So, I can have a crush on someone as long as it's for the right reasons? Someone, find me a university with intelligent, funny women, and you can pack my bags for the weekend (or longer). Yeah, I didn't think so.
You must realize, of course, that this is a ridiculous double standard. I expect nothing less. And while you mention Jon Stewart's intelligence and sense of humor (the supposed permissible reasons to like someone), I notice that you didn't mention Jimmy Smit's intelligence. I wonder why. I thought you liked me for my intelligence and sense of humor. I ain't no tall, dark and handsome. Well, not tall, anyway.
And my weathergirl has a name--it's Evelyn Taft (I'll pause here to let everyone google her). Yes, she's pretty, but she also speaks Russian, has poly sci and meteorological degrees from USC, and knows all about cumulus nimbus and stratus clouds. In fact, I woke up today feeling very confident about her weather prediction. She gave me a sense of comfort. And I'm sure she can warm a cold front. Just look at those legs.
But in all seriousness, it is more than just a pretty face that does it for us guys; it's the way she presents herself confidently, tilts her head, smiles, and waxes eloquently on her subject of strength. Kind of like your Jon Stewart.
And no fair in whipping out the pregnancy card. That's just cheap.
You should not feel threatened. It's just some chick on TV. I am loyal to you. I'm not going anywhere. You're the only one I want to kiss. Just tell me it'll be sunny out.
Last word: while it is true that when mommy's not happy, nobody's happy, I'm not so sure that a "happy wife makes a happy husband." But I do know what makes me happy. Feel free to ask me.
Consider me goaded.
Love,
Michael
She Says, He Says
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
SHE SAYS: Why It's Probably Okay For Me to Have a Crush, But Not You
I'll start this off by saying that Michael is a procrastinator. He says he's on board with this whole blogging thing with me, but he has yet to write anything. So I'll have to goad him into it.
___
So today, he announces on Facebook that, "in the way my wife loves Jon Stewart and jimmy smits," he has a thing for the weather girl on - I don't know what channel (does it matter?). Not that I'm surprised. She's a blond little number who wears figure-hugging, short black dresses (what is up with the way female news anchors dress these days, anyway? I'd like to think that I'm at least somewhat hip, but jeez, they look like they're going clubbing or something half the time . . .). I'm sure she's considered hot by any number of women's husbands.
Let me just explain the difference between my crushes and yours, Mikey. I am attracted to Jon Stewart's intellect and humor, okay? You, on the other hand, are attracted to Weather Hussy's legs and knockers. Aren't you?!
This is not okay. And it is extremely dangerous to announce this when your wife is pregnant with your offspring.
Remember: a happy wife makes a happy husband :)
___
So today, he announces on Facebook that, "in the way my wife loves Jon Stewart and jimmy smits," he has a thing for the weather girl on - I don't know what channel (does it matter?). Not that I'm surprised. She's a blond little number who wears figure-hugging, short black dresses (what is up with the way female news anchors dress these days, anyway? I'd like to think that I'm at least somewhat hip, but jeez, they look like they're going clubbing or something half the time . . .). I'm sure she's considered hot by any number of women's husbands.
Let me just explain the difference between my crushes and yours, Mikey. I am attracted to Jon Stewart's intellect and humor, okay? You, on the other hand, are attracted to Weather Hussy's legs and knockers. Aren't you?!
This is not okay. And it is extremely dangerous to announce this when your wife is pregnant with your offspring.
Remember: a happy wife makes a happy husband :)
Monday, April 23, 2012
SHE SAYS: The Story of Us
Michael and I met in the fall of 1997. I was a longtime paralegal for a small law firm, and in the end-stages of a terminal first marriage. We hired this guy as a law clerk; he was awaiting his bar results, and if he passed, he would be offered a position as an associate attorney. I still remember the first time we met face-to-face - he was being introduced around the office and he shook my hand with this big, eager grin on his face, presumably excited to have been offered a job, and I looked at him and thought, "You have no idea what you're in for . . ." Yeah, you think you're going to help people and make lots of money and have this important, prestigious job? Just wait, I thought. The long hours, the demanding, micromanaging boss . . .
Anyhow, he and I hit it off immediately. We shared the same sarcastic sense of humor, and almost from the beginning, it felt like we were in cahoots. He made me laugh - a lot! He was really smart and one of the first things I noticed was how well he wrote . . . swoon. But seriously, despite all this, I was committed to my marriage, and although I really, really liked Michael, it was purely platonic. Michael had a girlfriend, too, to whom he always referred as "my girlfriend" as if she didn't have a name, and I started wondering if she was just something he made up! She was real, alright, and eventually, he proposed to her, and then promptly broke it off two weeks later. But that's his story, so I'll say no more about it.
Eventually, he began to express feelings towards me that went beyond friendship (while also dating his way around the entire twelfth floor), telling me things that I had no idea how to respond to. I resisted; I really valued his friendship and admired him as a person, but I was married, and however bad my marriage was, I was committed.
After a year and a half of unhappily working at our little firm (I knew it wouldn't turn out to be what he thought it was cracked up to be, poor bastard!), Michael, ummm, parted ways with the firm. On the day he came to collect his things, he left an envelope on my desk on which he had written instructions to me not to open until he had gone. Well, that put butterflies in my stomach. What in the world could it be? After he left, I opened it with shaky hands and inside was a card in which he had written a very sweet, very heartfelt note, telling me that I was his soul mate. After that, he was on my mind all the time.
We stayed in touch, but now it was clear that we had crossed over into something beyond purely friendship. I would meet him for lunch or for coffee (not telling my husband where I was going), sometimes bringing my toddler son with me as a "buffer," to ensure I wouldn't become reckless and do something I might regret.
To make a long story short, eventually it did turn into more, and my marriage which had been slowly imploding for years finally came crumbling down, ending in my husband's death by drug overdose in June, 1999.
There came a day - I can still picture it, Michael sitting in his car in my driveway, me standing, talking through the open driver's door - when Michael started talking about Kevin, who was two and a half by now. He said, "I wonder if I'll get to show him how to have a catch. I wonder if I'll get to see him grow up." I had no idea these words were going to come out of my mouth, but what I said was, "You know what I think? I think I'm going to marry you someday."
Michael and I were married on July 20, 2001 on the beach where we had shared some really good times, at sunset, with the waves lapping at our bare toes, surrounded by an intimate group of our closest friends and family. After Michael and I exchanged vows we had written ourselves, he got down on bended knee and made vows to my son Kevin, who was four at the time. There was not a dry eye on that beach, and Michael has raised Kevin as his own all these years.
Since then, we have added five more kids to our brood, and currently have yet another on the way. We have bought and sold a house, buried a parent, faced a surprise diagnosis of Down syndrome for one of our children, battled cancer, dealt with family issues, child-rearing issues, fought, loved, laughed, cried, and laughed some more. We've had our ups and downs, to say the least. But through most of it, our strength together seems to be a sense of humor.
__________
So, this blog is our new little experiment. Our public dialogues seem to entertain people quite a bit, and the idea for this was born on Facebook. We argue about just about anything under the sun; most of it is good-natured, and I'm almost always right.
Anyhow, he and I hit it off immediately. We shared the same sarcastic sense of humor, and almost from the beginning, it felt like we were in cahoots. He made me laugh - a lot! He was really smart and one of the first things I noticed was how well he wrote . . . swoon. But seriously, despite all this, I was committed to my marriage, and although I really, really liked Michael, it was purely platonic. Michael had a girlfriend, too, to whom he always referred as "my girlfriend" as if she didn't have a name, and I started wondering if she was just something he made up! She was real, alright, and eventually, he proposed to her, and then promptly broke it off two weeks later. But that's his story, so I'll say no more about it.
Eventually, he began to express feelings towards me that went beyond friendship (while also dating his way around the entire twelfth floor), telling me things that I had no idea how to respond to. I resisted; I really valued his friendship and admired him as a person, but I was married, and however bad my marriage was, I was committed.
After a year and a half of unhappily working at our little firm (I knew it wouldn't turn out to be what he thought it was cracked up to be, poor bastard!), Michael, ummm, parted ways with the firm. On the day he came to collect his things, he left an envelope on my desk on which he had written instructions to me not to open until he had gone. Well, that put butterflies in my stomach. What in the world could it be? After he left, I opened it with shaky hands and inside was a card in which he had written a very sweet, very heartfelt note, telling me that I was his soul mate. After that, he was on my mind all the time.
We stayed in touch, but now it was clear that we had crossed over into something beyond purely friendship. I would meet him for lunch or for coffee (not telling my husband where I was going), sometimes bringing my toddler son with me as a "buffer," to ensure I wouldn't become reckless and do something I might regret.
To make a long story short, eventually it did turn into more, and my marriage which had been slowly imploding for years finally came crumbling down, ending in my husband's death by drug overdose in June, 1999.
There came a day - I can still picture it, Michael sitting in his car in my driveway, me standing, talking through the open driver's door - when Michael started talking about Kevin, who was two and a half by now. He said, "I wonder if I'll get to show him how to have a catch. I wonder if I'll get to see him grow up." I had no idea these words were going to come out of my mouth, but what I said was, "You know what I think? I think I'm going to marry you someday."
Michael and I were married on July 20, 2001 on the beach where we had shared some really good times, at sunset, with the waves lapping at our bare toes, surrounded by an intimate group of our closest friends and family. After Michael and I exchanged vows we had written ourselves, he got down on bended knee and made vows to my son Kevin, who was four at the time. There was not a dry eye on that beach, and Michael has raised Kevin as his own all these years.
Since then, we have added five more kids to our brood, and currently have yet another on the way. We have bought and sold a house, buried a parent, faced a surprise diagnosis of Down syndrome for one of our children, battled cancer, dealt with family issues, child-rearing issues, fought, loved, laughed, cried, and laughed some more. We've had our ups and downs, to say the least. But through most of it, our strength together seems to be a sense of humor.
__________
So, this blog is our new little experiment. Our public dialogues seem to entertain people quite a bit, and the idea for this was born on Facebook. We argue about just about anything under the sun; most of it is good-natured, and I'm almost always right.
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