Blah
I feel so blah. Some days I don’t want to talk on the phone. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t want to pay any bills. I don’t want to clean. I don’t care if the sink is full of dishes. I don’t care if the bed isn’t made. I don’t care if I wait until I have NO clean underwear before doing laundry. I don’t care if I splurge on a weeknight eat-out. I don’t care if the trash isn’t taken out. I feel so blah
I look outside and it’s miserable, rainy, cold, wind blowing. It makes you want to curl up inside with a big warm blanket. I wake up and look outside and now it’s beautiful. The sun is shining and bright. People are outside going about their day. Things are happening, so many things are going on- but then I feel completely and utterly lazy and I just want to sit outside in the sun and DO NOTHING. I’m usually a morning person, but some days I don’t want to get out of bed. I want to stay curled up in the comfy protective position that I’ve created through the night.
Then I think of the good things. I remember what I’ve accomplished. I remember the hard work to get there, the midnight study sessions, the all night papers, the lack of regular sleeping habits, teacher criticism and inspiration. I think of my supportive family, immediate family, extended family, ancestral family. I think of memories with my friends. I think of strangers that I may have influenced. I think of strangers I may have ticked off. I think of our wedding, all the planning that was involved, the dress, the flowers, the people, the vows, and most of all the day. I wish I could do it all again.
I think of what I still want to achieve. I think of continuing to turn our house into a home. I think of becoming enough of an expert in gardening to manage flowers in my backyard. I think of Thanksgiving dinners, family cookouts…. I imagine a little girl with her dad’s eyes and mom’s complexion. I wonder if I’d ever be able to live abroad one day without getting homesick.
I feel, I want, I remember, I think, I wonder.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
LeBron
LeBron
So imagine this. It’s Thursday about 9:30pm. I’ve just finished tutoring and returning home. My husband is just getting home after getting his brakes changed. I took off from work earlier in the day to take my time to pack for a weekend getaway with friends and also to get the house in order before I travel. SO I’m thinking (sigh of relief), I’m ready to spend some time with my man and just enjoy each other’s company (movie, chat, etc) until we fall asleep. But, oh, his brain works so much more differently.
Me: So let’s watch Avatar tonight?
Him: Babe, it’s the playoff game tonight!
Me: Wasn’t the playoff game last night?
Him: It’s the playoffs
Me: [Blank stare]
Him: It’s ongoing, so it’s been on the last couple of weeks.
Me: Oh, good, then it’s not a big deal if you miss tonight!
Him: Uhm, it’s LeBron
Me: I’ll be gone all next week straight! Is LeBron more important than m?
Him: [Blank stare]
Me: I can’t believe you! You’ve seen LeBron play before, in fact you watch him play all the time. And every time it’s the BIG game
Him; Commences to explain to me the current situation which involves, the importance of Cleveland winning this particular game, LeBron being a free agent, and something else, I really couldn’t begin to rehash….
So is there any need to tell you, that I’m a bit frustrated at this point?? He wins this time because I’m too tired to keep it going, and I give in and recluse into surfing the net as he sits next to me watching the game. And what I got to see was astounding, so I just needed to share the hilarity in it. He yells at the TV, cursing several times. If I wasn’t in the room, I might think that someone had damaged his car or overcharged him on his cell phone bill. Then there are the actual words that come out, directed at the TV. As if the TV is responsible for LeBron’s mistakes- “what the f---? Are you f--- stupid? How the hell….?” It’s amazing to me that a sporting activity could inspire reactions that range from uncontrollable, fiery anger to complete, mind-numbing glee! And to add to this fiasco, he’s texting back and forth with friends about a pass, a miss, anything deemed important. Sometimes, he even picks up calls and talks trash that if it ever directed at me, would probably make me cry. About an hour later, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I was taken by a sudden, uncontrollable seizure, I wouldn’t be noticed.
So later that night, the game is over, we’re getting ready for bed. He’s in a down mood because his team (and no- he has not stock, no ownership, no collegiate loyalty, and receives none of the proceeds from the game but it’s still his team) didn’t win. As we climb into bed, and I turn away from him own purpose, hoping he’ll notice my disappointment at being ignored, he says, “It was great spending time with you tonight, babe.” I am dumbfounded!
So imagine this. It’s Thursday about 9:30pm. I’ve just finished tutoring and returning home. My husband is just getting home after getting his brakes changed. I took off from work earlier in the day to take my time to pack for a weekend getaway with friends and also to get the house in order before I travel. SO I’m thinking (sigh of relief), I’m ready to spend some time with my man and just enjoy each other’s company (movie, chat, etc) until we fall asleep. But, oh, his brain works so much more differently.
Me: So let’s watch Avatar tonight?
Him: Babe, it’s the playoff game tonight!
Me: Wasn’t the playoff game last night?
Him: It’s the playoffs
Me: [Blank stare]
Him: It’s ongoing, so it’s been on the last couple of weeks.
Me: Oh, good, then it’s not a big deal if you miss tonight!
Him: Uhm, it’s LeBron
Me: I’ll be gone all next week straight! Is LeBron more important than m?
Him: [Blank stare]
Me: I can’t believe you! You’ve seen LeBron play before, in fact you watch him play all the time. And every time it’s the BIG game
Him; Commences to explain to me the current situation which involves, the importance of Cleveland winning this particular game, LeBron being a free agent, and something else, I really couldn’t begin to rehash….
So is there any need to tell you, that I’m a bit frustrated at this point?? He wins this time because I’m too tired to keep it going, and I give in and recluse into surfing the net as he sits next to me watching the game. And what I got to see was astounding, so I just needed to share the hilarity in it. He yells at the TV, cursing several times. If I wasn’t in the room, I might think that someone had damaged his car or overcharged him on his cell phone bill. Then there are the actual words that come out, directed at the TV. As if the TV is responsible for LeBron’s mistakes- “what the f---? Are you f--- stupid? How the hell….?” It’s amazing to me that a sporting activity could inspire reactions that range from uncontrollable, fiery anger to complete, mind-numbing glee! And to add to this fiasco, he’s texting back and forth with friends about a pass, a miss, anything deemed important. Sometimes, he even picks up calls and talks trash that if it ever directed at me, would probably make me cry. About an hour later, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I was taken by a sudden, uncontrollable seizure, I wouldn’t be noticed.
So later that night, the game is over, we’re getting ready for bed. He’s in a down mood because his team (and no- he has not stock, no ownership, no collegiate loyalty, and receives none of the proceeds from the game but it’s still his team) didn’t win. As we climb into bed, and I turn away from him own purpose, hoping he’ll notice my disappointment at being ignored, he says, “It was great spending time with you tonight, babe.” I am dumbfounded!
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
What is sexy?
So I'm on my way to albuquerque, NM for work. I'm sitting on a plane, lodged in between 2 large men reading the latest issue of Glamour thinking y has only an hour of my 4 hour flight passed so far? I just finished reading a quick article about what guys find sexy, which of course inspired this particular blog.
Of course there's the obvious "well if she drives a stick shift" and I'm thinking my first car was a manual but I think when guys saw that, although they remarked they were impressed I think they were more so intimidated. Then there's the common "well when she just ties up her hair after a long day and throws on a tee shirt..." and I start to think what my man would say if he was asked. Would it be that I tend to wear grandma underwear to bed, confidently, and regularly? (im pretty lazy when it comes to my bedroom wardrobe) or maybe the fact that its really hard for me to let things go? I can argue him under the table! (What am I thinking- that would definitely be the least sexy to him. Or would it be the fact that I can be a complete nerd and clutz in some situations? This is actually hard. Describing me as sexy is similar to likening a child's juicy juice drink to a Cosmo.
What if I were to pick it? Anytime I take off my glasses? While I'm cooking some extremely complicated recipe and I fix him a plate? No, no, no.... When I actually wear makeup which is very rare (lol, there's that laziness again!) When I try to plan an actual romantic event, with food, music, kisses, contacts? Oh wait, maybe when I leave him alone when the game is on.
I don't know. I'll ask.
Blah
Of course there's the obvious "well if she drives a stick shift" and I'm thinking my first car was a manual but I think when guys saw that, although they remarked they were impressed I think they were more so intimidated. Then there's the common "well when she just ties up her hair after a long day and throws on a tee shirt..." and I start to think what my man would say if he was asked. Would it be that I tend to wear grandma underwear to bed, confidently, and regularly? (im pretty lazy when it comes to my bedroom wardrobe) or maybe the fact that its really hard for me to let things go? I can argue him under the table! (What am I thinking- that would definitely be the least sexy to him. Or would it be the fact that I can be a complete nerd and clutz in some situations? This is actually hard. Describing me as sexy is similar to likening a child's juicy juice drink to a Cosmo.
What if I were to pick it? Anytime I take off my glasses? While I'm cooking some extremely complicated recipe and I fix him a plate? No, no, no.... When I actually wear makeup which is very rare (lol, there's that laziness again!) When I try to plan an actual romantic event, with food, music, kisses, contacts? Oh wait, maybe when I leave him alone when the game is on.
I don't know. I'll ask.
Blah
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