Mack sneaks up behind the couch, grabs my foot, and makes as though he is going to bite my foot (let it be known I have extremely ticklish feet and can’t even touch them myself without bursting into giggles):

Me: Don’t. bite. my. foot.

Mack: Trust me, I wouldn’t dream of it. I know you’d kick me in the mouth and as blood gushed from my mouth you’d cry out ‘I didn’t mean to! It was an accident! You surprised me!’

Me: No, it would more be like ’serves you right for biting my foot, ass’

Mack: … I’d spit blood on you.

Technorati Tags: boyfriends, quotes, conversations, quote, amusing conversations, lol, relationships, romance

My dear readers, I am here to inform you about why my boyfriend is wonderful. Why? Since I want to gloat. It’s also been a hard week and I feel like I’ve been really negative thus, ta-da!, I’ll focus on something (or someone) which is particularly awesome in my life: Mack!

Meet Mack:

He’s my boyfriend and he’s pretty cool! A few of the (many) reasons why I love my boyfriend can and he’s pretty cool are:

• He cooks. It’s not that I can’t cook or really suck at it. I follow the woman’s movement of getting us out of the kitchen! I don’t want to stand against all that women fought for…. or okay, I just don’t like cooking. But he cooks! And he’s been darn good at it, too!
• He deals with my neurotic nature. I know I’m weird, freak out easily, a worrier, and can generally be a pill but he puts up with it. Hell, even sometimes my own mother tells me to take a chill pill but he’ll deal with me (or at least pretend like he’s listening, so I’m fooled). That is pretty nice, I think.
• Has a wicked sense of humor. I have what you call a dry/sarcastic sense of humor (or as one friend put it, “morbidly black”). Not only can he dish it out, but he can take it. Mack won’t miss a beat when he gives me a hard time and will talk right back to me when I’m being my sarcastically wonderful self.
• Loves family. Mack has amazing relationships with his family and loves researching his families history. He also digs my family and will hang out with them and be a good sport about it. Also: my nephew adores him. I think even more than me (traitor).
• Spoils me. Just today he surprised me by getting concert tickets I’ve been moaning over for the past week. Flogging Molly will be down in Orlando for my birthday next weekend and what does he do? Goes behind my back to surprise me. My black mood I’ve had all week? Instantly lifted.
• Shares the same interests as me (or at least appeases my strange tastes). Does Mack have interest in my endless fascination with people watching? Potentially not, but he at least pretends like he finds it interesting. What about my obsession with CSI and Ghost Hunters? I don’t think he particularly cares but he’ll at least watch them with me. Mack will also go on long walks (or drive with me to random locations) and stand patiently while I take endless photographs of nature. Nice boyfriend? I think so.
• Loves my stupidly-smart cats (even if it is against his will). When I got Blue somehow, someway, Blue and Mack really bonded and Blue became Mack’s cat. Similarly with Bucky. Brutus, on the other hand, has a real love-hate relationship with Mack. When we first started dating, Brutus adored Mack, but now treats him with open hostility. How does Mack handle the hate? Letting the diva have his way and even pretends like he doesn’t notice when Brutus cuddles up to him in the middle of the night. He teases me that I make the cats neurotic but loves them, and me, anyway.
• Loves helping animals. I think since we have started dating, we’ve rescued two turtles, two birds, and who-knows how many other animals. Unfortunately, he won’t let me keep every stray animal we find, but at least he’ll help me make sure they’re safe. And, he cares.

I can go on, but seriously? I don’t need him to tell me to make a blog post (with the topic “how awesome Mack is”) to discuss his many virtues.

Plus, it’s not nice to brag too much.

Technorati Tags: relationships, boyfriend, romance, lists, significant other, spoiled, virtues, flogging molly concert, tickets, relationship

Since tomorrow is Ash Wednesday I thought it would be a great time to broach this “sensitive” subject: I live with my boyfriend. Before you die from the collective gasps (although my living arrangements are stated in the header of the site), realize I live in The South. Typically, when you think Florida, you don’t think of The South, you know, the one you learned about so much in school. Sure, Florida is in the south, but Florida is where oranges and old people are from! You don’t think it is apart of the infamous Bible Belt.

Ah yes, but I never got specific with which part of The South I’m located in. See the wikipedia map? Yes, we’re located in northern Florida. It only takes about a 30-minute drive until we hit Georgia.

My Mom grew up in Salt Lake City, Utah as a practicing Mormon. My great-great grandmother (whom I was named after) traveled the Mormon trail and kept a diary (I happen to have a copy of said bound diary). When my Mom married she converted to my Dad’s religion. Growing up, religion never really had a role in my life, though. The only exposure I had with church was occasionally going with my friends and totally being lost when they talked about the Biblical stories and these things called “morals” (joking). During school, people assumed I was really religious since I was very, very quiet and pretty withdrawn. No offense intended, but this is what people assumed about me based on my character.

Part of me believed in God (or some divine being) but as I grew older, I found myself seeing the arguments from both sides and being undecided as to where I stand. Currently my stance is “I’m Agnostic”.

Before moving to The South, religion was never an issue. Since moving here, it almost feels like, sometimes, I’m being beaten over the head with the religious message. I accept people’s beliefs, just as I wish to have the same done to me. What I have a hard time accepting, especially since moving to The South, is the judgement I will receive while out doing chores. 

Take, for example, when I went to get my Florida license plates. This, in itself, was a long and painfully drawn out experience. Between having to take time off work to get it dealt with, insurance issues, and (oops) my Washington tabs running out, having my wisdom teeth removed gave me more pleasure than this experience. On my first visit to the wonderful employees of the DMV, I happened to go to the Queen Bee of the DMV. For some reason, she asked me if I had the same last name as Mack. Chuckling, I said no we are not married so we have different last names.

Puckered lips.

Judgement filled eyes that won’t look at me.

“Oh… I see.”

If this was an isolated instance, I’d understand. But it’s not. And it happens, unfortunately, fairly often. At the grocery store, pharmacy, wherever it comes up that me and my boyfriend are living in Mortal Sin with Different Last Names. In The South. In YOUR neighborhood. And yes, the reason why we have different last names is because we’re not married.

Lock up your house; me and my “loose” morals on are on a rampage!

According to the 2000 U.S. census:

“. . . the number of unmarried-partner households had increased to 5.5 million, of which 4.9 million consisted of partners of the opposite sex. In 1990, unmarried-partner households accounted for 3.5 percent of all households, while in Census 2000 they accounted for 5.2 percent of all households.” [page 7]

For being such a high number, and the whole unmarried partners living together being fairly commonplace today and on the rise… what’s with all the judgement?

I guess I just wish people would take a chill pill with the judgement and trying to “save me”. Many a conversation has been had around me about religion, church, etc, and while I’m totally chill with your beliefs, giving me the sideways look or making a point to have me listen? 

Not particularly cool.

I just wish, in my heart of hearts, that people could be accepting of me and my beliefs as I am of theirs. Though, that is an idea for a perfect world and this? This is by no means a perfect world.

Technorati Tags: religion, intolerance, the south, bible belt, living in sin, mortal sin, judgement, prejudice

One of the top ten things I really dislike in life is shopping. I hate shoe shopping, since with size ten narrow feet, hardly any shoes fit me without a) looking like skis or b) they just don’t fit. This is why I wear the same pair of Converse for five years until there are holes in the toes and my Mom calls begging me to, just for the love of all that is holy, get new shoes, please, she’ll pay. Clothes shopping can also be a pain since I’m an inch shy of six-feet tall and a size ten.

Don’t get me started on the nightmare that is jean shopping.

Within the shopping sphere of existence, however grocery shopping ranks as the number one thing I dislike, even above shoe shopping. Let me outline why I think getting my wisdom teeth out was more fun then grocery shopping (since, face it, with my wisdom teeth I was knocked out on all sorts of wonderful drugs and it was a one-time deal).

First, finding a parking space. I don’t know what about food shopping brings out people’s inner-caveman, but I have nearly been speared for a prime parking spot. People can be downright nasty for the prime parking locations (read: spot as close to the door as possible so their lazy asses don’t have to walk). My typical solution to this problem is Mack and I will drive near the front of the store and if we see a spot, cool, we’ll take it and gloat to those people who glare at taking their spot (since clearly they carved their initials into the hide of the parking spot). If not, we’ll walk. Those extra calories we’re burning? Yeah, we feel it and it feels good. 

Walking into the store, people swarm about, hustling and bustling about trying to go into and out of the store. If I want a shopping cart, there is a high likelihood that I will be rammed with a shopping cart from either direction. When I was living in Japan, I got used to being rammed with shopping carts by old people. Mack, my every loving boyfriend, will usually either glare people into submission as to not touch his woman or warn me two seconds before it happens.

Now that is love.

Typically when we get into the store, we start at the right side of the store and work our way left, going up and down the aisles on which we see something that is either a) of interest, or b) on our pathetic excuses of shopping lists. As we’re working our way down the aisles the following ALWAYS happens:

• Someone will be parked in the middle of the aisle. A lot of the time people will apologize for this while other times they will glare at you, beating you with their eye signals that they were there first and they are getting the $0.05 those pickles, damn it.
• There will always be a child screaming bloody murder. Granted, I don’t have kids, so who am I to judge? But if your child is screaming at the top of their lungs for more then five minutes, don’t you think you could take them outside? I know I don’t have kids so, again, I can’t really judge but 9 times out of 10 there is a child screaming and the parents are ignoring it (or letting is scream jumping up and down in the cart. Yes, we’ve seen it. No, it’s not helping our idea of The South). 
• There will always be the hot chick on the cellphone. She wants nothing to do with you and your mundane existence. She like totally needs her food (tic-tacs) and usually can been seen there after her work out so she’ll be in really small shorts and a tight shirt. The guys in the store will be drawn to her like moths to flames, even the married ones. “Of course honey, let me go get the bread on the other side of the store…”
• People like to cluster at the back of the store and be exactly where you want to be. Something about the back of the store draws people back there. Perhaps since that is where the meat is located? And our cave-man instincts demands flesh to eat. Raw. But people likes being back there and will sit and debate Every. Single. Item. while not. moving.
• Glacial pace sets the tone for how people move. When we are approaching the store, I think an announcement is blasted over the speakers letting people know we’re arriving and nothing pisses us off more then if you walk really slowly, preferably in front of us. Now, with older people I find it endless endearing. I just want to put old people in my pocket and protect them from the jerks of the world. If you’re not old and you’re just walking slow to be a jerk? Don’t mind if I ram you with my cart.

I think something else that makes grocery shopping a painful experience is that Mack and I just really suck at it. Mack is really non-committal when it comes to getting food. Usually I get responses of “Does that sound good?”, “I’m cool with whatever.” “I guess.” And “Whatever” when we are shopping together. Mack just doesn’t care what the heck we eat. Just tell him what to make and he’ll do it. With me, on the other hand, I’ll either know exactly what is wanted or I debate everything. This is most likely why Mack is non-committal since I give him so many choices he’s like “Whatever. Like she’ll listen to me anyway.”

This is probably why we let our apartment get down to stale crackers, expired milk, and popcorn before we finally venture forth for food. 

About ten minutes into shopping Mack and I will just get so fed up with people and just the idiocy of it all we’ll be like “Screw it, we’ll come back later” and leave with a lot less food than we should be getting.

Until grocery stores implement a) letting us carry around stick to stab our food selections since we have the cave-man mentality or b) put in bumper cars so I get legitimately ram people who bug me, I don’t think I’ll ever really enjoy the shopping experience. 

How do you handle grocery shopping? Do you like it?

Technorati Tags: grocery shopping, shopping, i hate shopping, food, crowds, stupid people, annoyances, public places

I am wondering… have you ever been so frustrated with something you’ve wanted to drive a pen through your forehead? Imagine, if you will, the classic vampire scenario (classic… don’t think sparkle and dazzle style since those are not real vampires; they are vampussies) where you had to drive back the seductive predator. You have a steak in one hand, a hammer in another. You see the blinding white of their chest and take aim to drive back the forces of evil.

Sometimes I feel like that. Except replace fear with frustration. And ’steak to the chest’ with ‘pen to the forehead’.

Technorati Tags: vampires, frustration, twilight, classic lore, pens, imagining, anger management

Earlier today dooce posted this meme and it was simply too deliciously wonderful to pass up. 

What are your middle names?
I have two middle names: Elizabeth and Dee. Mack’s middle name is McBride. Dee is a tradition on my Mom’s side, Elizabeth just being pretty and my Mom wanted that. McBride is from Mack’s mothers side of the family.

How long have you been together?
Almost two years.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
A few weeks. We met online and were talking for a few weeks before we met in person. About a week later we decided to date. WE WERE THAT MUCH IN LOVE…. or at least that interested in each other.

Who asked whom out?
I honestly have no clue. I think it was kind of a mutual decision like “So, want to be exclusive?” “Sure, why not.” Because we’re romantic like that.

How old are each of you?
We’re both 23, although I’m three months (and twelve days) older. I love to give Mack endless grief about that until he points out that yes, I am older than him, not younger.

Whose siblings do you see the most?
I’d say probably mine just because I have so many of them. The odds of seeing 5 siblings versus 2… you do the math. When we lived in Phoenix one of my brothers lived there with his family about 20-minutes away. His siblings are up in Oregon (at the moment) while mine are scattered around the United States.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
My constant worrying and stressing about stuff. I’m a HUGE worrier which in turn will manifest itself in our relationship since I’ll keep bouncing ideas off him and won’t “listen” when he makes suggestions. This drives Mack up the wall, especially when I get nagging. I am working on this, I swear. Plus we like to switch the realistic versus dreamer roles every-so-often (though we can never be it at the same time, annoyingly enough). 

Did you go to the same school?
No. I went to the Art Institute (Seattle for my associates, Phoenix for my Bachelors) and he went to University of Advancing Technology. His school, on the whole, sounds a little more bad ass.

Are you from the same home town?
No. I grew up in the suburbs of Seattle while Mack comes from a medium sized down in western-middle Oregon. We both do hale from the liberal-democratic northwest.

Who is smarter?
Mack, without a doubt. He’d argue that he is just smarter in a different way than me but honestly he retains all this information about anything you really want to know (as long as it interests him, Mack would argue). He knows all sorts of information on taxes, companies, hacking, you name it. Me? My interests are in history, art, and celebrity pop-culture. On the whole his is more relevant to everyday life. 

Who is the most sensitive?
Me. I’m so neurotic it’s a given.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
We haven’t really found a place that we “love” to eat out in this town yet. I think it really depends on the mood.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Thus far only cross-country. Last year in a five-month period we drove Phoenix to Jacksonville three times. It really sucked.

Who has the craziest exes?
This one would have to go to Mack since he has three exes compared to my one. Than again, my one ex probably equates to the craziness of his three combined.

Who has the worst temper?
Both of us. I don’t think I can define who really has the worst temper since we both have pretty bad ones. When mad we both get REALLY silent and withdrawn and the other will know something is wrong, try to drag the information out, and ultimately fail until the mad party decides to talk. I have been told though that I am the best at hiding and keeping my anger for longer periods of time.

Who does the cooking?
Mack. He doesn’t like my solution of dinner being cereal.

Who is the neat-freak?
I’m over-all a general neat-freak but Mack can be a neat-freak about certain small details.

Who is more stubborn?
Both of us, ugh.

Who hogs the bed?
You will not get a straight answer out of this one. He claims I am a bed hog, I insist that he is. Typically our night consists of a tug-o’-war over the bedspread while we stake our claim for the exact center of the bed. In order to prevent any disagreement (see tempter and stubborn above) I’ll say we’re both bed hogs.

Who wakes up earlier?
Weekdays we wake up at the same time but on the weekends I’d say probably Mack since I can sleep for fifteen-hours at a time.

Where was your first date?
A birthday party of one of Mack’s friends. They had a piñata, which they beat with a foot of meat then set it on fire. Good times. 

Who is more jealous?
Me. I can be downright aggressive in my jealousy. Again, working on it.

How long did it take to get serious?
I think we were always serious about the relationship, even from the start. We did our best to give it a fair try (and it’s working so far) because we both went into it looking for something meaningful and long-term.

Who eats more?
Me. I graze throughout the day to keep my blood sugar up. 

Who does the laundry?
I do.

Who’s better with the computer?
Mack plays tech support for both his family and (occasionally) mine. While I am fairly “technical” I’m by no means as super-geek (written lovingly) as Mack.

Who drives when you are together?
Mack. I have major road rage and a fairly aggressive driver who gets stressed out when someone cuts me off. The fact I have had a speeding ticket while Mack has a clean record should say something.

Technorati Tags: meme, questionnaire, dooce, relationships, boyfriend, girlfriend

Mack: My coworker J was wondering what kind of camera you are now using. I went to your flickr page to see since flickr embeds the camera information in the meta-data. While we were on the page I showed him some of your photography.

Me: Oh? What did he think of my pictures?

Mack: He said that you take very nice pictures. He asked me what you traditionally like to photograph. I simply smiled and said ‘everything.’

Me: That is true. I do like photographing anything and everything.

Mack: Yes, but than I thought about it and came up with two things you really like to photograph: sunsets and cats.

Me: …. I sincerely hope you didn’t tell him that. 

Mack: I didn’t have to say that. All J would have to do is look at your flickr account.

Me: Yes, but you didn’t need to tell him that!

Technorati Tags: photography, conversations, photos, flickr, subjects, convos, couples, talking, relationships