...and so did my cruise ship.
I have lots of stories to tell about my cruise, but I'm not really in the mood yet. Despite being very sick for the first 24 hours, I did have a really good time. But I have found that as I talk about it with my husband, I sound very negative. But I think that's mostly just because I am so different from the other women.
Picture if you will, just for a moment, that Jessica Simpson has been cloned four times. That's who I went on a cruise with.
But today I want to talk about my husband, which in my opinion, is always the better topic.
How friggin' adorable is he? Is it just me?
I was really curious about what he would write. And except for the couple of moments I took to dash off a post on my second day aboard the ship, I was determined not to go online again.
So, when I got home yesterday and had a few minutes to myself, I got to read all of his posts at once. And I had a blast doing it.
He always obsesses about what a terrible writer he is. But I keep trying to tell him that the talent of a writer isn't measured in grammatical mistakes, botched spelling, and missing punctuation. The real talent of a writer is in what he says and how he says it. I think he is a wonderful writer.
I can't resist going back and refuting and/or commenting on some of the things he wrote. It's my blog after all. If he wants to have carte blanche he can write his own damn blog.
First of all, I must tell you that the house is now cleaner than it was when I left it. He did a lot of work. And I'm glad he posted about laundry, because that's the only way I was able to find stuff when I got home.
Isn't it all hot when he talks about hockey? What he didn't tell you is that it seems like he'll be a real playmaker on the team this year. He's scored at least one goal in each of his games. And he looks good in orange.
And ooooooooh! You're all in trouble. He thought my e-mail inbox would be flooded with commands to fill out that hall of fame information. But I came home to one lonely e-mail about something completely different. What he doesn't realize is that the deadline isn't until March. How sweet is that, though. He really wants me to be recognized.
Okay. And the books. I know you were all a little worried, but I'm actually glad he did it. I wanted to get rid of those books. I had shelved the special ones that I wanted to keep. I just couldn't carry those boxes down the attic stairs. So he's not in trouble. But thanks for sticking up for me!
And it really, really bugs him that I chose Tuna Girl rather than Tuna Woman or something similar. Yes, for years I would correct anyone who called a woman a girl. Yes, I still feel strongly about it. But really. Doesn't Tuna Girl just sound better? It's all about branding, Baby.
And nice try with the X Box game request. We'll see. Do you all think he deserves a present? He had a lot of fun on that London trip. And I puked most of my cruise. (And I have a feeling that if I let you guys have your way, I'd be puking through NYC too.) Oh, and he didn't mention his annual trips to Las Vegas. Strip clubs anyone? Oh hell. And there were Guam strip clubs too. Fuck a gift. I think he still owes me.
Once I got wind of that surprise party for CB, I told the other friends, who called RB the first chance they got and convinced him to cancel. I'm glad because I spent most of the afternoon on the toilet.
Tuna Man did go out and buy her a present though. And a card. And a gift bag. And the tissue paper to go with it. How sweet is that?
And okay. Who the HELL gave him permission to let you ask questions? I made some guidelines for a reason. I will not be ignored.
He didn't really dish much though, did he? And you know, when he says that all of the juicy details about me are already in the blog, he's right. I can't think of a single story that he could tell about me that you didn't already know. Well, at least not any that wouldn't reflect worse on him than me.
Here's a little conversation for you:
Me: You couldn't come up with one romantic thing you've ever done for me?
Him: *laughing a little* No. And I really sat there for a long time and thought about it too.
Me: There must be something. *thinking* *for a long time* You're right. There's nothing.
He's just not really romantic in the traditional sense. See my engagement story for confirmation. I have a very vague memory of coming home to a bedroom full of lit candles once, but that was about getting laid, and therefore not really romantic.
But don't you think that guest blogging for me is romantic in its own way? And hauling away boxes of books. And doing laundry. And he sent me those roses on our anniversary. And we take baths together and talk about our days.
I learned this past week that by comparison, we really don't have a traditional relationship. And thank god. We're partners in a way that most married people never are. And that's romance.
To set the record straight, he is SO NOT a breast man. He said Patrick only gave him two choices, so he went with the expected one. He said it was too hard to explain what he really is. And what he really is, is an abs man. He's all about hot abs. I had killer abs once. Once upon a time, B.C. (before children).
And yes he did ignore the question about my own rack. His response to me: "I'm not even going there!"
Now he wants to know what I found so special on September 23. I'm not even going there.
And the question about the "private" box cracks me up. He has no idea what you were talking about. His answer was supposed to be funny, but even I didn't get it.
He's been dying to tell that story about Dick for months. I think he thinks that it makes me look bad. I don't really think it does. I never understood why that whole thing upset him so much, and I still don't get why it still bugs him. but I'm glad he got to get it off his chest in the blog.
And as far as his list goes. Holy crap. I never thought he'd admit that to a group of strangers. And ropes.? Umm yeah. Ropes. I'm a diligent teacher.
I think it is pretty evident that he loves me a lot. I am a very lucky woman. Thanks for being so nice to him. I don't think I'm going to talk about the fact that my average daily hits went UP while I was away.
When the earth stops rocking for a moment, I'll write more about my trip.
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