Nada Mucho ...

Sometimes this happens.  Not often mind you, but sometimes.  I really have nada mucho to say today.  Not a whole lotta exciting going on in the Fulmer household right now.  And sometimes that's good.  I, for one, thrive on busyness, plans and go-go-going.  My mister, on the other hand, does NOT.  I LOVE to have plans.  I would be okay if our weekends were planned out months in advance.  However THAT stresses. my mister. OUT.  He'd be okay with coming home every weekend, watching movies and never changing out of our PJs.  Now don't get me wrong, I love me some of that.  Actually quite a bit.  But I'm quite girly (shocker) and like to get dressed up, put on make up and HELLO, accessorize.  Can't quite bust out the long and/or chunky necklaces, big earrings, costume (that turn my finger green) rings and bangle bracelets with the sweats.  Well ... SOME people can (and shouldn't) but it is not something I would recommend.  If I stay in PJ mode TOO long I slowly feel myself start to slip into a slightly haggish coma and sometimes fear that I may never come out ... all that said, thankfully Matt and I balance each other out to where he tones down my "where are we going?  who are we going with?  what's going on?  what are our plans?" poodle-like spaztic excitement and I bring him out of old man, hermit crab mode.  However, lately we've been doing a lot of hermit-like activity and I've REALLY enjoyed it.  It's been a bunch of movie-watchin', pj-wearin', take-out-eatin' fun time with my mister.  And NOW he's leaving to go out of town and it's making me miss him even MORE than usual.  Thanks, hermit weekends, thanks.  So, to prepare for him being gone until Friday and me leaving Friday to go to a mystery location with some girlfriends (don't get all excited, I'll tell you all next week, it's no where like Vegas, but still really fun!) and not having this weekend together we had a mini-at-home-date last night.  And I made this ...

(BBQ Chicken Pizza, the secret is Sweet Baby Ray's BBQ sauce.  AH-MAZING)

Had me some of this ...

(Which, HELLO $8.99 bottle of Riesling, nice to meet you, I think we're going to be GOOD friends)

And watched the rest of ...

It was a great little date-night if I do say so myself.  Now, looking back, I should of picked a fight with my sweet mister instead of had a fantastically at-home evening, so I didn't miss him so stinkin' much.  Doggoneit.

After our mini-date I made enough time to catch up on my DVR'ed Bachelor.  Except I didn't watch the rose ceremony.  I know, I know, that's the most important part, but I'm a drama junky so I got my fix.  And it was beyond time to go to sleep.  I'll catch up tonight.  Okay, so first off.  Michelle?  Um, hello wacko.  Thank goodness she finally kissed the man because if I heard her say "when I finally kiss him, it's going to be tongue down his throat, (gag) hair pulling (TMI), clothes ripping off (right) crazy!" again I am pretty sure I might have dry heaved.  Or screamed obscenities at the TV.  Which would've have surely scared my mister.  And maybe caused The Bachelor to be banned from our house.  Of course I'd blame it on the tourrettes.  And THEN, after she tells him she has to leave, and insults his kissing style, and tells him she just wants a husband (a phrase every man that's known a woman for 3 weeks wants to hear) she gets outside and in her "sob-sterview" she says "I had no idea.  He totally kicked me to the curb" (Excuse me, did you just say "kicked you to the curb"?  Do people even say that in the 2000's?  Have we gone back in time to 1998?)  I feel really bad for the people of OC with the TV representation they've gotten thus far between The Real Housewives and The Bachelor.  Two of my CLOSEST friends are from OC and they are not pumped full of collagen from head to toe, do not go crazy-eyed/bi-polar on men they've just met or talk about themselves and the things they have like they're bragging about their kids.  Which, in large doses can be bang your head against a wall annoying too, but far more acceptable in my opinion.  And I can't figure out if I like Vienna or not.  I mean, honey, don't come home and share every last detail of your romantic evening ... with a man that 10 other girls all want ... over and over again ... and wonder why they're annoyed with you.  If he were actually YOUR boyfriend, would YOU want some other girl coming to you and saying "OMG we did this, and then kissed this much, and then did this amazing thing ... " over and over again until you wanted to sew her lips shut?  I think not.  Beyond all that, it was your same drama filled (and I'm pretty sure some staged) episode.  And, of course, I can't wait until the next one.  Dang reality TV, you continue to suck me in every season.  And I'm pretty sure I've lost brain cells as a result.  Darnit.

Well that was quite long-winded for having nothing to say.  And now, Moody Blues (LOVE) has just come on my online radio and I am going to bid you adieu and enjoy.  Um, maybe I'm more old-lady than I think ... ?