I hate it when people mix up words that they know are wrong. For example:
Prescription/Subscription
Specific/Pacific
Imply/Infer. You get the idea.
I hate it when people overuse words in conversations: like, you know what I'm sayin, just sayin, whatever
I hate it when there's an unruly child and the parents think it's funny, cute, normal. No, it's not funny for a child to curse like a sailor nor is it cute when a child flips the bird, and it's not normal for a child to get away with stealing something.
I hate blasting car stereos, there's just no point.
I hate being asked, "Why are you going to have a cell phone when you don't answer it?" Just because it's a cell phone doesn't mean that I have to answer every call.
I hate people not taking proper care of their dogs, especially when they show up in my yard and leave a horse manure sized pile of crap on my property. I have 2 small female dogs, their poop is like pellets and the pee on the ground. I really don't appreciate your horse sized mammal lifting his leg on my grill.
I hate having to explain myself to anyone. The answer is "no" and that's all I have to say. If you really want to know why then don't get mad at my reasons.
I hate it when I make a great meal only to have someone ruin it with ketchup, I take ketchup as a personal insult.
I hate it when my coffee gets cold and I don't realize it until I take a sip of nasty coffee. I also hate that when I microwave it, it seems like I have to microwave it every other minute. It's never hot enough to stay hot, only hot enough to burn my mouth with the first sip then cool it off with the following sip.
I hate it when someone doesn't believe me when I say that I never received a call from them. Like T-Mobile is some infallible company that would always have me connect properly to a phone call and so I must therefore be lying.
I hate it when a song I've been waiting for on the radio starts playing when I reach my destination and I have to miss it because I'm running late.
I hate it when I check the time and the clock says 11:59, then I have to stare at the clock for the most agonizing 60 seconds of my life, but then my eyes get dry so I have to blink, when I open them, it's 12 and I missed it. It irks me all day.
I hate it when I'm watching a movie and hubby asks what it's about, so I have to pause it, explain it, then he leaves, comes back to ask what happened, so I have to pause it, explain it and silently curse him for interrupting right when it was getting good, or during the last 10 minutes.
I hate it when I get tongue tied while lecturing the kids about something serious because I can't keep a straight face as they crack up at Mommy sounding like an idiot.
I hate it when I have nothing to write about.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Ignorance Isn't Bliss
I need to stop reading and watching the news, I really do need to stop. It's depressing half the time and infuriating the other half. Rarely do I see a story that's positive and uplifting. There's so much going on in the world that has people up in arms about everything from childhood obesity to immigration laws to our President's birth certificate. There's picketing and protests at funerals and hate crimes of all sorts. It all boils down to one simple problem with no immediate solution...ignorance. Ignorance is defined as being uninformed which most of us are. We only know what we are taught and what we pursue to learn ourselves. Life may teach us some lessons but we will never know everything so we need to stop acting like we do.
I live in a country of freedom. I was taught that I have a right to, well, everything. Thinking in the way that I was taught I assumed that meant that everyone had a right to, again, everything. I was taught that no one, no matter what race, nationality, religious faith, or gender was excluded from having rights. I still kind of believe that. Doesn't it make sense? Everyone in the world should have the rights and freedoms I have. When I was in elementary school the Gulf War was explained to me (in school) that the U.S. was trying to help people "over there". I thought, why not just bring "them" over here? So now that we have immigration arguments and bills trying to get passed and protests that seem more like not so violent riots, none of it makes sense to me. As an adult I don't understand why people are so angry about people (PEOPLE) needing and wanting a better life. I was taught that that's what America is about.
Do I think we should just open up all borders and ports and allow anyone to waltz right on in? Of course not. But I do think that asking someone from a third world country to come up with hundreds to thousands of dollars worth of fees is ridiculous and cruel. That's like offering a starving child a sandwich if he can guess my middle name. I just don't understand how people can be so angry at other people for trying to live a decent life. And I've gotta say it, I am sick and tired of hearing the term "anchor babies". It literally makes me sick, I vomit in my mouth a little when I hear some dumb ass referring to a child this way. If I were trying to seek refuge in another country for whatever reason, personally the last thing I'd want to do is run around with a baby. But that's just me. I just don't think making a family is as calculated as anti-immigration people think it is. These are people wanting more in their lives, not criminal masterminds plotting a hostile take over of the country.
Another one I hate to read about is the picketing and protesting at funerals. Why in the world would someone think that the best time to send a message is at a funeral with signs that say "God Hates Gays"? In my personal opinion I don't think God hates anyone. There is no hate in Him as far as I'm concerned. He may have wrath and fury, but I don't think it would be aimed at someone with a good heart no matter what their orientation. And these bass ackwards people need to get it through their thick heads that being gay is not a choice, it's who they are, period. Saying that someone chooses to be gay is like saying someone chooses to be straight. I also don't like the term straight when it comes to orientation because it implies that if you are not straight, you are crooked or something and that just seems wrong to me. Why don't those fanatics picket at a parole hearing for someone that raped a 4 year old and only spent 2 years in prison? Or someone that got his 37th DUI and finally got arrested after killing a family on the interstate and only spent the night in jail, not to mention he'd most likely still have a license. Picket them! Don't picket the family that's burying their child after he/she lost their life defending our country. Not only is it ignorant and stupid behavior, it's cruel and insensitive.
Childhood obesity is something that's been plaguing me since my own childhood. First we are taught that 3 square meals is the key to good health, then it's a pyramid, now it's some other pyramid with steps and blocks for individual people's ideal nutrition. Really? Like reading labels isn't hard enough? And there's always a new study. "A new study has found that high fructose corn syrup is actually bad for you" "A new study suggests that genetically altered food may impact your waistline" How about "a new study proves once and for all that we are all idiots" there's a health news headline I'd like to read. I don't understand how the government can overlook this gross atrocity to it's own people. Here's the thing though, it's not totally the government's fault, no, it's our own, because we now better now, yet we refuse to change. Instead of choosing real food, we want something that's been processed and pre-packaged in little 100 calorie packs that tastes like a real BigMac and fries with a Diet Coke. It's unhealthy, it's unreal, and it's killing us. Yet no matter how much coverage there is, no matter how many studies show that we are digging our own graves with fudge smeared sundae spoons, very little is being done to change it. It is a personal decision on whether or not I hit a drive through at the convenient time of 2AM, but it's not my child's choice. Nope, that would be my doing. It's not my child's choice to be ignorant about health and to be morbidly obese at 9 years old and to get bullied into suicide. Nope, that would be my fault wouldn't it? Yes, it most certainly would be.
Ignorance is the worst thing we can pass on to our children. Because we know what we are taught, but after a certain age, we are no longer victims of society, we are willing participants that stay ignorant by choice. What have I done personally to give my children more than was given to me and to my parents? Well, for one, I don't have cable. I don't want my children to become the overindulgent consumers of tomorrow nor do I want them improperly influenced. I will choose what they watch because that's my responsibility. I feel like my children's education is inadequate, instead of griping about how my government is failing me, I talk to my kids about what I learned at their age about the arts, history, and basic etiquette. My daughters also practice penmanship and must write letters to family instead of emails. I teach my children that tolerance and total acceptance are not the same, they need to accept people for who they are not simply tolerate their existence. My children go to church with me and we have our faith, but they know that there are other religions that are not wrong simply because they are not the same as ours. I am not so arrogant as to believe that my faith is the right one, and I will not teach that to my children. What they do know is that there is something or someone greater than us. I aim to teach my children many many things, ignorance is one lesson I'll leave out.
I live in a country of freedom. I was taught that I have a right to, well, everything. Thinking in the way that I was taught I assumed that meant that everyone had a right to, again, everything. I was taught that no one, no matter what race, nationality, religious faith, or gender was excluded from having rights. I still kind of believe that. Doesn't it make sense? Everyone in the world should have the rights and freedoms I have. When I was in elementary school the Gulf War was explained to me (in school) that the U.S. was trying to help people "over there". I thought, why not just bring "them" over here? So now that we have immigration arguments and bills trying to get passed and protests that seem more like not so violent riots, none of it makes sense to me. As an adult I don't understand why people are so angry about people (PEOPLE) needing and wanting a better life. I was taught that that's what America is about.
Do I think we should just open up all borders and ports and allow anyone to waltz right on in? Of course not. But I do think that asking someone from a third world country to come up with hundreds to thousands of dollars worth of fees is ridiculous and cruel. That's like offering a starving child a sandwich if he can guess my middle name. I just don't understand how people can be so angry at other people for trying to live a decent life. And I've gotta say it, I am sick and tired of hearing the term "anchor babies". It literally makes me sick, I vomit in my mouth a little when I hear some dumb ass referring to a child this way. If I were trying to seek refuge in another country for whatever reason, personally the last thing I'd want to do is run around with a baby. But that's just me. I just don't think making a family is as calculated as anti-immigration people think it is. These are people wanting more in their lives, not criminal masterminds plotting a hostile take over of the country.
Another one I hate to read about is the picketing and protesting at funerals. Why in the world would someone think that the best time to send a message is at a funeral with signs that say "God Hates Gays"? In my personal opinion I don't think God hates anyone. There is no hate in Him as far as I'm concerned. He may have wrath and fury, but I don't think it would be aimed at someone with a good heart no matter what their orientation. And these bass ackwards people need to get it through their thick heads that being gay is not a choice, it's who they are, period. Saying that someone chooses to be gay is like saying someone chooses to be straight. I also don't like the term straight when it comes to orientation because it implies that if you are not straight, you are crooked or something and that just seems wrong to me. Why don't those fanatics picket at a parole hearing for someone that raped a 4 year old and only spent 2 years in prison? Or someone that got his 37th DUI and finally got arrested after killing a family on the interstate and only spent the night in jail, not to mention he'd most likely still have a license. Picket them! Don't picket the family that's burying their child after he/she lost their life defending our country. Not only is it ignorant and stupid behavior, it's cruel and insensitive.
Childhood obesity is something that's been plaguing me since my own childhood. First we are taught that 3 square meals is the key to good health, then it's a pyramid, now it's some other pyramid with steps and blocks for individual people's ideal nutrition. Really? Like reading labels isn't hard enough? And there's always a new study. "A new study has found that high fructose corn syrup is actually bad for you" "A new study suggests that genetically altered food may impact your waistline" How about "a new study proves once and for all that we are all idiots" there's a health news headline I'd like to read. I don't understand how the government can overlook this gross atrocity to it's own people. Here's the thing though, it's not totally the government's fault, no, it's our own, because we now better now, yet we refuse to change. Instead of choosing real food, we want something that's been processed and pre-packaged in little 100 calorie packs that tastes like a real BigMac and fries with a Diet Coke. It's unhealthy, it's unreal, and it's killing us. Yet no matter how much coverage there is, no matter how many studies show that we are digging our own graves with fudge smeared sundae spoons, very little is being done to change it. It is a personal decision on whether or not I hit a drive through at the convenient time of 2AM, but it's not my child's choice. Nope, that would be my doing. It's not my child's choice to be ignorant about health and to be morbidly obese at 9 years old and to get bullied into suicide. Nope, that would be my fault wouldn't it? Yes, it most certainly would be.
Ignorance is the worst thing we can pass on to our children. Because we know what we are taught, but after a certain age, we are no longer victims of society, we are willing participants that stay ignorant by choice. What have I done personally to give my children more than was given to me and to my parents? Well, for one, I don't have cable. I don't want my children to become the overindulgent consumers of tomorrow nor do I want them improperly influenced. I will choose what they watch because that's my responsibility. I feel like my children's education is inadequate, instead of griping about how my government is failing me, I talk to my kids about what I learned at their age about the arts, history, and basic etiquette. My daughters also practice penmanship and must write letters to family instead of emails. I teach my children that tolerance and total acceptance are not the same, they need to accept people for who they are not simply tolerate their existence. My children go to church with me and we have our faith, but they know that there are other religions that are not wrong simply because they are not the same as ours. I am not so arrogant as to believe that my faith is the right one, and I will not teach that to my children. What they do know is that there is something or someone greater than us. I aim to teach my children many many things, ignorance is one lesson I'll leave out.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Hair
Today one of my BFFs came over so I could color her hair. I have never even colored my own hair so I was incredibly nervous. I warned her that it may come out horrible but she insisted that I could do it and also told me that if it did come out horrible I could simply dye her hair dark to cover it all up. But it didn't come out horrible, in fact it came out beautiful! I was so proud of myself and happy for my girl because she looks so beautiful.
Peek-a-boo highlights is what they're called. It's where you take the middle section of the hair (between the crown and bottom) and apply highlights and/or color and it's hidden until you part the hair and peek-a-boo! There's a few strands of pink! It was all her idea, research on hair color options, and planning. And she felt confident that I could do it. We had a great time turning my little master bath into a makeshift salon. Her hair was all foiled up and I was very pleased to see the color was taking and the sections weren't too big so there was no striped effect.
After her hair was done we took some pix to post online with different simple hairstyles. My friend left very happy, that is until she called to inform me that she got a ticket on the way home. Her ego boost was because she got a great hair coloring and my ego boost was from the fact that I was the one that did it. Sometimes all it takes to make me feel good is a small accomplishment like doing my friend's hair and getting it right. While it was a long process I am looking forward to her next hair project. I am not even going to attempt to cut her hair, but I'd love to play colorist again.
Peek-a-boo highlights is what they're called. It's where you take the middle section of the hair (between the crown and bottom) and apply highlights and/or color and it's hidden until you part the hair and peek-a-boo! There's a few strands of pink! It was all her idea, research on hair color options, and planning. And she felt confident that I could do it. We had a great time turning my little master bath into a makeshift salon. Her hair was all foiled up and I was very pleased to see the color was taking and the sections weren't too big so there was no striped effect.
After her hair was done we took some pix to post online with different simple hairstyles. My friend left very happy, that is until she called to inform me that she got a ticket on the way home. Her ego boost was because she got a great hair coloring and my ego boost was from the fact that I was the one that did it. Sometimes all it takes to make me feel good is a small accomplishment like doing my friend's hair and getting it right. While it was a long process I am looking forward to her next hair project. I am not even going to attempt to cut her hair, but I'd love to play colorist again.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Swimsuit Season
As I have stated in a previous entry I like the way that I look. I generally have no problem shopping for clothing, however swim suits are another category altogether. I hate shopping for a bathing suit, not because of my size but because of the poor selection. I have been to the mall department stores, the specialty size stores, the general wall-to-wall marts and not one of them had anything that would look good on a slimmer person let alone a full figured chunky dunker.
I had decided to give up when I found myself mentally chanting "don't cry, don't cry, don't cry" in the Dillard's dressing room. The prints were ridiculous and the styles were not flattering at all. Of the few suits that I found tolerable the prices were outrageous! $100 or more for a one piece and all the two pieces were sold as separates for no less than $58 a piece. The one top that I liked was a whopping $68 and when I tried it on there was so much fabric meant to hide the problem area that is the stomach that it had the exact opposite effect making me look pregnant. Then of course the top had to accentuate my assets, i.e. my breasts, by making it appear that they were trying to escape the top and run away from my body. Not flattering at all. The matching bottom (a skirt) had a control top that held my "tummy" firm making my upper "tummy" into a muffin top, hence the preggo look. After I convinced myself not to cry I left the department store with the little confidence I had left.
I am not so diluted as to think that a bathing suit with slimming capabilities will instantly make me look like a size 6. But am I asking for too much if I want a bathing suit to simply get on my body without mushing, mashing, popping body parts out, or cutting off circulation for less than $100? I mean really, it doesn't take $100 worth of fabric and labor to cover my body. And then there's the prints. What is with the horrible prints? It was like searching through a collection of Picasso's impressions of bathing suits. Even the small suits for sizes 0-12 were ugly. There were animal prints that apparently were inspired by very ugly animals. Who knew a zebra could be ugly? The inventive abstract suits were no better, horrible colors clashed together, reds, browns, grays, golds, all together in haphazard splats and crisscrossed stripes that made no sense. I felt like screaming, "Are you kidding me!?!?" Instead I just gave up.
I did some online shopping and found a few suits I like. I am a bit concerned about ordering online. What if it doesn't fit? I'll have to return it and order something else. At least I'll be able to chant "Don't cry" in the comfort of my own home.
I had decided to give up when I found myself mentally chanting "don't cry, don't cry, don't cry" in the Dillard's dressing room. The prints were ridiculous and the styles were not flattering at all. Of the few suits that I found tolerable the prices were outrageous! $100 or more for a one piece and all the two pieces were sold as separates for no less than $58 a piece. The one top that I liked was a whopping $68 and when I tried it on there was so much fabric meant to hide the problem area that is the stomach that it had the exact opposite effect making me look pregnant. Then of course the top had to accentuate my assets, i.e. my breasts, by making it appear that they were trying to escape the top and run away from my body. Not flattering at all. The matching bottom (a skirt) had a control top that held my "tummy" firm making my upper "tummy" into a muffin top, hence the preggo look. After I convinced myself not to cry I left the department store with the little confidence I had left.
I am not so diluted as to think that a bathing suit with slimming capabilities will instantly make me look like a size 6. But am I asking for too much if I want a bathing suit to simply get on my body without mushing, mashing, popping body parts out, or cutting off circulation for less than $100? I mean really, it doesn't take $100 worth of fabric and labor to cover my body. And then there's the prints. What is with the horrible prints? It was like searching through a collection of Picasso's impressions of bathing suits. Even the small suits for sizes 0-12 were ugly. There were animal prints that apparently were inspired by very ugly animals. Who knew a zebra could be ugly? The inventive abstract suits were no better, horrible colors clashed together, reds, browns, grays, golds, all together in haphazard splats and crisscrossed stripes that made no sense. I felt like screaming, "Are you kidding me!?!?" Instead I just gave up.
I did some online shopping and found a few suits I like. I am a bit concerned about ordering online. What if it doesn't fit? I'll have to return it and order something else. At least I'll be able to chant "Don't cry" in the comfort of my own home.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
One of Those
My sister called me today just because. It was nice, no drama, no complaints, she just wanted to let me know that she's doing well and that she loves me. She asked how I was and I had not a doggone thing to contribute to the conversation that wasn't about one or all of the children. Not one thing! I thought about this and came to the conclusion that when I wasn't paying attention I morphed into one of those moms. You know who I'm talking (err, typing) about. The ones that talk and talk to no end about their kids, or in my case, since I don't like talking about my kids, have nothing to say.
I want to be more than so and so's mother or so and so's wife. I don't think I'm reaching for the stars here, just a little adult chat about life that has nothing to do with my offspring. That's not possible though because they somehow managed to take over my life. I'm not sure when it happened or what they want for ransom, I just know that now, not only am I a slave to them physically, mentally, and any other "ally" ending words you can think of, I'm also a slave to them conversationally.
Since I couldn't find anything interesting to talk about I made an excuse to hang up saying we'd chat later. We played phone tag a few times, each time she'd be busy and each time I'd be struggling with a child of mine, usually my son. She mentioned that she got a job that she loves to do. I said "I haven't worked long enough to discover what I love...I can tell you what I don't love though...diapers, poop, Autism, and anything under three feet tall." I'm pretty sure I'll be adding "adolescence" to that statement.
What sucks is I'm not one those mothers that say "My life was empty until I had a child". Yeah right! And I'm a monkey's uncle! If you're life was empty before you had kids then you have no right to breed. I'd hate to be the kid of one of those parents, I'd hate to have all that pressure of being my mother's only reason for living. At least dads have sports and in my husband's case, video games.
If only I could be one of those women that was fulfilled with family life. But I'm simply not wired that way. I feel like I'm being stuffed into a box that I don't fit into. After getting the kids off to school, I have lists to make, calls to make, bills to pay, errands to run, meals to cook, therapy for my son, and by the end of the day I'm starving for adult interaction. Bill collectors don't even call me anymore because I talk too much. And unfortunately for me, hubby (while he is a good man) is not the sharpest spoon in the drawer. There's not much conversation there.
My sister called me after dinner was done. I was laying on the couch with my son. She said, "What the hell is that?" She was referring to the shriek of laughter made by my daughters. As I was explaining what the noise was my son looked right at me, opened his mouth, and vomited all over me. I screamed "Oh my god! He puked on me!" she replied with a monotone "I'll call you back". She didn't call me back. I called her at 8:30 PM, she was asleep. So much for my adult conversation.
I want to be more than so and so's mother or so and so's wife. I don't think I'm reaching for the stars here, just a little adult chat about life that has nothing to do with my offspring. That's not possible though because they somehow managed to take over my life. I'm not sure when it happened or what they want for ransom, I just know that now, not only am I a slave to them physically, mentally, and any other "ally" ending words you can think of, I'm also a slave to them conversationally.
Since I couldn't find anything interesting to talk about I made an excuse to hang up saying we'd chat later. We played phone tag a few times, each time she'd be busy and each time I'd be struggling with a child of mine, usually my son. She mentioned that she got a job that she loves to do. I said "I haven't worked long enough to discover what I love...I can tell you what I don't love though...diapers, poop, Autism, and anything under three feet tall." I'm pretty sure I'll be adding "adolescence" to that statement.
What sucks is I'm not one those mothers that say "My life was empty until I had a child". Yeah right! And I'm a monkey's uncle! If you're life was empty before you had kids then you have no right to breed. I'd hate to be the kid of one of those parents, I'd hate to have all that pressure of being my mother's only reason for living. At least dads have sports and in my husband's case, video games.
If only I could be one of those women that was fulfilled with family life. But I'm simply not wired that way. I feel like I'm being stuffed into a box that I don't fit into. After getting the kids off to school, I have lists to make, calls to make, bills to pay, errands to run, meals to cook, therapy for my son, and by the end of the day I'm starving for adult interaction. Bill collectors don't even call me anymore because I talk too much. And unfortunately for me, hubby (while he is a good man) is not the sharpest spoon in the drawer. There's not much conversation there.
My sister called me after dinner was done. I was laying on the couch with my son. She said, "What the hell is that?" She was referring to the shriek of laughter made by my daughters. As I was explaining what the noise was my son looked right at me, opened his mouth, and vomited all over me. I screamed "Oh my god! He puked on me!" she replied with a monotone "I'll call you back". She didn't call me back. I called her at 8:30 PM, she was asleep. So much for my adult conversation.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Full House
I was offline for a while due to the fact that there was an entire family staying here with me. My sister-in-law and her 4 children stayed here for a couple of weeks while she waited for her new apartment to become available. It finally did and everything is back to normal. I'm very happy for her too! It was nice having one of my closest friends stay here and I know her boys filled a little space in hubby's heart that's been made by my son's delays, but I am glad to have my house back :)
I know my sis-in-law is also glad to be in her own place. I told her, you are going through everything that I'm afraid of, be proud that you are so strong. I can only hope she knows that my words were true. My girls were sad to see their cousins go, the last couple of weeks were like a huge slumber party. Bedtime was a nightmare! At the end of the night though we smiled and laughed at our goofy kids. I admit I miss them, lucky for me they are only 15 minutes away.
Without all the kids I was kind of bored today. I took a nap. Hubby played hookie today and I had a couple of errands to run with SIL (sister-in-law) and it was fun. Who knew that I'd miss her so much, and she's only been gone for 2 days! I told her, "It's too bad we're not gay, I'd marry you! I'll cook and you can do the dishes!" Every morning she'd get up and wash the dishes. I haven't washed a dish in over 2 weeks! {Sigh} I'm really going to miss her.
I know my sis-in-law is also glad to be in her own place. I told her, you are going through everything that I'm afraid of, be proud that you are so strong. I can only hope she knows that my words were true. My girls were sad to see their cousins go, the last couple of weeks were like a huge slumber party. Bedtime was a nightmare! At the end of the night though we smiled and laughed at our goofy kids. I admit I miss them, lucky for me they are only 15 minutes away.
Without all the kids I was kind of bored today. I took a nap. Hubby played hookie today and I had a couple of errands to run with SIL (sister-in-law) and it was fun. Who knew that I'd miss her so much, and she's only been gone for 2 days! I told her, "It's too bad we're not gay, I'd marry you! I'll cook and you can do the dishes!" Every morning she'd get up and wash the dishes. I haven't washed a dish in over 2 weeks! {Sigh} I'm really going to miss her.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Happy Trails To You
While my children played outside they noticed two men taking their horses for a little ride. The kids got all excited and ran up to the two strangers and were instantly awestruck at the magnificent beasts, not to mention the Marlboro men that sat upon them. My sister-in-law and I caught up with the kids to make sure they weren't bothering the horses and of course to make sure they understood that even though they seemed like nice men they were still strangers. Before I knew it my bestie and I were tossing our hair and smiling like two teenagers, it felt good.
The men and ourselves made it a point to mention our spouses, "My wife loves this horse" or "My husband used to live on a ranch". We all knew a little harmless and albeit shameless flirting wasn't hurting anyone. No one was looking for anything naughty, just a little reassurance that we all have still got "it". And we all ate it up. My bestie was adorable in her goofy way and tossing her gorgeous mane around and I was my witty smart aleck self. The two men had this cowboy charm that could win over any city girl in a New York minute. It was some of the best flirting I've ever had since none of it was inappropriate, just good clean fun.
It did make me think though, why don't we flirt anymore? Is it because hubby already has me? I look back and recall our dating days...he never flirted with me. And hubby is so thick headed that he doesn't know when I'm flirting. One time we were watching a rom-com and I did the classic sigh/head tilt at a particularly romantic moment. Hubby turned to me and said, "I'm sorry" I asked "For what?" he replied, "I'm not romantic" and he's not, but I told him, "Honey, you've never been a romantic, and that's okay." And it is okay, because I'm not talking romance per-se I'm talking about simple flirting. Batting the eye lashes and subtle cues like hair tossing. I don't know, I don't think my poor husband knows how to flirt.
As we walked back inside my girl and I chatted about the cute cowboys. We were saying things like "Oooh! He was cute! What a cowboy! He can take me for a ride anytime!" I even started singing "Happy Trails To You" and one of the Marlboro men shouted "Oh yeah!" It was really cute. But then after the giggles stopped I said to my girl, "The really sad thing is that their wives probably can't stand them" then she said "I know right! It's always like that isn't it?" Yes it is my friend, yes it is.
The men and ourselves made it a point to mention our spouses, "My wife loves this horse" or "My husband used to live on a ranch". We all knew a little harmless and albeit shameless flirting wasn't hurting anyone. No one was looking for anything naughty, just a little reassurance that we all have still got "it". And we all ate it up. My bestie was adorable in her goofy way and tossing her gorgeous mane around and I was my witty smart aleck self. The two men had this cowboy charm that could win over any city girl in a New York minute. It was some of the best flirting I've ever had since none of it was inappropriate, just good clean fun.
It did make me think though, why don't we flirt anymore? Is it because hubby already has me? I look back and recall our dating days...he never flirted with me. And hubby is so thick headed that he doesn't know when I'm flirting. One time we were watching a rom-com and I did the classic sigh/head tilt at a particularly romantic moment. Hubby turned to me and said, "I'm sorry" I asked "For what?" he replied, "I'm not romantic" and he's not, but I told him, "Honey, you've never been a romantic, and that's okay." And it is okay, because I'm not talking romance per-se I'm talking about simple flirting. Batting the eye lashes and subtle cues like hair tossing. I don't know, I don't think my poor husband knows how to flirt.
As we walked back inside my girl and I chatted about the cute cowboys. We were saying things like "Oooh! He was cute! What a cowboy! He can take me for a ride anytime!" I even started singing "Happy Trails To You" and one of the Marlboro men shouted "Oh yeah!" It was really cute. But then after the giggles stopped I said to my girl, "The really sad thing is that their wives probably can't stand them" then she said "I know right! It's always like that isn't it?" Yes it is my friend, yes it is.
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