The devil went down to Georgia

24 hours to go...

By this time tomorrow, I will be in Atlanta to enjoy four whole days of doing nothing but hanging out with my good friend Robb. I was going to make a list of all the things I wanted to do while I'm down there, but I'm lazy, and the whole point of getting away is so that I don't have to do any thinking for a few days. So I'm soliciting suggestions from everyone - what would would you do if you had four days to spend in Atlanta, a good friend to hang with, and a wad of cash?

I'll get the list started:

1. Meet a new friend for dinner at Spondivits
2. Catch a shoe show
3. Drink heavily (yes, I know this is a given but I needed at least 3 ideas of my own!)
4. ???

The best suggestions will be added to my official "to-do" list. Bonus points will be awarded for creativity!!

Things I've gotten away with #1

Inspired by Vixen's post asking about what crazy things you got away with when you were young, I was inspired to tell this story of adolescent behavior. This is going to be a long one, but a good one (if I had a dollar for every time I had to someone that...)

It's freshman year in high school, and me and my buddy Matt decide to sneak out and go see our girlfriends in the middle of the night. And in true high school style, we decide we should get our drink on first, so we each down a giant "littla" - you know, a little of this, a little of that, so hopefully the parents won't notice that the levels of every bottle in the liquor cabinet has gone down a little. Thank god my parents never really drank, or they might have noticed that every weekend every bottle got a little bit emptier.

So having a buzz going, we were ready to go, except for one minor detail: we didn't have a car (or even learner's permits) to drive, and the women were about 5 miles away. But we did have bicycles. Obviously, we were drunker than we thought, because it seemed like a perfectly good idea to get on our 10-speeds and pedal over to the girls house. On public streets. drunk. Looking back now, there are so many ways we could have gotten caught, or gotten ourselves hurt or killed. But you just don't think about these things when you're 15 and hopped up on scotch, bourbon, rum, sake, gin and cokes!

We get to the house, and I throw rocks at my girlfriend's window - which of course is on the top level of a three-level townhouse. And since we're trying not to wake up her parents, the only way to get into her bedroom is to climb a tree up to the third floor and then into her bedroom. I was never that good at climbing trees, especially while drunk, so let's just say this was not easy or fun, and the branch at the top we had to climb on to actually get through the window didn't feel very sturdy...

But we both finally make it into the room without falling to our deaths or waking anyone up, and after some idle chit-chat we both start making out with our girlfriends. Now I don't know if it was just the awkwardness of having two couples in the same room, or if it really was, as the ladies told us, "that time of the month" for both of them, but it quickly became apparent that there wasn't going to be anything more than some kissing and groping, and my girlfriend knew her dad would be getting up soon (it was 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning by then), so everyone agreed that maybe we should go. My buddy loses the coin toss and gets to go out the window first.

Everything is going fine for the first few feet, but then he loses his grip and proceeds to fall two and a half floors, and lands on the gas grill and some potted plants. While these did break Matt's fall, he also broke a few of the pots, knocked over the grill, and made a hell of a lot of noise. Lights start coming on all over the house, and my girlfriend throws me out of her room and pushes me down the stairs to her older brother's room, who lives on the ground floor. He must have been used to this drill, because he meets me in the hallway, throws me into his closet, and gives me the single finger to the lip, accompanied by one of the angriest stares I've ever seen - the universal sign for "Shut the fuck up and don't make a sound or I will kill you!"

So now the parents are awake, walking around trying to figure out what the noise was. My girlfriend, always the quick thinker, said that it was thunder. I don't even know if it had been raining that night, but I'm praying her parents believe the cover story. Her dad comes downstairs and knocks on her brother's door:

Dad: "Did you hear anything?"
Brother: "It was raining pretty hard a while ago"
Dad: "Raining, huh?"
Brother: "Yup - raining"

I'm not sure whether her dad really believes the rain and thunder explantion, but he goes back upstairs. I'm relieved that I didn't get busted, but I'm getting scared of what her brother is going to do to me. Another five minutes go by and I'm really starting to freak out in the dark closet. Then the closet door opens, and her brother is in my face: "My dad's in the shower so you've got 5 minutes to get the hell out of here. And if I ever see you around here again, it's your ass!"

My momma didn't raise no dummy, so I'm out of there. I get out of the back yard, and there's Matt at the end of the street laughing his ass off. I wasn't in such a good mood, so with our buzzes wearing off and the realization that we were both going to have to get up in a few hours and go to school sinking in, we pedal our way home, again miraculously avoiding local law enforcement. It's amazing how empty roads are at 4:00 in the morning during the week.

So that's the first story of something crazy I got away with when I was young. There will be more to follow...

Jump into the water

Friday night I got to see one of my favorite local bands, Emmet Swimming, at the 9:30 club in D.C. Emmet hasn't played a show in almost a year, and I haven't caught them in probably five years, so this was very cool. Plus I got to hang out with a good friend who I haven't seen anywhere near enough lately. They played for over two hours, and even though I didn't get home until 4:00 in the morning, it was soo worth it!

Next stop - Atlanta in three days!!!

Pray for the Big Easy

My thoughts are with everyone in and around New Orleans riding out Hurricane Katrina. The Big Easy holds a special place in my heart - I even spent my honeymoon there - and the thought of the Crescent City being devastated by the forces of nature is really getting me down this morning. So I pray for the safety of the great city of New Orleans, its people, and everyone else dealing with a pissed-off Mother Nature.

Thought for the day - August 25th, 2005

Today marks the third straight week I've worked out at least 4 days a week - 5 days if you count my Sunday treadmilling. So I thought this quote was particularly relevant:

"Having once decided to achieve a certain task, achieve it at all costs of tedium and distaste. The gain in self-confidence of having accomplished a tiresome labor is immense." -- Thomas Arnold Bennett

I have no idea who Thomas Arnold Bennett is or was, but I liked that quote, because I have felt a gain in my self-confidence after three weeks of working out (and frankly I needed it!), so I can only wait to see how I'll feel after three months of working out - I'll be one cocky mother scratcher!!!

Getting out of a rut

Part of why I haven't posted this week is that I felt like I've been in a rut all week. Somebody told me once that a rut is just a coffin with the ends knocked out, and that's how I've felt, at least until today.

Most of it's because it's been a bad week at work. Yes, I know work isn't supposed to be fun so I'm not going to whine about how rough I have it, because honestly I have it pretty good - I'm not over-worked and really, I'm probably overpaid (so sleep better tonight knowing that some of your tax dollars are going into my pocket). But this week it really sunk in that the majority of my job now consists of paperwork - not really doing anything, but reading document after document and responding to a never ending stream of reporting requirements and data calls that other parts of the government require but that I know nobody will ever probably read. So my career has turned into checking the right boxes and answering the right questions. I spend more time figuring out how to write up what we're supposedly doing than actually doing anything. I think I might be facing the ugly truth that I'm turning into a bureaucrat. I've been pushing for a promotion here at work, but now I'm not sure if I want it - sure, it would be more money, but it would also mean more of this crap - instead of doing anything I'd be making sure other people were doing things. I can't believe that I thought I wanted to move up into management...

So that's why the Nebbitt has been in a funk all week - but I'm not giving in without a fight! Since I've given so much of my time to the job this week, I'm taking a little for myself and blogging on the clock! And I'm going to take an extra long lunch and get in an extra-long workout today! And I might even go for a walk, just for spite! I think everyone should join me in protest and slack off at work today!!!

I can relate

I was flipping through last Sunday's Washington Post magazine, which I usually only do to get my Dilbert fix, when I stumbled across a story by Joel Achenback called The Tail That Wags the Blog. It's a good read; my favorite part is where he describes the kind of people who blog:

"America, it turns out, is full of smart, clever, creative people who happen to have no interest in working and whose employers have unwisely given them Internet access."

I couldn't agree more - I've met some of the most interesting people over the last few months since I started my on-line venting. But I'm curious, how many of you fit the description above and do most of your blogging at work on the company's dime? I know I sure do, and if I go a week without posting (like this week) then it's only because I'm actually working hard for a change. So let me know if you're an on-the-clock blogger. And don't worry - your secret will be safe with me!

Everything comes in threes

Reading over Robb's latest post, I looked back on my life, and just like Robb I discovered that there have only been three women in my life that I have felt strongly enough about to consider "settling down" with.

The first one was my first real "girlfriend" - I had just moved to a new state, I was going into 8th grade, and she was one of the first people I met on the bus to school. Looking back now, I can't remember what initially attracted me to her, but I remember she had a great smile. She went on to become my first steady girlfriend (I was a late bloomer), my first real kiss, and if it had been up to me, she would have been my first to go "all the way" with. But it wasn't meant to be - her dad was in the milatary and got stationed overseas, so our relationship came to an end. But we stayed in touch while she was overseas, and we would always try to make sure we saw each other whenever she came back to the States. I even flew halfway around the world to visit her my senior year in high school - but ironically we ended up fighting the whole time I was there, so I started to wonder if we were meant to be together after all. But we kept in touch, and we had an unwritten rule that even if we were dating other people, we would still hook up whenever we saw each other. She ended up going to school half a country away, and I stayed on the East Coast

The second one I met during high school - she was a good friend's little sister. We met when she tagged along with her sister to a party at a friend's house, and we instantly hit it off. And even though there was a slight age difference (I was a senior and she was a freshman), we totally connected emotionally. She was definitely ahead of her time (physically and emotionally) - she was more mature at 15 than I was at 18. I'm not sure whether that's a compliment to her or an insult to me, but she is by far one of the smartest people I have ever met...the kind of person who you actually believe could do anything and be anything they wanted to be. Looking back it's a miracle we ever ended up together, because during high school I was busy trying to prove to the world that I was the complete opposite of her - I was the stereotypical headbanger who was fighting "the system" - you now the type...the long hair having, jean-jacket and black Metallica T-shirt wearing, cigarette and other substance smoking, Rebel without a clue that flourished during the 80's and early 90's. But she always saw past all that and saw the true potential in me, and always pushed me to be a better person. I think in some ways I was a challenge for her, somebody who needed to be fixed and made better. We dated on and off for about a year, and then went our separate ways when I went off to college. She ended up going to college in California, but we ended up running into each other a few years later after I had just gotten out of a serious relationship, and we tried dating again, and for a few months it was amazing, including some of the most amazing sex I've ever had. But she was determinined to live on the West Coast, and I wasn't ready to leave the East Coast.

The third I met while I was in college. She was working as a waitress at a restaurant me and my friends used to go to all the time while she put herself through nursing school. She always took all the crap we gave her and gave as good as she got, and I started eating at this restaurant more and more. And since the food wasn't that great, I realized that wasn't why I kept coming back. Soon we were dating, and for the next two years or so there was never a dull moment. She was a redhead, and it's true what they say about their tempers. And she had a lot of messed-up things happen to her in the past, and the more I learned, the more I was amazed she was able to go on at all. And then she had a number of medical problems, culminating in having to have one of the valves in her heart replaced. She was always jealous of how easy she thought everything in my life had been, and I was always in awe of how normal she was able to be given all that had happened to her. We eventually got to that point where the relationship either had to go to the next level or go away.

So how did it all work out? Two of the great loves of my life are gone - they both ended up marrying Navy men and I'm sure they're doing fine. The third one I'm married to right now.

Zodiacs

For some reason, the daily horoscopes in the Washington Post Express I read on the Metro every day have been eerily appropriate for the last week or so. After a talk w/ my wife on Sunday revealed that what she really wants from me is to not bring up any of our problems for a while so we can get some distance from them, I get this horoscope on Monday:

It's essential that you play the role of good guy, despite your resistance to certain developments talking place.

I can't wait to see what today's column holds for me...

Peace in the middle east (coast)

I'm glad to report that last Friday's planned night out on the town with the wife was a great success. OK, so maybe "night out on the town" is stretching it, but we were able to get out of the house, take a break from the kids, and enjoy dinner at The Outback.

We had a great time - we left everything else that is going on in our lives at home and just had a quiet night enjoying each other's comapny. And while I wouldn't quite call it a date night, it did remind me a little of how carefree things used to be before we had to worry about things like a mortgage and two kids who never seem to sleep at the same time.

Things went back to normal by Saturday morning, but at least we were able to escape our daily existence for a few hours. ..

Blogging saved my life

Blogging just saved my life tonight.

See, my wife and I are going to attempt to get a break from the kids for a few hours tonight and go out to dinner. And there was something I wanted to discuss with my wife. What I wanted to talk about isn't important, but what is important is that when I mentioned my plans to a friend - who happens to be female - she saw a totally different meaning and possible outcome than I had intended. And if I had gone forward with my approach, it probably would have ended up with the wife getting very, very angry at me. Not left the toilet seat up mad. I'm talking slept with her best friend the night before the wedding mad.

This experience makes me realize that even though I always think that I take the time to think before I speak, and that I take the thoughts of the person I'm speakng with into consideration, maybe I don't do such a good job after all. And that might explain a lot.

I see stupid people

In honor of all the people I work with who make every day an exercise in frustration, this is for you:

Please bare with me

Leave it to one of my talented co-workers to put a smile on my face this morning. The guy that's in charge of our office's security system has been having problems with the card readers that control access to the doors, so he sends an e-mail out to the whole staff about the problem - here's the funny part:

"Please bare with me while I try to bring the readers back online, again."

I cringe at the thought of our staff baring themselves to our security guy. Trust me, except for maybe one or two of them, you would not want to see these people naked! And what's even funnier, he sent a similar message last week asking people to "bare" with him, and we told him about "bear vs. bare" but he obviously forgot already.

What a tool.

I'm on my way

Here are the lyrics that hit home with me today:

I'm gonna organize some changes in my life
I'm gonna exorcise the demons of my past
I'm gonna take the car and hit the open road
I'm feeling ready to just open up and go

And I just feel I can be anything
That I might ever wish to be
And fantasize just what I want to be
Make my wildest dreams come true

I'm on my way
Out on my own again
I'm on my way
Out on the road again

Vixen - you've got 10 seconds to name the song - and no cheating!

Stuck in my head

Sometimes you hear lyrics to a song that seem to perfectly describe your current state of mind. This happens to me all the time, so I'm going to start sharing every time it happens. This should also serve as a accurate barometer of my current mood. This was yesterday's winner:

"It's always punch in, punch out
go to work and go back home"

People are animals

I'm so proud when my home state of Virginia makes it into the news. Like when a school district decides to sell used laptops for $50 and starts a riot. You have got to read the story and check out the pictures - it's so reassuring that all it takes for people to abandon any sense of decency and start throwing people to the ground and hitting each with chairs is the offer of a cheap, 4-year old laptop. Half the people that got one are just going to turn around and sell them on eBay anyway.

I just lost a little more faith in humanity today...

It's the most wonderful time of the year...

I got my annual performance appraisal last week. No big surprises, except that I put in a lot of extra effort over the past year just to see if I could actually get 5 out of 5 in every category. I get my appraisal and see that I got 5's across the board except for one 4. I say "What's with this one 4?" The answer: "Well, you did perform at a "5" level, but there's no way they'll approve a perfect score. So I picked a category to give you a 4 in." Ain't life a bitch?

So in honor of this travesty of justice, I wanted to share some funny appraisal comments. Supposedly they're actual British Navy appraisals, but even if they're not real, they're really funny!

• His men would follow him anywhere, but only out of curiosity.

• This Officer is really not so much of a has-been, but more of a definitely-won't-be.

• When she opens her mouth, it seems that this is only to change whichever foot was previously in there.

• He has carried out each and every one of his duties to his entire satisfaction.

• Technically sound, but socially impossible.

• This Officer reminds me very much of a gyroscope - always spinning around at a frantic pace, but not really going anywhere.

• This young lady has delusions of adequacy.

• This Medical Officer has used my ship to carry his genitals from port to port, and my officers to carry him from bar to bar.

• Since my last report he has reached rock bottom, and has started to dig.

• She sets low personal standards and then consistently fails to achieve them.

• He has the wisdom of youth, and the energy of old age.

• This Officer should go far - and the sooner he starts, the better.

• This man is depriving a village somewhere of an idiot.

• The only ship I would recommend this man for is citizenship.

• Works well when under constant supervision and cornered like a caged rat.

• Only occasionally wets himself under pressure.

I gotta get one of these

Check out the launch video for the newest, smallest iPod from Apple: the iPod Flea.

I'll be the first kid on my block to get one!!

BEEP BEEP BEEP

What a way to start the week. 5:00 in the morning I'm awoken by a deafening BEEP BEEP BEEP. My wife elbows me to say "Do you hear THAT?" Since she's having to yell over the noise to ask her question, I think the answer's pretty obvious, but I'm still too groggy to come up with an appropriately sarcastic response. Thoughts start running through my head: is it the fire alarm? Sounds like it, but it's coming from outside our room - if it was the fire alarm, the one in our bedroom would be going off (when one goes off they all go off - that's a fun experience!), but it wasn't. Was it the ADT alarm going off because somebedy had broken into the house? Probably not, since we never set the ADT anymore - I tripped it too many times going to work in the morning, forgetting it was on.

Turns out it is the carbon monoxide sensor outside of our bedroom. So after turning off the deafening alarm, we start tearing through all our "junk" drawers trying to find the instructions. We finally find them, and this is what it says "If the alarm gives 4 short beeps, pauses 5 seconds, then gives 4 short beeps, and repeats this pattern, thins indicates an alarm situation. If the alarm beeps intermittently every 25-30 seconds, this indicates a unit malfunction."

Just fucking great - I get woken up from a dead sleep by an ear-splitting electronic noise and I'm supposed to be counting the number of beeps? I'd like to meet the genius who thought it would be a great idea to signal a life-threatening situation like high levels of CO, and a non life-threatening situation like a malfunction, with the same, incredibly loud alarm.

So we cracked a few windows (great idea when it's 20 degrees hotter outside than inside, even at 6:00 AM), reset the alarm, and prayed it was just a false alarm. Amazingly, our daughter slept through the whole thing, and the alarm was right outside her door. She just have inherited my ability to sleep through anything.

But if it goes off again, we're calling 911. Must be Monday...

Setting the story straight

When I posted about what a good cook my wife is, Alydyn made an interesting comment - she said "It's nice to hear a "nice" comment about your wife for a change!" This made me think about what I have said about my wife in prior posts and what kind of an impression I've given people about her, and about me, and by extension, about our relationship and marriage.

First off, I have to say that when Robb first talked me into starting a blog, I had no idea what I would talk about. And I still don't - my posts have no pattern and wander all over the map. But once I got more comfortable posting, I discovered that it was a great way to vent my frustrations, and the very act of describing something that was causing me stress helped relieve that same stress. So in a sense it's been very theraputic, and I've met some truly interesting people along the way. But since my posts are about things that are bothering me, they obviously only represent my thoughts on any given matter. And that would be fine, except that by discussing situations involving people close to me, I've dragged them into the story, and maybe haven't fairly represented them.

In particular, I'm talking about my wife. Since I started this thing to vent about things that were bothering me, I didn't put too much effort into trying to provide a "fair and balanced" (so sue me, Fox!) account of every story, and I realize that I might have painted a less than accurate portrait of my wife. So I'd like to set the record straight.

My wife is a wonderful person - we've known each other for close to 20 years, and we've been married for five. She is a fantastic mother to our two children, and as I mentioned previously, she's a great cook. She's also very creative, and has done an amazing job of designing every room in our home. If I was in charge every room would still be builder's white. And she has a great sense for fashion, so she always makes sure her wardrobe -and mine - are kept stylish.

The point I want to make is that I think my wife is an amazing person who I love deeply, and I don't want to ever give the impression that I think there is anything wrong with her as a person or a mother. The problems that I write about stem solely from problems we have communicating with each other, not from any failing on her part as a person. So if it sounded like I haven't had nice things to say about my wife in the past, let me set the record straight - she's a great person, I think I'm a great person, I'm just not sure that we're great together. So keep that in mind as I vent in the future...

South of the Border

Got home from work today and for dinner my wife made some killer Mexican food - enchiladas, Mexican rice, refried beans, beer...totally hit the spot! So in my new-found spirit of positivity I just wanted everyone to know how lucky I am to have a wife that is not only an excellent cook, but that actually enjoys to cook. Sure, that's why I'm having to hit the gym so hard, but it's soo worth it.

The way to a man's heart might not really be through his stomach, but it sure passes close by there. So for all of you out there who have a spouse that can really work some magic in the kitchen, cheers to us! Those other people don't know what they're missing...

THTF

It's 94 degrees here in the nation's capital. With the humidity, that brings the heat index to right around the inside of a pizza oven. We're under a heat advisory until 8:00 PM.

It's so hot and sticky that I officially proclaim it to be Too Hot To Fuck (THTF) today. This reminds me of the day I came up with the concept of THTF. That would be in New Orleans. In July. Safety tip for all you newlyweds out there: July is not the best time to see the Big Easy.

And this got think me to thinking - how did the human race survive before electricity and modern marvels like air conditioning? I bet if the government paid a bunch of scientists a lot of money to study birth rate patterns during the summer months along the middle to lower East Coast and the South, they would find that there are a lot fewer babies conceived from July to September - because it is just THTF. And therein lies the real danger in global warming - if the Earth keeps warming up and the ice caps melts and it's THTF year round, the only people left getting any booty will be the eskimos - except that they all drowned when the ice melted and their homes sunk into the ocean. So if you want your grand children to be able to get some, stop global warming!

I think I spent too much time in the sun today...

You asked for it, you got it

A lot of people have asked to see a "before" shot of me now that I've started working out. So here you go - enjoy!!

"I'm not fat...I'm festively plump!"

You know you need it

Sometimes spam is just too good to delete. Here's one I got today:

You know you need it. The longer and thicker you are, the better everyone involved will be.


Don't delay on the world's best solution for your problem. Make "it" work like a king today.


Up-size it.

I was going to delete the message, but I like the idea of my 'it" working like a king...I could make him a little crown and everything. And if it's going to be better for everyone involved, don't I owe it to all of you to get some? Where's that credit card...

That which doesn't kill you

...is supposed to make you stronger, right? Let's hope so. After three days of working out w/ a friend at work who is in much better shape than me, I'm feeling the burn. I know I'm pushing myself harder than normal trying to keep up with him, and I know that over the next few days, even if I don't end up tweaking my back again, I'm going to be in a lot of pain. And I can't wait.

No, this isn't going to turn into a workout blog, but I will be talking about my time in the gym from time to time because it's the next step in efforts to improve myself, and I want to share my progress with the world.

Why the need to self-improve? Well, some of the more perceptive of you out there might have picked up from some of my previous posts that I'm not that happy about some of the things going on in my life right now. But I've been talking a lot with friends lately, and I've come to realize that I might be causing a lot of my own unhappiness - after all, I haven't gone through the kind of major life events that my friends have, yet I feel like I've got less of a positive attitude than they do. So maybe I'm really the cause of most of the bad things I think are going on in my life. Hell, after hearing their stories, what do I even have to complain about?

So from now on, I'm going to focus on becoming a better, more positive person. I'm going to try to stop being negative; I'm going to stop saying things about other people that I wouldn't say to their face; and I'm going to stop always having to be right when I know I'm right (that's going to be soo hard!). And along w/ those internal improvements, I'm going to keep working out too. Who knows, maybe I'm always in such a pissy mood because I need to drop 15 pounds.

And I know a lot of my humor comes from my anger, so hopefully my new-found positivity, if I can make it last, won't mean I never make you laugh again. Wish me luck...

it does a body good...

After way too long I finally made it back into the gym this week. I'm drinking my milk - I'm going to be somebody someday!

Not that anybody cares, but I'm going to post updates on my progress from time to time to keep myself accountable. Sign up now for a set of before and afters pictures! :)

who's your favorite little rascal?

...Alfalfa or is it Spanky?

Maybe it's because I caught Tommy Boy or TV last weekend, or maybe it's because of all the "people I fantasize about" lists I've seen lately (Robb, Lilith, Heather for starters), or maybe it's because I just read Charlie's thoughts on masturbation, but whatever it is, a strange question popped into my head...

This question is only for the ladies: if you heard a guy who you do not know at all say that the last time he masturbated he thought about you while he was taking care of business, would you be offended, disgusted, or flattered?

Would your answer change if you later met the guy and found him attractive? or if you found him unattractive?

And what if a close guy friend, who you've known for years, said that you had made a guest appearance on Spanktravision - how would you feel? Or what if it was a close friend of your boyfriend or husband, who you've always thought was cute and wondered "what if?"

Oh, and Alydyn brought up a good point - for the purposes of responding to this question, assume that there is no risk of the guys turning into stalkers or otherwise becoming obsessive.

Just one of those questions I've always wanted to have answered. Please help me out...

Boy meets dog

The rules are simple - whoever blinks first loses!

Another battle lost

In the eternal war for the control of my freedom, I lost another key battle yesterday. And like most of the battles I've fought since meeting my wife on the fields of matrimonial combat, I didn't even realize I was fighting until I had already lost.

Here's the story. My wife and I had our second child a few months ago. We live in a four-bedroom townhouse. Here is how those four rooms were being used before my son was born:

• Bedroom #1: Home office
• Bedroom #2: Our room
• Bedroom #3: Duaghter's room
  
• Bedroom #4: Hobby/storage room
  
  

When my son was first born, he was sleeping in a bassinet in our room, but once he started sleeping a few hours every night, my wife moved him into the hobby room. Little did I know that this was the opening salvo in our next battle, and that my wife had just launched the married version of the invasion of Poland.

See, the hobby room was the last bastion of "my stuff" left in the house, and it was fiercely contested territory. A veritable No Man's Land littered with the corpses of past arguments. To fully understand why so many battles have been fought over it, a little background on what it represents to both sides is in order.

When two people get married, they both bring with them a certain amount of baggage, some physical, some emotional. For my part, the emotional baggage mostly consisted of an only child's natural tendency to think about himself first and foremost, and the physical baggage consisted of a lot of things from my past that I had decided that I still "needed" to have. As for my wife's emotional baggage, I'm still trying to figure that out, but the physical baggage was literally that - luggage and a lot of clothes. Lots and lots of clothes. I'm talking like 20 pairs of jeans and god knows how many pairs of shoes. Imelda Marcos would be proud of her shoe collection. Now to be fair, when we got married my wife did work in the fashion business, so she got a huge discount, but she still had a flipping lot of clothes. More on that later.

Back to my stuff. I have (well, had, but that's jumping ahead) a lot of stuff from when I was growing up. A lot of really important stuff that played a huge role in the formation of the person I am today. I have a lot of toys. Warning: if you're one of those people that think it's ridiculous for a grown person to still own toys from their childhood (like my wife), you better stop reading now b/c the rest of this post will probably just piss you off.

I still have most of the Star Wars toys I had when I was growing up. No, I don't take them out and play with them or re-enact scenes from the movies when I'm taking a bath. And I have a lot of my old G.I. Joe toys, too - not all of them, just the cooler ones and the ones I didn't blow up with fireworks. Why do I still have these? My wife is convinced that the reason I still have all these things and refuse to throw them away is because I'm simply an incurable pack rat. While that's partially true, I tell her that the reason I hold on to all these playthings from my youth is because now that I have a son, I want to be able to share these things that meant so much to me with him, so he might be able to enjoy them too. But like so many things we tell ourselves and those that we love, I've realized that that's not really true. First of all, my son's not even a year old yet, and by the time he's ten or so, the toys he'll have to choose from will be so advanced, he'll look at my carefully preserved Star Wars figures and be like "You mean I have to move these things myself? Don't they do anything?" And as much as it pains me to admit it, even if I chain him down in front of the TV and make him watch the original three Star Wars movies over and over again every day for a month straight, he still won't feel the same attachment to that dusty old X-Wing with the peeling stickers or the original Darth Vader with the cheesy plastic lightsaber as I do. The other reason I've held on to them is because I've told my wife that I plan to sell them on eBay, and that much like cognac and fine wine, good toys only appreciate in value. Here's a safety tip guys: your wife will usually let you keep crap that she really wants you to get rid of if you promise that you're going to sell it on eBay...someday. Just use the eBay ploy sparingly, and actually sell something once in a while. And don't tell her what you buy with the money you made from selling your stuff. Those are the rules.

So back to the hobby room. I have fought many battles over keeping my stuff, and haven't always won. My prized playthings have been whittled down in a battle of attrition until all I have left fits on a few shelves in the hobby room. Never mind that my wife continued to grow her arsenal - besides her normal clothes, she also got maternity clothes. And not once but twice! Sure, she's gotten rid of some of her old clothes, but my portion of our closet - much like the rest of the house - continues to get smaller day by day.

I should have seen it coming the first night that the wife moved the bassinet into the hobby room that the battle had started. Now, she had secured a foot hold, and just like Omaha Beach on D-Day she dug in. "You know, honey, your son is going to need his own room someday. And this is the only room we have left." And with those simple words, the battle was over before I even realized it had begun. Her tactics were beautiful - how could I argue with wanting my son to have a room? If I did, I would be the petty, selfish one, and all of my son's future failings in life would be traced back to the simple fact that I did not give him his own room. That left only one possible conclusion: I capitulated and my stuff would have to go.

It wasn't a total defeat - I was able to save most of my "valuables" and put them in storage, but now it's costing me $60 a month to hold on to my childhood. And I know it's just a matter of time before I start getting reminded of this fact. I'm sure the next time I want to go out to dinner or the movies my wife will say "Are you sure we can afford to? It would be a lot easier if we weren't paying to store all your stuff..."

So once again, I fought for my freedom - in this case to be an immature, spoiled manchild - and lost. Slowly, surely, battle by battle, my wife is winning the war and turning me into a responsible and caring adult. But I'm not done fighting yet.

Oh, and that thing about chaining my son and making him watch Star Wars movies...I'm totally doing that.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

I finally decided to upload an image, so here you go - a classic picture of me & Robb way back in the day. And before everyone starts asking who is who, I'll make it easy for everyone: I'm me and Robb is Robb. Any questions?

More thoughts on Robb's thoughts

I still finding myself contemplating Robb's last post, and maybe I'm just in a pissy mood today, but it's really starting to sound like bad advice. Allow me to elaborate...

On the surface, it sounds great - after all, here's a guy who learned the hard way what not to do, or what to do more of, to make a marriage work. So on that level it sounds like helpful advice for guys to follow so that they don't end up in a similar situation. That's all well and good, and I do sincerely appreciate his insight on what you think might have made your marriage turn out better.

First, Robb says that a lot of married guys tell him they would like to be in his shoes. What's wrong with their own shoes? I've seen Robb's shoes, and I wouldn't want to be in them - they're two sizes too big, and to be honest, they kind of smell. I just don't see why people would want any of that. But you know what they say about guys with big shoes - big socks.

Then he goes on to say that we married guys need to meet our wive's emotional needs. Here's the basic problem with that advice: we have no idea how to figure out the complex psychological Rubic's cube that is female emotion. How can we? Women have all those funky hormones floating around their bodies that we don't. So the only way us guys could truly understand women's emotions is to start getting estrogen shots or something. But doesn't that make men grow breasts? I fail to see how bringing another set of boobs into the house is going to help anything - for starters, we'd get yelled at for checking out our own tits all the time, and what happens if our boobs get bigger than our wives? We'd never hear the end of that one...

Next, he says that we need to be a 50/50 partner. Now, short of becoming hermaphrodites, how exactly are we supposed to do that? If I'm at work from 6 AM to 5 PM, how am I supposed to change 50% of my son's diapers? The only way I could do 50% of the housework would be for me to quit my job. Then we'd lose the house and be living in a van down by the river. I'm pretty sure that's not going to put too many women in the mood.

Robb's next of pearl of wisdom is that every once in a while, us manfolk need to let our wives "just be a woman once in a while." First off, I didn't know I had the option to let my wife be anything other than a woman - if I did, I'd let her be a gay guy that really loves giving head...but only a few days a month, so people don't get the wrong idea. Then he says that "for a little time here and there she needs to not be mom or wife, just a woman" - now this is a good idea, because every woman deserves to get a break from being a mom, and from being a wife, and get the chance to just be a woman who actually wants to have sex.

Honesty is the next approach Robb suggest we take. We should be honest and tell our wife how we feel. If she doesn't hear or understand us, we're supposed to tell her again. This will build up trust, which is supposed to be the backbone of a successful marriage (remember, this is coming from the divorced guy!). Here's how this would work in real life:

• Man: Honey, I need to be honest with you. I feel like we're drifting apart, and a big part of that is because there doesn't seem to be any intimacy in our relationship. I don't feel like you want to share a physical connection with me anymore, and it's making me very sad.
• Woman: Shhh, I'm watching Trading Spaces!
• Man: No, this is serious - I need to be honest with you about how I'm feeling so we can build some trust and try to heal this split that I feel is growing between us.
• Woman: I said shut up! This is the one where Hildi covers all the walls with feathers!
• Man: You mean you've already seen this episode and you still don't want to talk to me?
• Woman: See, I would so go on this show but knowing my luck I'd get Hildi. Or Doug.
• Man: You have got to be fucking kidding me.
• Woman: No I'm serious! I would totally get Hildi. I guess if we let her do one of the kid's rooms we could just re-do it if we hated it.
• Man: Trust me when I say this, I have had it. I am going to start fucking other women.
• Woman: Speaking of other women, you know who I would like to have? Laurie. Or maybe Genevieve.
• Man: I am going to throw Genevieve up against that wall and fuck her until she has feathers coming out of her ass like Daffy Duck.
• Woman: Oh, speaking of cartoons, wait till I show you the new Looney Tunes sticker book your daughter got today.
• Man: (muttering to himself) Last time I listen to that single-dad, no-wife having mutherfucker...
  

Finally, Robb suggests focusing on physical intimacy. Things like holding hands, rubbing her shoulders or back, cracking her knuckles, that kind of thing. This is supposed to result in my wife becoming a "firecracker in the bedroom" Doesn't that sound a little dangerous? I mean think about it - I don't want my wife to be explosive and violent in the bedroom...that sounds painful and might even damage my sensitive parts! So if I follow Robb's advice and give my wife a few more hugs and massages she might blow my dick off? No thank you!

So after reading Robb's advice, I can only conclude that he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. When it comes to giving useful advice to married men, he just doesn't have good ideas like I do...

Getting to the Real Issues

So my last post was supposed to offer some advice to the married ladies out there about what their husbands might be upset about. Robb then offered his thoughts on the matter. And then I read Maria's thoughts on how people sometimes use sex as a weapon, and it got me thinking about the things that really tend to tear relationships apart. From what I've observed, almost all problems boil down to differences of opinion over two areas: sex and money. I know personally, when I think about all of the "discussions" (note: I define discussions as fights that don't result in spilling of tears, breaking of plates, or any other emotional or property damage) my wife and I have had lately, they've been about sex or money. And when I really analyze those discussions more, I'm not so sure I can really separate the two. Because at least for us, the issues have become so intertwined that now it's just one big, seemingly unsolvable problem.

So let me pose a question to all the married folks out there: what do you and your significant other disagree over more - sex or money?

P.S. Please don't post any "We've been married for 15 years and we never fight" comments, b/c if you don't at least occasionally argue w/ your spouse about something, you either a) have nothing at all in common w/ each other; or b) you've already started sleeping with other people.

For the Married Ladies

To follow up on Robb's For the Ladies post, I thought I'd add some thoughts from a married man's point of view. Like Robb, I'm not claiming to understand a thing about women, but I might be able to help a few married women figure out a few things about the men they married, since there is nothing more annoying than listening to a group of married women bitch about their husbands. So here we go:

• First and foremost, do not keep trying to change things about your husband - it's too late for that now. That's what the whole dating process was for; you had your chance to make any final adjustments to your future husband's attitudes, opinions, fashion sense, and personal hygiene, and if you didn't take advantage of it, then shame on you. Once you took those vows, you're bound to the "for better or worse" part. And this goes for the guys too - if you think that you'll be able to fix all those little things you don't find so endearing about your girlfriend/fiancee AFTER your wedding day, to quote Rob Halford, you've got another thing coming. This is why living together before you get married makes such good, practical sense - it might go against your values, or your religion, or your family's wishes, but think about it - would you buy a car without a test drive? Would you buy a house without a walkthrough?
  
  
• While we're on the subject of dating, let's talk about sex. Everyone's familiar with the tired cliche about how women stop wanting to have sex once they get married. But is it a cliche if it's true? The biggest complaint I hear from my married guy friends is that the passion in their marriage slowed down significantly or stopped not too long after the honeymoon. And it can't all be because every guy starts being a dick after he gets married. A few of us, maybe, but this is too widespread of a phenomenon to be a coincidence. So here's some more helpful advice, ladies: sex while you're dating is like running a marathon. You have to set a comfortable pace that you can keep up for the whole race. So where am I going with this metaphor? If you and your man were having sex 5 times a week before you got married, it can't drop to 5 times a year by your first anniversary! If it sounds like I'm being sexist and saying that it's the ladies job to make sure there's passion in the marriage, think about this: I have never - never ever never - heard a man complaining to the guys at work about the wife wanting to have sex all the time but he was too tired or not in the mood. So when it comes to sex, it's usually up to the woman as to whether or not it's going to happen. This leads to the next point...
  
  
• I know this is going to make me sound like a real pig, but here's another simple reason why it's important to make sure that your love life doesn't dry up after you get married: If you are not having sex with your husband on a regular basis HE WILL HAVE IT WITH SOMEBODY ELSE! See, I think that a lot of women can be perfectly happy in a marriage even if there isn't a lot of sex. Part of this I think is because women are just wired different than men, and part of it is because women can find satisfaction in other areas, such as giving birth and raising children. So while I'm not saying that it's every wife's duty to make sure they keep their husband satisfied, I am saying that you have to understand that if you and your husband aren't having sex on a regular basis, he probably feels that he is losing out on something, or worse, being forced to give up something that's very important to him. And that really only leaves him with two options: 1) continue feeling like he's losing something he cares about a great deal and blaming YOU for the fact that it's gone, or 2) try to find it somewhere else. Neither option bodes well for the long-term success of the marriage Here's my opinion - if after a year or two (or a kid or two), a woman finds that she isn't interested in her husband sexually, she wasn't really in love with him and never should have married him in the first place. The same goes for the guys, except as I've stated earlier, men losing interest in having sex with a wife who wants to have sex with them is seldom a problem.
  
  
• So here's my last insight for married women - never underestimate the power you have over us men. We may not always show it the way you want us to show it, but most of us really are madly in love with you. Men don't like giving up the idea of freedom or the idea of never being with another woman, so if we overcame that and decided we wanted to spend the rest of our lives with you, you must be very special to us. So let us know that you think we're special too. And if that means expressing it physically, even when you don't want to or you had a bad day, just do it - because we are basically simple creatures at heart, and if you make us feel loved there is nothing you can't get us to do. Not to be crude, but never underestimate the power of a blow job or a quality sheet-soaking session!

Again, I don't claim to know anything about women, and my knowledge of men is admittedly limited to my own thoughts on the matter, but hopefully something I've written will be helpful - or at least amusing - to somebody...