If It's Not One Thing, It's My Mother: Cold Front

Wow! Just when I thought it couldn't get more bizarre on the other side of Cosmopolitan City, I had my mother tell me about her weekend. Yikes. Her story, like many others, shows how very, very hard men are to train. Properly.

Ward and June, tired from having moved into their new digs, decided to kick back and watch some telly. In true form, my technologically-challenged father, Ward, broke the television in the family room. According to my mother, the tuned-in and tormented June Cleaver-Blogshaw, Ward walked into the bedroom, stole the remote from her hot little hands and turned on a movie about war (zzzzzzz!) that he'd already seen. June asked him if he remembered that he'd already seen that movie and he said he did remember (the cheek!). June stormed out of the bedroom and was forced to re-watch Come Dance With Me (an old Richard Gere/J. Lo vehicle that no decent person should be forced to watch once, let alone twice). She was so pissed that she slept in the guest bedroom and didn't speak to Ward until the next day.

Ward, having perhaps clued in earlier, feigned ignorance the next day... June asked him if he knew why she'd slept in the guest room the night before (ahhhh, passive aggressive questioning - an oldie but a goodie!!!). Ward responded that he must have been snoring. Wrong! June asked him what he might have done the night before that would have pissed her off (passive-aggressive, indirect and hostile!). Ward, predictably, had no clue. June threw her hands up in despair and advised him to "f*ck off and die."

The moral of the story? There isn't one. This is simply an observation that, after 35 years of training, my father is just as clueless and my mother is just as harried as the were when they got married.

Dating Tips: 9 Things Happy Couples Talk About

According to a recent study published in Psychological Science (and reported by Yahoo.com - click on above link), there are 9 conversation topics that separate happy couples from bitter, warring couples. This is a relief, because G Spot and I actually talk about more than just 9 things and most of our exchanges are positive! The 9 comely convos are:

1. Embarrassing Moments I am happy to report that G Spot and I are able to discuss our embarrassing moments. Well, perhaps we spend a bit more time talking about my embarrassing episodes than his... I've told him about the ridiculous things I did in high school, the idiot moments of my early twenties, the idiot moments of my early thirties, the idiot moments of last week.....

2. Political Viewpoints Yes, we can talk about politics, but it isn't pretty... G Spot is more liberal and much more of a bleeding heart than I am. It may not be easy or without debate when we talk politics, but we can talk politics (just don't get us started on religion)...

3. Fears and Insecurities Yep, we talk about this, too. It turns out that we both have fears and insecurities. I'm finding this out now, because I never really bothered talking to boyfriends about this kind of stuff in the past. I didn't want to seem weak, and I suspect they didn't, either. So, instead of appearing weak, the relationships were weak and didn't last. Interesting...

4. Childhood G Spot has heard the stories and seen the pictures (I can't help it - I was so cute!!!). I know about his ninja, skateboarding and Wall Street phases and he knows about my skating, skateboarding and drunk-grunge-party girl phases and we're still together.

5. Past Relationships Yeah, this part's really no fun, but it has to be done. We are both aware of where we've been and who we've done. I do believe it's important to discuss the past in order to shed insight into how our experiences have shaped who we are in our current relationship. I have found that analyzing my past has enabled me to identify what is important to me now and, also importantly, what is not.

6. Family Life My family is crazy. His family is crazy. End of conversation.

7. Current Events He reads. I watch TMZ. He enlightens me on international goings on and I update him on the state of Brangelina's marriage, the Sandra and Jesse affair and the fact that Lindsay Lohan was spotted with white powder on her shoes... And he still loves me.

8. TV and Movies As mentioned above, the talking about the TV is my territory. In turn, he tells me about all the movies and documentaries he has seen, as that is more his scene. See? Yin and Yang.

9. The Future Yes, we've discussed it. We've pondered, questioned, trouble-shooted and forecasted. It's tricky territory and not for the faint-hearted, but neither are relationships!

Today's Funny

Men are like laxatives.
They irritate the crap out of you.

Men are like bananas.
The older they get, the less firm they are.

Men are like weather.
Nothing can be done to change them.

Men are like blenders.
You need one, but you're not quite sure why...

Men are like chocolate bars.
Sweet, smooth, & they usually head right for your hips.


Men are like department stores.
Their clothes are always 1/2 off!

Men are like government bonds.
.... They take soooooooo long to mature.

Men are like mascara.
They usually run at the first sign of emotion.

Men are like popcorn.
They satisfy you, but only for a little while.

Men are like snowstorms.
You never know when they're coming, how many
inches you'll get or how long it will last.

Men are like lava lamps.
Fun to look at, but not very bright.

Men are like parking spots.
All the good ones are taken, the rest are handicapped.

Your Cheatin' Heart

Seriously – what the eff is going on here??? I’ve never heard as much about cheating in my life as I have in the past few months. My first exposure to a cheating scandal was in my youth, when Price Charles famously two-timed Princess Diana with “the rottweiler” Camilla Parker-Bowles. As if that wasn’t shocking enough, then came Hugh Grant’s famous fellatio scenario with the lovely and demure Divine Brown.

News of wrecked romances dominate the headlines in Hollywood. The amount of cheating that’s been going on since the golden age of entertainment can’t possibly compare to the insane amount of philandering that’s happening now. Lately, we had the David Letterman scandal, followed closely by the Tiger Woods scandal. Aterwards, Jesse James. Now, Larry King. For f*ck’s sake, even Larry King can get it whenever he wants it. Jeez!

Now, I take issue with the convenient excuse of these cheeky cheaters suffering from “sex addiction.” Riiight. I do believe that it must be really hard for famous men to resist the temptation of hot, young girls (or even semi-hot, older women) throwing themselves in their direction. It must be tough. However, if it’s so easy to give in to temptation, then why are these guys getting married? Perhaps, if they are going to be surrounded by hotties all their lives, they should just go for it and forget about commitment. Even Hugh Hefner agrees and has been quoted as saying “...this whole idea that it’s a sex addiction is a cop-out.” When Hef’s not supporting that notion, you know it’s crap!

Let’s put this in terms that I can relate to. I will admit to having a weakness for, if not tall, dark & handsome men, then definitely, shopping. Let’s say that every time I left my house there were throngs of beautiful shoes, handbags and dresses waiting for me… I have a penchant for such things and would likely find it difficult to walk past the temptation all the time without eventually giving in. I’d be the best dressed b*tch on the block…

Ladies, do you think it’s possible for a man to be faithful throughout an entire relationship? If women like Princess Di, Elizabeth Hurley and Sandra Bullock can’t keep a man’s attention, can we?

Men, is it out of the realm of possibility to be faithful to a woman within a committed relationship for its entirety? Are these famous philanderers exceptions to commitment or is Tiger’s woody simply famous because it got caught?!

Out of sight, out of mind?

Nope! Look at us grow! Yep, my worldly lover, G Spot and I took a mini break together to the beautiful, exciting, expensive and expansive city of New York. The trip involved a lot of careful planning and itinerary-arranging on my part (apparently this is an area of great challenge for most men...), but it was well worth it. Knowing that we can travel together without incident (or insolence) is a nice lesson learned. Phew!

After our successful city tour, I continued on to a week long vacay with Ward and June at Shady Pines in Sunny Southern State. It was a fabulous and much needed vacation, especially considering the copious amount of careful planning and itinerary-arranging that I had been up to for weeks before... Now, G Spot and I have been separated by vacations before, but this time was really tough. After a few days of soaking up the sun by the pool and checking out the sad state of silver foxes driving bright red, convertible Mercedes while checking out their neighbours daughters (ew!), the pangs of absence became pronounced. Things worsened throughout the remainder of the trip. By the last day, although the thought of having to leave to go back to real life was dissatisfactory the thought of not being able to connect with my G Spot for another day (I know, I know!!!), was too much to bear.

Contrary to many of my past dating experiences, I was actually looking forward to seeing G Spot when I returned. We had a nice reunion at the really romantic airport terminal (where I was sweating like a whore at customs trying to smuggle all my vacay loot into Cosmopolitan City) and great sex afterwards, proving that not only does absence make the heart grow fonder, but abstinence makes the heart grow fonder, too!

Over or Under? How do you roll???

You know what? Who really cares as long as someone actually does change the freaking effing goddamn roll after they've finished with it???!!! Nothing says "I care deeply about you" by leaving one to drip dry while the replacement roll is stored in the secretive and sneaky hiding spot of under the bathroom sink... Jeez!

This post is dedicated to my favourite lover, G Spot. My prized personal pleasure center and I have reached the stage in our relationship where we are trying to determine our compatability along the dimensions of being able to stand each other long term. We seem to score high on important dimensions such as shared goals, desires and core values. We have low scores along beliefs in life after death, the use of psychics to provide guidance in our lives and that men are able to accomplish necessary tasks as well as women. They can't. They just bloody well can't.

Like most couples, we differ on a few dimensions that are domestic in nature. Actually, we seem to differ on most dimensions that are domestic in nature... Such as, you ask? Well, besides the dreaded non-replacement of the loo roll, there is also:

* Unruly manhandling of the washroom handtowels. This was the first domestic directive that I had to issue, but so far so good. Now, they lay on the towel rack disheveled, but not totally bedraggled. That's progress.

* The throwing of my beautiful tufted silk coverlet from Madly Expensive Home Decor Store on the floor with reckless abandon, but it's done in the name of mad, passionate sex, so I therefore excuse it.

* The hiding of empty containers in the fridge. Isn't it cute when men finish the milk and then put the empty carton back in the fridge and then complain when there is no milk? Isn't it cute when they do that with the orange juice, too?? And the sugar free Kool Aid that is really meant for my enjoyment???

Today's lesson? Over. Under. Upside down. Rightside up. I'm not fussy. Just bloody well change the damn thing at the right time and we can continue to live our lives as we have come to know them. That, men, is the recipe for domestic bliss on all dimensions!

If It's Not One Thing, It's My Mother: Back Off!

JE-SUS! I had the opportunity to spend an afternoon with my mother, the lovely yet painfully direct and therefore hurtful, June Cleaver-Blogshaw. It was very, very nice of my mother to take me to the hospital to endure a painful medical procedure. It was not nice of her, however, to verbally and emotionally abuse me afterwards...

Having returned to her condo and in intense pain, I took some time to have a rest. After a few minutes, I was beckoned by everyone's favourite mercenary matriarch:

June Cleaver-Blogshaw: "Carrie, can you bring me my Coke?"
(contrary to what everyone might think, she meant her glass of Coke, and not a line of coke, but I can plainly see how her demand could be misconstrued...)
Carrie Blogshaw: "I'll be right there..." (when my head stops pounding and I can heave myself off this oasis of a couch...)
June: "But fill it up with a new Coke from the fridge first - I don't like it to be flat"
Carrie: ~ sigh ~

After delivering Her Highness's libation of choice, she announced that the date had been set for my brother, the provocative planner, Beavis Blogshaw's, wedding. The great news? They chose my birthday weekend. Fabulous. Not only will I have to participate in the wedding and be judged by friends and family alike (while wearing a ridiculous and unflattering meringe-like dress), I will have to suffer through the ordeal on my birthday weekend. Yep, of all the weekends in that whole month, they chose to plan their nuptuals on my big day. This is so 'Sixteen Candles'... To top it all off, as one of my smart single gal pals reminded me this evening, my birthday will coincide with their anniversary for the rest of my life. Great - I'll be overshadowed for eternity!

I mentioned to June that it would be the weekend of a milestone birthday for me. She said she knew, but what could she do? I asked if she had mentioned to them (my bro lacks the capacity to remember anniversaries, birthdays and other important dates - an affliction that most men suffer from) that it would be an important weekend for me and if they could choose another of the 4 weekends available to them in that month. The curt conversation went something like this:

Carrie: "Did you mention that it is my birthday weekend?"
June: "No"
Carrie: "Why not?"
June: "Beavis's wedding is more important than your birthday. Weddings trump birthdays."

That ended the conversation.

The moral of the story? I would like to inform you all that I am no longer scared of getting married. Instead, I am greatly anticipating it. In fact, I am planning it right now. All I know so far is that it will be HUGE, both my bro and his fiancee will be in it and it will fall on the day of either my mother or my brother's birthday!!!