Sir, can you spare a dollar....for some earrings? Please? They're SHINY!!

I love the dollar store. You know, the one where EVERYTHING is a dollar. I walk in, and I am immediately hypnotized by the plethora of cheap things I really don't need.  Now, I must say, usually I go there for things like lightbulbs or paper towels or toilet paper. But I always leave with many more things than I came to get.

My current addiction is earrings. Two whole racks of earrings, that change weekly. I always pick up a pair that catches my eye because it may not be there next week. This has led to my surplus of earrings. I only have one piercing in my ears, so that's only 2 available holes for earrings. I have amassed a collection worthy of Imelda Marcos and her shoes. I am an earring addict.

The problem is, when I see an earring I like, I can always see where I am going to wear it. But honestly, when am I going to go to a prom as an adult? And how am I going to be able to wear those really heavy ones for more than 5 minutes?

My friends joke I have a cat brain. Completely focused, and then....OOOOOooooo SHINY! If it sparkles, and it's in the dollar store, it's mine. This has led to many terse arguments with Mr. Kat Lady over exactly how many GD pairs of earrings I need, thank you very much. He just doesn't get it. I can wear earrings and they look so pretty they distract from the fact I am not wearing makeup or a bra. Well at least they distract from the makeup part anyway.

He was wholly against the whole dollar store 2 blocks away thing until I brought him something from there he could not hate. Toe socks. He is madly in love with toe socks. The tackier the better. His favorite pair looks like Elmo, Oscar the Grouch, and Cookie Monster sacrificed themselves to a blender. He is okay with those, but has a problem with pretty earrings?

I also enjoy the makeup selection they have. I don't really spend a lot on makeup, so dollar makeup is good. Also being an artist with a drag queen and a stripper on speed dial ensures I keep the makeup mishaps to a minimum.

My husband is what I like to call "Fashion Concerned" and likes to make sure we both look decent before we leave the house, so he helps me pick out my clothes for the day. And he's honest, so I trust him. He has long curly hair, and spends copious amounts of time caring for it, so in a way he's much more high maintenance than me.

He understands my need for SHINY and usually forgives me for buying the dollar store out of earrings and metallic makeup. (the gold is really pretty!) All he asks is that I keep writing and try to take out the trash every once in a while.

He's so patient and really a good guy, but I have a sneaking suspicion that one of these nights I will come home and find him in my makeup...oh well, he can be as metrosexual as he wants, I still love him.

To Ferragamos and dollar store earrings,

Love and Laughter,

-Kat Lady

Wuv, twue wuv.....

I came across a notebook of wedding plans the other day. It was funny, reading my lists of "STUFF TO DO FOR WEDDING." I was so naive that I thought the wedding would be the hard part, not the marriage! Wow. It's like those Bridezilla shows, or the "You get a free wedding if I change everything about it to what I like" scenario.

I didn't get to be on the TV show, but I did get my wedding taken over by Momzilla. But that's a story for Shirley Sunday. Anyway, Mr. Kat Lady and I made it through the wedding and honeymoon, and several crazy incidents (the oil) in our first year or so. What I am going to talk about is "the seven year itch."

We are going on our 8th year of marriage. (I know, wow, who woulda thought?) Right about year seven (us being 28) is when the ball dropped. We suddenly looked at each other and said "Who ARE you, and what are we doing?" I've heard it's common to suddenly question everything about every 7 years you are married. We sat down and discussed how we'd changed in seven years. Turns out we have been married to strangers for nigh on 8 years!

1. We no longer live on Ramen and pocket change. (The pocket change goes to bills.) We've figured out how to eat real meals together, and how to budget for gas money. (that took a while.)
In fact, we got so sick of eating ramen that we can't bear to eat it more than once or twice a month. And I'm Asian!

2. We now know the difference between a job and a career. Dillons deli is a job, writing is a career. We also know jobs make money, careers make you nuts. Mr. Kat Lady busts his butt at his hotel job so we can pay the bills. (and buy cat food) Currently we are wondering exactly how much customer abuse it's going to take before he ends up snapping a pen off in someone's left eye.

3. We have to plan when we want to treat ourselves. Jobs pay bi-weekly and bills come monthly, so 1 or 2 drive thru visits are kosher usually. We pick one or two times a year to go balls to the wall. This year for our anniversary we are going to *censored* at a hotel for 2 days. :) I know, I can say the word, but I have family that read my blog, and well they REALLY don't want to think about me doing THAT. I don't even want to think about me doing that.

4. A full time job is not a curse. For the longest time we thought we could live on a part time job salary. Electric, gas, water, and phone companies tended to disagree. Sometimes I play bill roulette, and hope to make it two weeks without losing any service. Sometimes I lose. Usually I can manipulate my way into a pay agreement. Sprint is awesome about this. City Water, not so much. You never love your toilet so much until you've had to go without it for a week.

5. Love is learning to accept and acknowledge each other's faults. Repeatedly. Loudly. Yelling fights are good once in a while. Plus, the more you yell, the better the make up sex.

So yeah, those are just a few of the things we've learned. That and how to wrestle with each other and not look like we've both committed a felony. Yes, we (28 year old grownups) wrestle with each other like 7 year old boys. Deal with it. And for God's sake don't try to imagine what it looks like. You don't have the gag reflex necessary.

Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady