The Man-Child

If I've said it once, I've said it a million times, MEN ARE BIG BABIES. There is a clip on You Tube called, "The Man Cold". I highly recommend it. My God, my husband literally limps when he has a head cold.

Anyway, I'm not going to get into that whole song and dance today. This is my new gripe. OK, my husband, Jason, is the worst bed buddy. I mean that in the literal sense, not figuratively. He is. Hands down. Thee. WORST. PERSON. TO SLEEP. WITH!

Here's Jason's sleepy-time routine:

Kick legs
sigh every 2 minutes
clear his throat every 25 seconds
kick legs
roll over
sigh
snores
breath through his mouth
choke on his dry throat

.....this will go on for hours and hours.... It's maddening. So, finally, he's going to a sleep clinic this week (HOORAY)!! He had to fill out tons of paper work before his appt. and the instructions said to have his sleep partner answer some of the questions, pertaining to his sleep habits. That would be me. I was happy to put my 2 cents in, as I'm often prone to do. Here's how that conversation went down.

Jason: When's my birthday

Me: Feb. 4th

Jason: Was I born in 73 or 74?

Me: 74....seriously?

Jason: Have I ever been hospitalized?

Me: Don't you think you'd remember if you'd been hospitalized?

Jason: Did I snore as a child?

Me: (sigh) We didn't know each other as children.

Jason: Do I snore now?

Me: (I just stare blankly at him)

Jason: I'll take that as a yes

Jason: Do I drink frequently, moderately or rarely?

Me: frequently

Jason: Does my drinking ever bother my partner

Me: Yes

Jason: I'm not putting that down

Me: THEN DON'T ASK ME!!!!

Jason: 'K, Do I ever fall asleep after lunch

Me: I wouldn't know. We rarely have lunch together.

Jason: Well, that one weekend, remember I laid down with Gabe and took a nap?

Me: Pretty sure that's not what they mean

Jason: What's post nasal drip?

Me: a runny nose....My God, what part of 'nasal drip' escaped you?

Jason: What does 'wakefulness' mean?

Me: Um. When you're awake

Jason: Are you sure it doesn't mean 'unable to sleep'

Me: yes

Jason: what if it does?

Me: That would be insomnia. See Wake-Ful-Ness simply means being awake. (roll eyes)

Jason: Oh.

Jason: Do I ever fall asleep after a meal without alcohol consumption?

Me: I don't know, I've never seen you eat a meal without consuming alcohol along with it.

Jason: I'm not putting that down

Me: Then I'll call the clinic myself and give them my version. Who are they gonna believe? The drunken husband or his wife?

Jason: Good night.

Good Lord, it's like he's 5. I love the man, I do. But, he's a Man-child. It's times like this when I'd like to put a pillow over of his face.

I'd also like to point out two other instances when he resorts to his man-child self.

• When I'm cooking. He hovers over me....."Ewwwwe---what's that? I don't like that. Ughhhh...Leslie, what's thaaaaat...you know I don't like balsamic vinegar, it smells like feet. Ohhhh, I don't think I like onions, do I? Oh, I'm not going to like this. Can I just have 2 bites and if I don't like it can I have something else?"

• When we're shopping for new school clothes for him. (They're really for work, but school clothes sounds cuter). I pull out arm loads of clothes for him to try on for me. He shuffles around the store getting distracted by shiny objects. He begrudgingly tries on the clothes. He comes out of the dressing room to show me his ensemble. He shoves his hands in his pockets, slouches his shoulders, acts stiff and uncomfortable, he squirms and tells me it's too tight. We leave everything in the dressing room, go get him a Shamrock shake and attempt another shopping spree in 6 months.

Peeps I Hate: Vol. II

Here's the portion of the show where I vehemently spew my strong dislike for certain people. I'm fairly certain I'll have Volume 3 composed in my head by the time I post this. I'm always on the lookout for new peeps to add to my list. Pretty much, if I'm out in public, I'll inevitably find someone to add to my infamous list. I'm not overly critical, I'm just hyper-aware of common courtesy and basic sociology.

1. I firmly believe that people who don't use proper grammar should be arrested.

2. I hate the person at the check out counter who acts annoyed that I'm needing to be rung up. I was at a store yesterday buying my husband some golf shirts. (he doesn't really golf much, but God bless 'em for wanting to look the part). So, I got to the counter, plopped my merchandise in front of her and said, 'hello'. She couldn't possibly bother to look at me. She was waaayyy to busy sorting dollar bills and ignoring me. Finally she looks up and give me the most exasperated "hi" she could possibly manage. It literally pained her to acknowledge me. I'm looking around like, "I'm sorry, am I at your house right now...or am I at the store in which you are EMPLOYED?" After she's finished organizing all of her pens so that they are facing North, she finally gets to my purchase. Why, thank you, kind lady. Thank you for taking the time out of your obviously verrrrry busy day to ring me up. I have no tolerance for this because, well, we're all aware of the rate of unemployment right now. I feel that if you are lucky enough to have a paycheck, no matter how big or small, you should be grateful and that you should do your job with pride because if you don't, guess what? There's probably 200 people who will.

3. I hate the person whom I will refer to as the "coupon Nazi". I'm not embarrassed to admit that if I have a coupon for something that I regularly buy, I'm not afraid to use it. I'm not above saving a few bucks. Not in this economy. Crumbs make a cake, I always say. Every little bit helps. My husband, Jason might argue with this statement. He'd prefer that I not buy it at all, rather than come home and reveal my gorgeous new shoes that I bought at 20% off. He likes to say, "quit saving me money, you're breaking me". Then, I will pat him on the head and prance off in my pretty, new shoes. Ok, but-uh-back to the lecture at hand. The Coupon Nazi. Ooooh, how I hate this person. I shake my fist at her. I'll paint a picture, as I'm known to do. I'm in line. I'm unloading hundreds of dollars worth of groceries at the store where I spend at least $1,000 a month. I'm not a crazy coupon lady or anything, but surely I enjoy saving a few bones here and there. I have 2 little boys who are usually horrendous in the grocery store and often risk being abandoned at the courtesy counter. So, suffice it to say, I'm pretty spent by the time I get to paying for my items. So, the cashier is finally done bagging my groceries and I hand her my coupons. She goes through them with a fine tooth comb, like her life depends on whether she's going to give me the discount. Like she gets a bonus at the end of the day for denying a $.50 off coupon. "Nope, this one expired an hour ago. Nope, this one says you had to buy two. Sorry, this one says you have to be blond"...... I usually lose my patience at this point and yank my measly coupons out of her fat hands. Ooooh, she makes me so mad.

4. Parents who allow their children to act like assholes without reprimanding them. I'll just leave it at that.

5. People who show up to an event with their 4 or 5 kids and bring a 2 liter of pop to pass. Wow. Thanks for your contribution. Between the first liter and the 2nd liter, we should be all set. I can see where an appetizer or a dessert would have seemed excessive.

6. Stage Mothers. Why are pageant mothers always so fat and ugly? Well, the answer apparently lies within the question. They're most likely living vicariously through their children. And what's up with the whorish looking toddlers? Creepy! They always have their disgusting trailer trashy mother in the audience performing the routine right along with them. I hate to be crass, but we all know what happened to poor little JonBenet and then later, to Patsy. That situation alone would have steered me clear from the world of pageantry.

7. People who think Red Lobster & Olive Garden are fine dining.

8. People who give bad massages. I regularly get massages, what with my scoliosis and all... nevertheless, I pay to have therapeutic massages and when the masseuse meets me in the lobby and shakes my hand with a limp handshake, I know I'm in for at least an hour of hell. I always start out by telling her that I want a deep tissue massage and not to be afraid to hurt me. That statement alone should suffice, but no.... because sure as shit, 15 minutes later, she's rubbing my skin in tiny little circles, while I'm face-down and seething. I will often interrupt the massage and politely tell her that I'd like more pressure. They always agree and whisper, "ok". But damned if her mutant hands work any harder. There's nothing worse than a bad massage. Nothing, I tell you! Nothing! What part of "HURT ME" escaped you? When my neck & shoulders ache the way mine do, a light rub down is about as effective as a band-aid on an amputation. I don't like anything done lightly. I'm a physical person, hence my request for a deep tissue massage. I don't like being hugged lightly (don't give me that pat-pat crap). I don't like being peck kissed (lean me back and lay one on me). I don't like any sort of unnecessary nudging. Just roll up your sleeves and dig your thumbs in, like I'm paying you to do. One time, I had a massage where the masseuse had a trache. You know...the hole in her throat. I kid you not. She had to stop the massage every few minutes to wipe off the trache, where her saliva was accumulating. Between the fear of spit dripping on the back of my head, coupled with her robot voice, that might have been the most tense massage I'd ever had.

9. People who use Facebook as a platform to brag about themselves. This is a new observation of mine that keeps me up at night. I fantasize about composing scathing emails to these people. Of course, I feel it's my personal obligation to put them in their place and knock them down a peg or two. There's this chick on facebook who updates her status several times a day (lame). Her more recent status read, "my husband came home early and found me cleaning....he said, "doesn't the cleaning lady come on Friday" and I said 'honey, I clean EVERY DAY'.....men!!!" First of all, what a trite, tired and overall STUPID thing to write on a status. We all know men are unobservant and semi-retarded--this isn't new. But mostly, you just KNOW she was trying to angle in any opportunity to let the world know that she has a cleaning lady. What a tool. Rather than being impressed that you have a cleaning lady (uh, and by the way, ...who doesn't), I'm annoyed that you feel you have to let us know you have one---because you made a point to mention it, I immediately doubt you even have one. You probably have your elderly grandmother come over and tidy up once a week and you call it your "cleaning lady". Oh, you're soooooooo damned fancy!!!! Grrrrr!!! Well, I'm off to count my money in my Range Rover, while wearing a Chanel suit.

10. I can't think of another one because #9 has me so flustered.

Comedy show

Well, I plug my blog on Facebook, so now I'm going to plug a certain comedy show on my blog. Some of you may already know, but in Fall '08, I began writing scripts for a comedy sketch show in Grand Rapids, MI.

Some of my filthy and inappropriate work can be found at the following links. You will be dazzled by some of the talent here in Grand Rapids. The actors that I work with are spectacular. I'm proud to be affliated with such gifted individuals.

I love being behind the scenes.... I had no idea what went into a TV show. A lot, as it turns out. So tune in. You just might see an upcoming sketch which stars yours truly.

www.vimeo.com/4116430
www.vimeo.com/4124546

FACEBOOKING

Facebook is so interesting. It is the epitome of fantasy becoming reality. Simply put, it's manipulated life. You create, manage and only reveal what you want revealed. Brilliant. No wonder it's so addicting. It can make the loneliest people feel popular, the ugliest people feel pretty, the saddest people seem happy, the most peculiar people seem normal, etc.

I recently posted a picture of my boys and me. An old friend wrote to me that "I looked happy". I wondered how he came to that conclusion. Why? Because I'm smiling in a picture with my kids? Wow. What a super sleuth he was! A real Sherlock Holmes. Then I got to thinking (you know.....) how funny would it be if I only posted sad pictures of myself.

Picture #1. me, crying

Picture #2 Jason & me sitting at the kitchen table doing bills, clutching our unpaid bills in despair

Picture #3. me, laying in bed with the flu

Picture #4. me, standing sadly in front of a full length mirror, in my undies, while Jason looks on, disgusted.

Picture #5. me, at the mailbox, reading another rejection letter

Picture #6. me, starring sadly out the window at my children playing while I sit, crumpled in a wheelchair.

How frigging funny is that? As an experiment, I think I might tackle this challenge. I'm going to attempt to have the most pathetic facebook profile ever. My status will read like this, "Leslie is having to face another hopeless day" or "Leslie is getting ready for bed. With any luck, I'll be spared from having to endure tomorrow". I'll start my own acronyms. Instead of LOL, I'll type SMW (slitting my wrists). I'll have to write on my own wall because clearly, I won't have any friends. I'll post inspirational messages to myself. "Leslie, despite what your mother tells you, you are good enough".

This is why FB is so great. You can reinvent yourself to be whoever you want to be. The bottom line is that we're all so very narcissistic. We think people actually care what we're thinking, what our view are or how we scored on a "which muppet are you" quiz. We'll only post pictures that we feel flatter us. Oh, how I loathe my girlfriends who post terrible pictures of me without my consent...because, I'm vain....I'll admit it.

Or---I'll derail here for a minute. What about the people who update their status' every 1/2 hour? Susie is awake and ready to start her day. (wow. riveting.) Susie is staring at 14 loads of laundry that need to be put away. (here's a thought Susie, tear yourself away from the computer and do your laundry). Susie is excited for a new episode of Lost (Susie, you're a loser). Susie hopes her husband remembers to bring home milk (Or, perhaps, Susie, you could have gotten off your lazy ass and gotten it yourself). Susie is counting the days until her trip to Spain (....really? And I can't wait for Susie to stop referring to herself in 3rd person). Susie is...are you??? (Susie, you are just too darn clever--too. darn. clever.) Susie is making chicken enchiladas for dinner...yummmmm (Susie, I swear, I will chain you to a pipe in the basement...)