Its NOT that COMPLICATED!!!

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.

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.

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...

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.

Drobby bop us off...

Amy, KW and I have begun speaking jibberish this weekend. Well, that, and making odd noises.
KW and I went to Carrabelle this weekend….and I, once again, had a blast. Let me give you all some of the high points of our mini trip.

1. As we were checking into the Inn, a man that KW has deemed “Dark Charlie,” asked me a question that at first I didn’t understand. When I looked to KW for help after the second time he repeated himself (w/o me understanding him), we realized that he was asking us if we were going to “Visit Corrections.” I’m still assuming that he meant “are you going to visit a prisoner?” What do we look like, Dark Charlie, two inmate’s wives? No, there are NOT any conjugal visits in our near future…my goodness.
This brings me to #2…
2. KW and I have come to the conclusion that Dark Charlie might believe us to be women ill repute. With the way we come and go in the Inn, and the hours we keep, and the fact that we keep returning frequently, AND because I pay in cash each time, we think he might have this impression.
3. We’ve all decided that Bobby likes the “booty” song WAY too much. And his Kermit the frog dancing (dancing like he has no backbone) is a little weird. Maybe you should just keep your day job pal. :)
4. Speaking of dancing…KW might need to consider her “bubble” while bustin’ a move. With all the flailin’ around, people and their drinks might be in danger, sweetie. :) Wish I could’ve seen that one. But then again, what is a girl supposed to do when poker face comes on, right??
5. I apparently am not only a nut magnet. I also tend to attract men of a certain caliber (Dark Charlie’s been talking to people in the area, I swear!). I can now add “felons” to my list of men who find me attractive…Now it’s gay men, old men, foreigners, and felons. Where, oh where, is a good “squishy” boy??
6. Onto the jibberish. I noticed myself doing this quite a bit last night. Saying half a sentence to someone, then mumbling under breath the other half of it. Sadly, most of the time, KW and Amy knew what I was talking about. It’s that old tele-pathy, haha. However, this did get us in a bit of trouble last night. As we were speaking jibberish, another guy overheard and thought that we were talking about him….he didn’t appreciate it too much, and wanted to throw down on the KW.
7. My baby daddy and I started talking about how cute our kid would be.
8. Finally, somewhere along the lines, KW got mixed up in saying “Bobby drop us off” and it turned into “Drobby bop us off.” This was the hil-ar-ious phrase of the night (at least to me).

I was so very glad to be able to get away for a bit and have fun with friends. I really needed it after the hellacious week last week. Speaking of which….if I find out who sent a dumb anonymous letter to me by mail, there will be serious heck to pay. I swear, does anyone have a moral-o-meter anymore? Dang. If someone’s going to send me that crap in the mail, they should at least have the balls to own up to it. But I digress…

In other news, I am a college graduate. I made all A’s this semester, so I graduated with a cumulative gpa of 3.9. Yay! I was just so happy to be done for a bit. I’m going to continue on, but it will be nice to have a little bit of rest in between.

Takin' a break

I think that I’m going to take a break from this for a little while. I feel like I’m getting dull and I’m trying to work through some things…so I’m sure you won’t want to listen to that for the next little while. I hope that all is going with ok with everyone, if anyone, that reads this. And I will get back on and blog later on.

I'd rather have malaria

I’d rather have malaria than…ever have to explain why your son’s resume isn’t needed when writing his obituary.

I’d rather have malaria than…ever have to shave my legs again (dang it, Eve, why did you have to eat the fruit and get all smart? We could have lived blissfully, thinking that furry legs were the height of fashion—I’d better put here that I WILL continue to shave my legs, but I just hate doing it….)

I’d rather have malaria than…hear the phrase “Well, you’ll meet someone…someday.” Ok…yuck.

I’d rather have malaria than…ever have to replace another damn toilet paper roll. (Why in the hell is that always my job…everywhere? I swear, I have “Toilet Paper Roll Changer” plastered on my forehead or something).

I’d rather have malaria than…ever give up one of “my gays.” They provide me with a vast amount of knowledge…and give me invaluable fashion advice.

I’d rather have malaria than…ever have to explain my actions to the sheriff…again.

I’d rather have malaria than…ever have to come up with another “lesson plan” for my “hypothetical” class.

I’d rather have malaria than…to ever have to answer the “so what are your future plans” question again. BTW, I don’t know my future plans yet. I’m debating between going back to school to get my Masters and becoming a bum….I might wind up flipping a coin.

I’d rather have malaria than…listen to yet another saga of “what diet you’re on today.” My gosh, I get it, I probably SHOULD join you…but seeing as how I LOVE m&ms and popsicles and like to be lazy a lot…I probably won’t.

I’d rather have malaria than…sit through a class with professor fuzzy face who likes to make up words….like “generalizability.” (Even Microsoft WORD doesn’t recognize it, D.A.)

I’d rather have malaria than…be asked yet again if “I’ve filled out the visitor’s card” in the church I’ve been attending since 9 months before I was born.

And my all-timer…I’d rather have malaria than…hear how we do it differently here, and how it was much better where you were from. Ok, you can kiss it and drag yourself back to wherever you came from….we don’t need your expertise, we’ve been doing it fine generations….