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The AK’s were busy preparing for the big party last night so Rlo and I stepped in to help. Since I’m worthless in the kitchen and cleaning bores me, they found a task I could handle: taking Little AK to her soccer game. Rlo was to meet us at the field with chairs and drinks. He was late. Which isn’t a big deal, but strangers were talking to me about parenting. Aughhhhh! I considered screaming “stranger danger” at the top of my lungs to get them to stop, but figured the scene wouldn’t be worth it.

Finally the game started and the parents left me alone. At the end of the first quarter Little AK ran over to get her drink. Her drink? Shit. Rlo hadn’t arrived yet, so I made something up about the dangers of being waterlogged during a soccer game. She bought it.

By half time Rlo had arrived with two chairs and two drinks: a Mountain Dew for him, and a Diet Dr Pepper for me. He, too, had forgotten a drink for Little AK. Clearly we would both make lousy parents. However, I wouldn’t be nearly as lousy because at least I shared my drink. Who cares if she ends up more dehydrated because of it. She’ll still love me more than Rlo because I shared and he didn’t.

Today, AK turns 40. Yes, 40. He’s an old fart, but a beloved one.

AK and I met ten years ago when he moved to SLC to work at the company I where I was employed. I was soon to become his work wife, much to his wife Mrs. AK’s dismay. Not because she was jealous, but because she felt sorry for me. The dude cannot remember where she keeps paper towels. I don’t live with them, but I can tell you where they are kept–IN THE SAME FUCKING SPOT FOR 8 YEARS, that’s where. He also cannot remember that I am in charge of everyone and everything, and he is not. He’s very easily confused. Obviously.

AK and I shared an office for a few years and it was then he became the older brother I never had. He teased me mercilessly for things that should not matter. Who cares if I add a ‘s’ to street names? Foothill(s) Blvd. is in the FOOTHILLS it should have an ‘s’. He also forced me to listen to Toad the Wet Sprocket all day, every day. And did you hear? The band broke up in 1998.

AK and his family quickly became some of my favorite people, and not just because they fed me and kept me in wine. I couldn’t ask for better, more supportive friend in my life than AK. I can’t imagine a life without him, and luckily I don’t have to. We’ve been through a lot together, and I wouldn’t be the person I am without his influence in my life. I love him for that.

Happy Birthday AK! I’m sorry you’re soooooo old, but it could be worse… you could be RLO.

AK and I never talk about our friend Tim. In fact, since his death, we haven’t spoken about him for more than a few minutes at a time. It’s too hard for both of us. We both feel guilty. Anyone who has dealt with a suicide knows this feeling all too well. While we both know we weren’t responsible for Tim’s decision, we will spend the rest of our lives questioning if we could have done more to help him.

Yesterday AK and I talked about Tim for nearly an hour. It was heartbreaking, yet beneficial for both of us. I told AK I’m scared of forgetting all the small details of Tim’s life. It’s time I start writing about him, I suppose. Writing is cathartic for me, and frankly I need to remember all the funny details of his life rather than remembering the day I found him.

Sometimes when I miss Tim so much I can’t breath I think about him in some sort of after life. Tim hated religion. He was an avid atheist and took great pleasure in arguing with everyone about his or her own personal beliefs. I picture Tim approaching the pearly gates and screaming at God for existing. I can see him saying, “God you’re driving me fucking crazy with this bullshit; I need a beer.” And then he’d challenge God to an arm wrestle; the winner would get to rule the world. Tim would, of course, lose and then accuse God of cheating. Without fail, my tears are suddenly tears of laughter as I picture the Tim vs. God scenario.

And as blasphemous as this coping mechanism may seem to some, I don’t care.  It works for me, and that’s what counts.

Last night, Rlo and I had dinner with Mrs. AK and her kids. After dinner Little AK asked me to read her a story and tuck her in. This has been a longstanding tradition between the two of us, until recently, when she’s decided Rlo can join us.

No matter which book I choose, Little AK wants the male character to be called Rlo-pants. He blushes and I oblige. The three of us crawl into her tiny PINK! bed to hear the story. As I turned over the last page, Little AK immediately dismissed Rlo from her bedroom, so that I could tuck her in properly.

As I was picking up her stuffed animals and placing them on her bed, she looked up at me and said, “Goodnight, Sarah, I love you more than Rlo.”

“Well, sweetie, I love you more than chocolate, and you know how I love chocolate.”

“But, Sarah, I love you more than Google.”

Realizing I couldn’t follow that up, I gave her a quick kiss, turned off the light and ran downstairs to gloat.

I did something very naughty on Saturday night. No, that that. Perverts. Though I wish! Let’s just say my bed has seen busier times.

Saturday night was BFF night at the AK’s house. Which means Mrs. AK and I boss Rlo around in the kitchen while drinking wine. It’s very fun. For us, at least.

The recipe Rlo was cooking with was in his email, so his computer was sitting on the counter. UNATTENDED! I’d be crazy not to take advantage, so I did. I logged onto his Facebook account and left our mutual friend Sabby a message. Not just any message but a naughty one. The best kind! Which I thought was very funny until he reminded me his mom was on Facebook.

It was then something very unusual happened. My belly had a weird feeling and my heart felt funny. At first I thought I was having a heart attack, but after I wiggled my left arm and it felt normal I knew that couldn’t be it. I then realized what the unexplainable feeling was. I was feeling remorse. Me. Remorse. Over my own actions!

It didn’t end there.

Rlo didn’t talk to me for an entire day afterwards. So that icky belly feeling lasted two whole days. The longest two days of my entire life. I almost vowed to never again do something like that again to Rlo. This morning when we finally spoke and he told me he wasn’t still mad, I was really, really thankful for that “almost” part.

Gloria Gaynor has nothing on me–I did survive! Although, bruised and humiliated, but that’s a given anytime I leave the house.

For a less “Fuuuuu-ck” filled video clip go here. And to see the very bruised and swollen damage go here.

After years and years of excuses I’m finally going to learn to snowboard this weekend. As an ex-instructor Mrs. AK has happily agreed to teach me. Being married to AK has given her enough patience that I feel comfortable with her having the patience it will take to teach a klutz like me. Plus she promised we could drink wine afterwards.

I’m still planning on being very allergic to snow, and the cold. Which is why Mrs. AK carefully chose the warmest weekend possible to go. She knows me well.

Why this year? Truthfully I’ve run out of valid excuses.

1994-2000 Too scared of heights to be bothered.
2001 Too cheap to spend the money.
2002 Busy finding excuses to avoid the Olympics
2003 Washing my hair. All Winter long!
2004 Sundance.
2005 Kidney stones for Christmas and a new relationship kept me too busy.
2006 The great ear infection of ’06 was enough of an excuse.
2007 Not working and couldn’t justify spending the money.

My goal is zero injuries. Wish me luck! I’ll most certainly need it.

Mrs. AK, and I force Arlo to have BFF nights with us once a week. These nights consist of Arlo attempting to whip a little something up in the kitchen. When Arlo bakes with us around there is always an incident. Remember the MSG cookies? While the baking is happening Mrs. AK and I drink red wine and heckle him. It’s a bonding experience we all enjoy.

Sometimes I worry that Arlo feels left out because he doesn’t drink wine. To alleviate this I always take a swig off his Diet Coke, leaving enough wine backwash to give anyone a good buzz.

Yesterday at the drugstore while loading up on Vitamin C I found a way he can share in on the red wine fun without partaking of my germ loaded saliva. Also proving I am a caring friend who wants him to reap the benefits antioxidants provide. In one simple purchase I’ve proven myself as an loving friend who cares about the longevity of a friend’s life.

When Arlo tried to kill himself to avoid making a traditional Canadian meal, Mrs. AK took matters into her own hands. Her British hands.

Last night she prepared bangers and mash for us. I was more than surprised when I actually liked it. Arlo, on the other hand, scoff at his serving. I have no idea why…

Winter: still here. Still sucks. Silver lining: great reason to buy cute coats and boots.

Burn: still hurts. Silver lining: Barbie Band-Aids!

Construction: Still loud. Silver lining: ______!

Math: Pissed about having to install Windows on my computer, but thankful for friends who offer great advice. Silver lining: own a cool new computer with plenty of space for installation.

In other news, it’s one day closer to the weekend! And the weekend brings two birthday parties. Neither of which are for me, but both are great guys who are smart enough to know to provide wine and chocolate cake, right?