My stomach is writhing. I will spare you the details, but I’m extraordinarily uncomfortable. And whiny.

Whatever this has been, I’m going on day three of it and about ready to surgically remove all of the organs confined in my torso. I made it worse by eating extra strong cheddar cheese today. I KNOW NOW!

I don’t know what else to consume. I’ve run out of all possibilities other than to mix up some brownies. I can’t imagine that would help.

The reason I’m such a mess over it is because I have an unusually strong stomach. So whenever I have internal angst, I become a complete baby. Kinda like men… whenever they’re sick.

So on that note, I’ll go whip up those brownies and let you know how they turn out. Cause at this rate they’re destined to come out, one way or another.

Boy did I get spoiled last week. I got to sit back and watch while my favorite people wrote blogs and generated traffic for me. Hello, this is the life. It was almost as if God was looking down on me and saying, “You know what? She hasn’t gone grocery shopping in three weeks. Her bathroom looks like Nessie has been living in there for seven months, and her dog has recently decided it’s fun to run across the park far far away from her and not come back when she calls. Let’s give her some friends and some traffic and a swift kick in the pants!” I don’t pretend to understand the logic of the Almighty.

There were a few things that got me excited over the weekend. We purchased our domestic Argentinian flights and started to make some reservations for our vacation. Matt set me up with a Zipcar account and we ogled the Volvo parked down the street - available to drive on my every whim. I went grocery shopping and had so much fun that I came home and cooked for the first time in weeks. Scallops and brussel sprouts over pasta with a vodka cream sauce. We ate in front of the tv. Life was returning to normalcy and I was liking it very much.

Until I got the email. The email telling me that I’ve been rejected from Zipcar because of my highly suspect driving record. Apparently they’re not into my two speeding tickets on average per year thing. Bite me, Zipcar. I hate your Volvos sedans and Honda Elements. My dog and me are way too good for your services. Guess what we’ll do!? WE’LL WALK! AND WE’LL LOVE EVERY MINUTE OF IT!

Editor’s Note: So I know you’re chomping at the bit to hear from Daniel Fox, and I assure you that you will. But today’s post is being interrupted by a different guest blogger. That blogger is Priscilla’s relational side that needs to say a few things to her husband. She was going to post this on their upcoming anniversary, but a situation has arisen which adds both urgency and necessity to the picture. The whole world needs to hear because it’s the only way she can appropriately give weight to the her dreadfulness and the nature of her beloved.

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Monk,

I’ve spent the past five years of my life with you, which is the longest amount of time I’ve maintained interest in ANYTHING. I know you blame my short-term interests in my love of Animaniacs as a child; the show you claimed was for “hyper kids.” When you’ve climbed into bed, pulled the comforter up to your chin, and closed your eyes, and I suddenly run into the room to jump on the bed flopping all over your chest and crying out “Wake up! I want to play!” I can totally understand why you need to find SOMETHING to blame, even an innocent cartoon.

But I haven’t grown tired of you. And I can’t see myself ever growing tired of you. On the contrary, I feel like I’m just starting to get to know you. You’re the most complex and fascinating person I’ve ever met. I love the way your brain works, and I love that I don’t even really know how your brain works. I fell in love with your brain five years ago even though my brain could hardly keep itself focused on your brain because you kept walking around… being all tall, dark and handsome and whatnot. And that can NOT be blamed on Animaniacs, thankyouverymuch!

Before I met you I was erratic and unpredictable, even to myself. I haven’t lost my urge to do spontaneous things, nor have you doused my creativity. Instead I can walk forward with the plan (that was planned out!) and follow through on it (for the first time ever!) because with you I feel… safe.

I could never put into words the respect I have for you. You knew going into this how much I idolized my dad, how much I wanted to be just like him. And now I can say, and I know my dad would be happy to hear, that you are the one I want to be just like. I’ve never met anyone with such an inherent understanding of truth. Someone whose judgment is rarely blurred, and whose word is never compromised. You are a man that others respect, a person that others want to follow. And that’s why it makes complete Calvinistic sense to me that I wound up with you. Because it’s clear to everyone involved that I need your assistance in that area of my life.

With you I’ve found someone who embraces his inner nerd and adores mine. The plethora of jingles we’ve written about our pets is proof positive of that. With you I’ve mellowed, and can now appreciate the viewpoints of others who might disagree vehemently with me. With you I’ve found courage to try things I only ever dreamed of, knowing that to you I’ll never be a failure. With you I’ve learned that I don’t need to shout, or stand upside down on a rooftop, because I’m going to be heard.

I’m always going to be heard. You have no idea how good that feels.

And I’m always heard even when what I say is Bad News Bears.

We have worked so hard to develop that safe, communicative place with one another. After all of the hard work and all of those trips to see our crazy marriage counselor, you’d think we would have it down pat. But alas, I wind up thinking only about number one as has been the case lately, and I am a total jerk to you. I’ve dropped the ball, let you down, and hurt you.

Hurting you makes me feel more manic than all the heartache I’ve ever felt in my life. It makes me want to run away. And if I had a bike, I’d hop on it and drive to the end of the street and sit by the stop sign in hopes that being that far away from you would make my insides stop twisting. But my insides would twist away, because I can never have back the time I spent being hurtful to you, putting myself first, and acting like a child.

A week from today is our anniversary. Four years. Anniversaries and birthdays should always be a time of celebration, but somehow with us they’re always the days that wrecking balls are dropped on our relationship. And here we are, a week before that date and the wrecking ball has fallen and you have, for the 4,579th time, forgiven me. You have loved me and taken me back. You have fought for me and on my behalf. You have once again shown me that we can make it through anything.

A boy once kissed me and afterwards I looked up at him and said “You are SO out of my league.” It was the statement that did the whole relationship in.

But everybody here knows it, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. MATTHEW HOFMANN, YOU ARE SO OUT OF MY LEAGUE. I don’t care if it goes to your head because it SHOULD. And I know that it won’t do the whole relationship in, because I’ve said worse things to you and we’ve survived.

All of this needs to be said to you NOW because I want next Thursday night. I want our anniversary for US. Just like I want 10 days with you in Patagonia… all to myself. Because it’s not vacation if you’re not having sex.

And maybe on Thursday night, maybe then we can sit at the dining room with takeout from Bobs Food and a glass of cheap wine and revel in each others’ company. You choose the music. Seriously.

I owe you my life and my sanity and all of the happiness that I currently possess. It’s all because of you.

Entreat me not to leave you or to return from following after you. For where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the Lord do that to me and more if anything but death parts me from you.

1. Buying a claw clipper and attempting to clip Mojo’s back claws.
2. Believing Matt when he said Wolfenstein was a “wholesome computer game just like your favorite game, Sim Safari.”
3. The Scrubbing Bubbles Automatic Shower Cleaner. Double Ultra Scam.
4. Buying an electric lap steel when Ben Harper told me that “women are usually better at men when it comes to lap slide… they just have the touch.” See lap steel stuffed in closet.
5. Signing up to walk the Breast Cancer 3-day again this year.

Yes, I haven’t blogged much about it, but in a week and a half I’ll be embarking on the 60 mile journey that left me, two years ago, with a swollen knee and a month-long limp. My sisters convinced me that it would be FUN! And we’d all walk together in Boston! And get away from our husbands for a long weekend! And talk! And eat as many Nature Valley granola bars as we wanted!

Those who follow my Twitter feed will want to unsubscribe that weekend as I can assure you it will be rife with remarks about the cleanliness of the various port-o-johns strewn about the greater Boston area. Oh yeah, but it’s totally a great cause. FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE INSANE!

Karma? I’ve never been a believer in it, but perhaps last night I was sold. But don’t worry, I’m still voting for McCain.

So you know how desperately I wanted Berlin to sleep with me last night. Well, when the time came she was totally uninterested. I put her up on the bed where she curled up for about an hour and a half. But sometime around midnight I heard her jump down and she was nere to be seen for the remainder of the night.

She’s clearly not all that bent on sleeping with us, but enjoys jumping up on the bed when she’s excited. Methinks we have not gone too far down this path to pull a 180 and nip this in the bud. I hereby outlaw the dog from ever being on our bed.

Oh man, that was so hard to type. Hold me accountable, you’s guys.

To cut to the chase, I want the dog to sleep with us, Matt does not. I see his point. It’s kinda gross cause she licks her butt and would probably fart in bed. And there’s not enough space for all of us. And we’re not being the pack leader if we let her sleep between us. But I can’t help that obsessive desire I have to snuggle her all night long. Just once… or twice maybe, until the novelty wears off.

So my husband has set a few conditions where I could sleep with the dog all night long. Twice, we’ve slept on the pullout couch in the living room and allowed her up on the bed with us. But she inevitably falls into the crack between the mattress and the sofa, which requires a midnight rescue, so it’s not really all night long. And then that one weekend we went camping, she got to sleep next to me, but she was so scared the whole night and wouldn’t really SNUGGLE officially, so that doesn’t really count either.

Last night I pulled her up onto the bed just to “cuddle her a little while before putting her back on the floor for the rest of the night.” Matt eyed the whole affair suspiciously, but I was convinced Berlin would be so confused that she’d happily retire to the floor in a matter of moments to get away from her overly-snuggly and somewhat psychotic mother. Except I was wrong. Really wrong. When I tried to call her back to the floor where she belongs, she sat alarmingly still… not budging an inch.

Finally Matt was fed up and plucked her off the bed. No sooner had her paws hit the floor when she turned around and did the unthinkable: leapt back up onto the bed. My jaw dropped. Neither of us thought she could make the jump, and here we were being outsmarted by an 11 month old canine.

Holy cow, was I in hot water. I was responsible for teaching her this bad habit that we’d never be able to unteach. (I’m also somewhat responsible for her recent hovering under the kitchen table. Let’s not even go there).

After a lengthy discussion that lasted until midnight, we came to the compromise that if I can teach her to obey my voice commands, then she’s allowed on the bed for 5 minutes of cuddling before we go to sleep. After that, she needs to jump down and go to her doggy bed. I’m convinced that she can learn how to do this. I think.

I’m going to try tonight for the first time, although the temptation is hovering over me like a three-layer chocolate cake that is ALL MINE FOR THE EATING. Matt’s driving to NJ today, so I’ll be spending the night alone. It wouldn’t be SO bad for me to let her spend the whole night in bed with me, would it???