There is some sort of poetic justice/funny joke about the fact that the people who sat next to us at Wall-E were both so huge that they spilled over the edges of their theater seats.  I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't put the cupholder down to act as a barrier between me and the guy sitting next to me I would have had his intestinal girth resting on my lap.  Again, if you've seen the movie you'll understand just why this is funny.

If you haven't gone to see Wall-E yet, you must. You must go right now.  No, don't finish my blog post first.

The movie is everything that we loved about Pixar before it got oozed on by Disney.  How else could an hour and forty minute movie in which 90% of the dialogue consists of "Wall-E!" and "Eeeeve-uh!" be so entertaining and fun?

I now desperately want my own little Wall-E figure.  He can sit next to Stitch.

Also, I am horrified that they are making a sequel to The Little Mermaid. When the preview for it started Will and I both thought that maybe the movie was coming back for a limited theatrical release and we were both getting kind of jazzed about the idea of seeing it in the theater again and then….no. It's a fracking sequel.

Dear Disney,

Have a new idea please.  Thanks.

Sincerely,

I used to really really like you.

There isn't much else to report from the weekend as it was mostly a working weekend for me.  The heat spiked (oh how it spiked) but it is supposed to drop from the high nineties back down to the mid seventies by the end of the week.  I have to say, though, that after spending most of the weekend in this non-air conditioned apartment while it was super hot outside has left me optimistic about the rest of the summer.  Unlike our last apartment, this apartment gets almost no direct sunlight and can be kept at a pleasant temperature with fans.  Poor Bert (the portable air conditioner) might not get much use this year.

In completely unrelated news, last night I had a dream that one of my blog buddies decided to change herself in to a boyself and while I'm all for the "be who you are" thing, it left me a little creeped out.  Then after that I dreamed that Will and I went to a concert in downtown Portland and this other chick totally started hitting on Will which caused Geraldo Rivera to stop the entire concert (he wasn't performing, he was just a concert go-er. I'm not sure why it is important that I tell you that except that the idea of Geraldo Rivera singing would probably throw the creepy dream into more of a horrible nightmare category) and yell at the woman to stop being a skank.  I still can't figure out which is more disturbing–that Will was perfectly okay with this woman hitting on him and did nothing to discourage her, or that Geraldo Rivera was totally in my dream.   So yeah, I had two creepy dreams. In a row.

I am afraid of what my subconcious will feed me tonight.

And on that note, have a happy Monday!

Today it got up to over a hundred degrees!

It's supposed to sink back down into the seventies later in the week but today it was over a hundred!

I'm kind of excited and at the same time I'm kind of hoping it stays cool because this whole "the North Pole could melt completely this summer" thing is freaking me out.

How the hell did that happen?!?

Today is Will's and my (hang on, I have to do math) 42nd monthiversary.  To celebrate we are going to go see Wall-E tomorrow.  Will is trying to convince me that we should do a double feature and see that Angelina Jolie make the guy shoot the curvy bullet paths thing and I keep trying to remind him that the last time we did a double feature our asses ended up so sore we slept on our stomachs for weeks.

I love movies.  Love. Movies.  Love them so much that someday when I make my fortune I want to have a fully functional movie theater in my house (somebody! go buy me a lottery ticket!) but every time I think of watching two movies in one day, my butt cheeks do that weird phantom pain vibratey thing.  As I do not own a hemorrhoid doughnut pillow, and am too young to carry one around with me in public, I am reluctant to commit to another double feature.

Of course it has been 42 months.  That's kind of a lot.

In related news, we've been trying to figure out a date for the wedding… but whenever we think of a date we follow it up with "of course it's still too soon to pick a date."  This is partly because I want our new anniversary to be right (and not anywhere near our birthdays or in Winter) and partly because Will turns an "oh my god I agreed to make a commitment" shade of green whenever we start to talk about when the wedding should be.

I'm fairly certain we will have it in the PDX area… but that could change.  Right now everyone is still very "do what you guys want!" and I'm fairly certain that will only hold until actual plans start being announced and then it will be "really? you want….that? okay-ay but do you know what would be so much better?  You should totally do this instead."

And how did I miss that this was an Olympics year?  I know, I know, sports are important! Physical coordination should be celebrated! Blah blah.  Can the Olympics please stay on the Sports channels this year?  There are only a gazillion different ESPN's, why do the Olympics have to pre-empt prime time television?  They haven't actually done it yet, but I am building up a good reserve of indignation because you know…look at the glorification of sports.  When was the last time you saw "Monday Night Broadway?"

And with that picture in your head I'm off to clean up the dinner dishes.

There comes a point in every day where your brain just says "okay. that's it.  No. More. Thinkey."

If you are anything like me, you try to push through that feeling even if it's ten o'clock at night because there are things that you have to do, dammit! And the more you try to push through it, the more your brain resists and finally you give up, fling yourself down upon the couch and declare that you are going to watch episodes of The Closer from now until you die (appropriate, given the subject matter of the show) because you just can't think anymore!

Now, this being the time for certain, um, hormonal fluctuations, I'm fairly sure that I am blowing things slightly out of proportion.

And this has nothing to do with anything but I finally found a way to use guns and the people who love them as an argument for the continuation of publicly funded welfare programs. Now all I need to do is pick a fight with an ultra conservative pro-gun/anti-welfare person so that I can say the following:

"you know, it's funny how you think it is perfectly all right to eviscerate programs that are desperately needed by millions of people because 'all it takes is a few bad apples to ruin the whole bunch,' but whenever some nut job shoots a bunch of people and the 'should we have more gun control' debate gets hot, you all start shouting 'don't judge the rest of us based on the actions of the few!'  Besides which, did you think that the AFT was a privately funded organization? And how do you suppose the public defender hired to represent the crazy gun person in court is paid?"

Yeah, when I had this zinger of inspiration earlier today (as I was taking out the trash of all things…obvious jokes aside) it was a far more eloquent argument…but my brain, it has hit the wall.

And you thought I couldn't bring this post full circle!

Who knew that a post about Birth Control would be almost as popular as a post about getting engaged? That's kind of awesome.

Yesterday my friend Wendy, her daughter Fiona and I went for a picnic up on Mt. Tabor.  For those of you who don't know the area, Mt. Tabor is a mountain. In the middle of the city. No joke.  It's in the middle of South East Portland and after visiting it yesterday, I have to say that New York can suck it because New York? Might have central park, but it doesn't have a mountain right in the middle of Manhattan!

If you haven't ever been to Mt. Tabor, it's a really great part of the city.  We didn't get up to the top because Fiona was in love with the playground, but the parts of the park that I saw were very pretty and I am antsy to get back up there with the new fancy schmancy camera.  Maybe after the first of the month–after the rent and bills are paid and I've finally bought a camera bag.

In other news, Will is taking Auto Cad classes at the community college and the first few classes are on how to use a computer.  Maybe I'm being a jerk but I thought that people who would be interested in Auto Cad classes would already know how to use a computer.  Will came home indignant about having to spend forty five minutes learning how a mouse works.  I feel bad for him because I know he is going out of his mind with boredom but his text messages (particularly the one he sent about halfway through tonight's class: "this must be what hell is like!") are pretty funny.

In other, other news I am having a hard time deciding if my PMS is showing up right on schedule or if someone (not you, don't worry) really is that annoying.  Maybe it's a combination of the two.  I thought I was doing a pretty good job of channelling my PMS energy into staying productive (this being a "gotta make the rent" week) but there is one person online who I would very much like to…well, to be honest I kind of want to roll up a newspaper and just bash him about the head with it for a few minutes.  Seriously.  Just the idea of whacking the dude with a rolled up newspaper is really satisfying…so maybe it is PMS, which reminds me…

When Will finally got home from class he found me sitting on the couch, laptop on lap, watching the first season of Scrubs on DVD (Netflix won't get here until tomorrow) and there was a particularly funny/awesome exchange between Jordan and Dr. Cox and I looked at Will and said "Don't you wish you knew people who talked like that in real life?" and he looked at me for a minute and then said "What are you talking about?  You are like that!"  And, um, is it wrong that I'm taking it as a compliment?

When my Mom was up for my birthday I found myself saying "you know you're a grown up when you can take birth control pills in front of your Mother."

I am a little bit in love with being on birth control.  Which makes me sound like some kind of total whore.  But, honestly, for the threeish years I've been taking the daily pill, I've found that it is kind of…cool.

Not for most of the bodily function reasons that most people like it for (nooooo babies. yet.)  but for the scheduling.

Oh yes.  I know exactly when the PMS should hit, when things will start, when things will stop, when to haul out the fat pants and move the granny panties to the front of the drawer (though, honestly I'm going to get married one of these months, can't I just leave them there now?) and when to stock up on foods that are rich in chocolate and salt (hello perfect combination of the two known as Reese's Peanut Butter Cups!).  I know when I will be cranky, when I will be whiny and when I will be, um, in other moods.

I also know when those two and a half days of "what? what was I doing? Am I awake? Oh man, I just want to put my head down"-ness will hit and plan for them.

I had those days over the weekend and while I am happy to say that I managed to push through them and get some work done, I have to ask: do other women have a monthly space cadet cycle?  And if you do, is it anything like mine?  I am spacey for about two or three days right before the raging PMS hits.  It's a fun little mood swing and Will says that even if I didn't call out "I'm starting my last week of green pills in a few days" he'd know what was coming because I start saying "what?" a lot.

It's kind of nice to have a fiance who knows that after three days of "what?" it's time to duck cover and start throwing chocolate at me from very very far away.

I just tried to use the television remote to try to turn down the volume on my laptop's iTunes.  No kidding.

Today was exciting! And exhausting! And I learned a lesson!

Today I had a meeting in Northwest Portland with a company that needs their entire website rewritten.  I know I shouldn't announce jobs before they are mine, but I'm hoping that Murphy won't kick my ass yet because the potential job isn't the point of this post.

It took about an hour and a half to get to the meeting using Mass Tansit.  This is because for some reason, Tri Met thought it would be a good idea for me to go allllll the way into downtown just so that I could catch a bus that goes allllllll the way back through downtown and out to the Northwest part of town.  The meeting itself was only about fifteen minutes–maybe twenty.  Then I had the commute home which took about an hour.  So–I was out in the world for roughly three hours. And you know what?

It left me with a headache and feeling completely exhausted.  I'm not sure if the headache was spending so much time in the sun and heat (look! June finally showed up!) or because I had to, like, go be a professional person for a while.  But either way? I have no brain power anymore and I'm kind of wishing I had done today's projects yesterday when I was feeling focused.

I? Am apparently no longer meant for the real world.  That's right.  God bless the internet!  And e-mail! And webspace for uploading and sharing and downloading! Woo!

The internet: keeping hermits busy since…um… a while ago.

There are few tri-word phrases that scare me more than

"Don't kill me…"

And of all the things I worried about as I jumped off the couch to see why he thought I would kill him, I did not for a second I would come face to face with Will holding out a gigundo bag of coffee beans. Apparently there was like a three jillion gallon bag of beans that got divided up between the people at his work and he thought it would be a good idea to come home with a large plastic bag of beans to keep in the freezer.

When I say large? I mean the bag held somewhere around eight pounds of coffee beans. Do you know how much space is required to store eight pounds of coffee beans?

And do you know that we already have four pounds of coffee beans in various storage locations in the kitchen because someone (who is not me) insists that if we find the right flavor of coffee, he'll start drinking it at home and not buying it every morning?  Because? We have coffee in the refrigerator and coffee in the cabinets and do you know what? Will?  Drinks tea.

You know, when I said that if I could find a way to make coffee smelling potpourri I would?  I was not entirely serious.

Last night was one of those nights. Those kind of nights when you go to bed feeling so exhausted you might actually fall over if your bed was any more steps away from the doorway of the bedroom. Then when you get into your bed your fiance makes sympathetic noises about being tired too and then, just as you are turning your bedside lamp off, he rolls over and turns his bedside lamp on so that he can read just one more chapter, which turns into, you know, five.

And then you start talking about the wedding that will happen someday and whether or not his asshole friend from the game shop should be invited and then, the larger issue, whether or not his sisters should be invited, which leads to the conversation about whether or not we should put faith in his family to remain civil should they somehow all end up in one place for the first time in more than three years which, somehow, leads to a conversation about music to play at the wedding.

And somehow, even though it's now an hour and a half later than it was when you fell into bed, you are suddenly awake! And talking about music! And agreeing not to play Unchained Melody and trying not to laugh about having a fiance who says "god that song is just soooo overdone" and then asking why you would want to walk down the aisle to anything other than the standard organ-played traditional bridal march.

I might have mentioned that I am kind of in love with this one song that would work as an aisle walking song, no matter which direction we are walking. Will isn't too familiar with the song and when I said "it's the people as M&Ms song and the song from the end of Empire Records!" he still wasn't convinced that it belonged on an important playlist (hello! It's Empire Records! Is there a song from that movie that isn't playlist worthy?). So he said "here, we'll turn on the radio for inspiration."

And he turns on the radio? And? No joke? I cannot even make this stuff up, this is what comes out of the radio:

"She's a bitch but she's my bitch."

No kidding.

It was the very last lyric to either a song or what had to have been a hysterical ad. Either way, we laughed ourselves stupid. And then spent a half an hour trying to figure out what the lyric belonged to.

So yeah, it was one of those nights.