How is it, that no matter how old a male individual is, they still lack enough traits to qualify them as true adults? This is of course based on the males I know. Perhaps there are males out there that indeed are adults. Anyone? Does anyone know one? Bueller? I thought not...
Source of my current rant: My boyfriend's complete INABILITY to pick up after himself. I swear, he is a tornado. Mess follows him. His cleaning abilities were stunted somewhere around the age of 8, where he realized if he took long enough, or did something wrong enough times, he could convince someone else to clean up for him because it was easier than nagging him to do so. Fast forward 19 years and I am still fighting with said 8 year old, he's just taller and much more sarcastc. His mother actually pulled me aside one day to apologize to me for him being such a slob. "I don't know what happened to him Ally May; I don't know where I went wrong."
I love Reed with all my heart, but when I see the growing pile of dirty laundry, coffee grinds across the kitchen counter, clean laundry spread across the floor rather than moved to the closet or a drawer...I have to remind myself that his good qualities far exceed this beyond annoying bad quality. "He makes you coffee every morning. He takes you out to dinner every night and never lets you pay. He remembers everything and is beyond thoughtful. He can have adult conversations about your future and money and has a very good career and head on his shoulders...blah blah blah." This is the internal dialogue going on as I simultaneously consider burning his house down so the mess bothers me less.
So, what's a girl to do? Clearly, I am not breaking up with an otherwise near perfect match just because he can't figure out what a vacuum cleaner is for. But I also don't want to fight about dirty laundry every weekend. I've tried a few approaches to this dilemma, with less than impressive results.
First, I tried imprisonment (the adult version of grounding?): We are not going anywhere or doing anything until this house is clean. I went "Gloria" on him, (Reed's favorite knickname for me when I start waving my arms around and yelling like the crazy Columbian wife on Modern Family). I dictated every move as we cleaned the house from top to bottom. I ended our successful session with high hopes and positive affirmation. "Now you just have to maintain it; just do a quick clean once a week." Fail.
Then I tried Ninja Warfare. I'm not saying a word or picking up a single thing; he will have to live in his own filth until he's so sick of it he does something about it. Major fail. He didn't even notice.
Last, I tried the Mom approach. He's not going to do it to my standards and I'll just have to do it again anyway, so I may as well just clean it myself. Fail Fail Fail. He still didn't notice and I became silently resentful until I blew up. This is also a quadruple fail because now I'm just feeding into the other tool he learned at a young age: delegation. Another tidbit I learned from his mother - Reed's elementary school teacher informed her one day that he had mastered the art of delegating responsibilities to other children. While this has worked
well for him in life, as he owns his own company, for me, it seems nothing more than an uphill battle. We met in college; assigned to the same group for a project in
Accounting class and guess who did all the work (though he swears up and down
he killed it on presentation day, and that's why we got a good grade). Six years later he's delegating household chores and we don't even live together. In the words of his people; OY VEY.
My current approach is trying to walk a fine line of cute "reminder" notes, constant nagging, cleaning here and there, and the occasional outbursts resulting in him escaping to walk the dog and the laundry basket staring me down from the kitchen table (we're currently in this situation; not speaking over a basket of sweatpants).
Suggestions and sob stories from other frustrated girlfriends/fiances/wives will be received with open arms.
P.S. For you male readers who are thinking you're the exception to this post because you are, in fact, truly a grown up: I'd bet anything that you will still do anything to see boobies (even for a second) and you still think farts are the funniest thing ever. So, I rest my case.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Cosmo, You Cray Cray
So I went to a wedding this weekend. On the beach. In Montauk, NY. At the end of October. Brrrr. Being that it was a Fall wedding, I was a bit perplexed as to what I should wear. So, when I found a charcoal dress in July for under $50 I scooped that baby up. Score right? Nope! Reed was in the wedding and learned months later his suit was the exact same charcoal color as my dress. Since he is NOT a proponent of us dressing alike, and his outfit was pretty set in stone, I was kindly (??) told to buy another dress. But I looooved my dress. So, being the resourceful chick that I am, I went online and found the same dress in another color (also on sale), and had it shipped to my house. Crisis averted. Except, I bought it a size smaller, meaning it no longer fit as perfectly as the charcoal dress (may she RIP). This inspired frantic googling of "how to lose weight in a week". Which brought me to Cosmo's website. Which leads me to the real reason for this post.
Never a huge fan of the poorly written articles or somewhat ridiculous messages to females, I probably haven't read a Cosmo mag since Freshman year of college. So, when I stumbled across their Drop 5 Pounds in a Week article, and it actually provided some healthy strategies, I thought maybe I needed to give Cosmo another chance in my adult life. So whilst on the phone with Reed last night I thought it would be fun to peruse the Relationship Advice section together. After reading 9 Signs He Likes You and finding out he does, in fact, like me, I let him pick a category. Shockingly, he picked Sex & Love (emphasis on the Sex obvi. He is a boy after all.). First article - 16 Homemade Sex Toys You Need to Try. Reed: "What the hell is a homemade sex toy?" Me: "Maybe this will inspire you to participate in arts and crafts." (I've been begging for pumpkin carving for three weeks; we've only gotten as far as purchasing the pumpkins as Reed continues to stand his ground on not participating in creative projects. But I digress.) We quickly learned DIY sex toys meant finding things around the house and bringing them to the bedroom. Basically ensuring you should never have a dinner party again, because spoons and spatulas apparently have alternative uses. Me: "Imagine if I was reading this on my own, and thought these were great ideas? What would you do if all of a sudden one night I came to bed with a donut, clothes pins, and an electric tooth brush?" Reed: "You'd quickly be leaving the bed with your donut, clothes pins, and electric tooth brush." Welp, turns out we're not DIY sex toy people. It also turns out that Cosmo is still the crazy magazine it's always been. While it certainly provided amusing conversation between Reed and me, and the quizzes are entertaining on a hungover Sunday with the girls...ladies, I BEG you, do not take this shit seriously. I'm thinking Cosmo should not be the expert on your relationships just as much as they shouldn't be giving Career & Money advice (actual category on the site). And if you're going to do the 31 Days of Hot Sex Challenge, I suggest you do it with someone you are more than casually dating, and I HIGHLY suggest you fill him in on your challenge, or he's going to be really confused when you get to Day 26 and try to make him pose naked so you can sketch him.
Never a huge fan of the poorly written articles or somewhat ridiculous messages to females, I probably haven't read a Cosmo mag since Freshman year of college. So, when I stumbled across their Drop 5 Pounds in a Week article, and it actually provided some healthy strategies, I thought maybe I needed to give Cosmo another chance in my adult life. So whilst on the phone with Reed last night I thought it would be fun to peruse the Relationship Advice section together. After reading 9 Signs He Likes You and finding out he does, in fact, like me, I let him pick a category. Shockingly, he picked Sex & Love (emphasis on the Sex obvi. He is a boy after all.). First article - 16 Homemade Sex Toys You Need to Try. Reed: "What the hell is a homemade sex toy?" Me: "Maybe this will inspire you to participate in arts and crafts." (I've been begging for pumpkin carving for three weeks; we've only gotten as far as purchasing the pumpkins as Reed continues to stand his ground on not participating in creative projects. But I digress.) We quickly learned DIY sex toys meant finding things around the house and bringing them to the bedroom. Basically ensuring you should never have a dinner party again, because spoons and spatulas apparently have alternative uses. Me: "Imagine if I was reading this on my own, and thought these were great ideas? What would you do if all of a sudden one night I came to bed with a donut, clothes pins, and an electric tooth brush?" Reed: "You'd quickly be leaving the bed with your donut, clothes pins, and electric tooth brush." Welp, turns out we're not DIY sex toy people. It also turns out that Cosmo is still the crazy magazine it's always been. While it certainly provided amusing conversation between Reed and me, and the quizzes are entertaining on a hungover Sunday with the girls...ladies, I BEG you, do not take this shit seriously. I'm thinking Cosmo should not be the expert on your relationships just as much as they shouldn't be giving Career & Money advice (actual category on the site). And if you're going to do the 31 Days of Hot Sex Challenge, I suggest you do it with someone you are more than casually dating, and I HIGHLY suggest you fill him in on your challenge, or he's going to be really confused when you get to Day 26 and try to make him pose naked so you can sketch him.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Boys. Boys. Boys.
Dear Almost 30-Year-Old Gentlemen,
My apologies in advance for the aggressive tone here, but... Why the fuck are you still acting like boys? Why are you still living in an apartment that looks like a college dorm? Still not looking for a girlfriend because you're afraid it will end your social life? And why the fuck are you not calling girls back whom you clearly like and have mucho in common with? Essentially, why are you still being a ManChild?
**For the record, I am not discussing Reed (he's gotten wind of this blog, so I may as well give credit where credit is due). Though the boy can't seem to fathom the ideas that you have to wash a bathroom weekly or that eating out (or at Mom's) every night is not acceptable, he is actually extremely adult-like when it comes to our relationship, his career, and his overall ability to have grown-up conversations. I've even had a few moments where I accidentally "girl-rambled" about the future, and he hasn't run away. Side note to all boyfriends: every girlfriend has your future planned out, including what you'll be wearing at the wedding. Also, the NameGame was played prior to your first date. You're welcome & Get over it.
So, moving back to the direction of this post, this is referencing the boys my Besties are still forced to deal with, and the boys I am happy to no longer be dealing with (as long as I don't continue to yell at Reed incessantly for the coffee spilled three days ago on the kitchen counter). With input from said Besties, we've compiled some ManChild behaviors, and some quick modifications, that could help all of us going forward:
My apologies in advance for the aggressive tone here, but... Why the fuck are you still acting like boys? Why are you still living in an apartment that looks like a college dorm? Still not looking for a girlfriend because you're afraid it will end your social life? And why the fuck are you not calling girls back whom you clearly like and have mucho in common with? Essentially, why are you still being a ManChild?
**For the record, I am not discussing Reed (he's gotten wind of this blog, so I may as well give credit where credit is due). Though the boy can't seem to fathom the ideas that you have to wash a bathroom weekly or that eating out (or at Mom's) every night is not acceptable, he is actually extremely adult-like when it comes to our relationship, his career, and his overall ability to have grown-up conversations. I've even had a few moments where I accidentally "girl-rambled" about the future, and he hasn't run away. Side note to all boyfriends: every girlfriend has your future planned out, including what you'll be wearing at the wedding. Also, the NameGame was played prior to your first date. You're welcome & Get over it.
So, moving back to the direction of this post, this is referencing the boys my Besties are still forced to deal with, and the boys I am happy to no longer be dealing with (as long as I don't continue to yell at Reed incessantly for the coffee spilled three days ago on the kitchen counter). With input from said Besties, we've compiled some ManChild behaviors, and some quick modifications, that could help all of us going forward:
- If you don't want a girlfriend, just say it. Some girls don't want a boyfriend either. Just be honest, so you don't make the poor dame fall in love with you. Bonus for you: This will make your life easier. If you tell her upfront you don't want a relationship, and she still wants to see you, you're never going to be in trouble for that. Because her friends (if they're good friends) will either tell her to evacuate immediately or defend you later on.
- If you are dating a girl, "forgot" to tell her you were terrified of commitment, and then choose to enlighten her three months and 45 sleepovers later, DO NOT call her anymore. Your sexytime privileges have been revoked. Find someone else to dine with.
- If you like a girl, CALL HER. Don't tell her she's "the coolest chick", or soo beautiful, or that all your friends like her. It doesn't matter if you're rambling this on Thursday night at the bar. Random texts without purpose and daily Words with Friends games don't count as appropriate communication either. Make. A. Move. Reed actually was a culprit of this, and six years later he got the girl - because this time he called. And now he knows better. 27 year olds, if you wait six years to pick up the phone, chances are she's going to be scooped up. And then it won't matter. And you'll be sad.
- If it's a booty call, keep it a booty call. Girls keep some boys around just for bootay too FYI . But don't muddy the waters - this is where you DON'T call her. No texting or Words with Friends on this one either. Because someone's going to get confused and you're going to be in a pickle ... With a lonely pickle (See what I did there?).
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Can I Get A Map Please?
Most non-shocking statement of 2012: I'm a control freak. I am always someone with a plan - or a planned plan at least - and it seems that currently, well, I have no plan. I have everything I want - awesome job, amazing besties, fab BF, happy family that's juuust close enough to see whenever I want, but no idea how to squeeze everything in or how life will transition going forward. So.This is very different for me. Usually I am miserable or overly concerned about the progress in one or two aspects of my life, and have a wonderful plan as to how to become happy or fix what's causing angst. I mean, clearly, I'm a bomb little planner because I got everything I currently want (except a puppy - I still really want a fucking puppy), but now I'm trying to balance it all and not spend my life wishing for everything to be more organized, better planned, and basically wrapped up in a pretty little bow.
Not for nothing, but no one tells you about this part of life. No one warns you. No one tells you there is a short period where you just want to / get to have selfish fun with your friends. And that then you reach a time, approximately around age 27ish, where you start to worry that you're going to grow old alone (if you don't count the 14 cats you'll likely share residence with), so you walk a thin line between loving singledome and wishing to find your someone ASAP. And certainly no one tells you that once you found a someone, potentially your real someone, that you'll continue attempting a balancing act. You're not really choosing one person or thing over another, but there's simply not enough time to always fit friends, family, a boyfriend, and that increasingly demanding, yet rewarding career.
For the record, I am very aware that I'm White Whining all over the place, because these are not REAL problems. Being really happy is not a problem. I am beyond beyond aware that I don't have much to complain about (knock on wood). I'm just...confused? What does one do without a plan and why doesn't anyone older and wiser have a plan I can copy? A road map of sorts? Just some suggestions perhaps? (I'm well aware few older and wisers read this blog, so I suppose that's a bit of a rhetorical question.)
Maybe no one warned me because not everyone gets this. Not everyone gets to have the awesome friend time in their 20s, mixed with career missteps, and an overall sense of non-direction, teaching you valuable life lessons and ultimately landing you in a position where you are surrounded by all the right people and things. Where you feel like you are finally doing EXACTLY what you should be doing when you should be doing it, but now you're not really sure what you should be doing next.
Since no one seems to have advice for this life moment, I guess I'll refer to my girl Carrie, who always seems to have wise input (except with boys, who picks Big over Aidan? Still not pleased about that) . . .
“Sometimes we need to stop analyzing the past, stop planning the future, stop figuring out precisely how we feel, stop deciding exactly what we want, and just see what happens.”
Not for nothing, but no one tells you about this part of life. No one warns you. No one tells you there is a short period where you just want to / get to have selfish fun with your friends. And that then you reach a time, approximately around age 27ish, where you start to worry that you're going to grow old alone (if you don't count the 14 cats you'll likely share residence with), so you walk a thin line between loving singledome and wishing to find your someone ASAP. And certainly no one tells you that once you found a someone, potentially your real someone, that you'll continue attempting a balancing act. You're not really choosing one person or thing over another, but there's simply not enough time to always fit friends, family, a boyfriend, and that increasingly demanding, yet rewarding career.
For the record, I am very aware that I'm White Whining all over the place, because these are not REAL problems. Being really happy is not a problem. I am beyond beyond aware that I don't have much to complain about (knock on wood). I'm just...confused? What does one do without a plan and why doesn't anyone older and wiser have a plan I can copy? A road map of sorts? Just some suggestions perhaps? (I'm well aware few older and wisers read this blog, so I suppose that's a bit of a rhetorical question.)
Maybe no one warned me because not everyone gets this. Not everyone gets to have the awesome friend time in their 20s, mixed with career missteps, and an overall sense of non-direction, teaching you valuable life lessons and ultimately landing you in a position where you are surrounded by all the right people and things. Where you feel like you are finally doing EXACTLY what you should be doing when you should be doing it, but now you're not really sure what you should be doing next.
Since no one seems to have advice for this life moment, I guess I'll refer to my girl Carrie, who always seems to have wise input (except with boys, who picks Big over Aidan? Still not pleased about that) . . .
“Sometimes we need to stop analyzing the past, stop planning the future, stop figuring out precisely how we feel, stop deciding exactly what we want, and just see what happens.”
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
I Want a Puppy and I Want Him NOW
I've decided puppies to me must be what babies are to other girls.
As was discussed previously, I'm not much of a baby girl. I'm not going to coo, I'm probably not even going to touch your brand new offspring unless you make me. I will say my hellos and probably do some awkward finger / handshake until I finally become comfortable around the munchkin or he reaches toddlerdome - whichever comes first. However, you saunter over with your brand new canine baby and I turn to mush.
Hence, my new jealous streak. EVERYONE around me is getting a puppy and I.Want.One. This has to be what the last single girl feels like when all her friends get married and have babies and she can't find her Prince Charming. I just want my Prince Fido. A (large) diamond ring and a condo are always nice too, but I'll wait on those and take the dog today, thankyouverymuch.
Sadly, much like the single girl who can't find a potential mate, force him to settle down, and make babies yesterday, I also cannot instantly morph my lifestyle into one that fits a new puppyfriend.
::Sigh::
In the meantime, I'll be borrowing / dognapping these little furballs who have recently entered my life:
As was discussed previously, I'm not much of a baby girl. I'm not going to coo, I'm probably not even going to touch your brand new offspring unless you make me. I will say my hellos and probably do some awkward finger / handshake until I finally become comfortable around the munchkin or he reaches toddlerdome - whichever comes first. However, you saunter over with your brand new canine baby and I turn to mush.
Hence, my new jealous streak. EVERYONE around me is getting a puppy and I.Want.One. This has to be what the last single girl feels like when all her friends get married and have babies and she can't find her Prince Charming. I just want my Prince Fido. A (large) diamond ring and a condo are always nice too, but I'll wait on those and take the dog today, thankyouverymuch.
Sadly, much like the single girl who can't find a potential mate, force him to settle down, and make babies yesterday, I also cannot instantly morph my lifestyle into one that fits a new puppyfriend.
::Sigh::
In the meantime, I'll be borrowing / dognapping these little furballs who have recently entered my life:
Monday, September 3, 2012
Ladies, Ladies, Ladies
I have a quick fashion complaint, and it centers on the brassiere. Bra straps hanging out, bras under sheer shirts, bras as shirts? When did this become okay? I'm as big a fan of fantastic lingerie as anyone, but ladies... let's cover our ladies. And NYC, I'm not sure what you chicas are thinking, but it is CERTAINLY NOT okay to walk around topless .
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Baby Got Back
Okay, for anyone who knows me...baby don't got back. But baby seems to be trying her damndest to get it. Not someone to ever turn down a meal to begin with, my struggle to say no to delicious treats is only getting harder with a new boy in my life. I've always prided (and cursed) myself on my ability to lick a plate clean, but I have met my match. Reed can go HAM on a meal like I've never seen. Dinners now mandate apps, main course, sides (or a "supplemental meal" as he likes to refer to the extra order of mac and cheese), and dessert. I haven't technically gained weight yet, but I also haven't lost weight and with the quantity of food I am requested (required?) to take in as part of this relationship, it can only be a matter of time. Especially since I am between gyms.
Operation September: Get my ass back in shape. Because I really don't want to be this kid, and right now I feel like I could eat a hippopotamus. Don't worry, I opted for a salad instead. I heart hippos too much to eat them.
Operation September: Get my ass back in shape. Because I really don't want to be this kid, and right now I feel like I could eat a hippopotamus. Don't worry, I opted for a salad instead. I heart hippos too much to eat them.
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