Sleeping with Stupid

 

I’m home alone, and really dealing with it surprisingly well, all things considered.

 

I mean, I may have hit the craft store a little hard but in my defense THEY EMAIL ME COUPONS.  What am I supposed to do, not take advantage of a super-awesome limited-time sales event?

 

Pshh.

 

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Tucking and Unfucking

 

For everyone else in the northern hemisphere, summer is getting its last licks in.

(Addams Family Values) blond white girls lined up in matching orange suimsuits stand on a dock; Wednesday Addams stands out in her old-fashioned black swimming costume. Text reads, "Everyone's like summer's going too fast and I'm over here like when's Halloween"

For me, haunt season is looming.  Plans are being made, supplies purchased, and I’m soaking up as much of Husband’s time and attention as I can get while we’re still on the same schedule.

 

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Our Bedroom Problems

 

There are a few pieces of marital advice that must be universal, for all that they’re utter crap:

  • Never go to bed angry. Clearly, the person who first uttered this “advice” had never had angry sex or make-up sex—both of which are more likely, at a certain age, with a soft surface nearby.  Also, sometimes what two people need in order to see how ridiculous they’re being is a good night’s sleep!
  • Share everything, including hobbies. While I can’t imagine being happily married to someone with whom I had no common interests, if you’ve got no time apart what’s there to communicate about?  Seriously, how do you start an interesting conversation with someone who just lived all day in your hip pocket?
  • Total honesty is always the best policy. Ummm, no thank you?  I honestly don’t need to hear the details from dudes’ weekend—my man came home with his virtue intact (well… to the extent that he left with, anyway) and that’s all I need to know.  No—please, no specifics on who bought what, tried what, or whether they showered after.  I may want to eat again someday.
  • Never fight in the bedroom. Yeah, about that…

 

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Dear Missouri,

 

What did I ever do to you?  Yes, fine, I mock everything that crosses my path and a lesser state might assume* when I move in that it’s only a matter of time.  But so far I’m finding your people delightful, your greenery lush, yet varied and thus not oppressive, (I’m looking at you, pacific northwest) and your food worth crowing about.  Sure, the cheese is… questionable… but it’s easy enough to avoid and thus I’ve not said one unkind word even though I’ve been warned about terrible taxes, can’t get on a plane with my new driver’s license, and everything has taken longer than it should have because of your weird bureaucracies and local customs. 

 

Side note: this house has no toilet paper holders.  When I pointed it out to Scott (when he came by to do the paperwork on our first day) he said, “here in Missouri we like to hold our paper products, keep ‘em safe.”  Now, I know, and y’all know, that he was full of shit and making excuses for why this janky-ass haunted house doesn’t have a proper place to set your toilet paper roll (there are also no towel bars, in case you’re curious) but he said it with such sincerity, and with such an easy gesture—as though he were cuddling his toilet paper—that for a moment I did wonder.

 

But back to you, Missouri.  What is your deal?  How the fuck long is your summer?

 

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Bedroom Stuff

 

I woke up this morning—as I do most mornings, honestly—to a call from my friend Alexis.  Yes, I’m one of those people who talks to her long-distance bestie almost every day.  I know, you wish you were her but that’s not what we’re here to talk about so please try to contain your envy at this woman who not only gets her updates more than twice a week but has an uncanny knack for calling me when I’m naked.

speachless stick guy meme

 

I have a point and I’d like to get to it, if you don’t mind.

 

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