My 3rd Blogiversary: the one I almost forgot (AKA: she really does have the largest breasts I've ever seen outside of porn)

As you all know, I haven't had as much time, energy, or motivation to blog this past year - love me anyways? I'm trying to get better at it but the mind comes and goes lately. I just realized yesterday that I forgot one of my closest friend's (Franks-and-bean's) birthday earlier this month. How much do I suck?

I missed De-lurking Day, I almost forgot this anniversary and I don't think I put on panties this morning.

Yep, no panties.

The last two years, I've had The Thing do a guest post, but this year I wanted to do something different. Besides, when I mentioned my Blogiversary, he said "I told you never to say the word 'blogiversary' again"

So this year, I asked the beautiful and talented Girlfriend to take over the reins. I figure, it's the least I can do to make up for her mom being a whore and all.

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What a year it's been! Don't you agree?

We've had a Presidential Inauguration, a crashing and rebounding stock market, the "Miracle on the Hudson", a war in the Gaza Strip, among many other world-wide events. As Miss Fauve has mentioned already, we've had another monumental occasion just this week (today even!)…we have the anniversary of this very blog. Just as Aretha was probably extremely grateful to sing at the inauguration on Tuesday, I'm glad to be here singing for you. Well, I'm not actually going to sing. No one would enjoy that. I'll just be writing, and probably not doing that great of a job that, either. But you have to read on! It's like crack really, you just can't say no. At least that's what I hear. Plus, if you don't read on, how will you get to the end?

I've been racking my brain (heh. I said rack.) for something interesting to write about, but I'm pretty damn boring. Especially boring, now that Fauve has moved to that Far Away State, I don't have daily doses of our humor and silliness. I think it's fitting, then, to recount some of past escapades. And so, I give you…"The History of Fauve and Girlfriend: An Abbreviated Version of Events As Told by the Most Beautiful and Lovely of the Pair, Girlfriend (Not to Dismiss the Beauty and Loveliness of the Other By Any Stretch, Which is Far Beyond What Any of You Might Imagine…Especially When She Dyes Her Hair Red. It's Hott. Double T Hott. Totally, Irresistibly Sexy.) " or "The Time We Met, I Hooked Her Up with the Love of Her Life, and I Helped Her Move to a Far Away State" (Included are lots of parenthetic statements (Because that's how I roll)):

Part 1: The Time We Met

I can't say that I distinctly remember meeting Fauve for the first time. Although, it's likely that I met her when I did the usual office tour on my first day of work. She probably dismissed me as another bimbo in the administrative staff and I don't blame her. I'm pretty damn good looking and I was sooo young when I started, I probably came off as a bimbo. Oh, and I have huge knockers so people automatically assume I have no brain. Also, I had a very lowly position in the office with a high turnover rate…why would anyone get to know me if I was going to be gone soon? I only lasted in that position for six months, as it turned out (because of my awesomeness and exceeding intelligence, I was promoted and therefore became accepted through the office). Fauve and I met a few months after I started in my lowly position, when I was asked to join the Association for Stuff and Standards committee. (A.S.S.) After I stormed the group and took the committee over by force, like the good dictator I'm training to be, Fauve and I began our friendship. You see, I'm sure I cracked some stupid joke, or she did, and she probably snorted and I probably spilled my lunch all over my lap, but we hit it off. Because we weren't really close at the beginning, and A.S.S. only met once a month, I began telling everyone she was my "once a month friend." Oh, what fun we have at the office. Now she's more like my "every day pain in the ass". I'm totally kidding. Or am I? Heh.

Part 2: I Hooked Her Up with the Love of Her Life

As time went on, Fauve and I grew closer and closer and she shared with me the news about the separation and finally the divorce from Paperweight. I actually met the guy only once before the divorce and don't remember it very well, as it was at an office party and I was trashed, but I could tell that she was much better off and much happier without him. He was, after all, just a stupid paperweight. So, when the divorce was about to be finalized, I had a suggestion (or maybe she did…hell, I'm taking the credit for it…I had a suggestion). We needed to take her out to the bar, get her drunk and get her laid. (At that point, I did not, in fact, know the whole story that she had dated a few times on the internet and had already gotten laid. Bitch kept things from me.) So, we planned the outing with a few close friends, including my husband. What an awkward night for him. Long story (which you've read before) short (which you've also read), Fauve is a big fat lying whore (minus the big and fat…have I mentioned she's hott?) Well, okay, she's not a whore, either. Just a sleep-with-a-guy-you-just-met-and-then-lie-about-it-to-your-close-friend kind of gal. I've since forgiven her for the lying part, because hey, she met the love of her life through my wildly awesome bar pick up methods. But that doesn't keep me from bringing it up...did you know she didn't tell me for MONTHS that she and The Thing slept together...multiple times...on the first night?! Of course, I immediately dubbed her a whore, so I can't imagine why she wouldn't tell me. Back to the pick-up: did she ever mention to you that I've been with my husband since I was 19 and as such, I've never picked up a guy for MYSELF in a bar. God only knows why she trusted me to help her out. Our other friends were there and were much more experienced at bar pickups. Even with my lack of experience, the end result turned out wondrous, don't you think? She's now with someone perfect for her, even if neither of them are perfect themselves. That is what brings me to Part 3, actually:

Part 3: I Helped Her Move to a Far Away State

To be honest, I didn't lift a finger myself to pack, load, or haul any of her stuff besides one or two boxes from work. I've moved five times in five years myself and absolutely loathe anything to do with moving and Fauve lived quite the distance from my house (she was FOREVER south of the city and I'm FOREVER north…we actually were the two people in the office that lived the longest distance from work and in absolutely opposite directions). So, she did the moving herself. I'd like to think I provided (and still provide) some good support when necessary. I know firsthand, having moved from another state myself to be with my husband, how damn hard it is to pick up, start anew, and be in strange and alien surroundings virtually by oneself. It's hard and scary. But I think I'm good at making Fauve laugh and have helped her out a little. I mean, who couldn't love my big breasts, winning personality and insane wittiness? I'm practically the whole package. In fact, if Fauve and I were gay, we'd probably leave Thing 1 and my husband and just be together forever. Actually, we probably wouldn't do well as a couple. I yell way too much for her. And, she can drink me under the table. AND, we are both sooo disgustingly in love with our significant others that we're set for life.

Part 4: The Previously Unmentioned Moral to the Story

So, even though Fauve and I have only known each other for a few years and I've only barely written about a couple of life-changing events in her life, not even mine, there is a big lesson to take from my wonderful and delightful writing: First, I'm really not that full of myself. It's my half-funny way of making you laugh. Okay, I'm maybe ½ that full of myself. But seriously, if you saw how big my boobs are, you'd love me, too. Lastly, Fauve is my best friend, besides my husband. In fact, she's the second best friend I've EVER had, besides my husband. I can laugh so much with her every time I'm around her and I can cry with her and be angry with her and that is awesome. Not the being angry part. The sharing things part. Geez! Through everything she's gone through in the last few years, and through everything I've gone through, I can most definitely tell that we are going to be friends for a long time.

Isn't that is so cool?