So the biggest month in my marriage is about to begin at the end of this month.

A month of festivities and parties and anger(That's right, anger. Lots of anger AND frustrations I'm afraid.) and joy(Hopefully.....) and my husband being the most excited, ADD man on the planet and lots of beer and more beer and friends and country pride and getting lucky every single night :) and soccer. Lots and Lots of Soccer.

That's right, you guessed it. World Cup. If you didn't already start your own count down to the games. The games officially begin this Friday. And my house is in a frenzy.

Zach loves Christmas. Like every year, he becomes this un-characteristic optimist and everything is all rainbows and butterflies with him. It kind of freaks me out a little bit. I'm not going to lie.

The World Cup is like Christmas for him on steroids.

I mean seriously. Christmas happens every year. The World Cup only occurs once every four years.

It's a big deal for us.

Mainly for Zach, but the Football Fever catches on and even the girls are excited.

Stella loves soccer(Ahem. Watching Soccer.) anyways, because it's something her and her dad have always done.

Zach is notorious around our house for wasting(According to me....) his Saturday and Sunday mornings(Sundays we don't go to church until 11, there is plenty of time to sleep in.) by getting up earlier on those days than his work mornings to watch a game, whether on TV or just on the Internet. Stella, being the early riser she is, usually joins him. They snuggle together on the couch and cheer for Manchester United or whoever is not Man U but going to give them higher status in the blah blah blahs.

So, here we are. Four days out.

The World Cup is in South Africa this year. I know, that's what I said? South Africa? Really? I mean, I want to go to Africa as much as the next bleeding heart, but an event this big is in my opinion a little dangerous.

But what do I know?

Well, I do know that Zach told me yesterday, I better watch everything I want to on DVR because it's about to get erased. What with two games a day being recorded for at least the next two weeks. Plus each game is like three hours of recording time, in HD if possible. You know, we have to make sure that any over time gets recorded! That means I need to watch the season finale of Glee(Which I got irritated with. I hate a show with an agenda. I mean, I get the important message blah, blah, blah. I don't need a 10 minutes lecture on the dangers of using the word "Fag" and trust me, nobody watching that show does either. You're preaching to the choir here folks, enough with the social agendas.) and a couple episodes of Top Chef Masters I've been putting off.

This whole week in fact is like preparation for the games. Oh my. It's for sure the biggest sporting event, maybe the biggest event period, in our families little lives.

Maybe you think this can't possibly be that big of a deal to us? I mean, soccer is almost non-existent in America besides the Beckhams, who I must say represent a little more than just soccer. But to you I would say, then you haven't sat through the qualifiers, friendlies, tune-ups and every other game between June 2006 and now. Yes, that's right.

But I did know what I was getting into when I married him.

Our summer of 2002, after we graduated high school, the World Cup was some where. I can't remember. But most of the games were on in America at 4:00 AM and Zach was up for every single one of them. He even told me I came over for one and brought him breakfast. I don't remember. But seriously, wasn't I a good girlfriend? He also says I slept through the whole thing. Can you blame me?

Anyways. I'll stick to soccer. And boys who watch soccer. And parties where both females and males are represented.

Sorry ladies. But I did the whole girls night out thing. And yikes. All I can say is yikes.

I mean, I only knew one of the ladies in all fairness and she's a good friend. So I can't complain too much. Plus, I did have fun.

But. Oh man. Yikes. I left depressed. And it wasn't any one's fault. One of the girls just has had a really, really, really rough time. And I think I'm scarred.

Like, if someone suggests a Girl's Night, I might be afraid to accept. One on ones, totally fine. You expect a certain amount of heart-to-heartness. But.... in a group setting it comes out more like group therapy. And girls have a way of over-sharing so that the girl with all of the problems doesn't feel left out.

And. Um. I'm sad just thinking about it.

On my last blog I said that if I met you, I probably wouldn't have a heart to heart with you. And after I wrote it, I actually felt bad about it. Like I was being stuck up and maybe my sarcasm had gone a little too far.

But. I think I'm going to stick with it. For now. Yep. I'll stand by the statement.

Don't think I'm a bitch. Or do. I guess. If that's what you need, go ahead. I'll deal.

No more blind friendship-dates though, ok?


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