We all thought she was going to be in Tennessee for another week working. Apparently the hospital decided they didn’t want her anymore. So now our household will be lacking not one, but two weeks’ worth of the breadwinner’s paychecks. How awesome. (Not that this doesn’t happen every single time Mom’s contract runs out.)

Also, a certain someone I work with is a huge bitch. For whatever reason, she’s decided to give us all shitty schedules, delete our photos, steal our sales to up her own shitty PRS, and basically act like a general douchebag. I am fairly certain they will fire her after the Christmas season, I just don’t know if I can wait that long.

After work, I went to Wal-mart to pick up a few things and get McDonald’s to take to Josh while he was at work. As soon as I get the food, a massive sheet of rain begins to drop on the parking lot. Since it was so sudden and the asphalt was so dry, I jogged through four-inch puddles all the way to my car, and drove about 15 miles an hour the rest of the night to avoid hydroplaning on my bald tires that I can’t afford to replace right now.

And last night, apparently Jennifer’s ex-husband decided to physically abuse his entire family, including Sydney and Cameron, his new wife, and her two boys. So they stayed with us last night while Jen went to the police department only to be told that Donnie has every right to “discipline his children.” GAG.

Yesterday was just SO FULL of wonderful things I nearly peed my pants.

Despite having a job now and managing to get around 30 hours a week for the past few weeks, I can’t seem to save any money. Rent’s due. My car needs an alternator. Oh, and my car needs a new belt (which still has not been put on, three weeks later). Wait, my car also needs a new battery because I fried it when the alternator went out. I need new clothes for my job. Look, a stain got on my new work khakis, so I’m going to have to get another new pair.

And on and on and on.

Josh and I recently booked important portions of our honeymoon – the hotel and the plane tickets. But I’d already had the money saved up for that for a while. Yeah, I am paying for the honeymoon in its entirety myself. But I chose to do so. Why? Because I had a few thousand dollars laying around at the time we decided to get married, so I just didn’t spend it.

But now, we’re both supposed to be helping save for the house down payment. And sometimes I don’t know if I’m mad at Josh, or just jealous, or if I have any right to be either of those things. Last night, for example, he told me he just spent $60 on his credit card on another Lego set. I sort of got pissed and didn’t talk to him much until he went to work. So I tried to figure out why I felt that way.

Between us, we have about three fifths saved of what I would like to have saved by the time we go looking for a house. Two of those three fifths are in my bank account, and are from the inheritance my great grandmother left me. In fact, I don’t even know if Josh has more or less than his fifth, because he hardly ever tells me anything about his money situation or how much he’s saving. Sure, it’s not technically my business yet, but I would like to know that he’s putting in as much effort as me.

Yes, I have spent unnecessary money this summer. I bought an Xbox 360. But who did I buy it for, for the most part? (Just guess.) And I also bought a very expensive camera lens. But, even Josh would argue that isn’t an unnecessary expense, because it will hopefully help me make money in the long run by being able to take better pictures.

This summer, Josh has now spent a total of about $500 on Legos. Yes, he did use his tax return to pay for most of it, so can I begrudge him? Yes, he makes more money from his job than me, so should I really be upset/jealous when he buys things he wants, rather than saving extra towards our house? Maybe I just wish I was making enough money to buy toys and movies and video games that I want. Then again, I am pretty sure if I were making any extra money, I would still want to put it all towards the house. But can I be mad at him for not thinking the same way I do about money?

I will say that he’s gotten much better about spending his money lately, not buying any movies or any more video games since the Lego DS game he got a couple months ago. But then he drops $60 in a heartbeat.

I guess I just don’t want to feel, the way I do, that I’m trying harder than him to save – that more of my money will be spent on something for US, while more of his money is being spent on things for HIM. Right now, I feel like all the extra hours I pick up at work are so I can save more money to make up for what he’s NOT saving, you know? I mean, I could blow all the money I have saved right now on getting a head start paying back my student loans, but I made a list of priorities, and I decided to put the house on top. Sometimes, I just feel like he hasn’t done the same.

I’m pretty sure this year has flown by faster than the last. We’ve been together two whole years. In less than a year, we’ll be married. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know you well enough to be sensible about getting married. Two years? That’s hardly enough to get to know someone. Still, if I know anything for certain, it is that I love you. And if after 50 years I still don’t know everything about you, I know I’ll still be glad I married you, and love you even more.

This anniversary was considerably better than our first. This time, I woke up with you kissing me when you got home from a long night of work. This time, there were wildflowers and roses next to the bed. This time, when I woke up for the day, you were still there in bed next to me.

I spent a long time planning something special for this anniversary. Never before have I put in so much work for a single person. My effort seemed to make you feel down, as though the flowers you brought home were somehow diminished by my own gift to you. Well, honey, those flowers are extra-special – they’re the first you’ve ever brought me. I’m not going to forget that.

My gift was even shorter-lived than the bouquet still standing on the nightstand. Mine was a gift of food. You already know how big a deal that was. I’ve never cooked anything more complicated than a pancake before, let alone an entire four-course meal of foods I’ve never made before to be shared with another person. I even made sure the house was entirely empty except for us, so we could enjoy a private afternoon together. I hoped against hope that everything would come out alright, that nothing would taste like toe jam, or give us food poisoning. After over seven total hours of cooking, we sat down together, and eyed each other as we each took our first bites. The appetizers – gougeres, or cheese balls, as I prefer to call them – were a bit moist in the center, but good. Then you helped me rip up the romaine lettuce to toss with the homemade caesar dressing. We agreed that while good, there was too much of everything but lettuce; next time we’ll use a bigger bowl and rip up a couple more heads. Then came the main course. I decided to keep this part simple. Small dinner rolls, which you surprisingly preferred to the larger rolls I had envisioned; mashed potatoes, peeled and mashed by myself, just needed a bit more salt; but the herb-roasted chicken – my, we both were blown away by that. It was one of the most delicious meats I’ve ever had, and I had the pleasure of making it myself. I couldn’t contain my elation at the prospect that I could be a really good cook. That chicken will certainly be a staple in our family dinners in the future.

Then came the apple tart. I had never even seen a tart in person prior to making this one. I think we agreed on this as well – it came in second to the chicken both in appearance and flavor, but it was a close second, and very delicious. Even the homemade crust and raspberry drizzle was amazing.

I begged you to be honest with me, to tell me if there was anything you didn’t like so that I knew not to make it again. You insisted I was full of crap, and took seconds of everything – including the tart and cheese balls – to work with you for your lunch.

After the dinner we showered together, and you washed the day’s cooking from my body. Though still alone in the house, we went upstairs to our bedroom, and loved each other. It was hardly different from any other of our afternoons in bed together, but that made it no less special to me. Every time I’m with you, my heart is filled again with the extraordinary emotions I feel for you.

You went to work after that. I won’t deny that I would have liked for you to stay home with me that night, but I know you’d tried to ask off and it couldn’t happen. And the fact that you reluctantly did not call in “sick,” simply because you did not want to leave your co-workers struggling through the night without you, is pretty awesome. I know that I can rely on you when it is truly important to me.

Next year, we may not bother to celebrate this day of the year. I’m sure we will acknowledge it, but we will have a new day to celebrate from then on – the anniversary of our wedding. But I will never forget the day of our first date, or the day you proposed to me, or the first night that we made love.

Always and forever, my darling,

Michelle

Monday was just a lot of paperwork, and some computer classes and quizzes. Yesterday I took some more of the computer courses, but I also got to play in the camera room since business was slow. The manager was my model, and she showed me all of the different required poses for a shoot, and gave me little tips on how to ensure I don’t have to drag or crop my image as much in the computer. She did say, however, that I didn’t need to do much because I have a good eye for natural composition – something I already knew. :) I hate to say this, but I am much smarter than the studio manager I work for. I have a feeling that under the right opportunities, I could be a studio manager, and possible area manager, in no time, which would provide a decent amount of income.

According to one of my training courses, though, I am to earn a one dollar raise within at least six months of my hire date. There are two training programs, and I get a 50 cent raise for each one I complete and pass certification for. Well, obviously I’m going to try and get through these as quickly as possible, because that will bump me to $8.25 an hour. This would be enough to guarantee our ability to buy a house, if I could only keep full-time hours at the studio. Unfortunately, my manager says the hours fluctuate for everyone at the studio at the same times every year. Still, this is a good way for me to have some income while being able to work on my own personal photography business as well.

I also get a Sears discount card, which gives me 20% off clothes there, which makes them practically Wal-mart prices! So that’s cool. I imagine I will be training for at least another week or so before I take an actual client’s pictures, but that’s okay – I get more hours in a training week than I will for the month following that!

Uh, make that a NO and NO.

Honestly, I might as well not have been there. I was completely ignored by EVERYONE the entire night, including the bride, groom, and photographer. In fact, I began to realize that the photographer was purposefully stepping into all my shots, just to be an asshole. And he did not stop to smile or speak at me once during the ENTIRE evening, so I never got a chance to ask him any questions. Not that I would want to work with or learn anything from a douchebag, anyway. And as far as his awesome style? It’s all luck. He’s just got a lot of expensive equipment, but no real technique. He just takes pictures constantly and prays that some of them look good.

As for the wedding, for being so expensive (the photographer alone cost $3500), it was EXTREMELY boring. There was nothing special or original at any point. The decorations were minimal and dull, with just a few sunflowers and roses. It would appear they spent most of their money on renting out a big church and adjoining old house for the reception, and prayed the natural beauty would suffice. (It was lovely and all, but still not exciting.) The highlight was when I tried not to laugh when the preacher started talking about “physical amnesty” to this couple of 40-somethings getting married. Virgins? I’M SURE.

What’s worst, though, is that the videotaping didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. The ceremony was okay, but the dance room of the reception was kept so dark I had to shoot in NIGHT mode (aka strobey effects because of the slow shutter speed, plus immense amounts of picture grain), and it was STILL dark. I hope they’re happy with it. Fortunately, I didn’t ask for much payment, so I don’t feel so guilty if it’s shitty. I also warned them repeatedly that I did not have professional equipment. Still, I feel this is partly my fault. I should’ve just said no in the first place, and waited to videotape anything in a professional capacity until I at least had a consumer-grade HD 3 CCD camera. So, I’m just going to edit the footage together as quickly as possible, mail it to them with an invoice, and put this all out of my mind as quickly as possible. Try again next time.

I finally got a job, albeit it’s not really worth mentioning. I’ll be getting about 10 hours – one day – a week at a portrait studio in a local mall. My hours should pick up in a couple of months, when school’s back in session. Still, money is money and no one else has offered me anything. I will probably try to get a temporary second job for a bit, until I get closer to full time at the studio.

And now since my sister is spending hundreds of dollars a week on alcohol (and is finishing her bartending school tonight), I am going to assume there are enough extra household funds to resume purchasing necessities for my wedding. Which is good, because the clock is going to run out before we know it.

Also, it would appear our household will be having some new inhabitants for “a couple of months.” (Which generally means SIX YEARS around here.) What’s more, is this was decided without even asking what Josh and I think of it. True, our names are not on the contract for this house and we don’t pay much rent, but we DO contribute, and it just would’ve been nice to know that the people we live with consider our feelings.

You see, my sister’s husband’s half-brother has been sharing an apartment with his boyfriend for quite some time now. They have been friends with one of my old, old friends for a while now, Rebecca. Rebecca moved in with them, and then apparently went crazy. She’s my age and dating a 47-year-old man with a 19-year-old daughter, making porno with him and proudly showing it to people, spending ridiculous amounts of money on him with her credit card, etc. He has apparently been abusing her, and breaks up with her every day for something stupid. Arguments arose, as Rebecca refuses to see him for what he is, and Sean and Beau (the boys) wanted her out of the apartment. More violence has ensued since then, so Sean and Beau have decided to allow the situation to “force” them out of their own apartment.

Hence, Jennifer and Roger offer them our house, without consulting anyone else. Although apparently our mother knows, because Jen said she “thought Mom told me about it.” Um, no. I come downstairs and Roger and Sean are moving Sean’s giant fish tank into the great room – um, what’s going on?

They said it’s just until the boys can save a deposit for a new apartment, since they won’t be getting one back for the old one. This makes me nearly certain they will be here until Josh and I move out next year. Been there, done that, I know how this will end. I am not particularly close to either of these boys, and despite the fact that they are gay, I will now feel the need to dress more appropriately while in my own residence, meaning I will become more isolated to my bedroom, because I prefer being comfortable (ie. wearing as little as possible).

Now, with so many people under one roof (including two children), I am rarely the only one in the house. But I don’t mind so much anymore. Have you ever been left alone, all through the night, in a GIGANTIC house? It’s scary. Even with two large dogs, who I’m pretty sure could at least mutilate a leg of an intruder before he got to me, I am creeped out by this house when I’m alone at night. And last night was one of those rare occasions when I was left alone. Josh had to work, and the rest of my family went camping at a nearby lake. I didn’t tag along because I am also not really an outdoors person, and I can apparently sunburn IN THE SHADE, as my kneecaps and shins proved at my niece’s last soccer game.

As the only remaining occupant, I was left in charge of all the animals that aren’t mine – the three dogs, hoards of fish, sea turtle, and snake. When you are not usually charged with these duties, it is sometimes easy to forget them. For instance, I forgot to feed the fish and turtle last night. But that didn’t kill them, of course, since they were fed this morning. I did take the dogs out twice, Josh once, and even cleaned up the poop from the computer room that Max had refused to leave OUTSIDE. I checked the snake’s temperature as was asked, because I was to turn off her heat lamp if it got over 90 degrees. When I went to bed last night, it was at 89.

Of course, for the second time during which the dogs were left in my care, Max managed to chew off Diesel’s brand new collar. I felt really bad about this. But, seriously, I had JUST checked Diesel’s collar, because Max had pulled it really tight on his neck, and there were no teeth marks. I go back to playing Sudoku on my DS, I don’t even hear them fighting, and next thing I know the collar is ripped on the floor.

What was really awful, though, was when my family came home this morning. My lovely mother is home for the weekend from work and had gone with them. First, she yells at me for not loading the dishwasher. Then, I hear Jennifer say, “Is she even alive?” out in the hallway. That’s when I remembered I didn’t feed the water animals last night. But, surely they wouldn’t be dead? Well, pissed off, I started loading the dishwasher. Then from the living room, I could hear them saying that Chica’s, the snake’s, temperature was up over 100 degrees. I was like, what? And they continued talking as if I couldn’t hear them, so I screamed, “I CHECKED HER FUCKING TEMPERATURE LAST NIGHT, AND IT WAS 89 DEGREES WHEN I WENT TO BED.” I mean, honestly, how was I to know it would jump 13 degrees while the SUN WAS DOWN? It’s not even as hot in the house today as it was last night – and this all happened before 11:30AM! I finished loading the dishwasher with tears streaming down my face, and came upstairs.

I do not like being left alone.

I’ve had bunions for as long as I can remember – literally. It’s a genetic gift I inherited from my mother, only I received it in a much more severe form. Though it’s always been difficult for me to find comfortable shoes, I’ve never really had a problem with them before. However, the New York City lifestyle, which includes massive amounts of walking for transportation, has apparently taken its toll during its final weeks in my life. Just before graduation, my right big “nub,” as I call it, began throbbing at the end of every day. Eventually it was hurting whenever my big toe bent, period.

I have student health insurance until August 19th. After that, I probably won’t have it again until Josh and I get married next summer. So, under the suggestion of my immediate family, I made an appointment to see what a doctor thought of it. They took x-rays of both of my feet, and five minutes later the doctor walked into my private room with the images in his hands. As he put them onto the lightbox, my sister and I both gasped.

When your bunions stick out as far as mine, you KNOW the inside of your foot must look fucked up. But, I’m telling you, I’ve never felt like more of a freak than when I looked at those x-rays. There is literally at least three-quarters of an inch gap between the dorsal bones of my big and second toes on my left foot. On my right foot? DOUBLE THAT GAP SIZE. It’s like there’s this big hollow space in my foot, and this gap is making my inner foot useless when I walk. Even the bones of the joint of my big toe have grown remarkably large, and the tendons are without a doubt swollen (and what’s making it throb). The bending pain is the actual joint.

Unfortunately, I was not coherent enough after that to ask the doctor for copies of these images to bring home. And I’m somewhat afraid to take pictures of my own feet to post online, as I don’t want you all thinking I am half-shark with my protruding dorsal bones.

The doctor immediately began explaining to me what bunion surgery would be like – meaning he obviously recommends I have it done. The problem is, I will not be healed in time to look graceful at my friend Susan’s wedding in the beginning of September, and I’m a BRIDESMAID. Though this alone may not be reason enough to forgo a necessary surgery, I would also not be able to work taking pictures during this time. And since I haven’t even STARTED a job to take time off from, and I would basically have to begin my job search all over again in three months, this is just really bad timing, what with my insurance running out.

Fortunately, Doc says it’ll be okay to wait until next year for the surgery. He did have me buy these crazy expensive shoe inserts, and also told me I have to buy new shoes to put them in. This should help prevent the pain from getting much worse over the next year.

But at my appointment (last Tuesday), he pressed on my feet in different directions to see how my toes and stuff worked. And when he pressed directly onto my bunion from the side, I literally screamed in his face, it hurt so bad. Since then, I’ve been experiencing these new! wonderful! different! pains than that of the past few weeks. It will stop occasionally, and start up randomly. The joint is hurting now more than ever when it bends, though the general throbbing seems to have slowed down. I’m just soaking it, creaming it, and wrapping it. There’s not much more I can do without the surgery.

So, Josh gets to look forward to taking care of his gimpy wife during the first few months of our marriage. How romantic!

It went quite well. The manager is extremely nice and laid back, and perhaps even laughs a little too much. I was able to relax with her and I think she liked me and my “interview answering style,” so I have a good feeling about this one. She told me before it would be $7 an hour plus commission (which usually only adds up to $10 a week, up to $50 on her best weeks). But I can make that work, especially if I start getting some side jobs. And technically it will be part time, 16-25 hours a week, but since the Wal-mart studios have high turnover and constantly need help, she said I can studio hop between there and E-town and Bardstown and pick up enough shifts for full-time hours. And, come Christmastime, I would apparently be practically full-time at the one studio anyway. So, it sounds good to me.

Josh and I have, as a duo, gotten into the show True Blood on HBO. We just happened to catch the beginning of the marathon of the first season this weekend, and have been watching all three episodes every night since. I love vampires, he loves blood and boobs, so it just works for us. I actually think it’s the first thing we’ve discovered, and enjoyed, together. (Besides sex.) Unfortunately, since he works nights, he missed last night’s episodes and will miss most of tonight’s. So I get to sleepily recap him on everything whenever he gets home and into bed early in the morning.

Last night, I was completely alone in the house all night. Jen and Roger took the kids camping with their soccer team. I used to really enjoy my alone time, but out here in the middle of nowhere in a big empty house, it is REALLY creepy. I’m not too worried about anything happening to me, because our 70-pound mutt Diesel and the new pit bull Caramel would not let anyone hurt me without at least taking a chunk out of them. But when they start barking at some unseen object moving around outside, it makes my heart race. Our cat Priss, who can tell whenever someone is not feeling well, decided to spend the True Blood marathon in my lap. Later on, Diesel and I spooned on the couch (and wouldn’t you know, a big fat half-husky, half-chocolate lab dog is really quite soft and comfortable). I didn’t even want to go to bed, because at least staying in the living room, I already knew there wasn’t someone else in there.

It was a nice ceremony, considering it was religious and all. I just have one thing to say – Baptist preachers are FRIGHTENING.

A-MEN-UH!

Josh is really doing quite well… as far as I can tell. He allowed himself to cry in front of me the morning he told me, but he’s mostly kept it to himself. But I think he is dealing with it, just in his own, quiet way.

I have had a couple of phone interviews and one face interview with portrait studios nearby, but no callbacks. I am pretty sure I won’t get one because they thought I was a bitch for wanting to be assured there were opportunities to become full-time after a certain period, and I didn’t bring a portfolio to the interview (even though I wasn’t TOLD to bring one – come on, for a part-time cheesy portrait studio position? You really want a sample?). I don’t know why the others haven’t called me back. They’re the studios in Wal-marts nearby. Is it because I’m overqualified? Does the fact that I am perfectly okay with working there and EAGER TO MAKE MONEY not make a difference?

So I am going to call the Wal-marts nearby again and bug them some more and ask them why they haven’t hired me, and also call to see if the local Sears portrait studio is hiring. With any luck I will be taking the team and player photos for some local community kids’ soccer teams, and if I get a bunch of teams to hire me next season, I can make bank on that stuff. I’m not trying to sound conceited, but I’ve seen previous seasons’ photos, and I am way better than those guys, and I charge less. This should be money in the bank.

But, it still worries me that I can’t seem to get a job in my field. I may have to cave in and start applying for “regular” jobs. :(

I should also apparently be getting a $2000 inheritance from my great grandmother. However, my bitchy cousin, who had power of attorney, supposedly gave all our other cousins their checks on Mother’s Day. And, what, she couldn’t even drop mine and my sister’s in the mail? I know damn well Granny wouldn’t have written me out of her will, so if it was changed, it was my fucking cousin’s doing. And that is total bullshit, because everyone in our family knows I was her favorite great grandchild.

But, if I do eventually get that money, Josh and I will already have a very sizable sum saved ON TOP of our honeymoon fund that we could use towards a down payment on a house. So, I don’t feel quite so much pressure to find work immediately. But, we will not get approved for a mortgage next year if we don’t both have steady incomes, so I really need to get cracking on something.

Today, I tried on bridesmaid dresses for my best friend Susan’s wedding (September 6th!). It’s so exciting for her, but equally exciting for me. I truly did not realize how much my body has changed since losing so much weight since senior year of high school. I picked flattering prom dresses then, but DAMN! Today I realized I have a smokin’ hot figure now. Four years ago, I wore a 16W to prom – today I fit into a 14 (without the W!). It made me excited to start doing dress shopping for my own wedding dress. And to think – I intend to be even skinnier by my wedding!

We got our Xbox 360 from Wal-mart today. I will apparently never have sex again.

That’s all for now. I will try to start posting daily or semi-daily again so I don’t have to throw so much into one big montage post. But, one last thing: WHOOPI GOLDBERG GRABBED MY HAND, Y’ALL.