The Obligatory Semi-Biannual Blog Post About How Amazing My Husband Is 2012 Edition
If you subscribe to me on Facebook or follow me on Google+, you’ll notice that I don’t talk about my husband much.
Scratch that. I do talk about my husband all the time. (I mean, I see this guy every damn day!) I recount his jokes, his twisted logic and his crazy work schedule.
But, I don’t talk about him the way you see other people talking about their significant others on social media. I’m not a “I love my husband. He’s the best. We’re so in love” type person. I figure that if I’m still around, obviously he’s the best. And, why wouldn’t I love him? I think that if you’re married, you should probably love that person. That’s like writing “I breathe in oxygen and convert it to carbon dioxide” as a Facebook status. Of course you do, sweetie. It’s how this goes. And yes, I hope that if you’re legally entangled with some guy that sleeps in your bed and has access to your bank account that you at least love him. At least a little bit.
Read MoreNot “Just” Anything
Last night, a super cool Bitch I know had to put her cat down. It was really sad because he’d been sick for a few weeks on and off. He’d finally started to look better and she was hopeful it was just a food problem. Then he stopped breathing one night and the emergency vet said his respiratory system just shut down. As I write this, she’s gathering some his favorite things and going to bury him near the lake where she lives. It was her first pet and he’s seen her through a battle with ovarian cancer, lupus and a frequently deployed husband. She devastated, of course, even if some people think it’s too much for “just” a cat.
I sent texts back and forth with her last night and this morning but honestly I knew whatever I had to say was bullshit. Well, maybe not bullshit in the normal sense but bullshit in the fact that it wouldn’t make her feel better. Nothing but her cat coming back would do that and that’s not one of my super powers.
Read MoreI’m Batman, Bitch!
My husband and I have a “special” relationship. (Sometimes it’s special like the little bus, kids.) One of the things that has kept us together so long is that we model our relationship after Batman and Robin. There’s one problem with that: we both want to be Batman.Sometimes we have long winded arguments about which one of us is Batman, complete with Perry Mason style legal arguments, evidence and witness testimony. At one point, I leaned over my sleeping husband, kissed him and said “I love you. You’re the Robin to my Batman. Goodnight” He turn over in his sleep and said “I love you, too…and I’M Batman, bitch.”
Read MoreShit I Learned from My Dad
On Father’s Day, I usually lay low. I stay away from Facebook because it’s full of people either congratulating men on actually performing parenting duties or complaining about how somebody’s baby daddy sucks. (How come no one ever talks about how some women are shitty mothers? They exist. I see them all the time, but I’ve noticed we don’t call them out as much though.) All my favorite places to eat are full of people with their dads so I usually stay home because making me wait to eat is a bad idea all around. Me and Hubs don’t have kids so we don’t even acknowledge the day at all. But the real reason I don’t do much for the day is that my dad is the kinda guy who doesn’t really like a lot of attention and a day that’s all about him can be overwhelming to him. A call home and an I love you is really all he wants and all he can actually handle.
Read MoreBringer of Butterflies
You know, if a 30 year old has been dating since she was fifteen with an average at least two relationships a year, that’s 30 boyfriends. And you also have to take into account that not everyone you date will be your boyfriend. So counting casual dating, you could easily have been on dates with 60 to 70 guys by the time you’re 30 without even trying. Throw in half-dates, booty calls and one night stands and it’s very possible that you don’t want to think about your actual number of male encounters.
Read More8 Things Men Should Know About Women
Stop fucking lying about not seeing we called or not seeing we texted you. You sit there fondling your phone the entire time we’re together so we’re supposed to believe that you just somehow get it surgically removed from your hand when you leave our presence? Bullshit! Answer the fucking phone before I start calling somebody else.
We don’t care if you don’t like talking on the phone. Fake it like you did when you first met us. Because that’s where phone sex happens. Besides, we don’t like talking on the phone half the time either. We just want to talk to you. You should feel honored.
Conversations are not us talking for three hours straight while you listen just enough to parrot back the last two lines to us. They go more like we say something, then you say something, then we say something, then you say something, etc. And if you don’t want to be a part of the conversation, say something like “I don’t want to talk right now” instead of sitting there like some deaf mute idiot.
We don’t read minds so how the hell are we supposed to know you love us. So if you love us, tell us you do. If you don’t love us, please, please, please don’t say it. Tell us how much you like our asses or something. Because we know you do.
Most men have a handle on what their doing with a vagina about 40% of the time. The rest of it is like asking a five year old to operate a rocket launcher: You’re lost, you can’t find your way out and all you want is your mommy. So until you can navigate around my ladyparts without GPS and my verbal directions, I don’t give two shits about whether you’re about to lose it if I move one more time.
We know you like oral sex. We do, too. And mama always said to let guest eats first. So, um, after you.
We realize your shit stinks because we have working noses. But if you’re going to just let it out like you just don’t care, understand you’ve just put all bodily functions on the table. We don’t have to pretend like our shit doesn’t stink anymore either, right? Ok, now go buy us some tampons and shut up since we’re letting it all out now.
We don’t want to be your everything. But if you know what’s good for you, you’ll pretend like we are.
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