Marriage has helped me become more vulnerable. To be precise, I've completely passed over the vulnerability stage and into the uncharted realm of obscenity. Mom will be so proud.
Me: "I'm embarrassed... I am getting a huge zit."
Darin: "That's okay, I get 'em all the time. We can be Pimple Pals."
I would further this thread if I was assured that only females read this blog, but as many of my readers are friends of the male species (I love yins) and gross old men with a taste for saucy brunettes (stop calling me), my hands are tied. Moving on...
I don't really care what any other human being thinks of me except my husband. He is the only one who has ever heard the ridiculous phrase, "Do I look fat?" pass through my lips. Only he has to reassure me that I am attractive, intelligent, unique, and amusing. I just assume that everyone else feels the same way; if they don't, I'll make sure to forget the fact.
Speaking of fat nudity, Darin set up a massage appointment for me tomorrow morning!
*grateful bow*
I have never received a professional massage before. All previous massages have been from loving amateurs:
My brother Dave- "This is a good one, Chew. I call this... THE DEATH GRIP!!!" I cry.
Megen- "Lou, you're soooo tense!" She repeats this phrase throughout the massage, defeating its purpose.
Erica- "Schmeeeeeez... [insert little made-up song]"
Indignant Darin- "Two minutes is more than enough!"
Mona- A ten-minute hand massage to prep me for a tough night of paper writing.
Mandy- "Walking on the back is good for you!"
Justin- "Are you sure Darin won't come in?"
That androgynous hobo on the bus- I don't want to talk about it.
Although I am entering into a new stage in life's twisting journey, please know that I will not reject you, nor your offers to manipulate my tissues. Until then.
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5 comments:
you should have told me about your history with inadequate massages, I kick butt!
that is, if I want to get near that zit of yours.
Mel, I should make use of your services. It's not that the others were inadequate... they're just not paid to do it.
Androgynous hobos are weird, man.
Awwww... thanks, guys.
*warm fuzzies*
I resent being called an androgynous hobo.
I just don’t want Darin to know that you give me pedicures, gees Louise. BTW, are we still on for Tuesday? The polish is chipping and my bunions are killen me. Did we use up all of your peroxide last time? Let me know and I’ll pick some up on my way over. Oh yah, and it’s your turn to make the white Russians this time so if you are going to drink 6 of em again then I suggest you buy more vodka. See ya on the flip.
-Caw!
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