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My name is Marie. I’m married to the boy I had a crush on when I was 12. I refer to him as R until future notice. We already have 2 furbabies, Stomper “Poo Poo Monster” a JRT, Silky mix and Axl McGreasy a Poodle, Yorkie mix. Don’t let their size fool you, Stomper can knock you off your feet while Axl trips you.


Once a upon a time, I partied like Rockstar, hung around with MTV VJs, sleazy media types, lame pop stars, drank too much, went to loads of free concerts, swore, cursed and watched too much porn.


Now, I plead with my friends to go clubbing with me every 3 months or so. I still prefer whiskey and vodka to champagne and wine. I don’t get free concert tickets nor free CDs (I have to buy my own Britney CDs!) I haven’t got drunk since my fabulous Bachelorette Party which I still have plans to re-create.


These days, I have a grown up job where I deal with the academia types and I tell you, most have egos larger than pop-star-wannabes. I mostly enjoy my work but I live for the weekends. I miss diving, wakeboarding and worshipping the sun. They were replaced with gym, little triathlons and running around with my husband and our dogs. I even use spf 30 now… usually.


I love my family (even my in-laws), Ma Bitches, some of the people at work and I’m learning to go to church again, I never lost faith but when I can’t understand or relate to what the priest is mumbling on about or they starting bitching about anti birth-control issues, I get mad. I’m pro life personally but pro choice generally. I don’t wear fur, touch sharks fin or goose liver but I love a good steak. I believe moderation is the key to life but it’ll never stop me from jumping out of a plane.


Of course, I love my husband, he’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and I’m glad he wasn’t in the picture till recently. We met again when I finally figured myself out so I didn’t cause him too much grief. He’d disagree. I love him for his smile, the way he makes things right when I can’t deal with them anymore, the way he loves our puppies, his warp sense of humour, that he spells better than I do, that he’s half Chinese and his flat abs. I love him despite the fact that he can’t read a map to save his life, that his sense of direction is so bad I worry every time I’m not around when he’s parked the car.



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