Archive | June, 2008

Relationship Advice

11 Jun

In the name of this post, I’ll share the best advice I’ve adopted and heard in regards to relationships:

1. My own personal standard: “Never date a boy who can’t chop his own firewood.” This immediately eliminates all men too weak to swing an ax, too city-bred to believe there are anything but gas fireplaces, and essentially all men who regularly get manicures. In my book, fresh linen pants, fine jewelry and intense hair products are accessories to take on a Carnival cruise, not the accoutrements of a man.

2. From my mother: “The good things get worse, and the bad things, they just get worse too.” True of most friendships, relationships, parents, and every picture of me from high school. People don’t become more flexible with time – we shockingly become more rigid, more narrow-minded and more set in our ways. If the things you love about another are their jokes, their smarts and their hairline, you must prepare yourself to be sitting, 20 years from now, next to a balding man telling stupid, pointless jokes for the 357th time. When my boyfriend sits behind the wheel of a car, he turns from an ordinarily articulate man, into someone whose vocabulary ranges from FUCK to FUCKING ASSHOLE. Will this trait suddenly, if ever, improve? Hell no. It may be possible that his inability to function with other drivers on the road or in the vicinity will someday impair him such that he is unable to even get into the driver’s seat. This folks, is what I’m praying for.

3. From my boyfriend: “She’s like the participant ribbon of trophy wives.” If your lifelong dream is to gain a title in front of your name (rather than any letters following), forgo any and all job responsibilities for the remainder of your days and look forever young and hot while doing it, you should really talk to my mom. JUST KIDDING MOM. But yes, if this is in fact your life plan – live it up, do it right and bring a shred of honesty to it. The last thing you want is for someone who hears of you to determine that you bring nothing (no money, power, fame, spelling skills) to the relationship and yet be told that you are additionally, not trophy wife material. Lift the boobs, buy the red convertible and get in the gym, because if nothing else, you must redeem yourself through your looks.


Just waiting on the tsunami

9 Jun

When I was 15, our barn burnt to the ground in a blaze of glory. The scene was one from out of Backdraft, and when it was over, there was nothing left. Earlier this year, we had a chimney fire at our lake house, which destroyed a substantial part of the upstairs and roof areas. Nothing says fun like a northern Michigan spring break, coupled with a little house fire to top off the excitement. Back at home, we had an earthquake in April. Nothing serious, hardly any damage – just a little rattling which woke me up in the middle of the night. Then, to cover yet another natural disaster, God sent a flood to wipe out my dad’s office this weekend. Somehow, we missed the memo and failed to get our ark built in time.

 The office is outside the flood plain, and still had over 24 inches of water standing in the office and shop areas. Outside the flood plain also means no insurance, which translates into devastation and a really ticked off parent. So for now, we sit and wait, to see if ole GW will send us some federal fast cash for the cleanup. In the meantime, I might have to get my hands dirty and sandbag for the next rainstorm coming tonight.

There are many things to be thankful for, and certainly that no one has been injured in any of these small disasters is one of them. We’ll see just how strong my family, built by the steel business, will be this week.

Things to Ignore:

7 Jun

Any weather forecast. While attending a baseball game last night might have appeared to be a good idea based on the foresight of the weather forecast, we bore the brunt of thunderstorms from the second inning on. Given how awesome my hair looks when spattered with rain, I loved every single minute of the game. Nothing like “storms will be clearing until later in the weekend” to give you that false sense of security required for an outdoor event. An outdoor wedding weekend awaits us in two weeks (on the lovely, humid Ohio river no less), and I’m packing everything from my fanciest bathing suit to my most glamorous foul weather gear, just in case.


Things to Ignore:

2 Jun

Tract homes.

A billboard on the highway says, “Homes you can tell apart.” I sincerely like this ad tactic, but find it sad that it’s even necessary at all. When driving through a neighborhood featuring only five color schemes and three home designs, doesn’t it just scream, STREETS OF GOLD? Ah, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. How in the heck will tiny Johnny know his friendly yellow home from the exact same one down the street with the lovely meth lab in the kitchen?