Men, Women and Sex

I like to preface any post that exposes my true feelings with a warning to not read further if you don’t want to get to know the real me. This is one of those times.

There is a common misconception that has often been reinforced for laughs on television and in movies, but the truth is simple and must be acknowledged – Nobody (women included) gets married with the intention to be celibate. I mean really, let’s be honest, the only thing separating my husband from my best friend besides a band full of diamonds is the intimate nature of our relationship. If it were not for the sex I could have married Chyna and had a fabulous combined wardrobe. I could have married Mallow because she is almost as tall as Husband and can reach all the things that I can’t and our house would be exceedingly stylish. Foxy is good for jokes and I would marry JJ Santana just to steal her ITunes download list. The point is that while you should love your spouse as a person and friend, it is the sex that makes that relationship special.

I was engaged for 9 months. It did not seem like a quickie, but someone at my old job asked why I was in such a rush. I told her, "That is the only way we Christian girls can get any. So the sooner the better." She laughed, but I was only half joking. That really was the only way I was going to be able to "sit at the big kid table".

So why are there dry spells?

I used to love a movie called Shag with Brigitte Fonda and one of the guys refers to marriage a “legalized prostitution”. He infers that men are just paying their wives with gifts and such for the pleasure of their company, so to speak. I also have heard the same idea from Gov. Spitzer’s former call girl and others. The idea is that women withhold because men don’t pay or that they give it up in exchange for getting things done. This is not exactly true. It is just hard for some people (including men) to feel sexy with someone that you have asked to do something for 4 days with no progress.

For others that is not a problem. For some sex is like that itch on the bottom of your foot. You will drive with your left foot if you have to because that is an itch that you just cannot ignore. For some sex is just an itch that they need to scratch and what is the point of having a backscratcher at your house if you can’t use it.

Prior to getting married Husband and I had to go through pre-marital counseling at the church I grew up in. Anyone who has ever had the experience can tell you there is nothing quite as disturbing as having pastors you have known for your entire life tell you about sex and their sex life. In my class they talked about sometimes having to “participate” even when you don’t want to. My favorite was the analogy that women are like slow cookers and men are like microwaves. In his class they talked about listening and working through the emotional minefield that is a woman’s psyche.

Not once did they tell him that he might need to take one for the team or that I might want to work on listening to his needs. They did not mention anything about what to after it has been 2 weeks since the arguement and neither of you has apologized. They don't tell you that sometimes you are going to want the "sex" without the "make-up". Not that I would have wanted to hear that from them anyway, but at least it would have been a more real scenario for me than waiting for him to get home before letting my kids eat so that I can demonstrate his being the head of the household and allow for us to be together at the table. That is some nonsense and I refuse to be stuck in the house with a 2 hungry babies just so he can seem important. Either you are important or your not, dinner is not the deciding factor.

The thing is that men and women want the same things. They want to feel heard and listened to by their partners and they want sex. It improves mood and job performance. It reduces stress and releases endorphins. It burns calories and makes your kids seem less whiny. It improves your complexion (at least that is what my high school boyfriend told me). Why do you think newlyweds "glow"?

So, do yourself and your partner and favor and just give it up!

My friends never listen.

This especially true when they ask for my advice. I, however, remain an eternal optimist. I keep hoping that one day they will actually listen, agree, and follow through with just one of my suggestions. That or I am going to start just saying the opposite of what I think to get what I want.

I don’t think that my degree or counseling experience qualifies me to be a relationship expert, but experience has taught me more than I need to know about bad relationships. My stellar list of ex-boyfriends include high school dropouts, alcoholics, drug users, gang members, one pseudo-stalker (he once called me while standing in my neighbor’s yard to tell me he missed me), hypocrite church members, one attempted murder, mindless pretty boys, a pre-med student who couldn’t pass biology, liars, cheaters, and more than one pompous rich jerk. I will not say that I have done it all, but I know dysfunction when I see it.

So why then do my friends consistently ignore my warnings about their love lives? I would think a good general rule of thumb would be that if it sounds even remotely like something I did or would do BC (Before Christ) then they should run as fast as they can in the other direction, but they never do. Which is a shame because I love my friends and totally think they deserve better than to relive my foolishness firsthand? Although I turned out awesome, so I guess it can’t hurt.

Here is a list of some of the things I have said to my friends that they have totally ignored. (and some of their responses.)

You should really consider breaking up now before you end wasting your good years on this guy only to wake up old and bitter feeling like it is too late because you are married with children.

·         She is now married to this person and told me the other day, “I don’t like him.”

Upon finding out that my friend was now intimate with her boyfriend, but had never been to his house and that there love had only been expressed in his car I said, “Really, what is he hiding. That sounds like something is up. Is he married? Does he live with his mother? Is he embarrassed by you?”

·         Oh my God. What happened to “Whatever makes you happy?”

You are now dating your booty call. Please tell me that you see where this train went off the track. You are giving too much room for him to interpret what you mean.

·         I see that this is going to end badly, but I am going to do it anyway.

You can’t make him into something that he is not. Even if you get him through school you can’t go to work for him. Either a person has ambition or they don’t. You need to either accept him or stop messing around and find someone who wants what you want.

By the way I found my IPod. It is charging as I type this. Game on!

Where did sexy go

I guess I will have to call Justin Timberlake myself because my sexy is missing and I really need someone to bring it back.  I used to be hot, but after 6 years of marriage, 2 pregnancies, 3 surgeries and a desk job I am not. I have gone from Hottie to Nottie Val Kilmer style. He went from The Lizard King to Burger King in like 3 movies.  

I first recognized that my sexy might be in danger about 3 years ago. I remember going bathing suit shopping after LoLo was born. I had already lost most of the baby weight and could fit into my pre-baby clothes, but I will admit I had not really thought about showing my abs since the end of the first trimester. There I was in a bikini. I cracked the door to whisper for Mallow to come and help me, but really just wanted to ask a question. “What am I supposed to do with the extra skin? I am I supposed to just tuck it in?” Buying a tankini should have been my first red flag, but I did not recognize it at the time. I was in denial then, but not anymore.

I wake up every day and reenact the same struggle to get dressed. I have gotten rid of all the maternity clothes and am supposed to be getting myself back into my regular clothes. I currently only have one pair of jeans that fit and a handful of shirts that don’t spark inquiries about whether I am adding to the family. My hair is at that weird length that requires me to do something. It doesn’t matter if that means cutting it off, adding layers, braiding it or setting it on fire. Something just needs to be done.

This is not to say that I don’t look good when I leave the house. I have just never had to try so hard to look good in my life. If someone were to follow me home these days they would be sorely disappointed after peeping in my window and seeing what goes on behind the curtain. (I totally understand how that Wizard felt).

I had big plans for life after baby number two. It is not going as well as I hoped. I am just not into it this time. I have good intentions, but I am just not making it happen. My current excuse is that I can’t go to the gym because I have lost my IPod. The real reason is that I hate that I am hot, sweaty and out of breath and all the other women in the gym look like they are trying out for Shape magazine. I am the Chris Farley to their Patrick Swayze. That was never my concern when I was just going to the gym for fun as opposed to out of necessity.

I know that some would say that you can be sexy at any weight and I agree. You are as sexy as you feel. That is the problem. I don’t feel sexy at this weight or in my current shape (round). Men used to go out of their way to stop and talk to me. These days I can’t even get Husband’s attention. So, I have given myself an ultimatum. I need to drop the weight by my birthday or I will have to give in my sexy card for good. I don’t think that I am being unreasonable. That gives me 5 months to get it together.

At that point there will be no more belly hang. There will be no more tight sleeves and no more elastic waistbands. I am not asking for too much. I don't want a date or to hook any hottie other than the one that lives in my house, but I would like to know that I still pass for eye candy.

After two kids I don’t want to flaunt it, but I would like to think that I still got it.

A Good Friend

This Sunday’s sermon was about needing a few good friends. It was a great sermon and really hit home with me. It was all about our need to feel connected and have people stand with us during our time of need. In the scripture she read two of Paul's friends voluntarily gave up their freedom to travel and help him while he was a prisoner. How many of our friends would go to jail with us. Foxy once told me that if we robbed a bank together and she gets caught I might as well stop running because she is telling it all - down to my mother's maiden name. She was only half joking. The truth is most friendships are conditional. What we all really want is that "Ride or Die" friend.

I was reminded again this morning about how important friends really are because there are some SIMPLE everyday things that we need friends to remind us about. Here is a list of examples.

1.       It is never a good idea to get a face tattoo. Lil’ Wayne, The Game, Gucci Mane, Kat Von D, Mike Tyson, Souja Boy and OchoCino all could have used a good friend on the day that they came up with the bright idea to ink their faces. I mean what kind of friend would let a grown man get an ice cream cone or a butterfly on his face.

2.       Don’t rush onto the elevator. Friends need to be there to remind us to relax and slow down sometimes. Running into people who are unsuspectingly getting off the elevator does not get you there any faster and really just ends up making you look like a jerk.

3.       The way your clothes fit matters. Your friends will let you know when an outfit does not look good on you. They know that it might hurt your feelings and will usually try to tell you the nicest way they know how, but a real friend will at least warn you before leaving the house that your underwear are showing, your stomach is hanging over or that your shirt/skirt is see through in the light.

4.       Always check your teeth before the meeting. Most people at work are not your friends and they will not tell you that you have lipstick or spinach on your front teeth. A friend will tell you because they consider you to be a reflection on them and know that when you look bad they look bad. Friends are not just embarrassed for you. They are embarrassed with you.

5.       You are not fooling anyone. A friend will tell you to stay home when sick or hung over or to come clean about taking a mental health day or whatever. Friends will remind you that everyone either already knows or will know as soon as you post those pictures on Facebook. A good friend would have told you to never “friend” your boss in the first place.

6.       Stop wasting your life. It takes a hardcore friend to tell you when you are totally wasting your potential. I have a friend who called and asked me why I was wasting my time, talent and education on a job that did not even appreciate me. I was annoyed at the time, but it really helped me get myself together and start gathering some perspective.

Real true friends are hard to come by. They are the one’s who call us on our crap. They tell us when those jeans make us look fat; tell us when our attitude needs adjusting, tell us when we need more Jesus and sometimes call Him for us. Friends will let us know when our priorities are out of whack. They make you cry and then tell a joke. When you find one you will know because nobody will piss you off more for loving them.

The Right Fit

  I totally believe in soul mates, but I also believe that almost any two people who want to make it work can. In that respect relationships are like shoes. There are some shoes that are solely for sitting. You carry them in your hand until you get to the car and don’t put them on until you get to the event. You make one lap and then sit and get up only to strategically work the room and go to the bathroom. Just like that hot guy that makes for great arm candy, but not tops on your list for conversation. You brought him because he matched your outfit or the decor of the shindig, but you secretly cannot wait to get home and remove him.
There are some shoes that feel great, but are as ugly as homemade sin. You never wear these shoes in front of other people if you can help it. They are just too comfy for you to get rid of. Like that poor guy that you have doomed to the "Friend Zone". You call him when you need your grass cut or a shoulder to cry on. You may even invite him to do things with your mother, but you have no intention of making it official and you shudder at any form of PDA because you don't want a possible suitor "to get the wrong idea".

Let me tell you a story to illustrate my point. My friends and I used to work as paralegals. It is a profession that requires a lot of walking and comfortable shoes are a must. One day after we returned from court the lights went out. It was a citywide blackout. As we made our way to the bridge and prepared for the long walk back home I saw a woman walking in some red wedges. The front of the shoe was too tight and the angle of the wedges were only making it worse Her toes were bright red and clearly swollen. It looked so painful. There were people on the street selling slippers and if I had had any cash I would have bought her a pair. Now I know when she woke up and got dressed she knew those were not all day/ walking shoes, but now that she had them on she seemed to feel like she had to make them work. I would have just bought some slippers from the street vendor, but I was never one to stick it out in a relationship. As a matter of fact, I am the only person I know who told her mother to either get a divorce or get over it. (My parents are still together, just in case you were curious.)

Then there are those perfect shoes. They are cute and comfy. You can wear them to work and transition them into an evening out. They never hurt. They have enough of a heel to elongate the leg, but not so much that they makes you look intimidating. They are the shoes that top off any outfit. They are "the perfect combination of sexy and cute" (Only funny if you saw Crazy Stupid Love).  You wear them when you feel good and you wear them when you need a pick me up because they always get compliments. Those are the shoes you keep forever and you mourn them when they finally wear out. That is a soul mate.

As far as I’m concerned, the reason most people never get the happily ever after with their perfect other half is because they are wasting their energy working on relationships with people that don’t fit. We settle for “trying to make it work” because we are to scarred to hold out for something epic. I get it. I was there. I could have married College Jason or the guy from down the street or one of the guys from the church conventions. I understand compromise and I am really good at maintaining relationships, but I knew I wanted more. I wanted a relationship like “those” shoes. Who wants a relationship that squeezes until it causes blisters or that you makes you so sore that you have to soak every night? You can wear your party shoes everyday, but don't be surprised when your feet hurt. 

 I know so many people who gave up on the idea of meeting their soul mate and opted for the "love the one you're with" approach only to find that special spark now that they married with 2 or more kids. They wait it out hoping it will get better, but really just end up living with someone whose voice makes you want to run out in traffic. What do you do then? Do you leave and run off with that guy from payroll?  Maybe you will luck out and find the Tom to your Rita, but most just end up looking like Tori Spelling or LeAnn Rimes and who wants that?

Longest Weekend Ever

I have new suspicions that my mother has rehashed her plot to kill me. She and my father returned from my cousin’s beautiful Dallas wedding with some form of the Bubonic Plague and as the responsible child I went to care for them. I cleaned the house, pumped them full of Gatorade, called their doctor (who I am sure by now, knows me by name) and washed dishes (my personal kryptonite). Just as it seemed that they were on the mend, I caught it and quickly gave it to Husband. I noticed he was sick way before I realized that it had gotten me too. I brought him Gatorade and Tylenol and quickly retreated to my own personal turmoil. I woke up the next morning convinced that I was well enough to go to work. I pulled it together enough to get my kids to Grandparent Daycare and down the highway, but by the time I arrived at my desk it was clear that this was not my best thought out plan.

I was “encouraged” to leave. Now I know what that little monkey from Outbreak felt like. I must have looked like Gwyneth in the Contagion previews, because people looked afraid to share the same air space. I am always down for a day off without my LoLo Monster and Suga Buga so I left work thinking I would get some rest before my big weekend. I was going to be baking all day Saturday so that I could take pictures of my desserts for my website. I would take the time to get well and rest beforehand. That way I could wake up early and drop the kids to my sister, who had already agreed to watch them for me so I could cook uninhibited by responsibility.

Saturday would be for baking, but now Friday would be for me. I went home, grabbed another Gatorade, took a Hydrocodone, turned on HGTV and laid in bed. Normally, I love watching HGTV, but this Friday I noticed something that perturbed me. It may have been because I was sick and cranky, but I was totally annoyed by how unrealistic they are about my options for redecorating. They say that these are projects that I can do at home for $1,000 or less, but they are lying. I don’t have a band saw, a random carpenter friend who will work for free, a sewing machine or a fancy air-powered nail gun. Who are they kidding? If I had that kind of skill and resources I would not need HGTV. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I know that I am not going to build a lamp, water feature or retaining wall in my spare time and for me to get someone else to do it is going to cost me more than I have to spend. If you really want to impress/relate to me HGTV, I want to take someone with little to no skill and a limited budget and make something happen without a carpenter and his fancy tool magic. I want you to take someone like me to a store and work within my budget. We can even go rent tools from Home Depot if you want, but just only the client gets to build it.

What can you do with my very real limitations? It reminds me of a show that used to come on Food Network called “How to Boil Water”. It taught people how to cook at the most basic level. I miss that show. Now everyone on that network acts like I just happen to have pancetta and star anise, cubeb just lying around in my house. Really, people? I think Giada is great, but sometimes I just want to know how to make a regular meatloaf. That is why people like Rachel Ray, but even she has gotten a little carried away with the ingredients. I was now disgusted and decided to go to sleep.

I woke up achy, but better and called my mother. This is where her nefarious plot gets crafty. My sister is often busy because she has 4 active kids. She is usually at some game or practice and therefore unavailable to make as many visits to my parent’s house as I do, but somehow she found her way into Toxic City on Friday. On Saturday morning, when I was calling her about my kids she was calling God on the porcelain phone about her stomach. This means that I was going to have to go grocery shopping and make a complete dessert menu while parenting my two attention seekers.

What was I going to do? I did what anyone in my position would have done. I called my Mommy! She started this and she was going to finish it. She complained, but came over and watched my kids while I baked and baked and baked.  I baked from 1 PM Saturday until 10 AM Sunday. My desserts were photographed by the nicest man ever, a friend of Seattle, from 11 AM – 3 or 4 PM and then I was left with a house full of sugar and 2 restless babies who mercifully slept until 10 minutes after the photographer left. I got no rest until after 9 PM when they went to bed and even then Suga kept losing her “paci” and crying until I got up and returned it to her mouth. (She cries with her eyes closed and mouth open. It is a total diva move.) 9 AM felt like 5 AM used to feel after a really good party.  It was the longest, hungriest (I did not eat because I was recovering, but maybe my jeans will fit now), most draining weekend.

I warned Typhoid Mary (my mother) that I was on to her scheme and that I wasn’t going down alone. I reminded her that I my kids will have to come live with her if she keeps this up. I think she got the message. She put some desserts in a to-go bag, promised to disinfect her house, kissed my check and left.

I don't think we will be having this problem again!

Deal Breakers

I love Husband and there is very little that he can do to change the fact that I think he is a hottie. You may notice that I said “very little”. That is because there are just some things that even he can’t make work. For every woman the “Don’t” may be different, but unless you are like Jigga who will just use ugly clothes as an excuse for stripping an unsuspecting cutie.

Mine are simple and time tested. They never change and I doubt they ever will. A man can go from a total 10 on the hotness scale to a 0 fast enough to cause whiplash should he don one of the following items: a bow tie or skinny jeans. That is right. I HATE bowties. They are so obnoxious and nerdy and snooty and literally make me cringe. It is as if I can hear him emasculating as he walks by in it. (It sounds like air seeping out of a tire.) Unless he is doing a rendition of “D**k in a box” I don’t want my man rocking a bow of any kind. I would also like to extend my issues with the bowtie to include short ties. No self-respecting grown man has any reason to wear a traditional necktie that does not reach his natural waist.

The second, yet equally offensive wardrobe issue is skinny jeans. I remember the days of lying on the bed and trying to squeeze into my jeans. You suck, button, pull and zip. There is nothing sexy about this maneuver and when you add the danger of a “There’s Something About Mary” bathroom scene to the zip part (Is it the frank or the beans?) and it becomes even less hot. The only thing worse than a guy in jeans that choke his ankle is a guy in sagging skinny jeans. How can your jeans be both too small and to large? It looks like you took a crap while wearing your little sister’s pants.

I have asked some friends and here are some of their “Don’ts”

Lotus – Jean cut off shorts

JJ Santana – She says nothing, but I am sure that she would vomit in her mouth if a guy in hipster jeans and a white belt rolled up on her while riding his fixie–even if his last name was Skarsgard.

Seattle – I did not ask, but if her husband is any indication. I am sure sear sucker would be a no go.

Mallow - She doesn’t do dirty of any kind. EVER!

Jigga – is currently unaware, but I am sure she wasn’t turned on by that guy in the ad we laughed at wearing a jean jacket under a sweater under another jacket.

I can’t leave out the fellas. Ladies, if you think he doesn’t have a “Don’t” you are sadly mistaken. Husband and I were watching this movie and the guy went on a tirade about how women lure you in looking sexy and the next thing you know she is walking around “in a d*** pullover shirt”. He said that was his clue to exit. I have known guys you don’t like sweatpants. There are some that are against the resurgence of the denim vest and leggings. Leggings are my father’s pet peeve. He says they do not make up for you leaving the house without pants. (Shout out to you, Daddy.)

Everyone has a Don’t and even if you don’t know what it is right now you will know it when you see it.

High Maintenance

One of my favorite movie quotes of all time is from Beaches when Bette Midler says, “Enough about me; let’s talk about you. What do you think of me?” Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever...let me tell you what I think. You can weigh in later.

Mallow called me the other day to say that she took a look around and “realized” that she is the “fat” friend. This revelation led to her new blog. Check it out at http://losingatoddlertofindsexy.blogspot.com/. While that is a total distortion of the truth I decided to go with it because it meant that she was inadvertently calling me thin and that hasn’t happened in a long time. The truth is Mallow is not fat. She is, however, surrounded by little people. In her barefeet she is at minimum 5'9", which I can only dream of even in my best heels. She is also blessed with the breast I prayed for as a little girl, but did not get because God did not want me working under blue lights at Majic City. I will admit that she looks like she has a big head, but that is really more a reflection of her love of oversized Oprah hair than her actual cranium size. She is perfectly normal and in proportion for someone her height. Her problem is that she is constantly surrounded by pixies.

Her delusion was not just funny, but inspiring. As I listened I thought, "Maybe I should try that." I also decided to try this self-reflection business and discovered something I have never before realized. I am the high-maintenance friend.

I am also pretty good at covering up my high-maintenance behaviors. I call often which makes me seem caring, but I am usually calling to talk about my day.  Don’t get me wrong. I care about my friend s and usually ask about how they are doing, but I have been wondering if I would call as often if not for my insatiable need to talk about me.

Husband jokes that I am the first girl he dated with absolutely no interest in him. “Yeah, I know you scored 30 points in the 4^th quarter, got a 1600 on your SATs, and just got accepted to Princeton, but I saw this shirt in the mall and it looked so cute on MMMEEE!” He really good at reading my face and says that I often look like I want to tell him “Enough about you, let’s talk about mmmeee”. Yes, he really does drag out the word like that while dramatically touching his chest like he is saying the Pledge of Allegiance.

 I realized that he is right. I always find a way to relate the conversation back to me and have recently made an effort to stop. My conversations have gotten SO much shorter and my emails are down to one or two lines. It seems as though I hear what happens in other people’s lives through a “me” filter. You got a promotion that is great, but let’s talk about how that makes me feel – this is especially important if this promotion is going to interfere with the time we usually spend together talking about me and doing things that I enjoy. You are fighting with your boyfriend/husband; let me tell you about what Husband and I usually do. I even relate movies to myself. It doesn’t matter if it is X-Men or Titanic, I will find a way to interject myself.

I told a friend once that everything I do is the result of my being selfish. I have children because I hope that they will take care of me when I get old. Lord knows I can't count on a pension or Social Security. I at least need someone to come to the nursing home to check for bruises. I go to church and worship not just because I believe, but because if there is a Hell I definately don't want to go there. I go to work because they pay me and I work hard because I want a raise. I went to college to get out of my parents' house rent free for 4 years. I am not sure I have ever done a truly selfless act in my life. Even being married. I love him, but I am married because I want to have him around and live with him without my parents disapproval or the fear of going to Hell (I really would rather stay away from that place). If you really look at it you will notice that it always comes back to me getting something.

I am now wondering if that means that I am not as good a person/friend as I thought I was. I was deep in thought thinking about whether I was short changing my friends and if they have ever noticed when all of a sudden out of the blue I thought “Oh God, I am so shallow/self-centered. What would I do if I were my friend? What would I say to me? Would I hang out with me?...at the mall? I saw some cute shoes at the mall the other day. I would look good in those shoes…” Oops! Did I make this about me again?

What can I say, Rome wasn’t built in a day and self-awareness can only take you so far.

**Thanks to everyone that missed me during my 2 day hiatus. I am back on track. I hope you enjoy.

Spell Check

Spell check is making me stupid. I never was a great speller, but my dependence on the spell check function has lowered my skills to levels not seen since the 2^nd grade.  It is now impeding my ability to fill out forms or to write notes to people. I am constantly second guessing myself. I found myself singing “I before E except after C” when trying to spell inconvenience. I just spelled it wrong again only to have the auto-correct fix it immediately after I hit the space bar.

I wondered if I was the only one, but Husband assured me that he had the same thing happen to him when he went to write on the board in front of his students. He was going to write the word “piece”, but in the moment he could not remember “I before E”, but knew that it had something to do with C. Then he decided, “Screw it. I’ll just write portion.” I am convinced that that is how it is for so many of us.

I had to turn off the auto-insert on my text messages because it was constantly trying to tell me what it thought I should be saying. Sometimes I really do mean to write “eva”. The last thing I need is another spelling crutch.

It was not always like this. I remember being in the 3^rd grade and the whole school got on the Hooked on Phonics program. Laugh if you must, but “Hooked on Phonics worked for me!” I did the program at school for a year and a half and while I would never have won a spelling bee, I could at least write a decent elementary school essay. Please keep in mind that at this point in history typewriters were still a valid option. The idea of a computer fixing all your mistakes was left for Star Trek and that Mathew Broderick movie War Games.

Spell Check has crippled me the same way my 3^rd grade math teacher did. I realized that before handing in the homework the teacher would go over all the problems on the board so that we could check our work. At that moment a light went off in my little slacker brain and a voice from deep inside me said something I will never forget. “Why in the world would I do homework at home if you are going to give me the answers before I hand it in?” I never did math homework again in life. It is no wonder that I suck at math despite getting A's. Now spell check has given that voice new life. “Don’t worry if that word looks funny. Spell Check will catch it!”

The funniest part of my spelling debacle is that it is never the hard words. It is never a word like tuberculosis or supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, but a word like attached or dyeing. It is like I am in second grade all over again. Sitting at my desk with my fancy new erasable pen getting ready to take my spelling test and she says those fateful words, “Please spell NEIGHBORHOOD.” All I can do is sing “I before E except after C” and then wait for the big red X because clearly they did not take word into consideration before teaching that stupid rhyme to children.  

…

Yep. That pause you just felt was me hitting the spell check button before posting. For the record I had spelled supercalifragilistic wrong. Not to worry though; spell check got it!

Rule Breaker

As I sat in traffic today a man passed me weaving in and out of traffic. Then, when I came into the office a woman almost mowed someone down trying to get out of the elevator. As I watched and thought back to the numerous times I have seen people speed past me on the highway I could not help but think to myself, “Man I wish I had a job like that.” I have NEVER had a job that I loved so much that I was willing to risk dying in a high speed car crash just so that I could be there before 9 AM.

I am going to try to keep all future work talk to a minimum. No, Seattle, this has nothing to do with our lunch the other day. I broke my own rule and discussed my job on the internet. I know that is not a good idea because if anyone ever finds it I will probably be in big trouble. I just don’t want to end up like that woman who called her boss a “whanker” and got fired or those people who put pictures of themselves at a party after being out “sick”. I would like to think that I am smarter than that.

I don’t take it back or apologize for it because it is 100% true. I just know that it is a risk to put it out there. My big mistake was telling my office mate Casper that I have a blog. This was long before I made my tantrum known to the world. I know that she will repeat everything if she ever goes back and reads it. Thankfully, I don’t think this is her cup of tea. I may be a little to bitter.

I hope so or I am going to have some serious explaining to do. I only have a ½ day today so I only wrote ½ a post.

3 Steps to Break-Up

All of my friends are guilty of the same three step thought process before a break-up. I would probably be guilty of many of the same offenses myself if I had ever been a good girlfriend to anyone other than Husband. I was more like the pitcher in a baseball game- having the ball (a boyfriend) never meant that I stopped scanning the field. I am not talking about people like me. I am talking about my friends that genuinely try (repeatedly) to find and maintain a healthy romantic relationship.

If you are wondering how I escaped the 3 Step on my first real try at being a girlfriend, I will have to be honest and tell you what I tell all my friends. “God pities babies and fools.” You can decide which one I am. Seriously, I was never one for wasting time. I know my limits and usually bail out at the first sign of annoyance. I may have tried a lot of shoes, but I never tried to force the glass slipper to fit. I mean, really, there is nothing sexy about having a hammer toe and corns in a see through shoe. That is the mistake so many of my friends make. Maybe this story is true for your friends too.

Beginning: My friends have dated some really terrible guys and some really great guys, but there is one thing that they all have in common. Like all humans, every guy has a flaw. It can be big or small. Some examples include, but are not limited to

singing off key, being clingy, being a terrible liar who keeps lying despite always getting caught, having no ambition, being a mama’s boy, making lame jokes, being arrogant, having a hairy chest, being selfish, chewing funny, playing too much, being a bad dresser, cursing, having bad teeth and my personal favorite “he embarrasses me.”

You may be thinking that clearly some of these things are more serious than others. Truthfully, however, for each person they rank differently, but what is most important to realize is that you KNOW there is a problem. Most girls know within a short amount of time that there is a problem of some sort. We sit and tell our friends that there is a problem we have uncovered and then this happens…

Step 1: Once we hear what our friends have to say, regardless of if they tell us we are being petty or to pack our bags and run we always give the same response. We say one of two things “I can handle it” or “It is not that big of a deal” The thing about this phase is that everyone knows that you are lying except for you. Whether it takes 6 days, months or 6 years you will eventually say, “Aaahh, I can’t take this anymore! Why do you (fill in the blank)?” This does not make you a bad person, but let’s be real about this. The reason you noticed the flaw in the first place is because it is something that bothers you. It will probably always bother you and pretending like it won’t or acting like you will grow to love it is akin to Husband acting like he watches Jessica Alba movies for the acting. RIDICULOUS!!! (I know he watches Honey with the sound off.)

Step 2: It is at this point that my girlfriends usually have an epiphany. “I can change him.” It is also at this point that I generally stop talking because the train is officially off the tracks. Some of the plans are elaborate covert operations to convince him or trick him into changing and some are more obvious ultimatums, but the outcome is usually the same. He doesn’t change and she is at once heartbroken and furious. Did this staunch supporter of the NAACP know that the only this fool knew about Rosa Parks was from the OutKast song? Yes, but she could fix all that with the power of her love (not to mention a few books and a documentary even though he made it perfectly clear he was happy being ignorant.)

Step 3: Once she realizes that he has not made a marked improvement in her allotted time period she reaches the 3^rd and final stage. She is now “OVER IT!” This is the stage where the same friends who told you in Step 1 that this was not a good idea pretend to be surprised by the “revelation” that things are not working out. “What? Girl, I can’t believe he brought your mother out with you all again after you made her sit in the backseat last time. I thought for sure he would take the hint.” No we didn’t. We were hoping you would get the hint and start being honest about the flaws you can live with.

No many is perfect, you just have to find the flaws that amuse you and balance out your crap. I think it is hilarious that Husband is so cheap that he sits in the house with the lights off and calculates whether using the coupon I gave him is really worth splurging on name brand products. It balances out my label loving. I tell my male friends the same thing. “You are right. All women are crazy. You just have to find the crazy you can live with. You will know when you find it because you will think it is cute.”

 Until then, why settle?

Awkward

Some interactions are just awkward. Movies poke fun at those moments. Remember when Eugene Levy caught his son, played by Jason Biggs, enjoying some apple pie in the kitchen in American Pie. I could feel the tension when they were sitting next to each other trying to decide what to tell the mother. What about when Molly Ringwald’s Samantha got felt up by her grandparents in 16 Candles. What do say? Is there really an appropriate response? Not to mention the awkward interactions that had to follow after selling her underwear. There were a lot of boys in that bathroom looking and each of them probably made a point to say hello or watch her the next day.

My typical awkward interaction involves people trying to touch me. I keep a running mental tally of who does not wash her hands after going to the bathroom. I also keep note of men that I have seen do gross things. The awkward exchange takes place when said people try to shake hands or touch things that are of importance to me. There was the office friend who tried to place his hand on my stomach. It would not have been okay with me when I was pregnant, but to make matters worse I was not pregnant and had just been complaining about a remark someone made. There was the officer who insisted on hugging me as I came out of the elevator. I was trapped and had nowhere to go except directly into his embrace. There was the gag reflex I had to repress as my boss took a piece of cake with his hand despite having a persistent nagging cough then proceeded to tell everyone else to dig in.

I was thinking the other day about some of my uncomfortable moments. Like when I went out with Foxy and her friends after graduating college and the fiancé of one of the friends had not one, but a few too many drinks and started screaming at me.

“You don’t remember me do you?”

Of course I did. “You’re Lil’ Bit’s fiancé.”

“No from _______ High. I tried to talk to you, remember? You were such a (expletive).” He proceeds to describe the first week of school and how he tried to get my number and I was not nice and did not give it to him. I decided it was not a good time to explain that I was shy and scarred because I had never been to public school before and instead went with this:

“What? That was you? I had forgotten all about that… (half-hearted) sorry.”

What made this interaction all the more strange is that it was had at close distance in a car that included his fiancé at that high volume that only drunk people can achieve. She spent the rest of the night looking at me as though she was upset at me. He is the one who embarrassed her by bringing it up. If anything I would have thought she should feel better knowing that I had no interest in making a move on her man, but instead she acted like I had insulted her taste. Let’s just say it was a long ride home and I have never been so thankful for a working radio in my life.

The most awkward I remembered was when of College Jason’s sidegirls realized that she was not his one and only. (I refer to all ex-boyfriends as Jason. I will neither confirm nor deny if that is his real name.) College Jason was not one for monogamy and since I was under no delusion that college romance should inevitably lead to marriage I was fine with the way we allowed each other some space to explore some secondary options. Besides, high school Jason was a lying cheater, so being with someone who was just a cheater was kind of refreshing.

The story begins with me having to work overtime at my retail job. I was stuck folding intimate apparel with another girl who had come to school that semester as a freshman. College Jason and I had already been together a year and I had seen many a sidegirl come and go. Some were nice and some were not. Some would try to “steal” him from me and give me dirty looks. I just laughed it off because why would a girl want to “take” a guy who is clearly not a good and faithful boyfriend. What is the appeal in that? Are girls really that desperate? When you go to a college with a 6:1 ratio the answer is YES.

This girl was different. She was earnest and completely unaware of who I was and unlike most people on campus she had no clue about our relationship. Here she was telling me about this great guy she met and I just casually made mention of College Jason and she went completely white. She realized it was the same guy. She started to stammer and apologize. I just kept folding.

I told her not to worry about it because it wasn’t the first time this had happened. That surprisingly did not make her feel better. I did not even notice when she got up and left, but she must have called him and he confirmed that I was his girlfriend (for whatever that was worth) and she was now devastated. I spent the rest of our shift trying to comfort her. This was the girl who had slept with my boyfriend and now she is crying on my shoulder about how he misled her and how she should have never fallen for his charms. Was this really happening? Did she just try to hug me? Is this a parallel universe?

I ended up telling her that she deserved someone better. Someone who would appreciate her and all the things that you tell someone who is heartbroken over a boy she just met. Everything was fine until the next year when College Jason and I broke and she started dating him. At that point she started ducking and dodging me. She was acting like she was 007 in a Mission Impossible movie. It was even weirder that College Jason and I were still friends and I knew all about her breast implants and self-esteem issues. Then after 6 months College Jason and I got back together, but this time as real couple and she was out. The strangest thing happened- she wanted to be friends again. It would have been fine had she not acted so weird for the 6 months she was with him. How can you just show up at my door and say, “What’s up?”?

I can only describe that moment as being like when you walk into an occupied elevator and as you reach to push the button for your floor you take a deep breath as the doors close and realize the person in it has farted. Awkward!

I will never marry again

I love Husband whole heartedly and mean to stay with him until we get old and die, but should he beat me on that race to heaven I can assure you that I will spend my last days as a single woman. Just to insure this promise to myself I make it a point to talk to my single friends every now and then to get the scoop and live vicariously through them for a moment. The dating world is like Vegas to me. It is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.

Mallow and Foxy are my single besties and occasionally she goes out on the most awful dates known to man. There was the guy who upon stopping by his place after a date that she told me was terrible left her in a room with friends that were so lecherous she literally ran out of the door down the street and called me from the gas station to come pick her up. Mallow loves sports so I thought I guy who suggested going to a hoops game would at least be okay. Nope, she said that not only would he not shut-up at all during the game, but that most of his talk was self-promoting name dropping. “Yeah, I was hanging out with insert random celeb name. He said that I should take me Maserati to his dealer…because I realized while driving up the coast with insert B list All-star I realized that it wasn’t performing up to par.” That was okay the first time he did it, not for 4 quarters.

Then there are the men they meet in various stages of being married. Here is a free tip: If you and your friends have to get together to weight the evidence about how married he is he is TOO married to be dating- CASE CLOSED! Tell him to call you when he has some paperwork. Then there are the stories of online dating. I am not saying it is not possible to find love via social media. I know a couple who met on Lava Life and a girl who met what seems to be her dream guy through the Craig’s List personals, but the horror stories far outweigh the fairy tales. I remember the weirdoes I used to attract on Black Planet back in the day. (OMG! Does anyone even still use blackplanet.com?)

The truth is that I have known Husband since I was 14 and to try to get with someone else and attempt to fill them on all the things that have made me this crazy would be far too labor intensive and beyond the scope of my patience and interest. Not to mention all the things I would have to get used to about someone else. I have just gotten used to the fact that Husband will never put his glass in the sink. He will put it next to the sink or on the island, but never in the sink. (“What if I want to use it again?” He never uses it again, by the way.) I have just gotten accustomed to the fact that if the toaster or telephone is not working it is probably because he has unplugged it not of fear of sparking a fire, but in an effort to keep our electric bill down or his habit of checking everything I want to buy on the internet as though he can always find a better deal even on time sensitive items.

But who else would put up with his wife blogging all his business, constantly stealing his socks, faking sleep when our son yells out for help in the bathroom at 3 AM, or encouraged him to give up a lucrative recording contract because that was not the lifestyle that she wanted. Most guys would have wilted under the pressure of my cult like family alone. (We all live within walking distance and have keys.) Nope. Husband is it for me and I like it that way. I totally support people who want to give love a 2^nd chance, but once is enough for me. Elizabeth Taylor I am not. Larry King’s record is safe from me.

That being said when is it okay to tell a friend that you think they should get a divorce? (Next time...Later!)

I could never be President

I envy Sarah Palin and Michelle Bachmann in some ways. For example, they seem to have no idea when they have said or done something they should regret. I, unfortunately, know full well about the mistakes that I have made and their impact on any future political aspirations I may harbor. This is another one of those times where if you don’t actually want to know more about me as a person I suggest you come back tomorrow or read something from the archive.

I feel like politics is one of those professions that you need to know you want to go into from an early age in order to do really cultivate the right image. Very few people are charismatic enough to overcome the indiscretions of youth regardless of how many of your constituents have done the same thing. People want to believe that politicians are wise and good decision makers. They want to vote for the Designated Driver not the guy doing headstands at the fraternity keg party. That only works once (cough*George W*cough).

I used to want to be in politics. I love our justice system despite its flaws and have the same love for the concept and theories behind our government process. I used to dream of life on the hill. That is until I realized how much fun was to be had in life as a private citizen. Don’t worry this is a story of redemption and I promise that I turn out good in the end.

My downward spiral away from my squeaky clean image began the summer before my senior year in high school when I got my 1^st tattoo at the age of 16. Yes, it is illegal to tattoo a 16 year old and I will tell you the same thing that I told my mother when she asked who did it, “Telling is not going to get me in less trouble so why bother?” I then entered what I will refer to as my “Free Love” phase. I don’t know if I will ever say how “free” my love was, but I used to have a list and some had no last names and others were just a description. I once had a guy threaten that he had taped us. I don’t know if that was true or not, but I AM sure that once he saw the look of boredom and disgust on my face he deleted before anyone else saw how “skilled” he was. (Just to clarify, those are mocking quotes.)

The next milestone in my footloose and fancy free living was the fight I had my freshman year of college. It was a wonderful mix of comedy and drama and took place in a nightclub that resulted in me being put on what the school described as residence hall probation. It could have been way worse, but that was one of those times where being a student athlete and a minority actually worked in my favor. Supposedly, the police were called, but I never saw them and to be honest had no plans on looking for them either. Who needs to risk having a mug shot revelation during campaign season? Not me.

In my defense I did not drink until I was 21 and was never really that into it. I have never done drugs, which surprises people considering my inability to remember large portions of time. I am positive my amnesia is selective. I was always a part of student government and had already mapped out my next steps in life. I knew what grad school, what program and what job would get me a gov’t mansion and I knew that if I could stop clowning around I still had a shot.

Then I became friends with weed heads. Now don’t get me wrong, they had been in the background of my life (ex-boyfriends & classmates), but now they were my friends. I was riding in the car with them. I knew they would not be a good look, but I didn’t care. Then I started clubbing - nothing like seeing your future Senator in leopard print pants and a tube top.

Then I went to Cancun and traded a booty shot for a lei. I don’t think that video ever went to the people from the Gone Wild franchise because if they looked closely they would have seen Mother Nature’s little string and realized the joke was on them. So far you are probably thinking that I could totally run because there is no evidence, but you are wrong. This is where it gets worse. I like many a girl under the delusion of being serious with a guy politically torpedoed myself with the risqué photos. You know the kind that seem like a good idea when you are in a relationship and you are sure that he would never show them, but the minute you break-up you realize that the will forever be lurking in the background waiting for the right opportunity to pounce and ruin your life. That moment is always right before you run for office or win an Oscar.

I had to be honest and tell husband that they existed along with the other list of my offenses and he let me know that he loved me, but that I was one stripper pole away from being single. To which I responded by letting him know that a friend once offered to manage me should I want to do it for extra cash because I used be a magnet for mid-life crisis sufferers. You know, the guys looking to trade in the 40 (year old wife) for 2 20’s. He did not laugh, but he did propose.

Sometime after I graduated I realized that I was no longer enjoying the life I was living and gave my heart to God. I am now reasonably different than the person who did the aforementioned things and some I am still debating on ever telling anyone, but what makes for a good testimony in church only makes me look like a loose woman with poor judgment in an attack add. So, so long Washington. Or maybe I should keep talking and take the 8 Mile, Barack Obama approach and just tell on myself. NAH!