We’ve Been Watching A Lot Of Documentaries Lately…

… and I’m not sure why.

Maybe Netflix is starting to get more lame than usual. I mean they just took Planes, Trains, and Automobiles off the Instant Streaming – just how in the shit am I supposed to watch it at least once a week now?

Really I think it’s that we go in cycles as to what kinds of movies we watch. Sometimes we go for marathon cartoon shows, like the Simpsons. Twenty episodes in one day and all that. Other times we go for scary movies or funny movies. Or new ones.

I should mention that we don’t watch regular television at all, with the exception of sports, so it’s either movies, On Demand, or Netflix…

Or nothing. Often it’s nothing.

ANYWHO, so we’ve been watching a lot of documentaries lately. And I’m not sure why. And all of them have a little bit of weirdness to them.

Here are the three we’ve watched this weekend:

Mansome

My husband and I watched Mansome Saturday night. Of course anything Morgan Spurlock and/or Jason Bateman is going to be a necessary win, though it was a little horrifying in and of itself in content.

I mean it was all about men and their grooming practices. And their balls.

It also prompted me to look up Jason Bateman on Wikipedia. You know, while I was sitting there next to my husband. I wanted to know if Bateman was in fact “happily” married. You know, while I was sitting there next to my husband…

So he is. And I didn’t realize that his older sister was the one that played Malory on Family Ties. No shit, right? Well I clicked on her Wikipedia page and BOY… does she look awful now. The 80s and Family Ties and show business really did a number on her…

Back to Mansome. So the best parts of this film were when they interviewed this total weirdo with a really long, red beard. Which was totally different in color than the hair on his head, I might add. He won some European beard contest – a little weird to travel across the world to participate in, but whatever gets you going.

And I should mention that – sure – he was all up on taking care of his beard, but in the scene that showed him getting in his car we learned that he wasn’t quite as enthusiastic about taking care of his car.

I’m saying his car was a total piece of shit. Maybe not relevant, but maybe it is. I mean if a guy is worried so much about his beard but not his mode of transportation…

The other completely off-the-hook part was when they showed the product creator and the focus group for this product called Fresh Balls. Basically it’s a gel that men rub on their junk to stop chafing and “batwings” (which I had no idea existed until watching this highly educational film).

And I suppose close seconds in terms of “greatest parts” of the film were when this totally closeted gay guy has his eyebrows threaded to remove five rogue hairs (he called himself metrosexual … I mean, who does that?); and, when the professional wrestler has his friend shave his ass with an electric razor.

Talking Heads: Stop Making Sense

This afternoon, my husband decided he was going to force all of us to sit down in front of the television and watch this.

He said it would be an experience. That it would be a musical experience we all should appreciate.

Now I can appreciate the nostalgia of remembering a few of the songs. And I can appreciate the aesthetics of the post-punk, avant garde era that made up the Talking Heads of the 80s.

But after a while it just got old. Very, very old. And could that bass player be any more doped out, in her 80s pantsuit that had its own wings? Obviously not batwings, because she didn’t (I don’t think) have testicles; but wings flapping out the side of her pants that just made me think of the whole batwings thing. Then I laughed out loud and my husband got mad.

Thanks a lot. Bitch.

At a certain point in the whole charade going on in this concert film, the tall, skinny, lanky, wiggly guy that is the lead singer just randomly started running around the stage like a complete moron. I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life – he just started jogging. Then sprinting. Then jogging a little bit more. Then at a point he got on the ground and sang while dry-humping the air. Then he went back on another jog around the stage.

It was just too bizarre for words.

Microcosmos

Finally, this evening, I was bored and we had nothing else to do but vegetate like broccoli. So I decided we would turn on another documentary.

Because you know. The others weren’t enough for the weekend, or anything.

I decided on Microcosmos for no reason other than I was seriously fucking tired of scrolling through the Netflix que. For those of you that do not know of it, this is a French documentary that utilized miniature cameras and specialized microphones to film bugs.

Insects. You get it? Fucking tiny little bugs. Spiders and flies and shit.

Here were my responses:

“Those caterpillars are complete morons.”

“Bees can seriously kiss my ass.”

“Jesus, could those snails suck face any harder? Need to get some Barry White up in there.”

“I think I have eaten one of those beetles on accident.”

“Hey look it’s like the 405 [freeway] only with bugs.”

“What’s so scary about those things is they’re fucking ugly.”

“That’s not a salamander, that’s an underwater dinosaur.”

“Wow look at that bird eat those ants… it’s like a trip to Hometown Buffet!”

“Is it weird this movie is making me hungry?”

So I highly recommend that you guys check out these movies. I’m not sure why. Probably because after all this poking fun and making random commentary I’m afraid of the legal ramifications by the filmmakers. Just kidding, I actually think you should watch them. If anything, for a good laugh.

Now here’s Snail Beauty, or as I like to call it Two Snails Get Busy.

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Mr. Man-Panties

Special thanks to my friend Jeremy for this one; my husband does cry as much as this lady does too, as he laments over what I will do next...

Special thanks to my friend Jeremy for this one; my husband does cry as much as this lady does too, as he laments over what I will do next…

I am in no way attempting to wage any mom-dad-husband-wife-bloggie wars here. In fact, I don’t really even know much about the blog that inspired this post: The Daddy Files. It would be terribly unfair for me to take a blog of his and pick it apart without knowing much about him, his intentions, and his blogging or writing style. So I won’t.

However someone shared with me his post today and – much like he preambles the man-pantie post of misogyny and insecurity with – I thought it my moral duty to at least address an important issue in the mom-dad-husband-wife blogging world: sexism.

Like I said, I find it terribly unfair for a blogger to take a blog or blogger s/he is unfamiliar with and pick everything apart (I’m looking at you, Daddy Files). But I would like to pay attention to one thing mentioned (perhaps in jest) when he took to task a fellow mom-blogger’s recent post over at Scary Mommy. Her’s was titled “10 Reasons Your Husband Is Just Another Child” and his response was titled “10 Reasons I Feel Bad for Your Husband.” You faithful blog followers are intelligent enough to assume where things went in the latter.

In the beginning, he says: “…all the man/dad bashing is so fashionable lately that letting it go unchecked seemed borderline irresponsible, so once again the dad blogosphere finds itself defending ourselves against idiotic, sexist and unfunny crap that litters the Internet.”

Woah there, sparky. Let’s settle down and not get our balls so twisted. There is a stark difference between making jokes, poking fun, or making light of the truth; and, acting idiotic and sexist.

I have posted many blogs about my husband. Some referred to them as “over the top;” others suggested that I was intentionally trying to emasculate him so as to assert control over him. One time my mother in law called my husband and asked if we were getting a divorce. I’ve poked fun at my husband, and all husbands – I’ve called men pigs (which many are); I’ve called him insensitive and misogynistic (which he is); and I’ve discussed all the horrific nuances of cleaning stubble out of a sink, crumbs off the kitchen counter, and urine off the back of the toilet.

And I shared with everyone the time I discovered the Pussy Master 3000 (an artificial vagina, I assume for masturbation purposes) in my husband’s drawer of miscellaneous crap.

PM3000

In response to these types of blogs, I get a wide range of responses, many of which are clearly penned by insecure men, unable to take jokes because their man-panties are so wedged up their assholes they can taste the fabric. Just a few days ago, some unbelievably pig-headed tightwad commented on an old blog of mine with the following: “Wow, must have been a heavy-flow day for you huh? Get your tampon out of your asshole.”

Now who’s being idiotic, sexist and unfunny?

The whole point, here, is that there are good things and bad things about living with a partner of the opposite sex. Even of the same sex. As for living with a man, it’s urine on the back of the toilet, too many ball scratches to make anyone comfortable, acting unappreciative when appreciation is greatly needed, gas at inopportune times and in a way that is completely irrespective to other people’s sensibilities (would an “excuse me” fucking kill you, Methane Man?), and bachelor-type behavior even when bachelorhood has been over for decades.

The only thing idiotic and sexist is expecting us to stay quiet about it. To omit (thereby lie) and act as though men are pristine gods, whose glistening ball sweat smells like roses and whose shit-stained underpants are yummy enough to roast up and serve with a side of asiago cheese bread, is just ludicrous. On the flip side, if my husband had a blog in which its focus was to talk about marriage and parenting, I would fully expect him to write about my period stains and the fact that this evening I flashed and jiggled my boobs for the complete strangers driving past our bedroom window, in the apartment parking lot (to be fair, I didn’t realize people would drive by as I joked about changing my clothes in front of an open window). It’s honesty. It’s reality. And it’s fucking hilarious.

It also reeks of something terribly narcissistic to just assume that everyone wants the same thing. Perhaps the mom-blogger that wrote that article about husbands being another child (which, case in point fact: many are) has a husband who can laugh a little at his own childish behavior, admit his faults as a human being, and fucking move on. Not everyone thinks the same, lives the same, laughs the same, loves the same, and expects the same out of a relationship. It doesn’t always have to turn into a reason to backlash with just as much sexism and misogyny as happened in the Dark Ages.

Unless, of course, the man who lashes out at such differences in experience wants to be a permanent Mr. Man-Panties. We all have at least one of these in our lives – a man that cannot take a joke; who thinks his bullshit is lined with 14-karat gold. I get comments from them all the time; the best was when a man told me I was “the most miserable cunt on the planet who just needs to die now” (that gem was for saying that women shouldn’t feel obligated to clean the house to a daily sparkle if they have physical limitations). There is a female equivalent, I’m sure. She probably gets uptight when people say “TMI” to her expression of cramps; or when people make jokes about living with a woman (of which there are many).

The point is this: I think as bloggers; but not just as bloggers, but as human beings, and as citizens of the 21st century – a time when we have a synthesis of traditional roles with a more liberal playing field when it comes to women and men having an equal voice – it’s time to lighten the fuck up. Can it with the “how sexist”s and “your poor husband/wife”s (unless, of course, there is some truly backwoods shit going on). Maybe instead of lashing out because a woman says that men act like children by leaving their leopard printed thongs on the floor in the bathroom, everybody should just chill the fuck out and retaliate with some kind-hearted jokes of their own.

And of course admit that your thong could be picked up, or the piss should be wiped off the side of the toilet. I’ll be the first to say that describing my daily period flow to my husband is about as disgusting as his eating an entire brick of cheese, followed by a King Sized Hershey bar is irresponsible. These things are funny, not idiotic. They’re honest, not a soap opera. Reality, not sexism.

Yes, that is my husband ... another thing he did for my blog. You can make your own meme of Maxi Pad Man at http://www.quickmeme.com/meme/3st15a/

Yes, that is my husband … another thing he did for my blog. You can make your own meme of Maxi Pad Man at http://www.quickmeme.com/meme/3st15a/

Top 6 Reasons Your Hubs Ain’t All That

Multiple times during the week, now, I am woken by some sort of tragic event going on in my bed. Sometimes it’s my husband spreading out like the entire California King is needed to fan all of his parts – pushing me to the small edge on my side of the bed. Other times he is punching me in the back as he flops from one side to the next. Last night, it was the covers. Around 3:15 AM, he – for some reason, in his sleep – pulled the entire comforter off of me and bunched it up in front of him, leaving me to freeze.

As I lay there, angry and desperately trying to get back to sleep, I composed a blog all about husbands in my head.

Top 6 Reasons Your Hubs

Ain’t All That

#6 Home Becomes Work Becomes Home

Perhaps it is a sign of the crippling economy, but it seems that men can no longer come home from work and hang up their hats, leaving work hanging there with it. Now, when the Big Daddy Breadwinner gets home, he has to talk about work, think about work, let work interrupt his evening activities, check emails from work, answer phone calls about work, allow work to disrupt him from getting his house stuff done, and go to bed with nothing but work on his mind.

I’m all for the general “how was your day at the office, dear?” conversation over dinner. What the hell else are you going to talk about? But there is that and then there is taking it too far.

The fundamental problem with this is your husband is allowing work and his job to define who he is, rather than what the real definition of him is:  a conglomerate of many different things, which includes father, husband, friend, son, etc; not just “employee.” Perhaps this is just a California thing, where it seems as though everyone lets their jobs completely dictate their lives, but the old adage should always be kept in mind to keep a healthy work/life balance: it’s just a job.

#5 The Identity Crisis

A while back, I wrote a blog called “Stop Being Such a P*s*y.” I will never forget the response of one man in particular, who said that men are in the midst of an identity crisis as a result of smothering mothers, the Feminist Movement, and people like me calling them p*s*i*s

Bull shit.

A man isn’t a man because of the identity that he holds, the masculinity that he asserts, and his oppression of women. He’s a man because he has a dick. Period, end of sentence. It’s what he does with that Big D, though, that makes him either a real man or a p*s*y. But this incessant whining that in the last few decades women have oppressed men by demanding equal rights; and that men need to reclaim their masculinity by putting women down is just stupid.

And furthermore, if a woman is upset about something a man does – even her husband – she has a right to say it, wherever she wants. This doesn’t cut at the man’s masculinity; it is honesty with the intention of fixing an unhealthy behavior. I’m so tired of people acting like saying how things are is a bad thing. Your husband ain’t all that if he can’t take a little honest criticism. If a man is acting like a jerk, he’s acting like a jerk. He won’t know to fix it if no one tells him.

#4 Honey, You Married My Parents

My in-laws are coming over for dinner next week and I am again reminded that my husband is really his father and tries – routinely – to treat me the way he has observed his mother treated.

There is a reason why psychologists say you need to set a good example for your kids:  they will inevitably believe that this is an acceptable way to treat their spouse. If he doesn’t want to hear it, my husband’s dad will simply ignore and not respond to my mother-in-law. One time she was sitting there and she just kept asking question after question after question, all of which were ignored. I’ve seen it happen on more than one occasion, and when I talked to my husband about it he said “yeah, well that’s what you do when your wife is blathering on, spewing her emotion everywhere.”

Indeed.

Your hubs is just as much his parents as my hubs is, and he ain’t all that because of it. How he handles it, though, does redeem him.

#3 Feeding Time At the Barnyard

It is astounding sometimes to see the way that my husband eats. Here’s how it goes: I spend about three to six hours preparing a delectable, healthy, and perfectly seasoned meal. I hate to cook, so this is a really big deal for me to do every day, day in and day out. Nick comes home and promptly takes his plate, smothers it in a complete layer of salt and pepper, then sits down to inhale the food – periodically slurping it up; only to be disrupted with guzzling and slurping down whatever he’s drinking to wash the pig slob down.

Sometimes I think about just installing a trough.

I see men eat like this all the time, and quite frankly it is horrifying. Whatever happened to the days when a husband put his napkin in his lap? When he waited and tasted the food before piling it with seasonings? The days when “boy Mom, this sure is a swell meal” came out of his mouth? The slang swell should clue you faithful blog followers into how long it’s been; nonetheless, your husband would be all that if he would adopt such slang himself.

#2 Bodily Functions & Personal Hygiene

Gross. Gross. Gross.

Since graduate school ended and I took to being home all the time, I have become evermore aware of the bodily functions and personal hygiene we have in this house. My husband and your husbands alike all ain’t all that simply because they are pigslobs.

They miss the toilet, every time.

They wear underwear with gaping holes in them.

Which also have stains in them (I just vomited).

They have a never-ending case of foot fungus.

And as if that is not enough, they top it all off by laying around and scratching their balls nonstop; emitting bodily sounds intermittently as if “excuse me” is foreign to their vocabulary. And then they deny it all when you mention it.

#1 He’s Competing With A Million Other “Best Husband In the Whole Entire World LOL OMG ! ! ! ! ! !”

 If you are like me, every day you check your Facebook and are inundated with all your friends – God love them – posting on their Facebook statuses all about how their husbands are their heroes, their everything, and THE BEST HUSBANDS IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD LOL OMG ! ! ! ! ! !

I wrote a blog about this a while ago too, although I think it was far too logical. The crux of my argument was that:  obviously, everyone can’t have the best husband in the world because there can be only one “best” of anything. Far too intellectual, but if I were to continue I would say that obviously no one can have the best husband in the world because there are none.

As a result of this, though, your hubs ain’t all that because he is competing in this post-modern age of Feminism and people like me calling them p*s*i*s with other husbands to outdo each other, and live up to this “best husband in the whole world LOL OMG ! ! ! ! ! ! ” standard. So he does one of two things: (1) tries to outdo other husbands and becomes completely effeminate in the process; getting his floral thong in a bunch every time you admit any of his faults thereafter; or, (2) decides he cannot win and so does absolutely nothing. Mine falls into the latter category, and I know the majority of his friends are pulling their pink thongs out their asses right now in rage over the fact that I said it.

I’d have to argue that those are the top 6 reasons why your hubs ain’t all that. There are obviously more, like mommy issues and my afore-mentioned sleeping traumas. Like I said, I’m sure a lot of my husband’s friends will read this and complain how can you tolerate her saying those things in her blog? Well, because it’s all true. My hubs ain’t all that. Neither is yours. Neither are you.

Things a Married Man Should Never Say…

…to his wife.

I’m sure this is going to be filed under the “reasons we hate Heather”-file as far as the in-laws are concerned (although I am fairly certain they don’t read this blog… they are far too busy listening to Hello Kitty Toaster tell stories about looking at herself in the mirror, or engorging themselves on cheesy EYEtalian food). This is likely because I won’t lie and say that at least half of the items on this “Things Married Men Should Never Say” list at one time or another didn’t come out of my husband’s mouth. Because they did. I mean, how else would I even have the basis for coming up with some of this shit? What, am I supposed to lie?

To be honest, I’m also out for revenge this morning. There are a lot of things I appreciate about my husband. For one, he puts up with my horrific cooking. He also remains married to me despite the fact that I hate the industry in which he works, mock his snobbery when it comes to music all the time, and make the gag-me face every time he suggests cooking (because his cooking is even worse than mine). My husband even attempts to have a sense of humor, despite the fact that he is generally very serious – since humor and satire, and laughing, are essential to my daily existence. What I do not appreciate about my husband, though, is that what comes with that seriousness is an uninhibited (yet unintentional) lack of care or concern for anyone’s feelings. He is so serious and removed from almost every situation (stolid and austere, you might say), that he has no idea when he says something that is more fucked up than the brother and sister I saw making out down the street from my father’s house the other day. (Yep…you heard me right – brother and sister; neighbors of my father and the chick used to be our babysitter…)

A lot of husbands are like this; in fact, it takes a long time for a man to learn to be emotionally present in any situation, especially a marriage. Unless your husband is naturally effeminate [insert long pause for insinuation], chances are at one time or another (probably many) he has said something that belongs on this list. That doesn’t make it OK, though.

Last night, my husband said one of those fucked up things. We were organizing my half of the closet – it was previously a disaster, now a masterpiece in organization, and I came across my wedding dress. Doubling the organization as also an opportunity to get rid of old things, we were bagging up old clothes I wanted to get rid of to lighten the load. I asked him what he thought we should do with the wedding dress and he responded “I don’t care.” I looked at him – absolutely horrified that he would say he didn’t care about preserving the dress I wore on the day we solidified our marital bond and he proceeded to insert his foot even further into his mouth with “What, Heather? Why should I care? I’m not the one who wore it.”

Sadly, he still doesn’t seem to understand why that hurt.

So the first thing on our list of Things a Married Man Should Never Say… to his wife is #1 “I don’t care what you do with your wedding dress, I’m not the one who wore it.” (…or anything from the wedding really, for that matter.)

#2 “Geez…what did you do to your hair? …it looks so … poofy.” If the words “you look beautiful” are not coming out in relation to your wife’s looks, you should just keep your yap shut. There is too much room for error and miscommunication, and if she’s like me she’ll sit around all day wondering why she looks so awful to you.

#3 “I don’t know any other women that do that.” It doesn’t matter, asshole. Your wife isn’t “other women.”

#4 “That’s something you should figure out.” Can we say abandonment? My husband said this to me recently about a class I was supposed to take that got canceled, and the first thing I thought was to call him since working out problems together is the principle function of marriage. Don’t do it, men!

#5  “I thought I was going to marry someone that had the same career goals as me.” Then why don’t you go marry her, jerk.

#6 “I’m just adding some salt and pepper because I know your cooking is usually pretty bland.” My husband has never said this, but he does automatically add salt and pepper to everything. Never have I been so offended as the time I spent four hours making butternut squash soup – seasoning it perfectly – and without even trying it, he piled tons of salt and pepper in it. I sat there staring at him, absolutely disgusted that he had done that and he just looked at me cluelessly and said “what?”

#7 “Long day? You look tired.” I get that this is an attempt to be nice, but it really isn’t.

#8 “You sound like your mother.” There are very few people in the world that would respond well to this. Nothing against your mom, but this is usually meant as an insult. Don’t do it, guys.

#9 “Your half of the check is …” Okay, every family manages money differently. Fair enough. But when out on Date Night, charging your wife for half the bill is wrong. Do you ever do nice things for your wife? Because chances are if you are tallying up her half of the bill for Friday night sushi, you don’t.

I can think of a whole host of these…but these are really the cream of the crop. Do yourself a favor, guys, and just don’t do it. You will save yourself a world of hard feelings and subsequent silent treatment. And if your wife is like me, keeping your yap shut will prevent a blog written about your horrible words too.

 

Momma’s Boy

This image was posted on Facebook by one of my friends.  It was a repost, so I cannot fault her too much for it – but as soon as I read it, I knew I would have to blog about it.  Clearly, this was written by some fifty or sixty year old woman, likely going through the emotions behind an impending empty nest.  Possibly her grown man of a son has not left the nest, though; maybe he just returned home after a bad breakup.  I imagine the son of this mother to be in his thirties.  Possibly employed, very probably still breastfeeding every night before padding off to bed in his jam-jams.

So what is my problem with this, you faithful blog followers might ask?  A lot.  When I read the line at the bottom and considered some of my own experiences in life, I realized that this is a terribly biased and wholly judgmental thing to assert – and it uses the veil of not judging as a way to do so.  Let’s examine its assertions:

His Mom says:  He loves his mom

His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He’s a momma’s boy   

As with all things, I believe there is a fine line between going overboard with anything and being reasonable.  A card and call on Mother’s Day and birthdays?  Probably a good idea.  Dropping everything and flying across the country, using money you don’t have to do so, to take your mom out for Mother’s Day brunch when you just lost your job?  Probably a momma’s boy.  Making a phone call to see how mom is doing once a week?  A nice gesture.  Calling every day and never moving more than fifty miles away from mommy so that you can continue to come suckle on her teet whenever she rings the teet bell?  Over the top.

A few years back, I was dating a guy that invited me to go out to brunch with him and his mother on Mother’s Day.  His brother was going as well and we were all going to have a nice time.  After a phone call with mommy, though, there was a sudden change of heart and I was left at home to go find myself some Quizno’s while mommy had her special time with her boys.  I wouldn’t have minded being left behind on Mother’s Day if only I hadn’t actually already been invited.  A few days before then, I had gone along with them when they bought her a gift card to buy new sheets for her bed – a $100 gift card I might add (that, combined with the expensive brunch, is more money than I have spent in all 29 Mother’s Days since I was born).  A few days after I was left behind while they went out to brunch, I was at lunch with her and a group of their family and friends (a “lady’s lunch”) and she spent the entire time complaining that my boyfriend and his brother had not done enough for her for Mother’s Day that year.  I almost vomited up my entire lady’s lunch at the sound of her ungratefulness, as well as the realization that I was dating what could unambiguously be coined:  a momma’s boy.

His Mom says:  He is nice to his friends

His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He’s a doormat

Some time ago I had a male friend that I saw get walked all over time and again by his friends.  His mom always said “oh … isn’t Matthew so nice to his friends,” and yet I sat back and watched him get screwed (literally) countless times.  One time a friend asked to borrow money – this being a friend that had showed himself to lie, not pay back debts, and who used cocaine.  Matthew didn’t want to loan him any money because he knew it would be used for drugs, but his mom convinced him otherwise with a simple “oh … Matthew, you were always so nice to your friends before you started hanging out with girls” (whatever that meant..).  So he loaned the friend some money and two days later the guy was arrested for possession of cocaine.  Matthew never saw his money again.  As in the case above, there is a fine line between being nice to your friends and being a push over.  Generally it’s when adult children have no boundaries with their parents that they also have a similar lack of boundaries with friends, as well as work.  All people – men and women – should set a line and never cross it – with anyone; although, mothers often no longer teach this boundary setting because then their kids will set boundaries on them as well.

 His Mom says:  He’s in between jobs

His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He’s a bum

Do I even need to justify this one with a response?  As with a lot of helicopter parents that do not teach their kids any kind of responsibility, as well as with the situations of men sitting in their parents’ basements playing video games rather than getting a job, the “he’s in between jobs” is simply excusing the fact that your son is unemployed (many times by no fault of his own, many other times by much fault..)  Just because a person calls something other than what it is, or is equivocal enough to leave room for excuses, does not change the reality of the situation.

 His Mom says:  He likes to have fun

His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He’s a drunk

There is a kid that lives next door to my father, that graduated from high school in May.  Every day he roams out of the house around noon in his robe, where he sits on the front porch drinking beer until his parents get home from work (did I mention he is only eighteen?).  He does not go to school.  He is not looking for a job.  Three or four nights a week he disappears around eight in the evening and comes home the next morning, often still drunk or high from the previous night’s events.  His mom says “he likes to have fun” and that he is just taking a year off to explore his options – on their dime.  Need I say more?

 His Mom says:  He has a healthy appetite

His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He’s a pig

At the end of that little inspirational picture that my friend posted on her Facebook page this morning (pictured above), it says that “…truth is likely somewhere in between.”  This is the one example of those “perspectives,” though, that I would actually agree is likely a matter of the truth (of more cases than not) being somewhere in the middle.  If someone eats excessively and has undiagnosed or untreated health problems, or spends more time sitting on the couch shoving hotdogs down his face than actually moving around, then chances are he’s closer to being a pig.  But if he is physically fit, has no untreated health problems, and just eats big meals, then he maybe does just have a healthy appetite.

One thing to remember, though, is that unhealthy eating habits always catch up with you eventually.  Excusing porking down six whopper-sized burgers as a “healthy appetite” because your son doesn’t gain weight quickly (right now) is never okay.

His Mom says:  He’s a good son 

  His Ex-Girlfriend says:  He was a terrible boyfriend 

The bottom line is that if the guy really does treat you borderline-assholish to cow-tow to mommy, if he isn’t just nice but lets himself get pushed around, if he spends all his time on the couch rather than looking for a job and paying his own bills, and is drunk most days before three o’clock in the afternoon – saying “he was a terrible boyfriend” is probably much more accurate than saying he is a good son.  Ultimately, what love does more than “accepts and doesn’t judge” is allow bias to completely blind a person from seeing what is really going on right in front of their eyes.  One of a mother’s principle responsibilities to her son is not to excuse his bad behaviors, or enable him to be irresponsible; it is to teach him to be able to go out in the world as an adult and make it on his own.  To form lasting relationships.  To have the street smarts to not get screwed over.  To have the economic smarts to make wise decisions and to do everything he can to stay gainfully employed.  To have the emotional understanding and morality to do what is not only fiscally responsible, but morally right.  It is to teach someone to be an upstanding citizen in the world, who can survive without still having to thrive on mom’s milk.  Before teaching people that a negative or less-than-nice perspective of someone’s son is a bad thing, consider how well-adjusted in life and relationships he is outside of his mother’s arms.

Five Things She Says That Really REALLY Mean Something Else

You know why I don’t buy Cosmopolitan, Maxim, Vogue, or any other gender-specific magazines?  Because they always have those obnoxious “when she says she means…” or “when he does he really wants to…” segments, which are so ridiculous and cliche I just want to puke all over the magazine in anger.  Sometimes those types of articles can be funny, but usually they play on cliched generalizations and cultural stereotypes about whatever group they are talking about.

Well, as a woman, I can tell you that a lot of that crap is nothing more than … well, crap.  Especially the ones in Maxim and on those ridiculous “for men” sites online.  It’s crap, crap, crap – just more things that men want women to mean when they say something (because it is no secret that when a woman says one things she usually means another).

Here’s a little diddy I like to call “Five Things She Says That Really REALLY Mean Something Else.”  Do I think this way when I say these five things?  Not usually, although on occasion (particularly in the case of #4) I have been known to think more along these lines.  There are a lot of women who do, though, and so I think we should just lay it out there and get over it.  As soon as we do, I’m sure life will be a lot easier for everyone.  Right?