It's the small things

I've been curious about cranberry farming since I saw the flooded fields in whatever that juice commercial is. Every time I see it I tell my husband I wish I knew how they DO that. Today I come home and on the TiVo I see an episode of Dirty Jobs. In it mike Rowe is making bricks and.... farming cranberries. No amount of flowers or candy in the world makes me feel more special than knowing that not only does my husband listen and rememeber the seemingly insignificant things I tell him, he cares enough to act on it. He doesn't even WATCH Dirty Jobs. TiVo'd cranberry farming... that's true love.

Mrs. Manners is having a stroke

I'm floored at the sheer tackyness that abounds. Seriously. I'm awestruck.

My husband's best friend is getting "married" on the 15th. I use that term loosely because they have lived together 12 years and have an 11 year old daughter. For all intents and purposes they're married. In any case they have deiced to have it made official. Whatever. He's 38, she's 40 what's the fucking point?

So we get an invitation to the, well, not to the actual wedding, that's just for immediate family, but to the reception. Then I get an invite to a bridal shower complete with super tacky registry info included. Now let me get this straight. You've lived together over a decade. You're child in is junior high. You just bought a brand new 140k dollar house on 10 acres. And you want ME to buy YOU a fucking present?! Really? You have GOT to be shitting me.

Now as if that wasn't enough, the future Mr. Tacky has decided to have a bachelor party. Hello numbnuts! You haven't been a bachelor since the early nineties! I'm sure there will be copious amounts of drinking(which I suppose is fine on rare occasions) but there will also be mostly naked women. No way Jose. I don't roll that way. We haven't talked about it but if my husband is even entertaining the thought of attending this oh so classy affair he is sadly mistaken.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not (usually) one of those women. I don't care what he does most of the time. Fishing, hunting, football whatever. Fine. I want to spend time with my friends too. However we attend the ballet, nice restaurants our husband's think are "girly." We go to the movies, to baseball games etc. We do NOT however go to bars unescorted. I'm not going to toot my own horn too much but I'm not bad looking and I KNOW that if I patronize a place generally used to pick up a drunken conquest I will get hit on. And then I have to explain what that ring on my left finger means and that yes, I know you don't care if I'm married, but my 6'3" 250lb husband cares and you would do well to back. the. fuck. off. And I certainly don't attend functions where some naked man is going to be gyrating his goods in lap. No thank you. That's less appealing than, and not nearly as productive as, sticking flaming toothpicks in one's eardrums.


In other words I do not place my self in unsavory conditions that could, given one too many tequila shots, be detrimental to my marriage. I'm hoping my husband feels the same way. Because if he doesn't he will soon enough. No matter what kind of convincing it takes. And he would do well to remember my concealed carry license.

Girly men

I work with alot of men. Out of 400+ employees there may be three dozen women. Most of the guys I come in direct contact with are under thirty. And I've noticed some disturbing trends- blonde highlights, plucked eyebrows, tanning bed overdose, pink shirts, ankle tattoo's, manicures, enough hair gel to fix the Titanic, not to mention the jewelry in every appendage they can poke a hole in. I've never seen a man over 35 dress this way. At least not one that wasn't getting paid to tour. I could never in a million years date a guy that took longer to get ready than I do.

And can I just mention that a man putting his 28 inch waist into 42 waist pants is as bad as a a woman who tries to squeeze a size 14 butt into a size 6 six pant. For God sakes pull up your damn pants. And what's with the outdated wallet chains? It looks like your dog jumped into your back pocket.

My husband is a jeans and t-shirt guy. For special occasions he may substitute a polo shirt or a button up for the t-shirt but you ain't gettin him outta those jeans. Thankfully this is Oklahoma and no one cares. I think I've seen him in khakis twice in 6 years. He would also die before he let you put gel, mousse or dye in his hair. I think he'd cut his head completely off before you got close. As he puts it "that's women stuff." Manicures and pink shirts are so far out of his realm of reality I'm not even sure he'd know what you were talking about.

So where are all the "real" men? The ones who still change their own oil and can rescue me if I have a flat (yes I CAN change it but I'd rather not.)The ones who would protect my honor in a bar and drink beer instead of something in a hurricane glass. Where are the men who hold doors open and help me with my coat?

I could almost understand these failings from a kid of 18 or 19 (not that I would excuse it but I know how teenagers are) but by the time you hit 26 you should have a basic grasp of how treat a woman.

But that makes me think that maybe it's because women aren't the same. Women my age are mostly promiscuous, not very bright, and far from independent. If they aren't demanding respect from these guys then it's no wonder men have gotten so self absorbed.

I just sincerly hope that this is a trend and that thee are other women out there besides my self who are raising their sons to be respectful men. And who will point out to him that maybe a manacurist's chair isn't the best place to pick up a chick.