Valentine's Day is past, and the flowers have died and the chocolates have been eaten and Vermont Teddy Bears (again, WTF?!) has been sacrificed and the token blowjob has been proffered* and Visa bill has been and all of the tokens that the Hallmark Universe instructs us are love are all gone. Most of us agree that while little gifts can be nice, these things aren't really lovelove. It's more like "stuff."
I returned from my vacation refreshed, rested, and ready to tackle my husband who I hadn't seen in over a week. He greeted me with the two words granted to make anyone recoil: stomach flu.
Hallmarkian Holidays aside, love, and its more committed corollary, marriage, are about chemistry and compromise and communication.
But sometimes it's just about crap.
I wasn't a huge fan of Sex in the City (mostly because I thought that main character was an idiot who I wanted to slap at least three times per episode, and yet I watched...so that really makes me the idiot, yes?) but this was sheer genius:
The SlackFamily is an FF - a Farting Family. If they like you, they'll fart in front of you. Which seems backwards, but it's all about a level of comfort, so you should be honored when you're let into the farting circle. However, I'm all about leaving the room. It's certainly not due to the fear that I lack femininity (that's what boobs are for!) Perhaps it's my throwback state of manners?
Either way, love, true love, means knowing that sometimes your partner has explosive diarrhea. And waiting at the door with a shot of Pepto instead of a gin and tonic.
The rumors are true: Will has shut down his blog for the time being. Like me, he is working on a couple of Sooper Sekrit Projects which will hopefully end in a paycheck. As I told him the other day, the only difference between him and a bestselling author is that he hasn't written a book yet. So it's time to get to work. For both of us.**
*An implied, not explicit, part of the Hallmark Universe.
**I'm sticking around.