For the Ladies

This entry is for the ladies.
Men, if you read it, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
(exclamation point to the tenth degree)
(seriously, I WARNED YOU, no whining)

I’ve got it.
It only took 30 some odd years to come up with the perfect verbal rebuttal system against all things boy/man whine.
 But I’ve got it now.
I am locked and loaded.

Now, I wouldn’t throw out random verbal prescriptions to the ladies without putting said system through a rigorous beta testing phase first, so I can assure, this system works, 99.9% of the time. In fact, after a four week clinical trial with my very own lab rat who I shall identify as Robert aka “The Husband” my success rate is smoking red effective.

Sooo……to explain. You all know how men can be sorta big babies about things right? Prone to whiner moments, a bit dramatic over things us ladies typically go, ya? so whats the big deal? It’s common knowledge a woman can swiffer sweep the house, do three loads of laundry, wash windows and juggle 3 children on her hip at the same time she has a 104 degree temp and only pauses to throw up occasionally— while a man with a slight sniffle will dive onto the nearest couch and text message the closest estrogen to retrieve the remote 5 feet away…ya know, cause he’s got a sniffle. (if your male, and you’re reading this, please review the first paragraph again)  Well gather around, I have a solution.

Dialogue from the Clinical Trial:

Lab Rat: “I think my elbow hurts from picking up that box the other day.”
My response: “I have the worst cramps today, like a chainsaw massacre in my pelvis.”
Results~ A slight look of perplexed confusion followed by a no reply retreat. No mention of the elbow again.

Lab Rat: ” My back hurts, mind giving me a back rub?”
My Response: “Sure, but first will you run to the store and buy some tampons? I’m out.”
Results~ A sputter. A mutter. Another withdrawal. Neither request was honored.

Lab Rat: “I just don’t feel like working today.”
My Response: “I think having a period should be like the olden days when ladies got to lounge in a red tent and be honored for her womb. What do you think? No working for me while I renew each month?”
Results~ Hands thrown up in the air, quick about face and off to work he went. I think I’ll still lobby for that renewel vacation.

Lab Rat: “I’m in a bad mood, so and so pissed me off on that conference call.”
My Response: “I’m full of rampant unpredictable hormones that are prone to crying jags or hateful thoughts because I’m about to start my period…I’m sorry, why were you in a bad mood?”
Results~ Blank stare. Took three steps back, did an about face and went away mumbling sumthin’. I can’t be sure, but I believe it instantly took his mind off his bad conference call. Soooooo sweet of me.

Lab Rat: “Ohhh Ohhhh, I got a paper cut!!!!!”
My Response: “If it bleeds for 7 days we can discuss it.”
Results~ A bit of revulsion and I believe he responded, “Good hell, don’t put those images into my mind!!” I classify it a successful bit of perspective.

 And so on……..

However, with any good prescription and clinical trial, the warnings and possible side effects must be disclosed. There is only one and I’ve decided I can live with it.

Rebecca: “Whats wrong with you? You seem quiet today.”
Lab Rat: “I’m not telling you.”
Rebecca: “Why not? Whats up?
Lab Rat: “If I tell you anything you’ll say, cramps, or menstruation or mention tampons or childbirth, things no man wants to ever think about, so I admit nothing!”
Rebecca: “When you end a sentence with such finality you should pause and say period!”

Ya know, I was skeptical about this whole ‘Wife’ gig for some time, but I really think I’m getting the hang of it!! Use the power of verbal persuasion wisely. Think of it as shooting bullets from a six shooter, only point at what you are willing to silence, period.

 Bleeding Heart Disclaimer: no living specimens were physically or emotionally harmed during this clinical trial. Bouts of laughter and good smiles were observed, but we are of the belief that’s never a bad thing.

Driving long distance provides Robert and I ample talk time. I imagine most couples occupy the air inside a vehicle with a variation of say, talking and music, but in the case of Robert and I…….we despise each others music choices.

He is Metallica and I resemble U2. It can get ugly if we try and force our music on each other, mosh pit ugly. He wants to smoother me with the sleep pillow he says my music inspires for him. I want to remove the screw driver his music drives into my forehead and shove it through his eyeball.  The only non-violent solution is silence or talking. Our conversations often go deep South or wildly North. It depends on the leading conversational keywords………

Rebecca: ” Well, if that’s what you think you need, you better look for a new wife.”

Robert: ” I don’t want a new wife, but maybe a small harem would be fun. You don’t think having multiple husbands catering to you would be remotely interesting?”

Rebecca: “ I’v heard this concept from other men, so I won’t hold it against you, but why do men think having multiple wives would be the answer to their dreams? You’d never hear a woman state she’d like mutliple husbands, no way. There wouldn’t be enough time in the day to clean up after all of them, find things for them, sooth their egos and pump their pride. No thank you.” 

Robert: “ Oh come on, it couldn’t be that bad! Well, as a man, a house full of woman does sound appealing for many reasons.”

(OH, I’m sure it does!)

Rebecca: “Why exactly? That is, beyond only thinking you’d get to have sex all day long. Answer carefully here buddy, I have a blog and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Robert: ” I’m not saying another word.”

Rebecca: “Oh come on, I’m intrigued, lets hear it.”

Robert: “Conversation is over.”

Rebecca: “Chicken shit.”

There is a reason you never, ever, hear a woman say, “Gee, I think it would be fun to have multiple husbands.” We ladies carry a deep understanding of the implications such an arrangement would create. Ladies, can you just imagine if two of them had a sniffle or felt ill? That thought makes my toes curl. It would never work unless us gals could muster a serious mentality role reversal and men got shot up with enough estrogen to shed a few tears on a daily basis.

I’m sure in some twisted way, multiple ladies would be a swanky deal for the guys. But multiple men? Nope, I’ve thought about it, One, is plenty.

After edit~It was just decided, I’m off for another 3 or 4 days of salmon fishing. Goodie! More drive (talk) time! I hope everyone has a great week~

Last night the Hubs and I actually watched a movie together. For the record, this is an extremely rare occurrence. We simply do not, in any shape or form, share mutual tastes in movies. We have less then a handful of movies we can tolerate together and one of them happens to be Mr. & Mrs. Smith, with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. I believe he likes the movie because it’s packed with manly action, 007 mentality and Angie’s breasts. I enjoy the movie because it’s packed full of marital sarcasms, good humor and Angie’s breasts. (Plus the fact she kicks ass through the whole thing)

One scene started a debate last night that I’m still smiling over. It involved the two Smiths sitting at the dinning table eating dinner. Mr. John Smith says, “Please pass the salt.” Which Mrs. Jane Smith responds, “it’s in the middle of the table.”

I chuckled, out loud, at that part…….

My husband looked at me, clueless and asked, “Whats so funny about that part?”

I smiled, “Don’t worry hun, that was a joke meant for woman across the world.”

Husband, hits the pause on the DVD player, “Whatdoyoumean? I don’t get it, whats so funny about asking for the salt?”

Me, taking a deep breath, it’s always potential quicksand going in to insult a Males mentality. “Robert, you do that sort of thing all the time. I believe most guys do it. We can be sitting an equal distance from something and you’ll ask me to get it for you instead of  just getting it yourself. This inside joke also falls in line with the fact men will stand in the kitchen and yell out, ‘hun, where’s the ???’ and act like you’ve searched for hours when in fact, if you had opened one cupboard door, you would have seen it yourself. Or you’ll ask me to go get things you need for a project, over and over when you should have just gotten all the tools in the first place”

Robert, “Guys don’t do that. I don’t do that.”

Me, sweet kind wife, “Ah, yay ya you do. All the time.”

Robert, “Name one time.”

Viper going in for the kill, “Remember yesterday when you stood in the middle of the bedroom and called out in desperation, ‘Rebecca, I can’t find my shoes!’ and I got up from the office, walked into the bedroom, walked straight over to your side of the bed and pointed to them on the floor? Or….when you were working on the kitchen sink last week, you called out no less then 10 times for me to go get a different tool? Or…..when we were eating dinner the other night you asked me to pass the salad dressing when in fact it was closer to you then me and I said, and I quote, ‘Robert, it’s closer to you then me.’ Or…….”

Robert, recoiling from the venom in truth, “Ok, ok, no more, I’ve heard enough. Lets just watch the movie.”

I’ve cross checked this scenario with many, many woman. Through my extensive research I’ve come to the conclusion that this is indeed a universal Male thing and therefore it should be written into the Handbook for Woman. Situation 1) How to handle the salt being 1/2 the distance between you and your husband. Situation 2) How to handle a husbands feigned attempt to locate a missing item. Situation 3) How to handle a husbands request, without telling him to ‘get it yourself dammit”……

Now….if us ladies could just figure out viable solutions to the situations~

Bjorn and Bandon ~ Best Buddies

 My Golden Retriever Bandon, a.k.a. dog who is terrified of the camera, has a BFF in the form of a sweet pit bull named Bjorn. Bjorn is claimed by my Parents, how they came to own a Pit bull is a whole ‘nother story~ I guess I mention that because you don’t see a lot of retired Grandparents running around with a big bad Pit bull towing them along.

I try to give Bandon many play dates with Bjorn because my other two dogs are older and get quite bitchy if Bandon so much as tugs their ear. However, good old jaws of steel loves to romp and stomp, and chase a stick or ball with Bandon for hours at a time. She has pledged her undying love to him because of it. If the excitement he displays when he sees her is any indication, he worships the ground she prances on as well…………

But even in love, they experience the breakdown of compromise in their relationship. Sometimes, they will both decide they want the same stick and what happens from there can be described as nothing short of a drawn out test of patience and jaw strength. As this picture captured, they can fight over the same stick for an hour. Never budging, eye to eye, never letting go of the prize and certainly never, ever, voluntarily conceding the battle.

In my early days of relationships and Men, I wasn’t much on compromise. Usually, I liked to captain the boat, control the destination and smile my way into always getting exactly what I wanted. Not exactly a banner thing to admit, but it’s truth. Back in those days, if I set my heart on the stick, I’d clamp down on it and hold until it was mine, all mine, or shredded and meaningless. Tenacious was my middle name.

But I did learn to let go of the stick more often and I’ve found life is less exhausting this way. I discovered I enjoy conversations that start with, “Well what would you like or what do you want to do?” instead of, “Hey, I want this, or I want to do this.”………This isn’t a recent discovery by the way. I’ve had to test the theory out for a period of years, the good, the bad, and the ugly style………..

Although the evolution didn’t come easy for me, it has arrived in full honor. Now I get to look at life as a display, filled with choices and compromises.  Compromise isn’t about sacrificing what I believe I need, it’s about finding the balance between the people I interact with everyday. I do believe it makes me a better friend, a better Mother and a good wife. I just wish I had figured out the fine art of compromise in my twenties, it would have made a lot of things less….something………

Now, if only I could teach Bandon and Bjorn a bit of stick compromise, they could come up for air more often~

I’m still traumatized over my 15 hours of blog-be-gone wipe out. A post blogmatic syndrome that may linger and have far reaching effects. If I was afraid of pushing upgrade buttons before, I’m terrified now. That little experience could elevate my previous trepidations of technology into an all out techphobia.

I can see it, 3 years from now I’ll be envious. All of you will have high tech blogs that can serve coffee and a muffin via hightech applications and I’ll still be using my 2009 Athalupa 2.2.3 version of a template. My template will need a cane, wear dentures and have long flowing gray hair and I still won’t push the upgrade button~

Since I have seen the strobe light beyond the pearly gates of Internet oblivion I should write something profound today. Surely this qualifies me to write a book about the feeling of loss and non-existence my 15 hour flat-line represented.  Now that I have experienced official error-404 Blog death, and then resurrection, shouldn’t that make me a messiah, or a blog prophet?

At the very least, a newborn blog psychic! Have you lost touch with an old blog? A former blog read, perhaps I spoke with them on the other side of the light. Send me an email, I’ll see what I can do. I’ve got enhanced outter limits connections now (the kind you can only obtain from being pronounced officially blog dead, error-404) and they have a message for you.~ Standard fees apply and I do take paypal. 

My friends on facebook all suggested cake in celebration of my second coming. Ehh, ok, I’ll do cake, but it does fall short of the national holiday I was thinking of petitioning for.

You are correct Marc, my appreciation level for my blog is off the charts now. I will never neglect it again. On my honor! If you love something set it free, if it comes back, you’re meant to be together right? I got it, loud and clear.

Some of you may be wondering how Robert is faring……..Well, he has been extremely proud of his abilities to revive Provocation via the phone with tech support. I can’t tell you how many times he said, “Who’s the Man! Who saved your website, I did, thats who” yesterday. And then he would strut off like a model walking down a catwalk. Not once did the words “accident, delete, whoops on my part, I messed up, my fault” hit the line of thinking.

Men. Are. Interesting. Perplexing. The way they can twist any situation into a hero status- knight in shining armor scenario. As woman we have something that has been passed through generations of female genes. It’s timeless. We have choice. We can remind men the only reason we had a problem in the first place was because they did something BAD, thus squishing their cherished ego and manly status. Or……..we can choose to let them bask in their afterglow. We’ll smile a lot. Thank them. Let them marinate in their solution based glory without pointing out the obvious facts that lead to the need for resolution. Yesterday. I was grateful, appreciative and nice. Promise.  

Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m not preparing a reasonable settlement for pain and suffering due to temporary enjoyment loss and mental separation from my blog. Miss Kindle2, a day at the spa, shopping…(thank you for the comments and suggestions ladies, I like how you think!) ….it’s on the list. We ladies may choose not to kick a guy in the balls when he’s overjoyed by his hero status, but, we do not forget and we will eventually receive atonement.