Saturday, January 29, 2005

Fooling Around

Dear Serious Artist,
Y'know, I got into this blogging thing because of the nutty knitters who blog, such as Stitchy McYarnpants and Yarn Harlot, two of the funniest blogs around. I also got clued into Mason-Dixon Knitting and those two gals are heee-sterical.
What I want to know is why are we, artistic quilters so darn dull? Is it because we have a 'serious artist' reputation to live up to? Geesshh!
I declare! as Fog Horn Leghorn would have said, get your butts out of the dead zone and start talking like the real wimmen that y'all are.

I will begin.

As a youth I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to look like the cover of Seventeen Magazine, in hopes of someday attracting a boy. (Humming: Someday my prince will come). That just shows you how hopelessly over the hill I am. Girls of 14 today are trying their damnedest to look like ultra cheap hookers, lest they be mistaken for virgins.
I just wish some older and wiser woman would have taken me aside then and previewed life as it truly is today.
I got that boy, even though he is chronologically 50 years of age.
I have since retired from that"Come Hither" game. I wear a nice pair of pajamas to bed with hand knit socks on my feet and a hand knit hat on my head. I get up early, 5:30 am and reheat yesterday's coffee in the microwave for us to drink in silence on the living room couch while I read my email. He totters off for a shower and returns all sparkly and shaved and gives me the 'eyebrows'. You know that look. I know that look. I put down the laptop and follow him off to the redbed.

Now, I haven't brushed my teeth yet, and my hat is covering my head, and not in a jaunty way, and I refuse to undress, which he doesn't expect. He doesn't care if I am attractive, as long as I am willing. So I ask you, " Where's the ROMANCE?"


I am not asking for romance at this hour of the morning, don't get me wrong. But why is it never mentioned in any of our future-wife-in-training courses that this is what really goes on in marriage? And that's only the sex part...

I travel a lot and find that my husband is content to make himself a bowl of pasta every night that I am away, from jarred meatless spaghetti sauce. He no doubt eats it standing up at the sink. He may vary his diet with a frozen pizza and NEVER touches the instant salad in a bag that lies in wait in the refrigerator. When I return, I am barely off the plane when he asks "What have you got in mind for dinner" like I should be thinking about feeding him as my first priority.
Arrrggghhh. Once, just once would I like to hear that he is taking me somewhere for a nice meal, a place he has already scouted out and knows I would like. This will never happen.

On the good side, he does take out the garbage without a mention from me, and he washes his own laundry, and changes the oil in my car whenever it needs it, but... he always asks me if I paid the bills. Mind you, he cannot write a check without tearing up the first one because he filled it out wrong, but he still feels that I must be slacking in the bills paying department. OK , so one time seven years ago I forgot to pay the second installment of our property taxes and had to pay a 23 dollar late fee. One goof, one time! Geeesh.

I work at home and sometimes the house shows a certain lack of attention. I have negotiated a cleaning woman and then he changed his mind because I was paying her $60 for two hours. He calculated how much he gets paid and had a minor meltdown. HE WOULD CLEAN THE HOUSE FOR THAT AMOUNT OF MONEY. Yeah, right. That lasted one week and in the interim I lost the only cleaning lady willing to come out to my neck of the woods. Grrrr.

Add to that the new role-playing game of Vindictive/Martyr he has adopted. This is how it plays out. Guests are coming for dinner and I have done the whole gourmet cooking thing, including flowers, wine, tablescape etc. From him I ASK NICELY for a vacuum and floor washing. Just a damp mop will do. Wipe up the wine drips that's all, while I shower and get glamourous. I return to find him on his hands and knees with bucket ( we have several new mops, including a Swiffer)
doing his best Cinderella imitation. Immediately I am overcome with guilt, as least I was the first time he did this. Now I get the message. Wifey don't play dat anymore.

I am no saint. I don't even qualify for nice gal most days, but hey we aren't talkin' bout me are we?

end of intermission.

He now has a smile on his face, a corpus chocked full of endorphins and he is off to cut the mustard for another day, thanks to me. Sigh. Ain't love grand?

I am going to die at 81. When are you? Click here to find out!


  1. genetically i'm humor deficient...but i do have a strong snarky (my brother tells me that is one of the uncoolest words he has ever heard and not to embarass him around his friends with the use of it) gene that i repress because i've been known to wound those with a delicate sensitivity...also, i recognize good humor when i see it and i got my one good eye on you, hangeth in

  2. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  3. Well, piffle, I assumed it would simply disappear. Just for the record, I didn't say anything unpleasant; in retrospect it simply seemed useless and failed to add anything to the discussion.

  4. When you're not home your husband cooks!! I'm impressed.

    Mine has a Mexican restaurant he likes (I do not like Mexican food...well, cumin, cilantro, or dairy... that pretty well covers it...)...

    Anyway, when I'm not home, he stops in. As he walks in the door, the Chinese woman who owns the place puts a fresh pot of coffee on, orders his shredded beef thing...then checks at his table to make sure he isn't changing his order. He never does.

    Husbands are funny things...

  5. Oh, yeah... and Mel... I'M HYSTERICAL. Really. Just "finding my voice" as a blogger...

    Trust me... eventually you will pause to procure some Poise Pad before you paw your touch pad to peruse my prose...

  6. Gee...I dunno Mel...I thought we had a pretty good time at Tommy's....even BEFORE the wine!

    My DH won't let me hire a cleaning lady even tho I have never been much with house keeping. He figures that, since I work at home, I have PLENTY of time to clean and cook....YEAH, right. I am much better at collecting stuff than getting rid of it....

    Well, as they say, misery loves company.....


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