Friday, October 28, 2011

Seis.

In the words of Brian McKnight.........
(Because when I need to do some serious soul-searching
I turn to the greatest R&B singer of all time)

2005

2006




ONE

You're like a dream come true.






2007


TWO

Just wanna be with you.





2008



THREE

Boy it's plain to see.........


That you're the only one for me.





2009



FOUR

Repeat steps one through three







2010




FIVE

Make you fall in love with me.









_______________________________________________________________________
SIX

2011


$%&#....what are we supposed to do for six?


Brian McKnight never got that far.

What good is an R&B love song when your relationship
lasts longer than the lyrics.

Good thing we've been writing our own song for the last six years.

I think it's safe to say we got our kicks
During year Number 6.

Looking forward to year Number 7.
Thanks for the love, support, and memories, Officer Bob.

May we continue to cherish every moment of our lives spent together.

*October 28, 2005*


Tuesday, October 25, 2011

It's Been Two Weeks......

since I kinda/sorta ran but most definitely finished a marathon.

And I haven't had time to blog about it because of the following:

Destroyed Couch #1
3 escapes from the back yard fence.

New bars screwed into aluminum fence to increase security.

Destroyed Couch #2
8 more "how the %$&@ is he getting out?!" escapes from the backyard fence.

ALOT of cussing and heavy drinking.

Destroyed guest bedroom sheets AND mattress.
More cussing.

More drinking.

AND JUST ANOTHER LIFE MOMENT TO ADD TO THE LIST OF
"SHIT YOU CAN'T MAKE UP"?

Today......upon returning home from work, I see this.
Look closely.
The DOUBLE pane window through which my 1 year old dog actually jumped.
When it was closed.
Forcing me to make the ultimate decision.

It's official:
All the love in the world can't keep me from finding this young pup a new home.

Apparently it wasn't meant to be.

I can't take it anymore.

My bank account can't take it anymore.

You win, Reggie, you win.

:(

And who do I call when I need plywood shoved in my broken window?

Who do I call when I pretty much need anything?

THIS GUY.

Thank you Mr. and Mrs. P for bringing this man into the world.
Thank you, CareBear, for marrying him.
Thank you, Mrs. for sharing your brother with me.

I realize I am in no shape or form related to this man (unless he has some "brown" gene I'm unaware of), but he has never turned down a phone call from a crying, yelling, stressed out, Mexican woman. And I can't thank him enough.

And what makes me smile out of this whole situation?

The fact that this little girl now follows her daddy to all Casa de Bob 911 phone calls.

Too bad we have become "those people."
The ones all the neighbors are ashamed to be living near.
You know what I heard happened?

That loud Mexican chick and her cracka officer boyfriend got in a fight. He called INS. They were evicted. She was deported. AND they boarded up the windows with that poor dog inside.

But that's just what I heard.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Twenty Six Point Two

As I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

And if I die while attempting to finish my first marathon tomorrow,
I pray the Lord has one heck of a sense of humor!!



On a serious note, A HUGE thanks to all who have supported me in my fundraising efforts for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. It is incredibly humbling to know I have so many family and friends willing to support this cause.

To Uncle Chris, Buddy Udiskius, Becky Basham, and Daniel Schaub:
I know you will all be carrying me through tomorrow.
As I pray that you have met peace in your own lives,
Please offer me the same by carrying me through to that finish line tomorrow.

To my father and cousin:
This run is also for you. I will be going through my own battle physically tomorrow as I tread through each mile marker. I know this does not compare to the mental battles you experience every day, but I hope it brings a smile to your face knowing you are not alone. Love to you both.

Ready or not, HERE I GO!!

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Tonight's Blog Brought To You By the Number 5

Five.

The number of uber-hip members in the greatest girls group of all time. "I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!" Baby, Ginger, Scary, Sporty and Posh will forever be my music idols. Holla back, Spice Girls!

Five.

The number of times Officer Bob has scolded me for recently removing the manhood from his youngest child, Reggie. Apparently messing with a male's precious little baby-making jewels is comparable to murder in the eyes of a father. Sorry, boys, but I ain't housin' any more mutts!

Five.

The number of days in a work week. The number of days in a long, boring, dreadful work week. Can you tell I'm getting a minor case of "burnout" at the job?!

Five.

The number of fantasy football teams Officer Bob is currently managing from his bedroom office. AND the number of times he has regretted picking up Peyton Manning in the first round. P.S. Go pack!

Five.

The number of platonic solids. Whatever that means. Thank you, Wikipedia.

Five.

Offered "up high" or "down low" (as long as you're not too slow) in recognition of a person or act that is groovy or awesome. For example: El Aguila states: "I learned to play the banjo in an hour!" I acknowledge such feat with a HIGH FIVE!

Five.

The number of days until I participate in the 2011 Bank of America Chicago Marathon.

Five.

The fourth digit of my assigned bib number for said event.
(Do you think they assign bib numbers by the approximate minutes predicted to finish?)

Five.

The number of times I have cried myself to sleep in anticipation for said event.

I guess it's now or never. I can no longer put off the fact that I will be running 26.2 miles on Sunday in an effort to raise funds for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. I received an e-mail yesterday morning entitled, "Welcome to Race Week!" HOLY S&%#. Race week is here. There is no more time to prepare. No more training runs. And no more being picked up off the side of the road because I lost a toe nail sometime during the 4 hour time span my body was in motion. 

The participant guide arrived in the mail and I almost regurgitated my recently consumed glass of apple cider as I read the contents of the 20 page book. Any race that requires 20 pages to explain the timeline of the day should not be considered a legal athletic event. Unfortunately for me and my stupid life dreams, I have traveled too far in my personal adventure to turn back now! Can I just say "Eff You" Chicago Marathon marketing team for placing a photograph of seven non-athletic looking older adults on the cover of the program guide! What would make me feel even worse about my incredibly slow time or even inability to finish the race? Knowing seven men 40 years my superior have run every Chicago Marathon for the last 34 years with ease. Hopefully gramps has a strong back for carrying overweight Mexican women across the finish line when they pass out at mile 23!


Still on the list of things to do before Sunday:
  1. Complete the final iPod playlist.
  2. Develop list of sightseeing for the family to do while waiting 6 hours on the streets of Chicago for me to cross the finish line.
  3. Pick up super rad t-shirts for family to wear on race day.
  4. High five Officer Bob for putting up with me and my ridiculous training habits for the last 5 months.
  5. Eat diet high in fiber in order to regulate bowels for race day. (TMI?)
To all those who have supported this bucket list dream, I cannot thank you enough! You've helped me get this far, and I only have 26.2 miles to go!




See you at the finish line!!

(I just hope I'm upright)
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