MerrinDonahue.com

We’ve been married for 6 years today. It’s gone by in the blink of an eye, and I can’t wait for the next 60. I love you, baby. Happy Anniversary.

Wow. I just received a shipment of antique collectible bottles. Maybe I should pop one in the fridge to enjoy later. I’m just sayin’.

Yep. Still itchy, but it’s a lot better. The hair dryer thing is phenomenal, and I seem to have contained the hideous rash to my arms. I’m not sure if I should thank the Benadryl, the hair dryer, or Ben and Jerry. Did you know that they make a Brownie Batter ice cream? With a real brownie batter swirl? The chocolate-induced euphoria does a lot to take your mind off things, like, you know, the fact that you want to tear your own skin off. Hmmmm….chocolate….self-indulgence……I think I’ll get a pedicure now.

Wow. I mean, wow. After doing a little reseach, I came across an alternative to scratching. What could it be, you ask? It’s as simple as your sense of vanity: your hair dryer. Simply turn the sucker on, hold it close to the itch, and fire away. Sure, it hurts like a mofo, but you get at least 30 minutes relief from the terrible itch. I just might be able to sleep tonight!!!!

Still. And it’s spread. Arms, shoulders, wrists, behind the knees, on the calves, even a little patch on my tummy. Really, really, really, annoyingly itchy. Nothing topical is working on it. Benadryl takes my mind off it, but it also knocks me out. ITCHY. Maddeningly itchy. This has to stop. And I know not to scratch it, because that’s how it spread. Can anyone tell me what’s worse than not scratching an itch? This is like the 7th circle of Hell. Kevin can tell you: I HATE BEING ITCHY. I’m like a walking petri dish of some random allergic reaction. Send help. Send antihistamines. Send mittens, because I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.

I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to the tree in front of our house. For the second time, I’ve had contact with the leaves, and for the second time, I have a lovely rash on both of my arms. Poor Kevin doesn’t know what to think, but last night he finally realized how bad it is. In typical sympathetic fashion, he said “Ewwww. That’s really gross. That looks really bad”. Thanks. It feels great, too. I think I’m gonna go ahead and buy stock in cortisone. How long can this possibly last?

CNN is running a poll. This got me thinking: What is the worst song of all time? Kevin and I have a pretty extensive knowledge of music, and while “Macarena” leaps immediately to mind, I’m not sure it’s fair to include it for consideration of the absolute worst song. After all, that was just a flash in the pan. How about “More than a Woman” by the BeeGees? Or Kevin’s favorite torture song: “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go”? This is gonna take some time to figure out.

So, vacation is 17 days away. That means it’s time to start checking the ferry schedule and planning grocery lists. It’s nice to have enough time to plan this time around. I have to get with Josh to figure out what we’re going to be eating every night (and no, Josh, we won’t be having fish at every meal). I have to double check with Kev to make sure we have our golf cart rented. I need to check on prices for renting a boat for the day.
And then there’s the matter of my other full-time job…..As much as I’m looking forward to going on vacation, I worry a little bit about running behind filing paperwork and stuff. But hey….a week in the Bahamas, and I’ll have no worries, right?

100 degrees? It’s April. This summer’s gonna suck.

I love Pink’s new album. Sure, Stupid Girls is funny and pointed, but the whole damn thing is good. Besides, any artist that teams up with the Indigo Girls is ok by me. If you haven’t heard it yet, go check it out at iTunes.

So I tried Diet Berries and Cream Dr. Pepper today. As a huge Dr. Pepper fan (it’s the only soda I’ve been drinking for, oh, 30 years), I am ready to pass judgment: It tastes just like Big Red. That’s not a good thing. I think I’ll stick to Diet Cherry Vanilla.

I am her little Martha Stewart. The baby shower was a huge success. 30 people, food, drinks, decorations, and gifts made the mommy-to-be feel special, and she left with a pretty decent haul. We got many compliments on our house, on the food, and one lady told me that I was the happiest person she had ever met. I told her it was because of my husband, my family, and my friends. All in all, we have a pretty good life. Plus, if I ever get really bored, I can explore a career in party planning.

My husband leaves again today. I hate that.

This week needs to slow way down. Around 4:00 yesterday afternoon, things went in to Fast Forward, and they haven’t slowed down. I have about eleventy billion things to do before this now-massive baby shower I’m throwing on Saturday (side note: yeah, I volunteered for this, I know, but there’s something a little wrong with the infertile one throwing the shower…..and don’t go getting all offended if you’re planning on coming. I’m not bitter, it’s just ironic). I have to clean the house, finalize the menu (nothing like waiting till the last minute), schedule pest control, and in between all of this, I’m trying to schedule a rather important conference call for Friday. Plus, I have to get Kevin all the way on board with helping with C’s garage sale (and we have stuff to sell, too. It’s so very not getting priced). I don’t mind the pace. In fact, I wish it would keep up, because that means vacation gets here quicker.
Even though I’m not working, I still have a full-time job (other than keeping up with the house). Let’s just say that paperwork is my friend these days. This is an exciting time for us, but it’s frustrating, too. And now I sound like Complainy Complainerton. I’m not complaining. I’M NOT. I’m just a little overwhelmed today, that’s all. I know that there are people out there that are way more stressed out than me. I know that I’m the luckiest girl in the world when it comes to friends and family. I’ve found out over the last few weeks just how big my support network is. So….bring on the fast forward, baby. I’m ready for ya.

One month till the Bahamas.
3 weeks till Buffett (I know C can’t wait).
6 hours until my husband comes home (unless he can’t get on a standby flight, then it’s 10 hours).
5 days until he leaves again.
4 days until the baby shower that I’m throwing for a friend (and the updated list is now at 30 people…..sheesh).
56 days until my 31st birthday.
57 days until Kevin’s 33rd birthday.
26 days until our 6th wedding anniversary.
44 days until St. John.
0 minutes until I have to start cleaning the house.