No She DI-INT

"I don't know about you but I love watching the Chinese army march around in thier teeny tiny little red suits! It's hilarious....almost as funny as watching the North Koreans traipse about in thier silly little stances..."

I don't know 'bout y'all, but I think standards of political discourse are at an all-time high.

thePhil

thePhil
Originally uploaded by ethernectar.

See!?! See what I mean! How adorable is he!?

This is my One Sappy Post, I Promise

I had this dream last night that Phil and I were planning our 5th anniversary party (must be because Greg and Julie are currently planning their 10th). This was one of my classic stress dreams because nothing was going right; no one showed up, none of the food ever arrived and we couldn't figure out what to wear. We did, however, have an inordinate amount of pictures of ourselves (as Phil and I do in real life, it's embarrassing, really) strewn about the room, so we cuddled together in an overstuffed chair and looked them over in total contentment. In my dream they were all real pictures that we'd taken on our first picnic together, our first trip to twin peaks, and pictures of us in New York.

Here's the thing:

When Phil's late home from work I get myself all worked up over whether or not he's been killed in a car accident and on most occasions I work myself into tears. I try to act cool and nonchalant when he unlocks the door, but inside I'm so relieved I almost pee my pants.

When I'm home sick I scavenge for one of Phil's shirts and I take it to bed and bury my face in it because it smells like him. His smell is so distinct to me that when I catch a whiff of a passerby who uses the same aftershave, he seems like a total fake and I'm angry at him for being a Phil imposter.

I used to constantly say that we were NOT HAVING CHILDREN and when I see a screaming child in a grocery store I still say it, but having spent 4 years getting to know Phil, I'm excited to have a child because I want someone on the planet to be blessed with a father like Phil. I'm even willing to go through labor (the scarriest word in the world to me) in order to make that happen--this is coming from a woman who has pre-pardom depression.

In short:

To say that I'm in love with him seems faint and silly when compared to these things. Love is less and less a sufficient word, and more and more something we say around my house.

Party Girls

flapper17
Originally uploaded by tawnillia.

I had the most amazing 1920's themed party this weekend. Thanks to everyone who came and everyone who helped! I felt so blessed to be surrounded by so many bow ties and garter belts. Click on the ladies to see more pics! Cheers!

tawny on the stockton bridge

tawny on the stockton bridge
Originally uploaded by th3ph17.

This is an incriminating photo. I'm wearing a shirt I should return to Elliot if I have a moral bone in my body. Seeing as I do not, I'm holding it for ransom; ransom being the shirt she said she'd make me.

I Feel A Deep Need To Tell This Story

Being one who rarely thinks about the supernatural world, seeing as I am one who doesn't believe there is such a thing, I was quite surprised by the following events.

This story is in no way new, in fact I've told it so many times that when I repeat it my friends will cut me off three seconds into it and say, "yes, we know about the spider and how you saved Phil from it... more tea?" I think I hold onto the story as if it is a sign that yes, I am Phil's personal Jesus and he better love me for it. This is how the story goes.

We were sleeping. Soundly. The soundness of our sleeping is key here. I woke with a start (notice how most of the excitement that takes place in the BairdHolt brigade is at night, usually in the vicinity of the bed...see this and this if you don't believe me) and I was immediately panicked and felt some deep, primal need to protect Phil. My eyes shot through the dark and focused on a massive spider dangling just above Phil's head. JUST ABOVE IT. He had like, 3 seconds and 6 inches. Ok, that came out wrong. Nevertheless, I shoved him awake and we flew off of the bed going two opposite directions-the directions both being away from the spider of death. We turned on the lights and the fat, round creature plopped audibly onto Phil's pillow right where his head had been.

What is still so remarkable to me is that I was instantly looking at the spider when I awoke. It was so instinctual and otherworldly it was as though I had a sixth spider sense. And while it didn't restore my faith in the baby Jebus, it did make me question that whole water into wine shpeal. There are some things I could get into.

This is my One Complaint

Despite what the rest of this post might convey, Phil and I do love Santa Cruz. We love Westcliff, we adore Asian Rose (the yummiest Sri Lankan food), and we can't get enough of the monthly antique fair. BUT, we apparently moved to the noisyest cross-street in all of California. The funny thing is, when we go outside, the noise stops, or, it seems to. We hear drilling, drum circles, Semi trucks revving their macho engines, and people going through heroine withdrawals ALL AT ONCE. Every Night. Yet, in the mornings, we timidly exit our abode and find...nothing. It's all cleared out by morning. Phil is convinced that there are two very small but very powerful speakers attached to our windows pointing in. These speakers are activated every night by sensors that can tell when we're tired. Our yawning triggers the speakers and they blast heroine addiction noises into our home. Freakin EVERY NIGHT. I have learned to sleep through it, but find that my dreams are increasingly staged in the 1970's. It must be the drum circles.

Just Saw...

Mad Hot Ballroom

Go see it. Right now.

The Coincidences Commence

Last weekend Phil and I spent time with our friends in Modesto. I was helping with Hand Born and he was supporting me in my helping. He knows that I would spontaneously cumbust were I to have nothing to stress out about, so he pretends that I'm not as insane as I am in thinking I can DO EVERYTHING, ALL AT ONCE, IN PERFECT UNISON. As it were, this particular weekend gave birth to myriad coincidences, most of which were sexual in nature. Let me elaborate.

Greg, Julie, Elliot, Andrew, Phil, and Myself went to Thai food one night. We proceeded to offend half the restaurant and cry our little bloodshot eyes out in bouts of uncontrollable laughter and general raucousness. I think it all started with Julie and I imitating "the popsicle suck" which, strangely enough, mirrored a certain sexual act. This was all nicely under wraps until Elliot chimed in with "yeah, and you just cup the balls." Just as we thought this inappropriateness was coming to a close, Julie passed her minty chapstick to me and says "this is good for things." I bet it is.

Coincidence number two is slightly less sexual in nature...depending on what you're into. We were all munching away on our Thainess when Phil begins one of his songs. If you know Phil, you know that at some point in the duration of time you spend with him, he will make up a song about you, your pet, or your mama. You think I'm kidding. In this particular song he needed a word that rhymed with "soup." I suggested "poop" at which point Phil took it upon himself to plop a poop-like mushroom into my soup and smile devilishly at me, destroying my appetite for coconut soup and sending me into another fit of tears.

In case this isn't enough hilarity for one reading (I know our humor is exceeding mature, but bear with me) there was indeed a coincidence number three. Greg and Julie had a barbecue and invited all the cool kids in town. Greg and Julie have a baby, his name is Wyatt. Wyatt gets excited and he shows everyone his "lipstick." For those out of the know, Wyatt is their dog and he gets BONERS that look INSANE. Speaking of boners, Phil and I had indulged in a little marital bliss earlier in the evening and as a result, I had a bit of a stain on my incredibly cute layered black skirt. Do it. Call me Monica. I dare you. While at the barbecue, the spinach dip on Phil's bread (I'm being serious) dropped ever-so-cum-like on my skirt, thus creating a NEW stain. I rushed into the kitchen to show Julie and Elliot and OH THE LOOK OF HORROR IN JULIE'S EYES. She thought I had been holding Wyatt and that he had lost a bit of his manhood on my skirt.

Humor at its finest...depending on what you're into.