Whiskey-Tango Town

So, the title of my blog is a reference to one of my favorite stupid movies - “So I Married an Axe Murderer” – from the scene where Mike Meyers is explaining the somewhat shallow reasons why he has broken up with so many women and ultimately why he’s still single.  One break up in particular was due solely to the fact that she smelled exactly like beef vegetable soup.

This is a completely valid reason to break up with someone!   I absolutely hate the smell of most soups – but especially beef vegetable. It smells like Macy’s at Christmas time – Body Odor central!  The next time you are whipping up a can of Progresso – tell me I’m wrong. Nasty stuff. 

I’ve come to the realization that I need to stop swearing. The bambino is starting to repeat many of the choice words that come out of my mouth – making me hyper-aware of the fact that I use cuss words in 8 out of 10 sentences (or exclamations).  Apart from making me feel like an uneducated moron, I don’t want to take one more step into whiskey-tango town (to use a friends phrase).  I already live in the Central Valley and have in-laws that are involved in one or more of the following:

1. Have black eyes caused by Bud Light cans being thrown at them in a domestic dispute.
2. Obsessively watch Nascar and display a life size cardboard cutout of one of the drivers in the ENTRY WAY of their home
3. Are on trial
4. Had their power shut off because they didn’t pay their electricity bill for 6 months (but had the balls to take money from their elderly mother to buy bud light and pizza!)
5. Are over 300 pounds.

There is something to the whole “opposites attract” theory.  Clearly, my main dude and I come from different worlds. I’m pretty sure my husband is thankful that I saved him from a fate worse than being forced to watch WWF Friday Night Smackdown. But I’m just as glad that he saved me from a flavorless Stepford Wives existence as well. 

The hubs grew up in a blue collar, latch key environment. And amazingly, he now embodies the very best traits that type of childhood can instill in someone -  he’s a hard working, tough as nails, drink through it, quit your bitching, do your job, loyal to a fault, reliable, heart of gold kind of guy.

I grew up in a priveledged upper middle class home, with a saint-like stay at home mom who made my lunches until I graduated from high school and a dad who is a business genius.  I had so many advantages that I took for granted at the time. Truly – youth, beauty and money is wasted on the young.  I’m self possessed and fairly moody and have an innate sense of laziness.  But Tom seems to think I’m worth it.  It’s definitely not due to my sweet talking or my cooking skills that made him want to marry me – although I do occassionally make a lunch for him to take to work.

Love, Hate & Dorkiness

Bless me Blogfather – It’s been sixth months since my last post.  Let’s just say the inspiration for my lame-ass blogging has not been present. However, I really feel the need to re-connect with my long lost college angst and start airing my private humiliation in a public form! Sweet!

Love it:

1. The western coast of California. Good lord I still miss it and feel supremely trapped in the god awful Sacramento valley.
2. Laughing with real friends. There is nothing like letting the loud laugh loose with people who are on exactly the same humour-wavelength as you.
3. Josh Lyman from The West Wing.
4. Aloha TriPeaks solitaire.
5. The feel of the bottom of my little son’s feet.
6. Clean, soft sheets.
7. Open windows in winter.
8. Ground coffee, brewed.
9. The occasional snarky comment.
10. That Tom thinks I should be a professional children’s song singer.

 

Hate

1. The sound of the word “puss”.
2. Crazy mom groups that have lame names – like MOPS or Stroller Strides.
3. Nail clippers in use.
4. Flowers and jewelry as occasion presents.
5. Meetings that last more than 30 minutes.
6. Elmo

 

Dorkiness

1. I sang and bopped my head to “California Love” by Tupac this morning in the car. If you know me – then picturing this is probably making you laugh.
2. I called this dude in college who I was sort of dating (read: hung out and got hammered with at a frat house on the weekends) someone who “touched my soul” in my journal. *RETCH* *GAG*
3. There are three things that I don’t really enjoy doing: 1. taking out the garbage; 2. Petting animals; 3. Going in to Victoria’s Secret.

Word.