Thursday, May 21, 2009

All about rings

Went to a wedding last Saturday. Hubby and I left together, naturally we got lost. He refused to ask for directions and I had to ask for him (so it can be his genius if we find the place and my fault if we don't?) and naturally we argued all the way

Me: You shouldn't have turned left

Him: Shebi I told you to ask for directions

Me:Thats why I told you to ask yourself

Him: But you said keep going down Westheimer

Me: Its really not too late we can park so you can ask them yourself

And we manged to argue back and forth until, I got tired and did not feel like going anymore and he claimed to be tired as well; we agreed to go home. I called my aunt who had invited us so she would not wait anymore and then hubby decides we just have to find the place (I know if I had insisted on going we would've been home in a heartbeat); we head back, find the place and ended up having a very nice time.

Two of my siblings are wedding this year, one friend has tied the knot and the other, well lets hope they make it down the isle before they break up. It all got me thinking about my ring and its multiple personality.

The Badge.
A ring could be a badge, a symbol that you are a member of the prestigious married womens' club. It means people should not disrespect you in public, you cannot indulge in playfulness or mischief like you used to and any man beside you has to be your husband, his relative or his friend. Every statement is to be punctuated by don't you know that I am a married woman, or my husband this and my husband that. I think the most interesting part of this is most women suddenly become holy at this point. I wanted to but somehow it just didn't happen, I mean my biggest sin used to be fornication (so I thought, but thats another story) and now its a sin if I refuse, so that in itself makes me feel holier :).

The Certificate.
Implies you can carry belle, sleep over, people can come and visit and meet you half dressed. Nothing to be ashamed of, after all you have a ring to brandish and so its a certificate to indulge in all the stuff you may have been doing anyways but now don't need to lie about or hide. This is especially useful when you lock yourselves in the house and take a few minutes longer than necesary to answer the door.

A Deterrent.
I recall the good old days when guys expressed likeness by hanging around you and trying to impress you. (When you get to your mid twenties, they begin to propose marriage even before asking you out or tell you how you embody everything that they've been searching for in a wife, or my personal favorite, how they just want to settle down now now now if they find the right person-and that's your cue to begin auditioning). Have come across two or three people who I just noticed hanging around (@ different times), being nice, trying to impress (like in the good old days) and suddenly it hits me that they may be trying to "get to know me" and then I go searching for my rings (I am not a ring person and besides when i was ring shopping they told me to get a loose one so I could grow into it-haven't grown into it yet, so i take it off so it doesn't get lost) and any hoo, I go find them so the dude realises its too late. I don't care wonderful you are or seem to be, if you were meant to be mine, you should have found me first. The guys bow gracefully away and tell me how lucky my man is, and I'd love to give them his number so they can tell him, but hubby already thinks I'm a psycho, no need to add fuel to his suspiscions. And anyways, as long as its not Babyface Edmunds, I'm sticking with my man.

A Reminder.
Marriage is hard, very very hard. I take that back its not hard, its just a lot of patience, forgiveness, manipulation and diplomacy. On the hard days you keep that ring on your finger to remind you of the never ending circle that your love is supposed to be. You wear that ring willing it to do its magic so you don't go screaming into the hills like a mad woman or more likely just go back home and curl up in the bed you slept on so many years ago dreaming about your fairytale job, marriage, kids and life; lord knows it was nothing like this. If wishes were horses beggars would ride. . .can't go home, this is your home now. During the trying times you grudgingly make his meals; respond to his questions with tight lipped comments (am still working on the malice thingy) he realises he majorly pissed you off and tries to make small talk, tries desperately to make you laugh; wants to make love. And in time the never ending circle does its thing and you realise that you would never trade the man beside you, with his rusty amour, feet of clay and annoying ways, for the man in your dreams of yesterday.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

A week in my life.

Cooked beans today. Hubby loved the last one so much, I feel like cooking it everyday now. Seriously, he started by overfeeding - not unusual, he does that whenever he is very hungry or he really likes the food. Next, he was composing ballads and poetry about it (just kidding, though am sure he would have if he were the ballad and poetry composing type).

My first thought was "he's having an affair" unfortunately, i cannot help the way I think. I mean, every body is happy after getting laid, but we hadn't done it enough times to justify that much praise over a pot of beans, a week later he was still praising it! Besides, I just dumped everything in the pot and it even burnt small sef. Well, he took the last of it to work this morning (began cooking in bulk when baby came, I find that it is verry convenient) amidst more adulation and accolades so, I need to cook some more; heck, we may begin to cook beans everyday from now on.

Baby was sick again. Fever crankiness, loss of appetite. I had to call my mom to ask what I was doing wrong. She said he might be teething; I tell her he did that three weeks ago, infact the second one is crowning. I didn't know they fell ill with each tooth. went to check on him during my lunch break feeling I should have called in and not gone to work. The boy was happily swinging his legs enthusiastically eating some kind of spanish rice and noodle soup. The boy did not even cry when I left, but that told me he was alright. He's fine now, again and at least I know what to expect when the top ones start coming in.

I don't know how to say this, but if I was a boy, I'd be an ass man. I have this colleague with this very cute ass and I like watching it move. I just realised I've been staring at her a bit too much when she caught me looking for the second time in one day and now I have to make a conscious effort not to look and its been sooo hard. Don't get me wrong, I am not gay. Personally I am not homo phobic or homo curious. am not interested in boobs, it would be akward trying to make love to a woman and feel her breasts, beside, part of the turn on in sex is feeling his member grow, you wont get that with a woman and how about the ridges and contuours? and seriously a dildo would not trmble and pulse or shoot anything warm, no I am not gay.I just admire her ass the way people admire a pretty face.

:) how was your week?