Bad Girlfriend

I wish it was the song I was referring to but after just having lunch with Ceej I felt like I had to post something about it.

Our relationship is nothing short of wonderful. He's a great listener, a great musician, and most of all, just an all around great person to be with. You just want to wrap his aura around yourself like a warm blanket.

But over the past couple of months he's been growing out a beard. Not just any beard. I'm talking about a full on, pirate/homeless/Merlin beard. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I HATE the beard. It gives him a unique look, which is why I think he loves it so much. That and the fact that it's gotten him some minor parts on TRUE BLOOD and some Disney show, SUITE LIFE ON DECK I think is the full title. The one with the adorable twin brothers.

Anyway, we got in to a little debate at Marie Callendars about how now he is not only not going to shave the beard but now is not going to get the previously agreed upon haircut because then it wouldn't "go with the totally awesome beard"... you're sensing my mounting frustration, aren't you?

So what started out as an I-miss-you-can't-wait-to-have-lunch-together ended as a soft-hug and grandpa-like goodbye kiss.

It's not the overgrown hippie hair and Merlin beard I object to as much as the fact that I just miss his face. Rubbing my check on a mountain of brillo pad just isn't as nice as skin-to-skin. And Ceej really does have nice skin for a man who eats so much sugar it should warrant teenage acne.

*Sigh*

So I've given myself the title of "bad girlfriend" for the day and even punished myself with a Mrs. Fields oatmeal raisin cookie. I'm sure once he reads this part I'm going to get an earful about how treats are off limits until next week as part of our Vegas-Ready diet. Not to mention that running on the treadmill is going to be harder now. It's true that refined sugar slows you down, in every single possible way. See? I'm blogging when I should be hunting for a caterer. Speaking of which, I need to return some phone calls. And I have to leave for a scout in 45 minutes and my to-do list is still non-existent.

I could have done without the cookie. But immediate gratification with me is usually followed closely with regret. Because I am certainly not going to get closer to looking like this with cookie remorse:

I'll try again tomorrow. And I'll stop trying to change the people I love. Sorry babe, and please save yourself from the cookie remorse. I've done enough damage for one day!