I decorated the kitchen and dining room with these adorable flag banners cut out of different patterned scrapbooking paper. I wrote some of my favorite things about him on another sheet of scrapbooking paper to turn into his place mat. Then I turned on Sports Center, got a Bud Light ready for when he walked through the door, threw on some lingerie and started grillin’ up some surf-n-turf.

I was so nervous for him to get home, I don’t know why, but my hands were literally shaking when I heard the door open. He was so surprised and happy, it was the cutest thing. All I wanted to do was make him happy, but seeing how much he genuinely appreciated everything just melted my heart. And it reminded me how lucky I am.

When people ask me what it’s like having been in a long-term relationship throughout my entire college career, my answers usually vary. Sometimes I’m defending my choice to those who think I’m insane for not – ahem – taking advantage of all the hot, young guys surrounding a college gal. Sometimes I’m playing down David’s sheer awesomeness to jealous friends. Most of the time I talk about how amazing it is to have someone who constantly offers me love and support (who’s not, ya know, my Mom and Dad). But too often I forget about the flip side of the equation.

I forget how incredible it feels to be young and in love with such an amazing man. And isn’t that the best part about having a boyfriend? Getting giddy butterflies and having flashes of realization that he’s all yours? Monday night reminded me of the many many reasons I fell in love with David, and how freaking lucky I am to have spent three marvelous birthdays with that handsome devil.

If I have my way (and his, from what he tells me), we’ll be spending the rest of his birthdays together. I can only hope that I remember every single year how incredibly fortunate I am to be his girlfriend. For all my ladies out there who aren’t gagging with cynicism by now (kudos for reading through this mush fest!), take a minute to share some of your favorite things about your s.o.- you might be surprised how much more you love them just thinking about how great they are.

[I like to think of myself as a pretty easy going gal, and try not to sweat the small stuff. But sometimes (ok, maybe slightly more often) the general cluelessness, carelessness and overall stupididty of some things and or/people really gets to me. I find that venting is the most efficient way to rid myself of the stress that idiots, wrong meal orders, lack of cell phone ettiquette and cheese flavored products (that don’t even contain any freaking cheese!) induce. So, in an attempt to avoid an ulcer or an unfortuante road rage incident, I vent to you, dear reader. Please feel free to join in and comment about anything–really, anything–that pissed. you. off. this week. Let it all hang out. I feel you.]

Saying “Hi” to Facebook friends. A slight differentiation from last week’s “awkward run-in.” It’s inevitable that you’re gonna see some of your Facebook buds out and about (I mean, why would you have accepted some weirdo’s friend request without some slight or vague form of acquaintance?) But therein lies the problem—the acquaintance can vary anywhere from “girl who was in your freshman stats class that you never talked to but still felt the need to add you” to “friend of a friend’s friend’s boyfriend who bought you a bottle of cabernet and therefore led to the obligatory friend acceptance.” What is the proper form of greeting for such a relationship? Will a high five suffice? A “bro” nod? A hug, hell, what about an air kiss?! I doubt Emily Post gave any specific etiquette on this 21^st century relationship, and I’m stuck awkwardly saying “Hey girl!” on the way out of the bathroom, severely questioning whether or not I actually know the person I just acknowledged….

Getting Hit in the Face with Stuff. First of all, get your mind out of the gutter—not that kind of “stuff.” Second of all, it happens to me more than you’d think. Thanks to a childhood cheerleading career, I suffered an unfortunate ratio of getting hit in the face with the football to, um, not getting hit in the face with a football. You can therefore imagine my aversion to things flying at my face (insert joke from Clueless here). What’s even worse is when said flying objects are totally unwarranted and unexpected. Like last night when I was engaged in a rousing game of flip cup and was pelted in the face with an empty Solo. The only condolence I got was a snickering apology and an insistence that “I was trying to hit the guy next to you.” At least he got kicked off of our team.

And Speaking of Drinking Games… I think that we’ve all accepted Beer Pong as an official sport (still waiting for ESPN to feature it on Sports Center, though…), but come on people, throwing a bacteria-infested ping pong ball into a cup of lukewarm Natty is not a situation of life or death. So yes, I do think that your hyphenated, asterisk-ed and f**king really long list of “House Rules” is a little over the top. I reserve the right to use my cleavage as a weapon of mass distraction and to blow the sh*t out of any ball that thinks it’s getting in my rack (yes, I know this is like an x-rated Pissed List by now) and refuse to forfeit penalty cups because you are the Stalin of drinking games. The worst part of it is, you and BOTH know you were blatantly cheating while we played quarters half an hour ago!

Blockbuster’s Late Fees. Do you guys understand how freaking excited I was when they started that whole “No late fees!” campaign?!! I’m late for everything, especially movies I watched two weeks ago. So imagine my elation when I found out that my $5 rental would no longer cost me $17 when I finally dragged my lazy butt to the little “return movies” slot. So I enjoyed this privilege for quite a while, and felt a really strange sense of victory when my account’s debt was erased when I handed the girl behind the counter my 3 week old DVD. And then I changed Blockbusters. I still get a little tear jerked when I reminisce about the time I brought in a two week past-due copy of Knocked Up only to understand the true meaning of “Participating Locations Only.” Well screw you, Blockbuster; I’m switching to Netflix. It’s cheaper anyways.

Now that you’ve added “return DVD” to your to do list, what can you add to this week’s Pissed List?