Lets pretend I have been known to spend a few hours reading cheap fantasy smut. You know, the dress rending, flowery/graphic sort of thing. And lets pretend that a fair share of the aforementioned smut features vampires. Not the hand holding Twilight type, 'cause premarital sex is ok in my book. I mean I'm not buying a cow unless I try the milk. (now that's just dirty)
And lets say the husband HATES the whole vampire thing. Not because it is juvenile and trendy, but because he actually feels more of a connection with werewolves. So, hypothetically, of course, I am getting hot for the wrong team. So after a few months of grumbling, I decide to try a few werewolf stories. And um, no. Well, mostly no.
So for fun, here is why.
Vampires
Generally portrayed as intelligent, worldly, arrogant and slightly bored loners. I am like a moth to a flame with that sort of thing.
Werewolves
Generally portrayed as spiritual, ritualistic, instinctively driven, pack creatures. This is great too, as long as I don't have to sit around a campfire in a loin cloth listening to the history of your people. Plus, I probably won't like your pack. I don't like most people.
Vampires
Very old. That equals experience, skills. SKILLS people. And who can ague with a lover who knows exactly what to do?
Werewolves
Typical human life span. Normal range of human SKILLS. Plus they are more like animals. When is the last time you've seen a male lion wonder if the female lion is having a good time?
Vampires
Smooth perfect skin, strong, coordinated.
Werewolves
Hairy. Strong. Hairy. Lopping. HAIRY.
Vampires
Blood. Eh. Might kill you. Ok not so much.
Werewolves
Are apt to sniff your crotch. With wolf noses. Just say no to bestiality.
Vampires
Usually financially well off, with no real concern for money. Live in comfy, lovely homes with a rich history.
Werewolves
Live in caves, or huts in the middle of freaking nowhere. Might actually need food stamps.
Vampires
From another era. Often more gentlemanly, with charming antiquated habits.
Werewolves
From now. Blah. I'm from now, it's not very antiquated.
Vampires
Pale, lithe, tragic, flawed. Makes me all Florence Nightingale-y
Werewolves
Usually Native American. Tanned, built, warm. Hmmm.. sorry, what? I got distracted. Oh yes, WOLF noses. EWW.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
I do not always make good choices
So I lied to my husband today. I haven't for 9 months. And I lie like breathing. I lie when I'm cornered. I lie when I'm scared. And I was both. I just don't want to fight anymore. And when he's like that it's hard to believe that the truth will set me free. But he is not the only thing that has taught me to respond to him that way. I grew up that way. We all lie in my family, and we cover each others lies. We all know we are lying and we don't care. And it is hard, when you grow up that way, to stop. It's how you smooth things over. It's how you stay safe.
I felt that twinge. A part of me knew it was a bad idea, that it was wrong. Another part says that if he wasn't acting like a suspicious ass, I wouldn't have. Yet a whole other part of me knows that if we hadn't had all those problems last year that he wouldn't be acting this way now. But today he told me it feels like that all over.
So when I logged into my Xbox profile by mistake I turned it off and rebooted it to get into his. That is were Neflix is. He came around the corner fast as hell, asking why I turned off Xbox. And I panicked. I told him I had logged into the ex's child's profile by mistake. Such a simple lie. I just didn't want to have THAT conversation. The why didn't you want me to see your profile conversation.
Which I could have cared less about. There is nothing on any of my profiles worth hiding. I just wanted to get to Nextflix. And I didn't want to fight. But he checked on his phone. He saw that I had logged in. So we had that fight anyway. And I can't decide what pisses me off more. The fact that I have to be so transparent that he doesn't need to worry, or the fact that even still he thinks I'm up to something. I did admit to the lie though. For me that is progress. But I didn't get any credit for that. And I think I should. *sigh*
That something off he mentions is a combination of work stress, PMS, a cold, and a lack of good sex. None of which is his fault. None of which is mine. Life just happens that way sometimes. But three weeks is a long time for us to roll with the punches. Especially with the rocky year we had. But I told him I was going to give this my all, and I meant it. And I have been. And damn, people make mistakes. Especially when they are sick, and hurting and sexually frustrated and stressed.
This just cannot be the straw. It is to fucking stupid.
Sometimes I am an idiot.
I felt that twinge. A part of me knew it was a bad idea, that it was wrong. Another part says that if he wasn't acting like a suspicious ass, I wouldn't have. Yet a whole other part of me knows that if we hadn't had all those problems last year that he wouldn't be acting this way now. But today he told me it feels like that all over.
So when I logged into my Xbox profile by mistake I turned it off and rebooted it to get into his. That is were Neflix is. He came around the corner fast as hell, asking why I turned off Xbox. And I panicked. I told him I had logged into the ex's child's profile by mistake. Such a simple lie. I just didn't want to have THAT conversation. The why didn't you want me to see your profile conversation.
Which I could have cared less about. There is nothing on any of my profiles worth hiding. I just wanted to get to Nextflix. And I didn't want to fight. But he checked on his phone. He saw that I had logged in. So we had that fight anyway. And I can't decide what pisses me off more. The fact that I have to be so transparent that he doesn't need to worry, or the fact that even still he thinks I'm up to something. I did admit to the lie though. For me that is progress. But I didn't get any credit for that. And I think I should. *sigh*
That something off he mentions is a combination of work stress, PMS, a cold, and a lack of good sex. None of which is his fault. None of which is mine. Life just happens that way sometimes. But three weeks is a long time for us to roll with the punches. Especially with the rocky year we had. But I told him I was going to give this my all, and I meant it. And I have been. And damn, people make mistakes. Especially when they are sick, and hurting and sexually frustrated and stressed.
This just cannot be the straw. It is to fucking stupid.
Sometimes I am an idiot.
Friday, September 17, 2010
I will not be winning any awards this year.
I forgot my 5 year old at school today. For an hour.
There are explanations and reasons that make sense. I have a history that shows I am a loving connected mother. But it doesn't matter.
Because when you realize that the reason your husband hasn't showed up with her yet is because you were supposed to get her, all you can think of is what a horrid failure you are and how you are not fit to be a parent.
I rush to her school. I can see her from the car, swinging carelessly. She is getting good at pumping her legs. A dozen or so other children are there for the after school program. Parents are standing around, picking up their children. Parents I know, parents who shop at my shop. Parents who are not an hour late picking up their children.
Baby girl stops swinging and watches me trudge through the pea gravel to kneel at the swing set. I'm crying. She asks why. I tell her I am so sorry I was late. I can't even say I forgot her. I didn't really. I never forget her. I just forgot it was my day to get her. She hugs me, tells me it is OK. That she was a little curious why she was still here, but that she had asked the after school teacher to call me and she was told I would get her when I could.
That makes me feel even worse. She rubs my tears and tells me she loves me. I cry even harder. I am crying now.
I am too ashamed of myself to even get good and angry at the school for not calling me. She could have been sitting alone on some bench, scared and wondering why she was forgotten. Instead they folded her into their afternoon and helped me not look like the epic failure I feel I am right now.
And yes. I know we have all been forgotten at some point in our childhood. It is part of life. But we all remember it. That feeling of being unsure, unloved and alone. At least for her there is that buffer of swings, and friends, and a special after school snack. Hopefully her memory will be less memorable. Hopefully I can get my shit together.
There are explanations and reasons that make sense. I have a history that shows I am a loving connected mother. But it doesn't matter.
Because when you realize that the reason your husband hasn't showed up with her yet is because you were supposed to get her, all you can think of is what a horrid failure you are and how you are not fit to be a parent.
I rush to her school. I can see her from the car, swinging carelessly. She is getting good at pumping her legs. A dozen or so other children are there for the after school program. Parents are standing around, picking up their children. Parents I know, parents who shop at my shop. Parents who are not an hour late picking up their children.
Baby girl stops swinging and watches me trudge through the pea gravel to kneel at the swing set. I'm crying. She asks why. I tell her I am so sorry I was late. I can't even say I forgot her. I didn't really. I never forget her. I just forgot it was my day to get her. She hugs me, tells me it is OK. That she was a little curious why she was still here, but that she had asked the after school teacher to call me and she was told I would get her when I could.
That makes me feel even worse. She rubs my tears and tells me she loves me. I cry even harder. I am crying now.
I am too ashamed of myself to even get good and angry at the school for not calling me. She could have been sitting alone on some bench, scared and wondering why she was forgotten. Instead they folded her into their afternoon and helped me not look like the epic failure I feel I am right now.
And yes. I know we have all been forgotten at some point in our childhood. It is part of life. But we all remember it. That feeling of being unsure, unloved and alone. At least for her there is that buffer of swings, and friends, and a special after school snack. Hopefully her memory will be less memorable. Hopefully I can get my shit together.
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