one of those commericals they show a guy picking up a pizza knot

Okay - so a UTI? Can suck it.

My very first UTI was when I lived in Rome for a month for a summer semester in Italy. He was a douche, he had a girlfriend, and said if we had sex and didn't kiss it wouldn't count as cheating on his gf. I didn't care. Whatever.

I wake up a morning and half later with the biggest, burning, awful stinging down there. I couldn't move. I had to go to a Rome doctor and somehow ended up with most of his arm inside of me. I now know that that probably wasn't necessary.

It was awful though. Now I know that if I don't use my Dove Sensitive soap - I may have a problem. Now I'm extra thorough about hygiene.

Though I've been in hiding... if there was a video camera into our apartment of my life for the past 7+ months... they would have seen things that we would've warranted a UTI enough times. So, I can't complain. It finally happened.

Wait, not that I'm dirty - just that there has been far too much sex and pushing "limits" (not that I ever had any) - that I've been waiting for something bad to happen to my vadge.

So, I've been off limits Saturday and Sunday off my 4 day weekend. I've spend all of my time peeing and not enjoying half of my 4 day weekend. We ate brunch out yesterday, I peed 6 times through it.

So... my point... a UTI can suck it.

2 days without the dirty is far too much.

I don't even know what you just said

A Brendan Fraser movie is on. I'll blog.

So, it's been a month in the life of Julie. A month or so.

What am I even supposed to say at this point? Part of me wants to tell you that I'm done blogging - that I've lost interest in writing - that I'm living the Happily After After and that I'll only turn to my blog when it's hard. A big part of me thinks that that statement is true.

I barely know what I should write about anymore. I used to live my days gallivanting around the city being ridiculous and wondering what the next surprise will be. My life now consists of whether or not I'll have to do the dishes.

On a grand scheme: I'm living the life I always fucking wanted.

I'm waking up - waking my boy up to say goodbye for work - being met with a smile thats only reserved for the face of a 6 year old waking up on Christmas morning - going to work - coming home at noon to be met my said boy begging me to let him make me something for lunch - eating - being distracted while eating while my ears get nibbled - taking it from there - over an hour later I go back to work - I get texts about how much I'm missed - I walk in the door at 5pm to a boy that has lost his mind without me. We giggle, we talk food, we fuck, we playfight, we eat, and then we put on DVR'd Jeopary. The night continues. And it only gets better from there.

Two years ago - in two fucking weeks - I was left by the man that broke me more than I ever knew someone could be broken. Two years. Seven months into this - I barely remember what he looked like.

We're selling stuff on CL. I've deleted 99% of my past life. The dreams have faded. The life has faded. I've spent more money, had more fun, and never had a hint of doubt.

I just don't know what to do with this blog.

A 6 pack of bud light ;)

via http://icanread.tumblr.com/

I am LOVING this quote today.

I love it even more bc you made it.

My amazingly beautiful/wonderful girl Morgan is back in action at http://www.aminievolution.blogspot.com/.

That's all.

Yeah, you're the best.

It's been forever since I blogged but it's nice to know I'm not alone.

I've noticed that most of the updates on my Google Reader are food websites, not all of your lives. We're all getting busy? We're all a little uninspired? Whatever it is, I'm okay with it.

Thanks for all of your support through my last post... The Fireman is doing great and has gotten a sick leave of absence for at least 3 weeks. We've spend the last 10 days attached at the hip. Last Saturday night we were a little tipsy and he made me pack my suitcase while he called United Airlines to try to find a flight to Vegas in the morning because he didn't want to spend one more minute not being my husband. Things have been truly amazing... I guess once you face the fact that life can end in a second, you get to reevaluate everything. Our reevaluation made us realize how this is it for us. We're going to grow old together.

Words can not describe how happy I am and how much time I spend smiling. How I get butterflies when I unlock my door at the end of the day because I know he's on the other side of it waiting for me. How watching him unpack his first box of stuff to move in just felt good. I gush about it to whoever will listen... I just can't believe that after everything I've been through I was able to be here now.

I don't know.

I hate that my posts are all about him and our relationship.. I mean there has to be other stuff going on in my life.. but, well, I started this blog to document the relationships in my life.

We're going up to NH at 1pm today for his dad's wedding on Saturday. I already know it's going to be another amazing weekend. We'll be surrounded by people that love him and people that already know I'm going to be a part of their family in the future. Mix that with an open bar, amazing food, hotel sex, a bikini and a good number on the scale this morning, and I'm ready.

All i need is you.

I walked into the ICU of the Burn Victims Unit at a major hospital at 9am this morning.  I was nervouslaughing to protect my heart.

I had woken up to pee at 4:30am this morning and checked my phone.  I had 5 missed calls and two texts from the FireMan.  He was working a 24 hour shift.

"Baby - is everything okay?"  I was still drunk from the night.  "Yeah... everything's fine.  I'm at the hospital, I'm okay, I just wanted to let you know what was going on."  

He proceeded to tell me about what happened just hours before.  He was called to a house fire.  He was the second one in a house that had been burning for about 10 minutes.  It was so black from the smoke and soot in the room he was in that he couldn't see a foot in front of him and his ears were so hot they felt like they were melting off.  When the hose filled up so quickly with water, it hit him and flung his mask off his face and he was left, uncovered, in a 400+degree room searching for air.  He tried to breathe and tried to find his way out.  He found a patch of life and dove to it - the light was at the top of a stairwell.  He ended up at the bottom of the stairs on the ground and finally made his way out of the house.  He couldn't breathe.  The paramedics ran to him and put him on a stretcher and drove him to the emergency room.  

They told him they were going to put him in a coma and put a ventilator in him while his insides healed.  He protested and they ran all their tests.  Pure oxygen was the only thing to relieve the carbon monoxide poisoning and the soot/smoke/particle damage to his throat.  He assured me he'd be okay and they he'd call me in a couple of hours.  To get some sleep.  My only dream was that he proposed to me.

I found him in the ICU of the Burn Victims Unit at 9:00am after being driven to his house to pick up a few things and then on to the hospital.  The oxygen mask had just been taken off but he was hooked up to wires monitoring him.  I laid in bed with him for a couple of hours and tried to pretend that it was only what it was.  He wasn't burned.  The damage didn't go into his lungs or voicebox.  He was "okay".  I tried to take it for what it was.

But, I was in the fucking ICU of a Burn Victims Unit.

The day before our 6 month anniversary.

My friend Danny had come up from CT Saturday day and we had our whole Sunday planned out.  Danny sat in the chair and did the crossword while I kissed the FM.  Danny was up early and drove me to the FMs house to get his things.  When I told Danny while we were out at breakfast that I'd have to send him home, he said "We'll plan something again soon.  Go take care of him."  That's an amazing friend.  

So Danny dropped me back off at the hospital at 3pm and I walked into the FMs dad and soontobe step-mom sitting around him.  We exchanged phone numbers and his dad said it was my absolute responsibility to call him if anything - and he means anything - ever happened.

They left and I got under the covers.  I got us dinner, we watched movies, and every time he woke up from a two minute nap he'd roll over and just smile so big.  He told me firefighters have special treatment in the hospital and there weren't going to be visitor hours for me.  I could stay the night.

I found a ladybug in my salad.  That means something, right?

It was 11pm - he had finally been sleeping for more than 10 minutes at a stretch and I laid there - craving a cigarette (after 4 hours) and a drink - and damning his hospital roommate for being so loud.  I don't sleep sober in a sound room... there was no way I was going to sleep in this hospital bed with the nurses and the noise and the bed and everything that comes with it.  In the morning I'd have to take a cab home while he had the fire chief coming to get him.

He woke up and looked over and my eyes welled up.  I blamed it on a nicotine fit.  He said I could go smoke.  I said they wouldn't let me back up.  He said I could go home.  I felt awful for not being able to be perfect enough to stay.

I knew I had to go.  I just had to.

I'm sitting on my couch right now - chain smoking with some vodka - and again trying to take this for all it was.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

But goddamnit... I was in the ICU of the Burn Victims Unit.

He's getting out in the morning and he said he's not cancelling our dinner reservations for our anniversary tomorrow.  He is calling me first thing.

I'm exhausted and refraining from all "what if"s.  

So yeah.  That's where I'm at.

Meghan Fox wanted to take a dump on you?

I really like this meme. Since today is my Friday (HOLLA!) with a 4 day weekend less than 4 hours away... it's time.

The perfect outfit: Brookem picked it perfectly when she made me my portrait below. That's my staple outfit. In the winter I wear jeans and a cardigan with this..

The perfect meal: Holy good lord that's a tough one. I'm so food obsessed that it's like asking who my favorite child is if I had 30 babies running around.

Okay - so my perfect meal. Well, these are some of my favorite food memories that were instantly devoured after the pictures were taken. These are the perfect meals.

Breakfast:

Eggs Benedict with perfect crispy homefries.

Lunch:

Chicken salad sandwich. This one had pineapple in it. Yesterdays had grapes and walnuts in it.

Dinner:

Yeah. This one explains itself.

Sometimes when I get sad I look at my "Food" folder in Picassa and remember my favorite times.

The perfect hangover cure: A greasy ass bagel sandwich and a G2.

The perfect road trip: Driving to go see Morgan in NY.

The perfect facial feature:

All of this.

The perfect drink: A Grey Goose Martini - up with a twist.

The perfect song: "Empty" by Ray Lamontagne. / "Got To Give It Up" Marvin Gaye.

The perfect sign of affection: Upper back kisses.

The perfect afternoon: Waking up really late with the FireMan, walking across the Boston Public Garden in flipflops for a late brunch consisting of eggs, homefries, and fresh fruit, walking back to the apartment and spending about an hour between the sheets, driving down to a marina and ordering martini's on the dock in the sun, going to the grocery store a little tipsy to pick up food to make for dinner, getting back to the apartment and having another round at each other before making dinner together, then spending the rest of the night at the kitchen table playing Gin Rummy, drinking and talking until 4am. Oh wait, this happened a few weeks ago when I called in sick on a Friday. Best afternoon ever.

The perfect vacation: A tour all over Europe.

The perfect invention: Text messaging.

The perfect type of wedding: Small, modern, summer night wedding.

The perfect album: Citizen Cope's "The Clarence Greenwood Recordings".

The perfect accent: Who doesn't love a man with a British accent?

The perfect date: Okay fine.. so it involves a James Beard award winning restaurant. After saying that, I have to clarify that the FM and I go on lots of dates now that involve trips to nowhere. Those are perfect too.

The perfect weather: 80 and sunny. After the sun goes down it only drops to 75 degrees.

The perfect party: A NO PANTS PARTY!

The perfect sport: I don't do sports.

The perfect day of the week: I love Friday's.

Happy long weekend!!!