) and an over sized, incredibly skanky, Bratz Doll she named Cynthia. Cassidy even called her a Hoochie Momma. Thanks for teacheing her that term and letting her think it’s okay to use it in public conversation, ass fuckers.

Anyway, it’s good to have my sidekick home. And I better get to bed because I need to get up, get her to the doctor, then to work before 11:30 when we have a going away lunch for a co-worker.

Night, All!

Because I’m a responsible blogger and Surge is a DREAM KILLER, I thought that I should add that I’m doing my part to kill the planet, one cold, refreshing fix at a time. According to TreeHugger.com *tries not to snicker*, every 1 kilogram of Fiji water consumes 26.88 kilograms of water (7.1 gallons) .849 Kilograms of fossil fuel (one litre or .26 gal) and emitted 562 grams of Greenhouse Gases (1.2 pounds) to produce. Now my habit feels even more dirty than before. Only not as bad as say, if I smoked…

Some time ago I rather harshly judged somebody because they wouldn’t drink any water but Figi. I still think its pretty lame to go overboard with it which is what this person did.

Them: Oh no, I don’t want that perfectly good Arrowhead water you are offering be because I’m thirsty and there’s nothing around to drink, because I ONLY drink Fiji water.
Me: Good! Becuase I’d much rather spit on your hot, dry corpse then GIVE you a single drop of my water!

For the last few weeks I’ve been living a secret double life. I’ve gone through probably 20 bottles of Fiji water. I CAN’T HELP IT! IT’S A PROBLEM, I KNOW I NEED HELP! I’M SO ASHAMED!!!

But it’s so soft and flavorless and when its ice cold it’s like pouring liquid extacy (Not that I’ve ever done E, because I HAVEN’T. HI DAD!) down your throat. The way the supersoft water rolls across your tongue and down your throat with no aftertaste and… *starts shaking*

*grabs bottle, injects into vein*

Okay, I have a problem. BUT! I can say, that if I was thirsty and somebody offered me a bottle of Arrowhead, I’d not turn it down like some pigish, asswipe who’s SO MUCH BETTER than your crap infested, NAME BRAND water.

The other day Ben, who admits the Supreme Fabulousness of the water and has been knows to bring bottles to bed with him, was giving me a hard time about it. “what makes it so special?”, he asked. So I explained:

Me: It’s filtered through mountains and silica so that’s why it’s so soft. Mountians that are untouched by pollutants from factories or humans and think about it, even the rain clouds have no pollution in them and so the water even STARTS OUT pure and…
Ben: What about dead animals?
Me: What?!
Ben: Well, there has to be dead animals on the mountain…
Me: I hate you! Why would you say that!?

Ben always has to ruin EVERYTHING for me!! But! According to my Fiji bottle yesterday the water is protected by an Impermeable Rock that protects the water. IMPERMEABLE! Click that link. They explain that the water isn’t ever even touched by AIR, let alone ROTTING ANIMAL.

By definition, artesian water comes from a source deep within the earth, protected by layers of clay and rock. There is no opening, not even a porthole to the surface. As a result, the water never comes into contact with the air, protecting it from environmental pollutants and other contamination.

IMPERMEABLE! I think that rotting animal corpses would fall under the “other contamination” umbrella. Not that it really matters anyway. I’m stupid brave enough to drink California tap water so drinking water filtered through rotting animal corpses would probably be a step up.

Ben had a CT Scan of his head done yesterday to find the cause of the never ending headache. The results came back today and it looks like there is a fluid filled cyst at the base of his skull. The doctor said it may be an Arachnoid Cyst. In his head. By his brain. It’s not actually on or in the brain, thankfully. SO. THANKFULLY.

The last 24 hours I’ve bounced back and fourth between ‘Please don’t let there be anything in his head. Please. Please. Please’. To ‘Please let there be something SMALL and SIMPLE to treat so that he gets some relief from this pain he’s been in for FOUR DAYS.’

We don’t really know any more than that. The next step will be to get an MRI to get a better view of whatever is going on in there. The downside is I can’t help but be worried about something like this even though wikipedia makes to seem not so bad. The up side is I got to crack a joke about him setting off metal detectors because how cool would it be to have a piece of Bionic Steel in his head?!

I know that seems harsh and mean considering. But he’s already using it as an excuse for things…

06-30-2007: This conversation has been corrected after Ben reminded me how it “really went” at breakfast with a friend this morning. And really, my version made him seem less crazy, but we can go with his version instead!!

Ben: *knocks fork off counter*
Me: Dude. I was going to use that!
Ben: The auditory hallucinations told me to do it.
Me: Wikipedia said “Musical hallucination”.
Ben: The voices were singing.
Me: Oh. My. God.
Ben: *grin*

So it’s the very least I should be allowed to do.

Tuesday I was craving Italian food. Badly. Ben was pleased because its not a normal craving and NO JULIE I AN NOT PREGNANT! Soon after we pulled away from the house:

Me: Remind me when we get back and I’ll put the garbage cans on the street.
Ben: Uhhh, they are on the street.
Me: Oh? They are?
Ben: Oh honey, I love your hair it’s so beautiful…
Me: Fuck you!
Ben: *bwahahha* You should blog that.
Me: Why would I blog that?! I only blog things that make OTHER people look stupid, not me.
Ben: Okay, then I’ll blog it.
Me: FINE! You have admin access and your own account, blog it yourself!
Ben: I’ll put in on NorCal.
Me: NorCal is NOT your blog.
Ben: It practically is!
Me: Besides, what are they going to say? They all KNOW me. They know I’m blond.
…
Me: I think I should post the post-conversation after the funny stuff because that was funnier.
Ben: *blink* *blink* I have no idea what the fuck you just said!!
Me: SEE! Funnier!
Ben: Blog it.
Me: I’m not blogging it!!

After dinner. Shortly before pulling up to the house:

Me: I don’t see the kid with the lemonade stand. Actually, I didn’t see him when we were leaving either. I think you’re seeing things, losing it.
Ben: Honey, remember to put the garbage cans out when we get back.
Me: FUCK YOU!

And that, my friends, is why I love the man.