So there's THAT...

WHAT THE?
SSMG and I have been married exactly a year. (And 2 days, I'm late posting this.) After agonizing about our anniversary for weeks, on Friday night he asked me, "Do you want your birthday present early?" I looked at him so confused. "Huh?" I said. "Okay, I guess so, but..." I was worried about him. He's kinda forgetful and I thought maybe he confused my birthday and our anniversary. "It's outside," he informed me.
He's been a mountain biking animal. 68 mile/11 hour race in Breck, among other things. All he's been doing the past 5 months is mountain bike. So now, of course, I have to mountain bike. But I won't until I have a new bike. So, you know how the brain works on crack, right? I went quickly through a plethora of options, and concluded without a shadow of a doubt, that there was a beautiful, shiny, mountain bike sitting in the driveway. I prepared myself to be really excited for my new mountain bike.
I was dead wrong. That silver thing I'm sitting on is a 2010 Miata convertible. Stick shift, I might add. My fucking husband bought me a convertible for my 50th birthday. Christ. I love that man. But it's not because he bought me a car. It's because for years he's struggled to surprise me with something on my birthday and, I know, felt insecure because he couldn't think of anything and felt bad about himself. This year, he outdid himself. And for that, I love him.
On to the rest of the weekend...
Saturday morning was the Bat Mitvah. If you've been reading my blog over the years when I used to post "other people's pets," one of my favorites was Sad, Sad, Ray. His mom made me take that out because she hated me referring to him as sad. He wasn't. He just had a sad face. He was a very happy dog. The Bat Mitvah on Saturday was Ray's sister, who, during her speech announced how sad she was about Ray's death.
That's how I learned.
So, I bawled through the rest of the three hour service. An occasion that, in our faith, is supposed to be a celebration. Raybadoo, I love you.

We left the Bat Mitzvah and I tried to compose myself for the anniversary celebration that was forth coming.
Dinner at the Gold Hill Inn, which, charming as it is, let's face it, is really just a catering hall, and a Sunday filled with a long mountain biking ride and drinks with our friends.
All in all, a pretty fucking great weekend. Almost on par with our wedding weekend a year ago. I really love the man I married. That's convenient, huh?
On another note...please continue reading my blog as I have some work stories that are not to be believed. Starting with a broken bone in my hand due to an overly zealous - or hateful - member shaking my hand.