Monday, June 22, 2009


What do women really want? I believe Adam probably wondered this about Eve in the Garden of Eden. It seems as if this question has been plaguing men since the dawn of time. Really, I don’t see any of it as being that difficult. I won’t speak for all women, but here are a few of the things that women want. Although I am single, I have been around a ton of couples, and had enough past experience to give a few suggestions.

--There are some women that really seem to be into this whole “feminizing men” bit, but most of us would like a guy who is not girlier than we are. Prime example: a guy watching a chick flick with you can be very sweet (especially if you didn’t have to jab him in the ribs and give him the stink eye to agree to it), but a guy who goes to the Blockbuster, willingly chooses a chick flick and then proceeds to sob (way more than you) is a bit much.

--It is also good to not make drastic decisions without our consent (an example being, buying a 4-wheeler out of joint account without mentioning it beforehand).

--Although it is perfectly fine to take the reins now and then, it is not ok to talk to us as if we’re your minions. Talk to us, not at us.

--If you are sick, most likely we will cater to your every whim (cough cough, guys are big babies, cough…And NO ONE has EVER been as sick as they have). We aren’t asking for you to bring us peeled grapes on a silver platter, but if we should fall ill with the epizootie…don’t ask us to run to the store to buy you some damn Doritos.

--I promise I won’t linger here, for fear of being redundant. But for crying out loud, if you’ve used all but the last square of toilet paper, REPLACE it!

--Don’t correct us, or yell at us to mention something (unless utterly important), while we are talking on the phone with someone else.

--Don’t throw your hands in the air and say “I can’t listen to you talk about this anymore,” when we’ve heard you b**** about the same thing for hours on end. Your griping is no better than ours, mister.

--A little affection in public is welcome. Making it obvious that we’re a couple is FINE. Holding hands, putting arm around, etc. is sweet. However, grabbing ass or any form of groping is a little much in public. If it gets to that point, it might just be time to take it to the house.

--If EVER you are picking on us and we give you a look where one eyebrow is raised with a death glare underneath it (not a come-hither look)…that is your cue…we want you to stop. If you get the finger or the brush-off, you’ve probably went a little too far.

--Along those same lines…If ever we say that we don’t want to talk about it. We don’t want to talk about it. If you continue to push, this may result in something similar to the ABC Pizza Parking Lot Throwdown of 2009. Errr….still fuming over that one. (Did I ever mention that occasionally I’m good at keeping a grudge??)

--We’re also not really fond of the whole backseat driver bit. If I’m going the speed limit, and there happens to be a stop sign ¾ of a mile down the road, I DO NOT want/need you to scream “STOP!” like a little girl (making me slam on brakes in the middle of a road, making me fear you've just had a heart attack, when it's just the stop sign that is still a good distance away).

--Sometimes, we like to find things out on our own. You may have the foresight to see that it won’t work out, but we still need to give it a go ourselves. And it would be friggen sweet, when it doesn’t work, to not rub that in our faces. Just a suggestion.

--Getting to talk to you once/a couple times a day is good. Calling fourteen million times a day is a little excessive. Give us time to miss you. We don't have to hear that you just cut your thumbnail to the quick. We MAY need to hear if you've just whacked your finger off with a knife and are headed to the E.R.

--Most of us LOVE to gossip or, rather, we like to "share information". We like knowing what’s going on around us, who’s with who, who got busted last weekend for whatever, and so on and so forth. Please for the love of pickles don’t scold us when we are gossiping OR give us that bull on “only women gossip”. That’s a pile of horse malarkey. You know you boys talk too…

--The answer to the “Do I look fat” question should always be answered with a firm “no.” It does not matter if we look like we’ve been sucked into a sausage casing, we ALWAYS want you to answer this question with “no.” Even if it’s a little (or big) white lie.

--It is really, really annoying to us when guys assume that when we’re moody or irritable it’s “our time of the month.” It may/may not be, but really, that is a line that you need not cross. I had a friend once that had thoroughly pissed me off with his tactlessness, and when I had the audacity to get mad at him, he turned to me and said “Is it your time of the month? Why are you mad?” Needless to say, at the time it wasn’t, and he nearly got shot. Don't blame everything on mother nature. Sometimes, it's just you, that pisses us off.

These are just some of the things that women want/don’t want. As you can see, we aren’t that hard to de-code.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Aleta's Fungi-mopolis-polish mini-mercial

I had a random thought tonight. How in the heck do some medications have side effects such as “increased gambling urge?” Could it have been that the testers of this drug just rounded up a crew from gamblers anonymous? This is just odd to me. Along those same lines…why on earth would I want medication for something as trivial as restless leg or for having less eyelashes than normal when the side effects are completely worse than the problem at hand?

I’m going to make my own mini-mercial up to prove my point and let y’all see the insanity…

“Are your toenails turning yellow? Well, try the new fungi-mopolis-polish. It’s been scientifically proven to cure the fungus that gets under the nail and begins to turn it yellow. Millions have used it and are enjoying the ability to walk around in flip flops again. “
“Fungi-mopolis-polish is not for everyone. Do not use Fungi-mopolis-polish if you will be operating heavy machinery. If you are a smoker you should not use Fungi-mopolis-polish, because it may put you at risk for a heart attack or kidney failure. Side effects are mild, but may include: cirrhosis of the liver, hair loss, weight gain, deadening of the toenail, permanent browning of the toes or feet, heartburn, an increased gambling urge, anal seepage, bladder control issues, swelling of the tongue or throat, mild to moderate acne, ear itch, and nose bleeds. Do not continue use of Fungi-mopolis-polish if you experience any of these side effects.”

Although my mini-mercial might have been a bit exaggerated, listen to some of the medicine commercials that are on tv. Some of the side effects GREATLY outweigh the actual problem. It’s insanity I tell you.

I know I’ve said this before, but I will go there again. What the hell is up with all these erectile dysfunction commercials. What happened to the good ol’ days when everything was all hush-hush. If a man had a problem he went to see his doctor, not parade the issue around on tv. I am far from modest, but what the hell? Every other commercial is that nowadays. And that “Bob” commercial…Once again, to me, it seems like E.D. is far from his only problem. Could someone get Bob a straight jacket? The man looks bat shit crazy.

On a lighter note, I’m beginning to feel more like myself. Which is mah-ve-lous. Typically my sequence is…get shocked, get depressed, get angry. Sometimes it takes me longer to progress through these stages than other times. But right now, I’m not depressed…or really angry…I think I’m at the end of the madness. I’ve kind of came to the conclusion that you can like me, you can hate me, but I want to be myself…and if you don’t like “myself” …than, you can just kiss it.

In other news, my sister got a new puppy. She’s cute as a button…but mean as a snake. She’s a chocolate lab puppy named “Kenzy” (was Kennedy…which I liked better…but Rheba hated it having 3 syllables…don’t ask). She has been tearing the Sheffield house up the last few days. So far, she’s likes to chew on toilet paper, any form of empty 20 oz bottle, boots, flip-flops, Sassy our mini poodle, cords, etc. Her newest venture is barking at the “imaginary dog” in the dishwasher (she sees her reflection). She’s a crazy puppy…but hilarious to watch. She’s much like the Road-Runner…never stopping a bit.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Drunk texting minus the alcohol

I will start this by saying that I am sitting here, sweating like a whore in church. I’m sipping ice cold water, wishing I had a margarita in hand sitting in a bath tub full of ice. Our air conditioning decided to go out tonight. It’s so hot in our house that I’m tempted to go for a drive in my car, just to feel the air conditioning blow through my hair. Even though it’s close to 11, I’m still considering it.

Oh, how I wish I had that margarita! For one, it would be a cool and refreshing drink while I’m currently in my hot-flash state. Secondly, it would provide an excuse for my recent behavior. Sadly, I cannot blame my behavior on alcohol. The only real reason I can give is loneliness and boredom.

I completely understand now how people who are a bit tipsy will just start texting random people. Over like the last 2 weeks some of my friends have been receiving text messages from me anywhere from 11 p.m.-12:30 a.m. Why, you ask? Because I am completely bored right now. I swear, I went out with friends 3 nights last week. Still, around midnight, I get bored and start texting. But this is getting problematic…so I am seriously considering throwing my phone into my pool. If it weren’t so expensive…I probably would have done it already. I have NO will power whatsoever. Every morning, I get up and think to myself “Damn it, I did it again. I’m not going to tonight.” Then, around 11 p.m. that night, it ALWAYS seems like a good idea to start texting people. The next morning, I think “OMG! I did it again!!!” Errrrrrrrr…stupid mind playing tricks on me. CURSES!!!! (hands shaking wildly in the air). I've got to stop this madness...

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

The Constant Battle

“I start to think there really is no cure for depression, that happiness is an ongoing battle, and I wonder if it isn’t one I’ll have to fight for as long as I live. I wonder if it’s worth it.”
—Elizabeth Wurtzel

I absolutely hate days like today. I got up, got dressed (begrudgingly) and went off to work. I literally sat at my desk for 2 ½ hours trying to focus. Sadly, once again, I have found myself in my little dark hole that I cannot seem to hoist my ever-growing bum out of.

It’s honestly the strangest thing ever. You can be perfectly fine one day and seem to be doing ok and handling things well, but then some days you just don’t feel that you will ever be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

See, other people might feel that they have the right to criticize me or cut me down. They never realize that I’m my toughest critic. Most days, I hate things about myself more than anyone else could.