A Lesson Learned. The Hard Way.

I believe that both my husband and I are decent people who take marriage and commitment seriously.  If there was one thing I had always wanted, it was to become a housewife and stay-at-home mother.  So when my husband told me he wanted to get a divorce in May 2011, citing he no longer had any feelings for me other than as a mother to his child, it felt like my whole world had crumbled down before my very eyes.  Not only were my dreams shattered, it was a huge loss to my sense of self—because for the past decade I had seen and defined myself mainly as a wife and a mother.

In the twelve years that we were together, I was always faithful to him, I never so much as looked at another, spending most of my time at home and being a mother to our daughter.  I did not work, had any career or hobbies that required me to be away from home for a long period of time, and I surrounded myself with friends who were similar in values and lifestyles.  I did not nag; my husband could go out and do things that he liked anytime.  I did not expect him to accompany me all the time, I never snooped around his things, and I did not question his coming and goings. 

I thought I was a pretty darn good wife.  It was almost too easy to blame it all on my husband based on those criteria.  And it was not as if he was a perfect husband either—ugh, far from it.  So what gives?

You know how some people need to slam into a brick wall first before changing their course?   I have always been one of them.  In this case, it had taken the end of my marriage, and then some... After the initial shock and disbelief subsided, when the anger had dissipated into sadness and loss... It was only then that I really saw, I too, was to blame for failing my marriage.

If you go a little deeper into what was my marriage, then you would start noticing the little cracks that ran deeper than they seemed.

Sure, the spontaneity and excitement that was present in the beginning of our relationship had long turned into the more stable, comfortable kind characteristic of old, married couple.  But it was not as if I was unhappy with my life, or wished for another kind of life.  I may not lust after my husband the way I used to, but I liked having him around, and found his presence comforting.  I was fine with not having a career, and I was a proud mother of a lovely daughter. I had simply settled into what I would describe as a ‘comfortable’ relationship.

So ‘comfortable,’ that during the past few years, our relationship as a ‘couple’ has deteriorated to a level where we were more like roommates rather than husband and wife.  We never invested on building a stronger bond outside that of being parents to our daughter since her birth seven years ago.  We got caught up in all those craziness that came from being new parents, and I guess we unconsciously allowed those days to lead into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months into years.  My experience with Postpartum Psychosis shortly after giving birth, and my ongoing battle with depression afterwards took precedent over building our intimacy and connection.  The severity of what happened, along with the medications I must take until now made me very wary of sex.

Our communication was also in shambles.  We did not argue much, but we also did not care much. We started living separate lives, with me focusing solely on my daughter, and him throwing himself into his work, hobbies, and ultimately into the arms of other women.  His transgressions in turn made me distance myself farther in order not to get terribly hurt, drawing a deeper wedge between us.  Over and over again we told each other we wanted to make our relationship worked, but while the scratches were adding up, what we did was just adding more bandages to the wounds without really addressing the core problem.  At the end, there was really nothing holding us together other than the fact we had a child together.

While I have always prided my good sense concerning priorities, it actually took my husband’s ending the marriage to open my eyes and admit that in my list of priorities, I had not put my marriage anywhere close to where it should be—at the top.  Being a loving mother... checked. Making sure my daughter grows up confident and enjoys learning... checked.  Keeping in touch with my good friends... checked. Defying premature aging... checked.  Staying fashionably updated... checked.

But if you asked me, when was the last time my husband and I had a dinner date together?  Blank.

 

I am aware that my husband is no saint.  He has certainly committed his share of faults and mistakes too.  But the point is, I have not done my part of the bargain either.  I have not given my marriage my best, and while I cannot change nor control my husband’s behavior, I have no excuse when it comes to myself.  By not prioritizing my relationship with my husband, I too am guilty of failing my marriage.

Going through a marriage break-up is extremely painful, but it has also been an eye-opening experience for me.  I learned this lesson the hard way, but I truly believe that it is indeed better late than never.  Here’s to a better, wiser, ENOUGH me.

He's So Vain, He Would Think This Post is NOT About Him

Just a quick post today, which would mostly be about Mr. LA (aka Mr. Lame-Ass, aka my midlife-crazed husband).  

Yep, that's the guy who bought a new SUV with a kick-ass engine a few months ago without telling me.  The same dude who then told me he wanted to get a divorce a month later.  The one I chose to stay married to despite his lame-ass-ness, because I still loved him.

How's that for a quick recap, huh? 

Sooo... when most of the people in the East Coast were dealing with the aftermath of hurricane Irene, my husband was dealing with a crisis of his own, for which he went under the knife earlier today.  Unfortunately, for a reason I'm quite ashamed to say.  

Pure vanity.  

This morning he just got a procedure done to remove his eyebags.  Yes, you read correctly.  Eyebags, people.  We actually went to one of those Dr. 90210s and got his 'problem' fixed.  Not that this is a common thing among our friends or anything like that.  I think he's probably the only (or at least the first) man that I know who's had something like this done.

Sorry, I forgot, did I mention that he's having a midlife crisis?

Anyways, to make the long story short, now that he's just fresh from the operating table, Mr. LA will be going through a period of recovery that would last between one to two weeks.  Until then, his lower eye lids are stitched up, his upper face areas swollen like he'd been beaten to a pulp, making him look a lot like Frankenstein except this one's in boxer shorts.  I have to help him apply three different types of eyedrops on an hourly basis and remind him to take his plastic-bag-full of post-surgery medications.  I would also serve as his chauffeur and make sure he's comfortable enough.  At least for the next few days.  Yes, happy, happy days!

Tomorrow, a friend of mine, who is dear to my heart, will be guest-posting on my blog.  I am humbled, not to mention damn lucky, to have her write for me.  Her posts are ALWAYS original, witty, hilarious to boot, AND insightful.  The sky's the limit for this superwoman reincarnate.  

So please, please make sure you come back tomorrow to read her post here.  She is AMAZING.  Truly one in a million. 

Now, wish me luck (and a whole lotta patience) in the next few days, as I take care of Mr. Frankenstein LA in his endeavor to become one handsome, metrosexual (click here for the Urban Dictionary's definition) man.  

LOL.

How To Lose a Husband and Alienate Your In-Laws Part 2

Continuing from Part 1

*This is a work of fiction, and all names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  Please do not do this at home.  Unless you're absolutely sure you want to get rid of your husband (and your in-laws).  In that case, you should then follow these instructions verbatim.  Viewer's discretion is advised.*

Previously, on How to Lose a Husband and Alienate Your In-Laws Part 1, I shared with you a set of lethal moves guaranteed to send Retarded Fox of Questionable Morals (aka the main villain, aka your husband) into exile.

However, do not let your guard down.  It is likely that you will encounter resistance from his sidekicks during or even after you get rid of the main villain.  Part 2 of How to Lose a Husband and Alienate Your In-Laws specifically deals with problematic cronies.  

Usually, sidekicks can be categorized into these four different types: 

• Two-Eyed Shadowless Tyrant (aka Yo Mama), 
• Radioactive Whiskeyjack (aka Yo Papa), 
• Warp Witch Downsizer (aka Yo Sista), and 
• Brain Freeze Headbanger (aka Yo Bro).

This time, to keep the element of surprise, you need to awaken the Superhero in you!   So put on your cape and that sexy thong, and activate the following Superhero Powers:

1) Sound Manipulation and Audiopathy (The ability to telepathically control people's sense of hearing).

Recommended Usage: Practice talking using your best "sex-phone" voice.  Believe me, it's a useful skill to have anyway.  If for some reason, you have no clue as to what I'm talking about, click on the play button below. 

(Link) View more Woman Sound Clips and Sexy Sound Clips

Now, every time your in-laws call, use that voice to tell them they got the wrong number and had dialed a sex phone line instead.  Use your imagination. The sky's the limit.

2) Trichokinesis + Fear Inducement (The power in which one can manipulate their own hair + the power to evoke extreme fear and horror in others).

Recommended Usage: Don't you hate it when you found suspicious-looking hair in your food?  Get the idea?  You don't even need the real nasty thing.  Just collect some from your hairbrush and cut to shorter lengths. Sprinkle them on top of the appetizer, main course, and dessert whenever you invite your in-laws for dinner.  If the hair happens to be curly, even better!

3) Superhuman Spit Detonation and Bolt Breath (The power to alienate anything with spit or your breath)

Recommended Usage: While in a conversation, scoot really close and "accidentally" spit on them. Or talk while your mouth is full so that it sprays all over them.  Repeat as many times as possible. For extra-strength booster, consume garlic, doritos, or goat cheese beforehand.

4) Dimentional Storage/Memory Manipulation (The power to cause objects/organism to vanish and rematerialize at one's will)

Recommended usage: Find pictures of you and your in-laws together.  Crop each picture right in the middle of your in-laws' faces, with your face remaining intact.  Frame these pictures and display them all around the house whenever they come to visit.

5) Electroweb + Illusion Casting (The power to hack into numbers and/or security system + the power to infinitely change their own and others appearances to their liking)

Recommended usage: print "America's Most Wanted" flyers, replacing the photos with those of your in-laws. Distribute and post the flyers around the neighborhoods where your in-laws live.

6) Bioacoustic Distruption/Communication Jammer (The ability to distrupt other's speaking and hearing abilities)

Recommended usage: download the song "Shut Up" by the Black Eyed Peas.  You can either set it as your ringtone, or an alarm feature on your iPod/iPhone.  Prior to meeting your in-laws, make the necessary gadget adjustments.  What you want is for the ringer/alarm to go off whenever your in-law starts talking.  Quickly apologize to your in-law for the "ill-timed" interruption; privately, repeat every single time he/she starts talking.

7) Chromakinesis (The ability to manipulate colors--to change any color to another)

Recommended usage: Buy one of those milk chocolate-themed body lotions (e.g.

Bath & Body Works Temptations Wickedly Hot Chocolate Body Lotion).  Mix it well with a self-tanning lotion (the darker, the better).  Repackage it, then present it as a gift to your in-law.  Wait a few days for results to appear.

8) Amalgamation +Target Eye (The ability to blend into the surroundings by fusing with the surrounding materials + the ability to cause projectiles to home in at what you're seeing)

Recommended Usage: Print this: "Have You Slapped Your Kid Today?" or "I Hate Cops" on a bumper sticker, and stick it on your in-law's car's back bumper.  Stealth is of the utmost importance here.

I wish you the best of luck in your feat.  May the Force be with you.

How to Lose a Husband and Alienate Your In-Laws Part 1

Whenever I'm pissed-off at my husband, my grown-up mind likes to conjure up imaginary--not to mention ingenious, if I do say so myself--ways to get even.  I could be sitting prim and proper in front of him having dinner, while in my head, I would be kicking his bloody arse left and right, kung-fu style.  What's not to like, eh?

In all these hypothetical situations, I'd like to call the heroine (me, that is) 'Unstoppable Jade Fox of Brilliant Mind,' and the villain (that would be my husband, of course) 'Retarded Fox of Questionable Morals.'

Behold followers, I impart to you some of the mighty moves in my Book of "How to Lose a Husband and Alienate Your In-Laws."**  The first part concentrates primarily on the main villain, whereas Part 2 would pretty much take care of his remaining sidekicks.  

**Please do not do this at home.  Unless you're absolutely sure you want to get rid of your husband (and your in-laws).  In that case, you should then follow these instructions verbatim.

1)  I call this move "The Roaring Ambush Fright."  

Damage: nerve damage, temporary blood stoppage to brain, eardrum busted. 

Result: victim may go into a fit or delirium.

You would need at least three alarm clocks for this.  The louder they are, the better.  You can also mix and match.  To give you some ideas on the different types of alarm clocks you can use, I've found this perfect article: 11 Alarm Clocks to Wake the Living Dead, by Kavita Mathur.  

Once you have the alarm clocks of your choice, set the timer of each clock to go off within 5 minutes of each other, starting from the loudest one.  Place them around the room, each one strategically placed just beyond your husband's reach, just after he fell asleep.  

In the morning, make sure you're up before those alarms are set to go off.  Pretend to be busy in the kitchen or if you have the option to be out of the house, even better.  Don't forget to repeat the above steps every other day.

 2)  The "Dreaded Flash Forehead" move.  

Damage: crushed self-image, loss of chutzpah. 

Result: victim will seek immediate hair treatment.

Take pictures of his bald spot, making sure that each one is as vivid and graphic as possible.  Taped them onto his bathroom mirror.  You can also use red marker to circle and draw arrows to further emphasize certain areas with the most hair loss.

>3)  "The Ancient Moon Crush" move.

Damage: spastic movements of Adam's apple, temporary loss of speech, bruised ego.  Result: victim may either go into a jealous fit or straight to a divorce court.

Constantly reminisce about "the one who got away."  Create a scrapbook for your exes and decorate them with words like "true love never dies" or "I wish you weren't in my dreams."  Frame them and put them around the flat screen TV.

4)  The "Double Ox Lift" move.

Damage: loss of breath, extreme embarrassment, crushed ego.

Result: victim may be the subject of office jokes or permanently quit his job.

Buy your husband a support bra for his birthday.  Then throw him a surprise party at the office.  Ask him to unwrap his present in front of his colleagues.  Shout "Surprise!!! They're for your man-boobs!!!"  Don't forget to record the special occasion, and make sure you zoom-in on his face with your video cam. 

5) The "Invisible Shield" move.

Damage: shrinkage of the testicles, blood stoppage to groin area. 

Result: victim may go into a fit or erectile dysfunction.

Insist on wearing a blindfold whenever you're having sex.  Tell him you don't want his face to ruin your "fantasies."  If you want to add insult to injury, you can also listen to you iPod while you're at it.

6) The "Mighty Wiener Chop" move.

Damage: severely broken or bruised ego.

Result: victim may try to enroll in penis enlargement program or seek immediate surgery.  Obsession with rulers may ensue.

Refer to your husband's male organ as "Timi the little Pecker."  Invite your in-laws for dinner, and ask them if "Timi the Little Pecker" is a hereditary thing.        

7) The "Deceptive Mist Hammer" move.  

Damage: bruised or broken nose, teeth knocked out, possible black eye. 

Result: sudden loss of sleep, mental disorientation.

When your husband is sleeping soundly, pretend you were asleep and then "accidentally" whack him in the face.

8)  The "Whooping Hunger Strike" move. 

Damage: hunger pangs, gastric problems, foul mood.

Result: victim may hyperventilate, but could remedy the situation easily by calling take-outs.

Prepare dinner for the kids only.  When your husband asks where is his dinner, tell him you think he needs to go on a diet anyway.

9) The "Drunken Fairy Slap" move.

>Damage: lump in throat and difficulty swallowing, shortness of breath, bulging neck veins and arteries.

Result: victim may go into a fit and/or suffer terrible nightmares.

"Accidentally" call your husband by the name of your old flame. Repeat several times a day.  

10) The "Defensive Wind Spirit" move.

Damage: nausea, gagging, general discomfort. 

Result: victim may be unable to breath, or knocked out for several minutes.

Make a habit of farting under the blanket. To help you deliver the most potent kind of gas, here's a list of things you can eat to prepare for your big night: baked beans, brussel sprouts, cheese, cauliflower, cabbage, milk, bread, eggs, beer, and raisins.

Read part 2 here...

Wassup, Dude???

A couple of nights ago, hubby and I were spending some quality time together (read: sitting side by side with our own pretty little laptops perched in front of us).  I was obsessing over numbers again; he was looking over some car websites.  Out of the blue, he said to me: "My new car is coming next week, by the way."

Hold on just a sec.  Did you say new car??  I didn't know you were buying a new car?  What's wrong with your car now?  You just bought that car, like a year ago.

He gave me one of his "you're-so-daft" look and said, "Oh, you didn't know?"

No shit.  Obviously, I have yet to master the art of telepathic communication.  "So what did you get?" I asked.

Okay, turned out the dude just bought an SUV with a kick-ass engine.  To replace the other SUV with a kick-ass engine that he just bought a little over a year ago.  Which was supposed to kick more ass than the SUV with a kick-ass engine he had before that.

What the *toot*?!?

Well, I suppose I should be thankful that it was an SUV, and not some kick-ass two-seater car like the one he bought three years ago.  I was convinced he bought that car during a temporary lapse of sanity.  Either that or he'd been smoking some kind of illegal substance behind my back.  And while we're on the topic of arses, you'd have thought that something with that many kick-ass qualities would at least provide you with plenty of space for your ass right?  Well, guess what?  The dang car didn't even have enough space for your purse, much less accommodate a small human being, such as our daughter, for example.  So the only option available was to sit with the small human being and your mommy purse on top of you, which was without a doubt, a safety hazard, not to mention butt-uncomfortable.  It kicked ass alright.  My ass, that is.

Still, the dude is changing cars as often as he's changing undies (well, alright, I admit comparing it to the frequency at which he changed undies was a bit of an exaggeration on my part. Notice the word "a bit" though. Ewww, I know).  And while I'd be delighted if he were to change undies more frequently, the same obviously does not apply to him changing cars.  Honestly, there's something weird going on with that dude. 

Um, could it be that he's undergoing some sort of midlife crisis?  Like, a second fourth puberty or something? 

I googled "male midlife crisis," and surpriseeeee!!!  Having "an unexplained desire to buy a sports car" is pretty much one of the telltale signs of midlife crisis. You see, my husband didn't use to like cars.  He was most definitely not into cars when I married him.  Well, not until recently.  As for the other telltale signs, according to my google research?  Let's just say "buying a sports car" can be considered the least of my worries.

Wait, so should I be worried then?  Is it time to book an appointment with Dr. Phil?

Oh, but the whole thing was such a cliche, I couldn't stop laughing!  HAHAHAHAHA.  I admit, I am a little worried about the dude; but right now, I'm just glad it's him and not me!  

I could not remember any time in the last six years since I've given birth that I wasn't worrying about cellulite, stretch marks, or sagging boobies.  Or fitting into the designer jeans I splurged on just before I found out I was pregnant.  And let's not forget those eye-opening experiences... when upon seeing a fine specimen of male species, my mind would momentarily forgot about everything else but to capture his attention, only to find out that the only reason he was staring my way was because I was standing next to the Playboy magazine stand.  Oh, that and the fact that I had a 7 months-old baby who at the time was drooling buckets all over my oh-so-fashionable Baby Bjorn contraption, which I was convinced was designed specifically to cover my womanly assets.  Having been through such happy times, how could I deny my husband the same experiences?

I know I should probably take this midlife crisis thingy seriously, if he is indeed having one.  But my brilliant mind works in mysterious ways, and for some reason, the thought of my self-assured husband secretly plucking his white hair in front of the mirror, or him suddenly worrying about wrinkles and excess fat, or him trying to impress college girls to prove he's still attractive enough, is downright hilarious.  Of course that doesn't mean I wouldn't kick his ass all the way to Mars if he tries anything funny.  But let the dude wear my shoes for once.

The Way We Were

I remembered the first time I met my husband.  I thought he was an arrogant rat bastard with overgrown ego who didn't even look at me when he shook my hand.  A year later, I met him again.  Yep, he was still an arrogant rat bastard with overgrown ego, who was seeing another girl at the same time he was asking me for a date.  Four years later.  We met again.  Uh huh, still an arrogant rat bastard with overgrown ego.  But I guess third time's the charm, because this time for some unknown reason he fell head over heels for me.  Given that I'm a sucker for unrepentant bad boys, what else could I do but oblige?

Oh it was some courting alright!  I must admit, the guy was smooth!  I was swept off my feet by this seemingly reformed callous heartbreaker, who mooned over me and told our mutual friends that he's found the mother of his children--me.  Like a moth to a flame, I was lost, I was smitten.  His arrogance and reputation became something that flattered me even more.  I couldn't see any flaws, I loved just about every single thing about him down to the little details:
- his hands (such masculine hands!),
- his gait (slightly bowed, giving him that relaxed yet confident cowboy walk),
- his nose (so perfect, so nicely shaped!),
- his hair (slightly wavy, curled around the nape, love it!),
- his love for sports (awww, so active, so lively!),
- the authoritative way he carries himself (grrrrrowlll! I love a man in charge!)
Even little inconsequential things like the kinds of music he played in his car became another thing for me to love and admire.

Fast forward 11 years later:
- his hands (hmm, his fingers look kinda stunted.  Masculine, but stunted.  And what was that I heard the other day about how the length of a man's fingers having to do with the size of his you-know-what?)
- his gait (yoohooooo, yeah, you! Could you just walk a little slower?  I mean, you're waaay over there, and I'm like way back here. Can't you see your wife's wearing 9 inch heels here?!?)
- his nose (uhm, darling, do you mind? Your nose's a little shiny there. Could you, like, maybe wash your face a bit more? Want me to put that Ultra Deep Pore Cleansing strip, your nose's starting look like strawberry pits).
- his hair (don't move! I think you're losing hair at the back. Want me to take a picture of it?)
- his love for sports (what do you mean you have another round of golf tomorrow morning? You just played, like, this morning!  Oh great, does that mean you'll be snoring by 9 pm tonight?  Say again? You're playing squash? When, now????)
- the authoritative way he carries himself (why, you domineering sonofa%*^@#! No, I'm not an idiot, so stop talking to me like I am one! Me?? I'm defensive? Go to the mirror and look at yourself, you pompous ass!)
The little inconsequential things like the kinds of music he plays in his car?  How on earth did I ever think he has great taste in music??  (What did you say, dear?  No, it's not by an up-and-coming artist.  The name's Lady Gaga. Oh, you've never heard of the name?  Yeah, I guess you can call her new then.  She's been around for, oh like... the last TWO FUGGIN YEARS for goodness sake!!)

Ok, so I've changed (duh).  I know I can be quite a pain in the ass sometimes.  But cut me some slack, will ya?  I bet my husband feels the same way too.  The difference between us though, he would never confess such a thing in my presence.  He's really smart that way. What can I say?  My husband's a rat bastard.  One who'd make such a good lawyer* too!  Want a proof?
*If you're not sure whether this is a compliment or an insult, you'd find the answer in my post "Lawyers."

My husband goes to bed earlier than I do. I usually sleep much later, around 2-3 am.  Until then, I usually stay up late in my private study, catching up on my reading and blogging, or simply just watching some chick flick that my husband definitely won't like on dvd.  One night, I  fell asleep on the couch in my study while watching a movie on TV.  When I awakened, it was around 6am.  Groggy and sleepy, I went to my bedroom, slipped under the covers and tried to steal a few more minutes of sleep.  When my husband woke up around 7:30am, I was already up.  As he finished getting dressed and about ready to leave for work, he gave me a kiss on the cheek and said, "Wow, I had such a good sleep last night!  The best I've had in a long time!"  To which I replied, "Oh Really?"  "Must be because you were sleeping so close next to me last night," he added.  The man can have such a sweet mouth sometimes.

The only problem was : that night, the night he supposedly "had the BEST sleep in a long, long time," was the one night I fell asleep on the couch.  I wasn't even on the damn bed, much less sleeping "so close" to him that night!  And the rat bastard didn't even notice!!!

The good housewife side of me was tempted to stay quiet and let the whole thing go.  Let my dear husband have his five seconds of thinking he's still Da Man, with his sweet talk and all that.  But by then the hilarity of the situation and the satisfaction from knowing how instantaneously I could throw his bullshit back at that smug face of his, proved too much for my bitchy side to ignore.  I looked at him, and as if he sensed something was off, he paused and said, "What?"  To which I burst out laughing, jumping up and down with glee (see the sick, perverted things I took pleasure in after years of marriage).  I pointed my finger at him and said, "Ha! Gotcha, Loverboy! I so caught you bullshitting this time!  I wasn't even in the room last night!  I fell asleep on the couch, you moron!"

For those of you who are married, do you remember how it was when you first fall in love with your husband?  What attracted you to him in the first place?  Was it his charming personality?  His looks?  His endearing peculiarities?  His brilliant mind? Was it something he said?

How has it changed (for better or worse) after a few, and years and years of marriage? After becoming parents?  After getting older?  After seeing your husband at his most comfortable, in his natural habitat? 

The Power of Fart

Hubby and I got into a fight four nights ago. Over farting issues.

Yep, you read it right.

After a decade or so of complaining about how hearing him fart loudly--in the mornings while he's brushing his teeth, when he's in the toilet doing number two, and at nights while browsing in front of the computer--is such a turn-off, husband chose last night to get offended and went on a defensive.  "Goddamn it," he barked, "You complained so much!  I can't fart, I can't pick my nose, I can't clean my ears, I can't do anything in my own house!!!"

Naturally, I fired back, "Obviously that's not true, cos I've been saying the same thing for the last decade or so, and you're still farting, picking your nose, cleaning your ears, and doing all your personal grooming in front of me.  Do NOT make it seem as if I'm some dominant wife who's gonna whip your ass at the slightest signs of passing gas!"

Ok, while this sounded as stupid an argument as it gets, we both were pretty pissed that night and refrained from speaking to each other for the next two days. I even deleted his contact from my BB messenger (and I only do this to people I hate and don't want to be friends for like, ever).  I know, I know, that was pretty immature of me...

But really, if I knew married life would involve witnessing my "prince charming" engage in the following activities: compulsive removal of ear-wax in my presence, constant extraction of dried nasal mucus or foreign bodies from the nose with a finger (sometimes two), incessant expulsion of gas accompanied by several high-sounding "toot" that varies in duration, and habitual scratching of his scrotum, I would probably have opted for the joy of single life.  Or at least tracked down a way better looking guy.  One whose face would pretty much makes up for just about anything--questionable hygiene and habits included--assuming he's also stupid enough to want to marry an average looking, uninspired, and obstinate gal like me.

Seriously, as if married life isn't hard enough with the customary display of bed head look (I'm talking about the frightful, not the sexy, Hollywood version kind) and morning breath! 

Let's face it ladies, nowadays the likelihood of me getting struck by lightning (1:500 000) has sadly surpassed the likelihood of me getting overcome by burning lust for my husband (try 1: never).  You know that famous King of Leon's song, "Sex on Fire?"  My version would be more like "Sex on Hold... until further notice."  Gone were the days where we would give up our beauty sleep in the middle of the night for a quick romp under the sheets.

Don't get me wrong, I love my husband.  But over the years, the all-consuming lust has turned into something that is more akin to affection.  You know, the warm comfy feeling you have for your teddy bear back when you were a little girl?  The one you used to snuggle to and helped you sleep better?  (Well yeah, the same one you used to bang on the floor while you threw a tantrum fit, causing it to lose one eye, but hey, that's besides the point).

While one could argue that this is probably why my sex life is just as exciting as having tea with a paddington bear, at least I don't have to wear my make-up and those itchy lingerie to bed anymore.  It's all about comfort now, mate!  I guess the same must have happened for my husband.   Judging from the ease with which he performs the acts of releasing gas and removing unwanted stuff from his nose and ears in front of me, now I wonder just how comfortable things have gotten between us.  Well, comfortable for him.  Not so much for me.

After two days of pretending we were invisible to each other, hubby raised a white flag, thereby putting a short end to our silent war on day #2.  He agreed to try to improve his manners pertaining to grooming and releasing gas, and I acquiesced to turn a blind eye to some possible "faux-pas" in the future (provided they are isolated cases that are neither avoidable nor controllable, like diarrhea for example).

Since then, it was all calm and peaceful on both fronts.  I started to rebuild my faith in the good of mankind, and was just starting to hope that perhaps sans all the farting, the nose-picking, the ear cleaning, and the toe clipping I would finally be able to relate to that "Sex on Fire" song, when a familiar "toot" sound came from not too far a place.  Across from me, to be exact.  Where my husband is sitting in front of the computer.

Lawyers

Earlier today, my husband and I were just relaxing on the sofa while watching the news on TV, when suddenly there’s this bit about Charlie Sheen and his antics.  Soon after, a famous “entertainment lawyer” went onscreen to voice his comments on the whole thing.  The title “entertainment lawyer” sorta picked my interest, cos you hear about other sorts of lawyers like criminal lawyers, divorce lawyers all the time…. but an entertainment lawyer?  Hmmm… sounded glamorous and scandalous… well, it sounded like a dream job to me!

“Gosh, an entertainment lawyer?  Must be rich, huh?” I told my husband.

“Yeah, I’m sure…” he replied.

…”Ge’ez, all these lawyers… They’re… Lawyers are… such… crooks!”  I absent-mindedly said, my vision still glued on the image of the said entertainment lawyer onscreen.

“Didn’t you tell me just the other day, that I would make an excellent lawyer?” my husband asked.

<O Shit>

Now, that doesn’t really say anything about what I think about my husband, does it?  Just thought I’d share that with you.