Hello 1950's

First thought of note... Lily (a.k.a tiny toy poodle, black, looks like a mini-teddy bear because she hasn't been groomed in 6 weeks) wakes me up this morning. She doesn't just *wake* me up... she comes flying into the bedroom after husband has walked her, and she is lightening speed type flying, arms spread out onto my head... followed by much kissing. This = blissfully happy.
Second thought of note... Hubby and I took Lily for a walk in Piedmont park. Anyone with a bit of common sense KNOWS you take puppy poop picker uppers. Its common ettiquette. WELL. I had left mine, therefore when Lily did her business, I made husband stand with her and I ran to go grab the picker uppers (ok.. bags) and a woman sarcastically informed me in her too tight yoga pants "You are supposed to clean that uuuuppp...." as she and her walking partner pranced by. I stopped, turned around and said " I AM! THANK YOU! " Bitch. Of course later I thought of all of the witty and sarcastic things that I should have actually said to her and her prissy self... but I didn't. So does this mean I am the bigger person? Or... not fast enough... ehh.. who cares.
Third thought of note... We just celebrated 2 years. Cool. 2 years marriage... but almost 7 years together. For all of that time I have hated cooking. HATED. I would rather hit up Subway than cooking.. I am fiercely independent. I fought him for the first year of our marriage trying to make sure he knew that just because we got married didn't mean he "owned" me... (of which he would NEVER in a million years pretend to be attempting). I also fought to make sure that he knew I was NOT a Southern Belle (God bless you ladies, though)... I was born in the Midwest, and we work, and we work hard. The first trip we ever took was with a group of friends (he and I were NOT dating) and I was one of the few girls willing to climb up and down the rain filled "mountains" in North Georgia... playing capture the flag, in the dark. It was dirty and muddy.. and FABULOUS. I loved it. I loved to play hard. With that said... I have to admit, I never cooked because I didn't want him to get the impression that I was going to do the "wifely duties" of cooking, cleaning, ironing, having a gin and tonic ready for him when he walks in the door... lol. Hello 1950's.... With all of that.. and my 'fierce independence' I have to admit... i'm starting to like cooking.... *ahem*...
yes... its true. I actually googled "Is there a diference in recipes, between melted butter and softened butter?" .. all because I wanted to know the chemical reason for the difference... its becoming a little fascinating to me... grr..... well, there it is... not just me the hairstylist, but me the wife.....