north korea, rectal kicks, and keira knightley’s poor boobies

26 08 2009

I guess it’s  time to change my “wedding philes” category into a “marriage philes” category.  Actually, it’s kinda lame to have either because, despite my lofty intentions, I’ve come to realize that what I know about planning a wedding OR about marriage in general wouldn’t even fill  Keira Knightley’s bra cup.

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That being said, I feel the urge to offer up another sterling piece of advice rant to newlyweds, engaged couples, dentists, circus folk,  or anyone else who takes a mind to read this drivel.  Consider this your warning, because no one sure as hell warned me.

I’m talking about Sleeping With Your Significant Other.  And not sexy times either.  Actual drooling on your pillowcase-type unconciousness, right?

The hubster and I pretty much started having sleeping issues the first week of marriage.  I am a definite “stay on my own side, don’t you dare invade my little piece of  mattress” chica.  I am the North Korea of sleeping partners.

The hubster, on the other hand, spreads himself out like butter on bread.  That is, when he’s not flailing all over the place like a large trout, whipping his arms around as if conducting some sort of spastic orchestra.  Inevitabley, he ends up elbowing me in the head or, on one memorable occasion, kneeing me in the rectum.

But don’t feel too bad for me, my little tots, because apparently I am a mild-mannered “secretary/quasi-writer” by day and a flipping prize fighter by night.  Oh yes, I come right back at him with all the rage of a semi coherent bull elephant.

Last night, for example,  I went to bed before the hubster did (When Madden NFL 10 calls, he must answer).  One thing you should probably know is that I truly covet the hubster’s pillow.  True, when we bought said pillow it was originally meant for me, but I didn’t really feel its super-squishy comfort value until the hubster had already claimed it as his own.  You know what they say, ya don’t know what ya got till it’s gone.

Anypillowjealousy, I made haste to bogart the pillow of wonders before he came to bed.

In the morning, the hubster told me that when he finally came in to go to sleep, he tried to at least cuddle up next to me so he could share the pillow.  As I have stated before, my side of the bed is a strict no fly zone.  According to the hubster, I began throttling him with his own pillow and, when his fluffy beating was over, I muttered, “This isn’t over.”  And promptly fell back to sleep.

I have zero recollection of any of this occurring.

Dude, who effing says that to their spouse in the middle of the night?  Me.  That’s who.  I have to admit, it’s a little deranged, even for yours truly.

So there you have it.  If you have any fun stories about sleeping with your he pal or she pal, please share.  Or if you just want to tell me what a psycho I am, that’s okay too.

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the wedding philes: premarital counseling

24 03 2009

lucy-psychiatrist

So The Specialist (my fiance was in the Army) and I had our first premarital counseling session this past week.

Now, even if you’re not getting married in a house of God (you heathenish tot!), I would still recommend having a sit down with a family counselor,  psychiatrist, voodoo priestess, whatever, before the big day cometh.  Like so many horses of the Apocalypse…

Why?  Because it’s pure comedy, my friend.

There’s a few things you need to know before experiencing the masochistic joy of premarital counseling:

1.  Be prepared to talk.  Alot.  Even if you don’t want to.  Even if you’ve physically stapled your lips shut prior to the appointment, something will get you to talk.  And if you’re a female, you will talk, and talk, and talk, and talk.  Because you’ll be utterly convinced that this person sitting behind the mahogany desk is fully qualified to totally fix the relationship that, prior to walking into the office, you didn’t realize was broken.

2.  Your guy will look like the proverbial deer in the headlights for most of the session.  He will restrict his answers to one syllable words, much like a Neanderthal.  “This make Bob feel bad.”

3.  Even though you’re the one who vented, and he’s the one who stubbornly remained tight-lipped, you’re gonna walk out of there feeling like everything is your fault.  That’s right, your relationship is crap piled on poop and you’re queen of the hill.

4.  Thank goodness for step 4!  Because that brings you to the second session.  Yep, you ARE sadistic enough to actually put yourself through all of that again.  You will have to bribe him to go, of course, but you have to bribe him to do most stuff so it’s no biggie.  The second session is the complete opposite of the first.  You enter the office in full-on whipped puppy mode.  And that’s good, because when your guy sees that you’ve learned a little humility, he starts to open up.  And magically, progress is made.

5.  Your relationship goes from great to amazing, and you realize that in the midst of the chaos of planning your wedding, you momentarily forgot the actual marriage—you know, that thing that starts the day after the ceremony?

Counseling helped me to reprioritize my, well, priorities.  It made me pause to really look at my habits, my shortcomings, and how those might influence the way I interact with The Specialist (he wasn’t totally let off the hook either).   But we also talked about how we really do compliment each other, and ways we can work better as a team.

In closing, you don’t need to feel like your relationship is precariously close to the edge before you go to counseling.  It’s just a healthy thing to try—making sure that you’re doing everything you can to start out your life together on the right foot.

And do the world a favor and film the sessions for a possible sitcom.