Monday, March 26, 2007


Finally, finally, FINALLY!

And no, I’m not excited just because I finally got laid either. *snicker*

I think that knock-down drag-out Blake and I suffered a couple weeks ago really was progress. He made the effort to go to my favorite taco shop for dinner, got all my usuals, and had them ready for me when I showed up. We talked, we apologized, we even teased.

I’m not sure it’s all ‘fixed’ or that it ever will be, but I’m home again, I’m happy, and he’s on his best behavior. I think there’s hope. And that’s all I need.

Oh, and the sex ain’t all that bad either. *snort*

But, I’ll spare you all the gory details of my sex life. All I can say is… YUM. And now? Now, I’m going back to bed for some um, sleep. Yeah, that’s it. Sleep.

~Your Very Happy Ali and her Cowboy (who is also *extremely* happy…)

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Is It Progress?

Or is it Memorex?

Saw Blake last night for the first time since we split up four weeks ago. He and I have made a lot of headway the last few weeks, but still have a long haul ahead. I know now that we should’ve waited to see each other.

We’ve been talking three or four times a week, trying to fix whatever it is we seem to have. It started out slowly, with short conversations. Quickly, we got back to our normal ‘oh-my-god-is-it-really-that-late-already’ kind of calls. It’s been nice being able to talk like adults again, so when he asked me to come see him, I was all for it.

It was too soon.

Everything started out great. Dinner, some good talk, and he made me take my rings back. I thought that was a good sign. It should have been a good sign.

But then, all the old insecurities, the old jealousies reared their ugly heads.

Cheating. I’ve never cheated on him and, as far as I know, neither has he. But, the simple fact that we got together for the first time while he was with someone else makes him wonder why I wouldn’t do it again. He tends to forget that I was single when we did that however…

Fame. His, not mine, obviously. When we met, who he was, was the farthest thing from my mind. All I could see was this funny, handsome man with an amazing voice. I fell in love with his smile and then, later, his sense of humor. His wallet hasn’t ever even entered the picture.

Male Pride. He’s afraid that I’m just biding my time, looking for someone better. Or that I’m going to go back to what I had before. Three words on that one: not freakin’ likely!

It takes everything I have not to slap him silly sometimes. I love him. I married him. Why would I want anyone else? Well… you know what I mean. So, I think we took three steps backwards last night. I just hope his stupid pride will let him see that I am making an effort. That if he just opens his eyes and takes a chance, we might just be able to work this out.

We’ll see. Let’s just hope we don’t end up in Brokenheartsville.

Oh wait, that’s Joe Nichols, isn’t it…

~As Always, Ali

Oh Gods… What Next?

*sometime the next morning*

Crap, crap, crap!!

Red and I went out last night to loosen up and try and make things right. She’s still vowing revenge against Billy for sleeping with me, and I guess I can understand that. Knowing I was in absolutely no shape to be driving, I had a friend take me back home with him. So, he and his roommate put me up for the night.

Trouble is, Blake was home when I came stumbling in this morning. And he was pissed. He wasn’t even supposed to be in TOWN let alone home. And despite swearing on my life that it was all on the up and up, the minute he heard what she did…

I guess I ought to tell you now that she found a really cute blue-eyed cowboy to take her home. He was just gorgeous. And friendly as can be. Turns out, Blake knows him. OY! So, when she called to tell me about her night…

…well, he freakin’ flipped. Yelling, screaming, waving his arms – you name it, he did it. Eventually, he accused me of finding someone too and asked for his key back. Threw me out of the house and wouldn’t even let me get a spare set of clothes. Reluctantly, I gave him his key back. And his ring. And now I suppose I ought to prepare for the divorce that’s coming.

*sobs loudly*

How did this happen? As I sit here in my little room on base, I wonder how I managed to get kicked out of my house for not actually doing anything. *sighs* I don’t know. I can’t wrap my head around it at the moment. I’m not sure I want to, either.

I don’t know what to do. Help!

~Sad and confused, Ali

Revenge Is Sweet…

...or so they tell me. It’s been two weeks and Scarlett’s still upset over what happened while she was on assignment. I guess I can’t blame her. After all, I doubt I’d have been as calm as she was after finding out her best friend had slept with her boyfriend.

Although, that’s another story in itself.

I think I’m going to drag her out tonight for some fun. Get her out of this funk and back to herself. I need to do something. She’s not mad at me anymore, but I still feel like hell over what happened. I need to find a way to be sure we’re cool so I can get on with my life again.

I’m thinkin’ that drinks at Hangers might be in order…

The only trouble is, she feels that Billy needs to ‘pay’ for what he did. I agree, but I’m not sure what she has in mind. I guess that means I’m just along for the ride then? Guess it’s a good thing Blake’s not around this week. Could turn into a long night…


Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Deep Breaths

*Several Hours Later*

Okay… deeeep breaths, Ali, deep breaths.

Here’s the situation:

Blake comes home, best friend Billy in tow. Blake makes margaritas for one – ME. I get trashed off his sabotaged maggies, they haul me off and have their merry way with me.

Now, knowing my Cowboy and knowing his friend, and liking his friend, I normally wouldn’t be so up in arms about this whole situation. I would’ve much rather been sober, but hey, you know… But, and this is a biggie: BILLY IS DATING MY BEST FRIEND! WTF were THEY thinking?

I trust Blake, more than any man in a long, long time, but this was just dumb. Why me? Why now? And I still don’t know what I’m gonna tell Red. *sigh* I think I’m gonna have to show up bearing a bottle of tequila.

Add to all this, the fact that I’m now stuck at work, sore, tired and half-drunk still. Crap. And now they’re yelling at me. Let’s just hope they’re telling me to go home and not sending into lockup. Shhhh… I wasn’t ever here…


What Was I Thinkin’?

Holy crap… What was I thinking is right! Damn Blake and his freakin’ margaritas anyway! If they’d only asked… Just ASK boys…

*beats head into desk narrowly missing keyboard*

Now what am I going to tell Shana? I think she might just murder me. The alcohol is no excuse. She’ll hate me for what happened. And if I’m the reason they split up?

Oh gods… I need a paper bag.

~One Freaked Out Ali

Monday, March 19, 2007

Jail Time…

Oh, but it was soooo worth it. *snort*

That stupid little chit that Blake had been dating showed up at Hangers tonight. Why, I’ll never know. Unless she was looking for a leatherneck or other military-type man, she had no reason to be where she was.

And she certainly didn’t have any reason to get in my face.

I can guarantee that it’s the last time she’ll ever do that, at least. You can call me a cow, a bitch, hell, I’ll even put up with whore. But you just do not, and I mean do not, call me a home wrecker. I’ve already had one marriage that ended badly – I’m certainly not gonna go wreck someone else’s. And I’m no man-stealer either.

He left her for me. But hey, how’s that my fault? And it’s not like he just packed up and came to my bed. It took months before he made the decision, and that was only after he had reason to believe she was screwing around on him. And she calls me the whore. Go figure.

Ya know, I hate beating down on a girl half my size but she took the first swing. I took the last. End of story. Or it should have been, had her two male boy toys not gotten involved. Red’s happy – as soon as they jumped in, so did she. She’d been itching for a fight. Guess I had been too, now that you mention it.

Anyhow… now I’ve got a handful of bruised knuckles, some pending disciplinary action and the headache from hell. But I’ve also got satisfaction. Dumb cow won’t bother me again.

I just hope my Cowboy doesn’t decide to strangle me when he’s home next. And I guess it’s a good thing too that Duke knows us so well. I think we might just get off with some cleaning detail instead of some real jail time…

~A Rather Amused, if Subdued, Ali

Gotta Love Vegas

Thought I’d surprise my Cowboy a few weeks ago and visit the City of Sin, also known as my real home, at the same time. I imagined us having fun, drinking, goofing off, being young people in love.


Once the shock of seeing me had worn off, he suggested we take the plunge. Yup, that’s right. Only three weeks after the proposal, he’s suggested we go ahead and get married. We were in Vegas, after all.

After a quick trip to get the marriage license and a stop for ice cream, we were ready to go. Looking back, I’m not sure it was such a smart idea, but it’s too late for that now, I think. Albie, Red, ‘Zook, Billy and Albie’s mom all managed to make it out on the short notice.

No representatives from my side of the family, thankfully. My Dad and my brothers would’ve only tried to stop us. And his family? They hate me and have been trying to break the engagement since they’d found out about it. I don’t know what he’s going to tell them now.

And so now, the fun really begins. Or so they tell me. I can’t imagine. All I do know is that it was harder to let him go this time than ever before. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! And knowing that our families don’t think we should be together only makes it more difficult. As far as I’m concerned, our being together and being happy is all that matters to me.

Ah, to just have a simple life for once…

Not gonna happen. Not ever. I think it goes against the rules of Life, the Universe and Everything, so to speak. Well, I can make it, with my boy by my side. Time to take off the rose-colored glasses, ya think? *snort* We’ll figure it out. After all, we’ve made it this far, haven’t we?


Friday, March 16, 2007

Lips of an Angel – or a Devil?

I can see him sitting over there, lips pursed, concentrating on the lyrics he’s trying to write. He looks at the paper, picks up his pen, scribbles, and then slams the pen back down again. He’s having a hard time getting it just right today. Frustrated, he’ll pick up his guitar, strum a bit and then repeat the whole process. I can’t help but laugh; he looks like such a kid in his t-shirt and ball cap, unshaven face the only thing marking his true age.

Ah, but those lips… nothing boyish about them.

My Cowboy has to have the most amazing mouth I’ve ever seen on a man. I’m obsessed I admit it. I can’t help but stare when he’s not looking. Wide, pink lips that just beg to be kissed. Sweet, deep dimples. Beautiful, white teeth that he loves to show off with that smile of his.

And that smile is enough to make me weak in the knees.

He smiles with absolute abandon. His smile reflects his fun-loving attitude, his outlook on life – all or nothing. You either get teeth and dimples or these two beautiful lips relaxing against one another, comfortable with their place in life. He lives his life in the same manner. Which is why I love him so much. You never have to wonder what you’re going to get with him – it’s always right there for you to see.

But then, that’s also why I want to murder him most days.

Ah, he must have found the right words, finally. He’s smiling again; bobbing his head in time to music only he can hear. For now, anyway. Before the day is out, I’m sure I’ll be hearing it too. I can almost hear his melodic voice floating over the guitar, from his lips to my heart. Will it be words of love today or something else? He loves nothing more than a good, old fashioned drinking song. With my Cowboy, you never can tell.

That’s all just part of his charm.

I can’t wait to hear what he’s come up with today. I try to be patient while he’s writing but I live for those moments when he perches on the coffee table, guitar in hand, hair standing on end, and sings the latest piece for me. Then I can watch his mouth move, forming words, making those beautiful sounds, and he never suspects. And I never have to explain either; I just get to watch and dream…

And of course, he reaps the rewards later. Still, he’s content thinking it’s the music that does it to me. If he only knew… I wonder if he’d sing to me more often if he did?

~A Dreamy Ali