Hopless Romantic I am Not.

We very recently went to Galveston on vacation. It was a traumatic event to say the least. I really can't even talk about it. Seriously!
However, we had a lovely evening for my dear husband's 40th birthday. We ate at very nice restaurant and drank $40 worth of alcohol. Afterward, DH wanted to take a walk on the beach.

DH: Let's take a romantic walk on the beach under the moon.

Me: No

DH: When will we have this opportunity again and look at the moon. Let's go.

Me: No. I don't want to get dirty.

DH: ??

Me: I have already had two showers today. Let's go back to the room and go to bed.

DH: ?

Me: Look, I don't want to go for a walk in the sand because I'll get covered in sand, and I don't want to get dirty.

There is nothing suggestive in that "Let's go to bed." I really wanted to go to sleep. Probably a decision I will live to regret. Not sure how many husbands want to take that romantic stroll on the sand, hand in hand with their wife. And I said no.

Fightin' Dirty

This is a bit of a long story but it reminded me of the fighting rules of marriage.

1. Avoid "You"
2. Do not bring up old arguments
3. Nothing "always" happens
4. No name calling
5. Don't bring your baggage into the argument

We are currently experiencing a financial "retrofit." A ton of money goes into a savings account for the down payment on a home, more money goes to a bank loan we used to consolidate credit card debt and the rest goes to bills. We are fine, but the belt has been tightened. Due to our compliance with the new rules we often end up digging for change just before the next payday.

So . . .Saturday, DH was was emptying all of my bags and purses looking for change. He needed a coke and didn't have any money. We have a big jar of pennies but you know coke machines. Lucky for him, he came up with enough for one soda.
I found out he emptied every bag I own before I left for work Saturday night. I emptied my wallet of change plus my secret dollar bill so he could buy another soda Sunday. As I began to turn my bag upside down he said "There isn't anything left in there except pennies, I already took everything out."

This is fine with me. Instead of women's stuff, I normally have a purse full of change and money. I have a wallet and keep some money there of course, but if I throw some in my bag, which ever one I am carrying at the time, I always get a surprise when I / we need it most.

Well, having given all my change to Husband, I wasn't able to buy a soda for myself at work Saturday. It was a weird feeling having no money. THREE CENTS is all I had.

**We are trying to kick soda out or else we would save the money and buy a 12 pack. We buy cokes only when we just can't make it another minute.

Sunday night I pulled out an "emergency" backpack. It is a bag I use for light school days because who wants to carry a ginormous bag if you only need a notebook and pencil?

Jackpot.

The bag had a wide variety of silver in the bottom including a Susan B Anthony. Luck.

DH: How much is there?

Me: $6.30

DH: You better split that evenly.

Me: It's mine. It was in my bag.

DH: Split it.

Me: I am selfish.

DH: Yeah I know. I remember that year we first moved here, you drove my car and I drove your P.O.S and you blew your entire year's salary on food, clothes and junk.

Me: ??

A very small disagreement arose because I don't remember this. Yes, I drove his car for a year and he drove my P.O.S. I don't recall not paying any bills.

Me: Well, (rubbing his belly) you benefited from the food.

DH: Yeah and I supported your ass while you wasted $32,000.

I was shot right through the heart. I AM selfish; a nasty trait that was passed from my mother. I was so awful that I spent an entire year's salary on myself and didn't contribute one iota. I sat on the bed and just felt . . . this immense sadness. It hurt me.

I REALLY don't remember not contributing anything. I DO remember getting an End of Fiscal Year statement from my employer stating how much they paid me. I DO remember looking at it with him and being stunned. I made $32,000 and had nothing to show for it except $500 in credit card debt. I had no savings, no nothing. I keep thinking he is confusing this moment with reality. I just don't know.

Some how though, I didn't turn this into an argument. I took the bitter pill and just let it be. He is not without a serious transgression himself. A very recent, financial transgression that boils my blood. This was not thrown in is face or EVEN mentioned.

The lesson in all of this is a combination of several of the rules. We're calling it Rule #6.
6. Don't bring up the past, especially if your partner has changed her / his ways.

Kudos to me too for not taking the argument to another level.

So Far, The Reason Why Marriage Sucks

Well, DH and I were sitting on the sofa the other day enjoying our time. I had just shaved, so I propped my legs into his lap.

DH: Your legs are so smooth. Why can't you shave every day?

Me: Why don't you shave every day? Besides, look at the area I have to cover and it takes so much time.

DH: Well . . . you're right. Do you want me to shave every day? Does this bother you?

Me: No, I like it when you don't shave.

It's not like I don't shave ever. I shave on average twice a week. Day one and two are fine; I'm not embarassed to wear shorts. Day three is a jeans day. I can already hear some of you, "eww, gross." But listen, I have a full time job, a part time job, I take 2 classes at the college and volunteer. The way I look at it, he can either have dinner or shaved legs. Since I benefit from dinner, dinner wins.

Now the rat bastard has changed the game. He is willing to shave his face every day to get me to keep my legs shaved.

Maybe I ought to make him shave his legs. Then every time I shave mine, he has to shave his and we'll see how long this "keep your legs shaved" thing lasts.

Rat Bastard!

It came and went

Last night was my 10 year high school reunion, out of state. I spent it here, at work. Oh I was snippy and grouchy because I had to be here instead of there having a blast.
This morning as I left work my cell phone alerted me there was a message. My mother called.
Bitch Mom: It's me. I just went to your reunion at "Granny's Attic" and a lot, a lot of people asked about you.

One: Granny's attic isn't her hang out, so she went on purpose.
Two: If I couldn't go, why do I want to hear about it.

I didn't go because I COULD NOT, not because I didn't want to. Her phone call pushed me over the "woe is me" line. I drove home from work with the windows down and the music blaring, trying to drown out my . . . frustration? Then I took a pill and went to bed.

Not So Clued In

Generation X is not mine, nor for that matter am I generation Y. I am going with E-Mail Junkyard and calling myself a Kool Kid (http://www.chainletters.net/?item=208).

I remember we had a Tandy when I was very young and the floppies were, well, floppy. Eventually we got a newer computer in my tweens. It was black screen with yellow text and the commands were on slips of paper above the function keys. I can’t forget our dot matrix printer. I was kind of a cool kid in school because my English assignments were typed.

Remember when you had the option to hand write or type?

I bought my first computer 2 years ago, a pretty MacBook. There are a few iPods (4) in my collection also. Admittedly, I let my husband fool with the big iPods; I only know how to load the shuffles.

Two years ago, at the behest of a long lost friend I created a Myspace page (it’s pretty cool), and now I have my own blog. I rock!

The other day I was showing the Myspace page to my husband and he began to look at my friends. There are four. One of them is a boy named Tom. When I began to explain to my husband that I had no idea who this person was he started to laugh. Big laughing. I went on to add that I did not give this boy permission to be my friend. Why was DH laughing at me?

Do you know?

Yeah, I do now.

So Totally Not Over It

Okay, so more reunion reminiscing.
All through high school, I was sort of a wall flower. I had my friends, but I wasn't the girl you noticed or pined for from afar. Not me.

And then . . . Senior year this football player asked me to prom. No one had ever asked me out, ever. (I know we saw part of this story already, I need to share another angle). I sat next to his sister in band and I guess that is where he noticed me and began pinning (whether you pined or not, this is my story jerk rat bastard). One day he approached with his virile, jock, manliness and asked me to prom. What? You know my name? Yes I'll go to prom because I know who you are and you're kinda cute.

We were suppose to be dating but he never called, and we never went anywhere. I think I went to visit him one day while he worked, maybe. Nothing. Maybe a week after he asked me to prom and one week BEFORE prom he said he didn't want to go with me anymore. I was heartbroken. Maybe he heard I rumor that I put out (I did from time to time) and was upset that we hadn't even gone to first base, seriously! I'm not sayin' I wouldn't have kissed this boy, but how can you if you are never together?

So, I paid for my own prom ticket and went with a group of girls just like me . . . dateless. Of course football player was there with another girl that looked eerily similar to myself and they danced and had a good time. I think she was a sure bet to put out on prom night while I wasn't.

Although this was painful, it was probably a good thing because I went to a fraternity party after prom and had a hell of a good time with people that really liked me and were upset that I didn't ask them to prom. I didn't think college boys wanted to go to a high school prom. Sometimes you underestimate how much people REALLY like you and REALLY like being your friend.

Now, lets back up. We know why football player rejected dumped me. Supposed best friend that can now be seen as the jealous best friend, was planting lies in football players ears.

I ask you rat bastard, why you believed her?

Moving on. A few months out of high school football player and I ran into each other crusin' the strip. We flirted and road around in the back of a friends truck. The butterflies were there, however, again there was no physical contact. Eventually, the novelty wore off and the whole thing fizzled. In the end football player accused me of being a pretentious bitch, not his words. From his point of view I thought I was too good for him because he worked at McDonald's.

NOT TRUE. I am not like that. He had a job, he had some ambition, McDonald's wasn't his life's calling and I knew that. We all have to eat shit sometimes and when you're young, as we were, you tend to eat more than most. Again, I say, if you have no contact, there is no relationship. He called maybe once and we never saw each other. Through my fraternity friends, boys were there. They came to visit if they wanted to see you, made the first move if they wanted something, I never had to work for anything. Football player wanted me to work. Uh-huh.

I am married to the best man ever and we are so blissfully happy. Sometimes it makes me want to throw up we are so happy. But, I bare a wound of rejection (and betrayal). Normally, it doesn't bother me, truly. However, seeing his name and his RSVP makes the wound sensitive again.

I think I'll go call my husband.

Don't get your hopes up

Sunday I had to be at work at 7:00pm. This means I get up at 5:00p, shower, compose, and leave. There is rarely time for dinner at home unless DH (dear husband) has helped with pizza, spaghetti, or lasagna.
I had just stepped out of the shower and was trying to tweeze a whisker (28 and a whisker, really?) when DH opened the bathroom door. Of course I was a little mortified and turned quickly and "guiltily."

DH: What's for dinner?

Me:

DH: There is nothing here

Me: I know (really I did, not even bread for a PB&J).

DH: Do you want me to go get something?

Me: Would you. (oh the excitement, he is so wonderful).

DH: You have to be at work at 7:00pm? I'm going now.

I ironed my scrubs, dried my hair and even started my make-up. Where in the world was he? Oh, crap, my phone is on silent. What if he has been in an accident?

45 minutes after he left he came home with groceries.

DH: I got pizza (looking at the clock) do you have time?

Me: No

DH: Do you need money?

Me: Yes.

I felt like crying. What is wrong with me? I may have had to eat out tonight, but there is pizza for tomorrow or bread and lunchmeat for sandwiches. He even bought straws. This man did so much more than most and yet I was disappointed.