Do you ever wonder where we get some of our quirks?
You know..
I've got a few that really tend to annoy the wife.
Here's one for example:
I HATE doing laundry. I don't know why. I mean, it's easy. You put the sorted clothes into the machine, the machine does the work, and you toss said batch into the dryer, then fold and put away.
Easy, peasy.
But I honestly HATE to do it.
However, when I do this most heinous of chores, I tend to go overboard.
My wife just likes to have colors and whites sorted. That's it. Colors with colors, and whites with whites. Nothing more.
Me? Oh no..
Colors go with colors, unless they're jeans, which have their own pile, and towels which have another. Oh, not to mention delicates, and I tend to keep underwear in a pile all by itself.
So I don't just have TWO piles of laundry.. No, I usually have 5-6 piles compared to the two that the wife has.
Why do I do this? What caused me to hate this job, but be obsessively anal-retentive about it?
I don't know. I can't seem to explain it. It's just me.
There are others... Trust me.
I mean, how many folks do you know who come home from work and can disappear into the bathroom for at least an hour?
My wife knows one.
Heck, he's done more reading there than all through his school and college years!
Why?
Dunno. But heck, it's me!
I'm going to sit back, and take it easy for a bit, but I'm going to open up a kind of Q&A session.
Email me questions you want to know about.. I don't care if they're serious or not, and I'll come up with some kind of answer for you.
It may be serious, but don't positively count on it, ok?? I can't make a promise like that!
You can send all emails to jormengrund@hotmail.com, and I'll make sure to file them and answer them as I get time.
You have a great summertime, and I'll talk with you all later!
Monday, August 3, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Long time, no post!!
Yeah, I'm writing.. Be amazed.
I've decided to come clean about some things in my past. Judge me how you will, but I've got to air things that have been bothering me lately. Some of you will think that I'm just writing to get responses from people. Others will assume that I'm dramatizing things. Others, that I'm just making this shit up to get readers.
None of that could be further from the truth.
I'm writing today about something in my past that is going to haunt me the rest of my life.
Let's set the stage for my story:
Back before I got married for the first time, I was on top of the world. I had a steady income. I was fresh out of military service, and nothing could stop me. The world was my candy shop, and I had a fist full of cash to spend.
I met my first wife, and we got married VERY young. She'd just graduated High School, and I was barely into my mid-20s. Then, my oldest son was born less than a year later. I was hardly prepared for married life, let alone the pressure and stress of being a parent. I lost jobs, mainly because I was overqualified for the positions I filled. I made managers nervous about the potential for me to take over their jobs, and because of this, I would get let go from jobs for menial reasons.
My wife decided she didn't want to go to college. She decided that she'd rather go to a business school, and get job training to go straight into a paying job right out of her classes. I begged borrowed and outright lied to family in order to get the cash to send her to Medical Assistant classes. While she went to school, I moonlighted at whatever job I could find. Labor positions, fast food, construction temp worker.. You name it, I worked it for at least six months. Then, she graduated, and our ship that was supposed to come in sank like a rock. The employer that agreed to hire her dropped her after two weeks because the doctor's daughter decided she wanted to work that summer, and my ex was the last employee hired.
Enter in more stress. Bills didn't get paid. Money was running tight. We got tossed out of apartments for failure to make rent and utilities. Even my in-laws and my own parents wouldn't take us in. We had hit rock bottom.
Then, a small ray of light.
The church we'd been attending announced our problem to a small bible study group one week. We prayed, and one younger couple offered us the chance of a lifetime. They had just married, and they each owned a house. They were willing to allow my wife and son and I to move into her old house, rent free, in exchange for work on the building. We jumped at the chance, and agreed with no hesitation. It wasn't in the nicest part of town, but at least it was a roof over our heads, and some measure of stability back.
At this time, my oldest son started school, and problems began. Teachers kept complaining to us that he couldn't stay on task. He was having issues with talking back to teachers, and not respecting authority. (My son! Who'd have thought, right??) So, I was able to scratch enough money together to get my son seen by a mental health specialist after my mother told me that he could be showing signs of ADD or ADHD.
Yeah. The dreaded parent-eater diagnosis. ADD.
The shrink agreed that he was definitely ADD, and needed to be put on medication in order to remedy his actions. Needing to have him behave and conform to his school standards, we agreed. Ritalin didn't work. He didn't have any kind of reaction at all to the medication. After a week, the doctor decided to put him on a different med. So we started a time-release drug called Concerta. That's when all hell broke loose.
He'd have manic episodes. I recall one time seeing him clutching a stuffed bear, crouched under our kitchen table screaming at shadows. He'd get angry, and lash out at anything close. Anger was ALWAYS under the surface, even when he seemed calm and happy.
Then, the fateful day happened.
One night, I was home getting the kids into bed. As my oldest finished brushing his teeth, he suddenly started yelling about how I wasn't going to force him to do anything, and he wasn't going to bed. I was tired, it had been a long day, and I wasn't about to be talked to by my son like this, so I picked him up, and bodily put him into bed. He proceeded to yell, scream, punch, and curse at me about how bad a father I was, how we needed to die, and we was going to kill us all that night. I grabbed him by the arms, laid him back, and told him to be quiet and go to sleep. He yanked himself out of my grasp, and screamed "Fuck you!" at me.
I saw red.
Then I did something that I've regretted now for over 10 years.
I reached back, intending to slap his mouth for the language he'd used. It was what my parents and grandparents had done when I was a child, I figured it was OK for me to use it as well.
He moved.
My hand didn't change direction, and I ended up hitting him just below his left eye. It wasn't a hard slap, but from an adult to a young child, it was like a punch from a prize-winning fighter.
He stopped screaming, and huddled in the corner of his bed, staring at me. I couldn't say a word, so I just left his room, shaking and afraid of what I'd done.
The next morning my son had a black eye. My actions had not only caused me pain from doing them, but had left their mark as if to tell me that not only was I a bad parent, but I was also an abusive one.
My son went to school, came home, did his chores and homework, and then went to a friend's house to play before dinner. While there playing, the mother of his friend asked my son how he got his black eye. My son answered simply:
"My dad hit me."
Those four words caused my world to end. The mother, instead of calling and talking to me called the police. I was arrested, and booked in jail for domestic assault. While driving there, I had one of the arresting officers tell me how bad of a parent I was, being able to hit a child who can't defend themself.
Since that day, I've regretted the decision I made to hit my son. Especially in anger.
Now, I know there are more constructive ways to deal with the yelling and screaming, and I can basically tune out the harsh words and nasty criticisms.
What I can't change are actions that can leave marks.
To attest to my diligence to be a better father, I can safely say that I now have full custody of my kids, and they honestly love living with me. I'm a changed man. But there is still a part of me that fears the beast I have inside of me that tells me that physical punishment isn't a bad thing, and needs to be used more often.
Maybe someday I'll come to terms with my spectre, but for now, I just try to keep it locked away safely inside where it can only harm me, and nobody else.
Love your kids.
They're your legacy in this world, and speak volumes about your love, your life, and your values.
I've decided to come clean about some things in my past. Judge me how you will, but I've got to air things that have been bothering me lately. Some of you will think that I'm just writing to get responses from people. Others will assume that I'm dramatizing things. Others, that I'm just making this shit up to get readers.
None of that could be further from the truth.
I'm writing today about something in my past that is going to haunt me the rest of my life.
Let's set the stage for my story:
Back before I got married for the first time, I was on top of the world. I had a steady income. I was fresh out of military service, and nothing could stop me. The world was my candy shop, and I had a fist full of cash to spend.
I met my first wife, and we got married VERY young. She'd just graduated High School, and I was barely into my mid-20s. Then, my oldest son was born less than a year later. I was hardly prepared for married life, let alone the pressure and stress of being a parent. I lost jobs, mainly because I was overqualified for the positions I filled. I made managers nervous about the potential for me to take over their jobs, and because of this, I would get let go from jobs for menial reasons.
My wife decided she didn't want to go to college. She decided that she'd rather go to a business school, and get job training to go straight into a paying job right out of her classes. I begged borrowed and outright lied to family in order to get the cash to send her to Medical Assistant classes. While she went to school, I moonlighted at whatever job I could find. Labor positions, fast food, construction temp worker.. You name it, I worked it for at least six months. Then, she graduated, and our ship that was supposed to come in sank like a rock. The employer that agreed to hire her dropped her after two weeks because the doctor's daughter decided she wanted to work that summer, and my ex was the last employee hired.
Enter in more stress. Bills didn't get paid. Money was running tight. We got tossed out of apartments for failure to make rent and utilities. Even my in-laws and my own parents wouldn't take us in. We had hit rock bottom.
Then, a small ray of light.
The church we'd been attending announced our problem to a small bible study group one week. We prayed, and one younger couple offered us the chance of a lifetime. They had just married, and they each owned a house. They were willing to allow my wife and son and I to move into her old house, rent free, in exchange for work on the building. We jumped at the chance, and agreed with no hesitation. It wasn't in the nicest part of town, but at least it was a roof over our heads, and some measure of stability back.
At this time, my oldest son started school, and problems began. Teachers kept complaining to us that he couldn't stay on task. He was having issues with talking back to teachers, and not respecting authority. (My son! Who'd have thought, right??) So, I was able to scratch enough money together to get my son seen by a mental health specialist after my mother told me that he could be showing signs of ADD or ADHD.
Yeah. The dreaded parent-eater diagnosis. ADD.
The shrink agreed that he was definitely ADD, and needed to be put on medication in order to remedy his actions. Needing to have him behave and conform to his school standards, we agreed. Ritalin didn't work. He didn't have any kind of reaction at all to the medication. After a week, the doctor decided to put him on a different med. So we started a time-release drug called Concerta. That's when all hell broke loose.
He'd have manic episodes. I recall one time seeing him clutching a stuffed bear, crouched under our kitchen table screaming at shadows. He'd get angry, and lash out at anything close. Anger was ALWAYS under the surface, even when he seemed calm and happy.
Then, the fateful day happened.
One night, I was home getting the kids into bed. As my oldest finished brushing his teeth, he suddenly started yelling about how I wasn't going to force him to do anything, and he wasn't going to bed. I was tired, it had been a long day, and I wasn't about to be talked to by my son like this, so I picked him up, and bodily put him into bed. He proceeded to yell, scream, punch, and curse at me about how bad a father I was, how we needed to die, and we was going to kill us all that night. I grabbed him by the arms, laid him back, and told him to be quiet and go to sleep. He yanked himself out of my grasp, and screamed "Fuck you!" at me.
I saw red.
Then I did something that I've regretted now for over 10 years.
I reached back, intending to slap his mouth for the language he'd used. It was what my parents and grandparents had done when I was a child, I figured it was OK for me to use it as well.
He moved.
My hand didn't change direction, and I ended up hitting him just below his left eye. It wasn't a hard slap, but from an adult to a young child, it was like a punch from a prize-winning fighter.
He stopped screaming, and huddled in the corner of his bed, staring at me. I couldn't say a word, so I just left his room, shaking and afraid of what I'd done.
The next morning my son had a black eye. My actions had not only caused me pain from doing them, but had left their mark as if to tell me that not only was I a bad parent, but I was also an abusive one.
My son went to school, came home, did his chores and homework, and then went to a friend's house to play before dinner. While there playing, the mother of his friend asked my son how he got his black eye. My son answered simply:
"My dad hit me."
Those four words caused my world to end. The mother, instead of calling and talking to me called the police. I was arrested, and booked in jail for domestic assault. While driving there, I had one of the arresting officers tell me how bad of a parent I was, being able to hit a child who can't defend themself.
Since that day, I've regretted the decision I made to hit my son. Especially in anger.
Now, I know there are more constructive ways to deal with the yelling and screaming, and I can basically tune out the harsh words and nasty criticisms.
What I can't change are actions that can leave marks.
To attest to my diligence to be a better father, I can safely say that I now have full custody of my kids, and they honestly love living with me. I'm a changed man. But there is still a part of me that fears the beast I have inside of me that tells me that physical punishment isn't a bad thing, and needs to be used more often.
Maybe someday I'll come to terms with my spectre, but for now, I just try to keep it locked away safely inside where it can only harm me, and nobody else.
Love your kids.
They're your legacy in this world, and speak volumes about your love, your life, and your values.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
My deepest apologies...
It occurs to me that I've been remiss, to you. My friends, my online readers, I sincerely apologize.
One of the things that I swore I'd do when I started this blog was that I would post, NO MATTER WHAT, and keep folks entertained.
However, I made that resolution to myself before things in my work and family life went haywire.
As such, I've been away FAR too long, and I've really missed the reading and comments from those of you who have been my faithful supporters.
I can't promise that I'll post often. Right now things are WAY too much in flux for me to be able to make that kind of promise.
But what I do promise is that when I get the time, you can be sure that I'll tickle these keyboard keys, and at least let you all know that I'm still here, and that the mind is still running overtime, ok?
Now, on to the real reason I'm posting:
Coming up next week, the wife and I are headed for Vegas for a few days.
Yup. Vegas. The adult playground. City of slot machines, booze, women (and men!) and gangsters..
The only real problem I can see in this trip is going to be how much time she and I actually spend together.
"How so?" you might ask. Well, here's the answer:
We're not going there alone. We're taking another couple-friend of ours along. My wife's best friend and her fiancee are coming along as well.
Don't get me wrong. I like these two. I just haven't found a happy medium for spending time with them and also spending time with my wife.
I mean, when my wife's friend is around, she tends to spend her time talking with her, gossiping with her, and watching reality TV shows. While this is going on, a remarkable change also comes over my wife, and she tends to envelop the views of her friend as well. That is when I become a lazy slob. One of those guys that is only good for going to work to help provide a bit of the paycheck, and doesn't do jack around the rest of the house.
Yeah. It blows.
Then, there's the husband. I like this guy. He actually reminds me of myself in my younger years. He's family oriented, and very personable. He loves video games.. Heck, he likes them even more than I do!
However, he's also still young enough that he wants to go out and raise hell each and every night. Me? I'm the old dog, and can't do that so much anymore. Heck, I can hardly drink to excess anymore!
Therein lies the problem:
I'm pretty sure that the wife and I will be spending some time together. However, is that time going to be painted with her nagging at me about things I should be doing, or things that I could get done when we get home, or is it actually going to be fun?
The time we spend apart is going to be interesting as well. Is he going to want to drag me off to various strip clubs? Am I going to be getting the 3rd degree from the wife about what we've done? How manageable is the wife going to be after spending a full day with her girlfriend?
Yeah, I know. Don't count the eggs until they've hatched.
Yet I'm torn.
I want to look forward to this vacation. I want to be excited about it.
But I can't also help but feel that somewhere along the line something's going to go badly, and the fallout is going to be horrendous.
Keep an eye out for me if you're in Vegas, and lay a bet down on the table! After all, it's my third trip there, and that's gotta mean something, doesn't it??
Have a great Father's Day weekend this coming week. I'll be spending it at the Blackjack tables!
One of the things that I swore I'd do when I started this blog was that I would post, NO MATTER WHAT, and keep folks entertained.
However, I made that resolution to myself before things in my work and family life went haywire.
As such, I've been away FAR too long, and I've really missed the reading and comments from those of you who have been my faithful supporters.
I can't promise that I'll post often. Right now things are WAY too much in flux for me to be able to make that kind of promise.
But what I do promise is that when I get the time, you can be sure that I'll tickle these keyboard keys, and at least let you all know that I'm still here, and that the mind is still running overtime, ok?
Now, on to the real reason I'm posting:
Coming up next week, the wife and I are headed for Vegas for a few days.
Yup. Vegas. The adult playground. City of slot machines, booze, women (and men!) and gangsters..
The only real problem I can see in this trip is going to be how much time she and I actually spend together.
"How so?" you might ask. Well, here's the answer:
We're not going there alone. We're taking another couple-friend of ours along. My wife's best friend and her fiancee are coming along as well.
Don't get me wrong. I like these two. I just haven't found a happy medium for spending time with them and also spending time with my wife.
I mean, when my wife's friend is around, she tends to spend her time talking with her, gossiping with her, and watching reality TV shows. While this is going on, a remarkable change also comes over my wife, and she tends to envelop the views of her friend as well. That is when I become a lazy slob. One of those guys that is only good for going to work to help provide a bit of the paycheck, and doesn't do jack around the rest of the house.
Yeah. It blows.
Then, there's the husband. I like this guy. He actually reminds me of myself in my younger years. He's family oriented, and very personable. He loves video games.. Heck, he likes them even more than I do!
However, he's also still young enough that he wants to go out and raise hell each and every night. Me? I'm the old dog, and can't do that so much anymore. Heck, I can hardly drink to excess anymore!
Therein lies the problem:
I'm pretty sure that the wife and I will be spending some time together. However, is that time going to be painted with her nagging at me about things I should be doing, or things that I could get done when we get home, or is it actually going to be fun?
The time we spend apart is going to be interesting as well. Is he going to want to drag me off to various strip clubs? Am I going to be getting the 3rd degree from the wife about what we've done? How manageable is the wife going to be after spending a full day with her girlfriend?
Yeah, I know. Don't count the eggs until they've hatched.
Yet I'm torn.
I want to look forward to this vacation. I want to be excited about it.
But I can't also help but feel that somewhere along the line something's going to go badly, and the fallout is going to be horrendous.
Keep an eye out for me if you're in Vegas, and lay a bet down on the table! After all, it's my third trip there, and that's gotta mean something, doesn't it??
Have a great Father's Day weekend this coming week. I'll be spending it at the Blackjack tables!
Monday, May 11, 2009
A Personal Question...
Have you ever had one of those days where you'd really want to reach out and seriously SLAP the person you're dealing with in order to wake them up to reality?
Yeah. I've been dealing a LOT with anger issues lately..
Maybe it's male PMS kicking in, and I haven't noticed??
Or is it that my tolerance level for idiocy has just about reached it's max, and I'm brimming with angst and frustration?
I don't know.
All I do know is that there have been so many times lately that I've just wanted to reach out and bash someone's eyes out of their skull because of their idiotic views about things..
I mean, just because you CAN do something, does that mean that you NEED to do it?
No.
Plain and simply, NO.
Think about me this week, and hopefully I'll have the strength to battle on, and be (semi) sane to post again next week!
See you all later!
Yeah. I've been dealing a LOT with anger issues lately..
Maybe it's male PMS kicking in, and I haven't noticed??
Or is it that my tolerance level for idiocy has just about reached it's max, and I'm brimming with angst and frustration?
I don't know.
All I do know is that there have been so many times lately that I've just wanted to reach out and bash someone's eyes out of their skull because of their idiotic views about things..
I mean, just because you CAN do something, does that mean that you NEED to do it?
No.
Plain and simply, NO.
Think about me this week, and hopefully I'll have the strength to battle on, and be (semi) sane to post again next week!
See you all later!
Friday, May 8, 2009
Thoughts..
Have you ever wondered how guys and gals can have a relationship, and NOT want to chop the other's head off at some point?
I mean, when you think about it, everything about a male and a female is diametrically opposed to the other.
Guys communicate more by doing than talking. We show our support by providing. We do things, and let our actions dictate our feelings.
Women? They talk. They talk about anything, and they talk about EVERYTHING. They talk about their hair, their clothes, their kids, their dreams, their job, their sex life, their therapist, yadda, yadda, yadda..
Granted, this is a generalization, and there are exceptions to this, but they are damned few and far between.
Let's talk about clothes!
For men, dressing up means wearing the jeans that DON'T have holes in them, a clean t-shirt with no witty sayings on it, and sneakers. Button-down shirt? Nah. Slacks? No way, this is a PARTY we're going to, not work! Loafers or Patent leather shoes? Only if the patent leather shines enough that we could possibly sneak a peek up a dress or skirt!
For ladies? Yeah, get two or three outfits out, ask the man his opinion, then ignore his suggestion, and wear what you were planning on wearing anyway. Then spend the next TWO HOURS applying makeup, hairspray, mousse, foundation, eyeliner, lipstick, mascara, hair curlers, hair straightener, perfume, etc. on. By the time you're done, the guy's gotta go wash his face, because he fell asleep in the easy chair, and has drool on the side of his face!
Shoes? For ladies, it's an addiction. What pair would look good with which outfit? Does this match the color of my eyes or handbag? Do they help to show off my pedicure and polish on my toenails?
For guys.. As long as they're comfortable, and we can wear the heck out of them, one or two pairs will do, thank you.
Food:
Yeah, I'm going there!
Girls, you totally confuse us on this one.
Let's start at the beginning. When a guy and girl date for the first time, she'll eat like a bird, hardly touch anything, and talk his ear off the entire time. He'll order what he usually would, and enjoy it. She'll take her leftovers home, and let them rot in the fridge, because she didn't really want the dish she ordered, but she doesn't want to seem ungrateful for the date.
Next, after getting to know each other better, a change happens. She'll actually start eating. However, this doesn't keep her from talking the entire time. So not only do us guys get to eat our food, but we get to see how yours looks too. The guy keeps up with the same thing. Order what you would normally, and try to keep the food pieces that could possibly fly from her mouth from landing on your plate.
Then they become an "item" or even get married. Then you find out this lady does something you never even considered: She eats ALL THE TIME. not big sit-down meals, but she's constantly snacking. Crackers here, a rice cake there, breakfast, a snack bar, a small doughnut, lunch, a candy bar, some Wheat Thins, a diet bar, Dinner, some ice cream, maybe a small slice of pie, a bag of popkorn.
It boggles the mind.
Shopping.
When I shop, I plan on what I'm going to get, know where I'm going, get in, get the stuff, and get out. Job done.
Girls?
Browse. Look over the price of this or that, this would look nice. Let's see what's in this store. I know we don't need anything here, but it would be nice to plan on a time when we might, so let's go in here and see what they've got. Try this on. Try that. What do you think that would look like in "x" room? Ad Nauseum. Can you tell that I HATE shopping? No? I'll tell you then. I HATE SHOPPING.
Yet for all of this, we are somehow able to look past this, and find someone that seems to match us. Our compliment. The other half of our being. The one who can finish your sentance before you even know you're talking about it. The Yin for your Yang.
I don't know how it happens, and I don't know WHY it happens. Yet the thing I find the most humorous about it all is this one simple fact:
The person we come to join with is one who you'd NEVER expect to deal with. They do each and every thing that you don't do, and yet somehow, instead of this being some kind of annoyance, it is something that you wind up cherishing that person for.
The same exact behavior that your brother does that can send you completely over the edge is something that you boast about to your friends because your wife did it..
The stuff that seems to melt your eyeballs to hear about is the stuff that you love when your girlfriend does it...
Nothing's as cute or as adorable when that significant other is at work. They could do something you've sworn you'd never deal with, and it becomes passable..
What is it about these unchecked emotions we've got that makes us more tolerant?
If we were to ever be able to harness the power of an emotion, then I'm sure quite a few of the "world problems" we've got going today would be taken care of.
The wars that we fight would cease, since we could promote tolerance for religious and racial differences.
The political arena would be less of a mess, since we'd be more tolerant of deciet and broken trust issues.
Wages would increase, and the cost of living would decrease, because we'd be wanting to help support and provide for each and every person we came into contact with...
The only real problem I have is that we'd also be wanting to screw each and every face we saw..
For some, that's not considered a "bad" thing.
For me, I'm just too old now to really enjoy it!
Have a great week, and a happy Mother's Day (early) for my lady readers!
I mean, when you think about it, everything about a male and a female is diametrically opposed to the other.
Guys communicate more by doing than talking. We show our support by providing. We do things, and let our actions dictate our feelings.
Women? They talk. They talk about anything, and they talk about EVERYTHING. They talk about their hair, their clothes, their kids, their dreams, their job, their sex life, their therapist, yadda, yadda, yadda..
Granted, this is a generalization, and there are exceptions to this, but they are damned few and far between.
Let's talk about clothes!
For men, dressing up means wearing the jeans that DON'T have holes in them, a clean t-shirt with no witty sayings on it, and sneakers. Button-down shirt? Nah. Slacks? No way, this is a PARTY we're going to, not work! Loafers or Patent leather shoes? Only if the patent leather shines enough that we could possibly sneak a peek up a dress or skirt!
For ladies? Yeah, get two or three outfits out, ask the man his opinion, then ignore his suggestion, and wear what you were planning on wearing anyway. Then spend the next TWO HOURS applying makeup, hairspray, mousse, foundation, eyeliner, lipstick, mascara, hair curlers, hair straightener, perfume, etc. on. By the time you're done, the guy's gotta go wash his face, because he fell asleep in the easy chair, and has drool on the side of his face!
Shoes? For ladies, it's an addiction. What pair would look good with which outfit? Does this match the color of my eyes or handbag? Do they help to show off my pedicure and polish on my toenails?
For guys.. As long as they're comfortable, and we can wear the heck out of them, one or two pairs will do, thank you.
Food:
Yeah, I'm going there!
Girls, you totally confuse us on this one.
Let's start at the beginning. When a guy and girl date for the first time, she'll eat like a bird, hardly touch anything, and talk his ear off the entire time. He'll order what he usually would, and enjoy it. She'll take her leftovers home, and let them rot in the fridge, because she didn't really want the dish she ordered, but she doesn't want to seem ungrateful for the date.
Next, after getting to know each other better, a change happens. She'll actually start eating. However, this doesn't keep her from talking the entire time. So not only do us guys get to eat our food, but we get to see how yours looks too. The guy keeps up with the same thing. Order what you would normally, and try to keep the food pieces that could possibly fly from her mouth from landing on your plate.
Then they become an "item" or even get married. Then you find out this lady does something you never even considered: She eats ALL THE TIME. not big sit-down meals, but she's constantly snacking. Crackers here, a rice cake there, breakfast, a snack bar, a small doughnut, lunch, a candy bar, some Wheat Thins, a diet bar, Dinner, some ice cream, maybe a small slice of pie, a bag of popkorn.
It boggles the mind.
Shopping.
When I shop, I plan on what I'm going to get, know where I'm going, get in, get the stuff, and get out. Job done.
Girls?
Browse. Look over the price of this or that, this would look nice. Let's see what's in this store. I know we don't need anything here, but it would be nice to plan on a time when we might, so let's go in here and see what they've got. Try this on. Try that. What do you think that would look like in "x" room? Ad Nauseum. Can you tell that I HATE shopping? No? I'll tell you then. I HATE SHOPPING.
Yet for all of this, we are somehow able to look past this, and find someone that seems to match us. Our compliment. The other half of our being. The one who can finish your sentance before you even know you're talking about it. The Yin for your Yang.
I don't know how it happens, and I don't know WHY it happens. Yet the thing I find the most humorous about it all is this one simple fact:
The person we come to join with is one who you'd NEVER expect to deal with. They do each and every thing that you don't do, and yet somehow, instead of this being some kind of annoyance, it is something that you wind up cherishing that person for.
The same exact behavior that your brother does that can send you completely over the edge is something that you boast about to your friends because your wife did it..
The stuff that seems to melt your eyeballs to hear about is the stuff that you love when your girlfriend does it...
Nothing's as cute or as adorable when that significant other is at work. They could do something you've sworn you'd never deal with, and it becomes passable..
What is it about these unchecked emotions we've got that makes us more tolerant?
If we were to ever be able to harness the power of an emotion, then I'm sure quite a few of the "world problems" we've got going today would be taken care of.
The wars that we fight would cease, since we could promote tolerance for religious and racial differences.
The political arena would be less of a mess, since we'd be more tolerant of deciet and broken trust issues.
Wages would increase, and the cost of living would decrease, because we'd be wanting to help support and provide for each and every person we came into contact with...
The only real problem I have is that we'd also be wanting to screw each and every face we saw..
For some, that's not considered a "bad" thing.
For me, I'm just too old now to really enjoy it!
Have a great week, and a happy Mother's Day (early) for my lady readers!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
And the next number for the Powerball jackpot is...
You.
Yeah. Little 'ol you sitting there reading this.
Can you honestly believe what is happening in this economy now?
First, we get to see the "big three" automakers apply and get denied Federal Bail-out money because they honestly show that they've got no clue about cash boundaries.
Then, they come back, after a nice long coaching session with some set actors, and get granted bailout cash that they so "desperately need" for their business.
Now?
Yeah, they're trying to get you to foot the bill.
How, do you ask?
I was listening to a radio commercial on my way home from work this evening, and Chevy was blaring an ad to it's listeners:
"If you lose your job, we'll make your payments for up to 9 months"
Wow.
Just incredible.
So now I've got this overwhelming urge to run out and buy a car that I can't afford, then lose my job so that I don't have to pay for it for nearly a year, then rinse and repeat!
Doesn't that sound like FUN??
Not only that, but I'm sure that my taxes on this are going to be helping those folks who could care less about keeping a stable job in a car far longer than they should be!
Is there really no sanity in finance with "big business" anymore?
Yeah. Little 'ol you sitting there reading this.
Can you honestly believe what is happening in this economy now?
First, we get to see the "big three" automakers apply and get denied Federal Bail-out money because they honestly show that they've got no clue about cash boundaries.
Then, they come back, after a nice long coaching session with some set actors, and get granted bailout cash that they so "desperately need" for their business.
Now?
Yeah, they're trying to get you to foot the bill.
How, do you ask?
I was listening to a radio commercial on my way home from work this evening, and Chevy was blaring an ad to it's listeners:
"If you lose your job, we'll make your payments for up to 9 months"
Wow.
Just incredible.
So now I've got this overwhelming urge to run out and buy a car that I can't afford, then lose my job so that I don't have to pay for it for nearly a year, then rinse and repeat!
Doesn't that sound like FUN??
Not only that, but I'm sure that my taxes on this are going to be helping those folks who could care less about keeping a stable job in a car far longer than they should be!
Is there really no sanity in finance with "big business" anymore?
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Back, and with a new perspective!
Well, it's been a while since I've posted, and I'm not sure really where to begin here.
Things seem to be better at the house. We're not fighting, but yet there still seems to be a bit of tension running just under the surface. I don't know if this is just me, and I'm fooling myself, yet it really does feel like I'm playing with a tripwire I can't see, and the bomb it's connected to could go off at any moment.
However, until such time, I'll be willing to make things seem normal and stable if only for the sake of the kids, who were concerned about where things were going.
I'm also trying to see if taking more time to focus on my wife will help matters. Maybe I've been too self-absorbed, and haven't been spending enough time with her and tending to her needs.. Maybe we need to have personal getaway time each time the kids are at their mom's for the weekend.. Maybe I should focus more on what I love about her, instead of the things that irritate me..
Speaking of that, let me ask you all something.
As men, do you often wonder why ladies will complain about the things you do (and especially the things you DON'T do) when they get together? My wife and her two close girlfriends watch TV shows at our place on Tuesdays and Wednesdays on most weeks, and even though they try to be quiet, some of the conversation can be easily overheard, and I can hear them talk about such things. How he's doing this, and it bothers them. Or he's NOT doing this, and he really should. Why can't he do this, like she's seen other guys do? Et Cetera..
When I've been out with my guy friends, we will sometimes talk about our wives, but for the most part we avoid this. Why? Because we want to have a good time, and not have something possibly get back to the wife that we'll have to pay for later. Plain, simple, easy.
Ladies: Why do you feel the need to complain or compare your significant other to people? Why is it that just being a person isn't good enough? Are there times where you feel they just won't listen, and so talking about personal things with friends is going to better or help the situation?
Heh. Listen to me here. I'm complaining and asking for information from interweb folks about a subject that really kind of strikes me as being a bit oxymoronic...
Let's just say that I don't understand the need for comparison or complaint.
Yeah, there are times when I've found myself comparing my wife to other people. However, when I _do_ find myself doing this, I stop. I prefer to take my wife at face value. I appreciate the things she does, and I love her for the person she is, not the person she could become.
How about all of you? What are your thoughts?
Things seem to be better at the house. We're not fighting, but yet there still seems to be a bit of tension running just under the surface. I don't know if this is just me, and I'm fooling myself, yet it really does feel like I'm playing with a tripwire I can't see, and the bomb it's connected to could go off at any moment.
However, until such time, I'll be willing to make things seem normal and stable if only for the sake of the kids, who were concerned about where things were going.
I'm also trying to see if taking more time to focus on my wife will help matters. Maybe I've been too self-absorbed, and haven't been spending enough time with her and tending to her needs.. Maybe we need to have personal getaway time each time the kids are at their mom's for the weekend.. Maybe I should focus more on what I love about her, instead of the things that irritate me..
Speaking of that, let me ask you all something.
As men, do you often wonder why ladies will complain about the things you do (and especially the things you DON'T do) when they get together? My wife and her two close girlfriends watch TV shows at our place on Tuesdays and Wednesdays on most weeks, and even though they try to be quiet, some of the conversation can be easily overheard, and I can hear them talk about such things. How he's doing this, and it bothers them. Or he's NOT doing this, and he really should. Why can't he do this, like she's seen other guys do? Et Cetera..
When I've been out with my guy friends, we will sometimes talk about our wives, but for the most part we avoid this. Why? Because we want to have a good time, and not have something possibly get back to the wife that we'll have to pay for later. Plain, simple, easy.
Ladies: Why do you feel the need to complain or compare your significant other to people? Why is it that just being a person isn't good enough? Are there times where you feel they just won't listen, and so talking about personal things with friends is going to better or help the situation?
Heh. Listen to me here. I'm complaining and asking for information from interweb folks about a subject that really kind of strikes me as being a bit oxymoronic...
Let's just say that I don't understand the need for comparison or complaint.
Yeah, there are times when I've found myself comparing my wife to other people. However, when I _do_ find myself doing this, I stop. I prefer to take my wife at face value. I appreciate the things she does, and I love her for the person she is, not the person she could become.
How about all of you? What are your thoughts?
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