Bye bye, Babe.

Alright. I haven't posted anything new and keep getting harrassed by the female relatives in my family (yes, mother, aunt kim, and grandma...) so I will just give in.

So, I met this VERY handsome young man, Steven Miller, who seems to absolutely sweep me off my feet by the minute. He's quite a fabulous fellow. You'd like him very much. I give him crap about something and he gives it back to me tenfold and leaves me speechless. Any guy who can do that and still remain sweet and charming gets my vote.

Our very first date, however, was picturesque. I arrived early at his house on a Friday morning. I asked him if I could come over to help prepare for his homecoming party (he returned from his mission in Alaska on August 12th) and he accepted. The warm sunshine, the crisp breeze, the birds chirping were blissful--a complete contrast of what I was walking into. I, Tiffany Brooke Haskett of Suburbia, "prissy missy", helped Steven slaughter a pig for our very first date. How romantic, you say? I know. He's got skills. Mad farm boy skills. He leaves Nathan Steed lacking. Anyways. By the time I'd gotten there, he'd already shot the pig, stabbed it in the throat to allow it to bleed out, and gutted it. So I helped him scald the pig and pull out the bristle. Next, we skinned it, which was actually my favorite part. Then we washed it out thoroughly, stuffed it with cornish hens, potatoes, and carrots and sewed the sucker up. We then wrapped the pig in tin foil (she looks like "Space Pig"), wrapped her in string, rolled her in burlap sack, and then rolled her up in chicken wire. Then we drove the pig to the pit (where hot white coals had been heating for 33 hours), where it cooked for 24 hours. Steven and I were covered--no, drenched--in pig fat. Our skin and hair absorbed the oil and smell. I told Steven I was surprised he could resist me in that kind of state. He looked at me and smiled and said, "My kind of woman." We went to the creek behind his house and went wading for a while. I drove back to take care of the rest of my nannying responsibilities and to shower. I then met Steven at the church for ballroom dance classes. We go every friday. It's so much fun. Now, in my opinion, a man who can kill a pig in the morning and go ballroom dancing that same evening deserves to be checked out quite a few times. Which I did. His diversity quite takes my breath away. Here are some pictures for your enjoyment.