Issues: We All Have Them

First, I would just like to lay down a quick disclaimer and say that the “issue” here is not life-threatening, day stopping, cry-for-help issues. I use the word “issue” lightly, just as I use ALL THE WORDS lightly. My husband and I have little everyday issues that we have learned to accept, laugh about and work around.

I feel like all humans have an “issue” with something, big or small. If issues stop you from living your life, get help. Some are hilarious, some are frustrating to those closest to us, and some are just silly. I have many, from food issues, kid issues, and several clothing issues, but unlike most things here this is not about me.

One that entertains me is my husband’s issue with Work Clothes. Not a game stopper, deal breaker, or debilitating texture manipulation issue, just an issue with appearance and fit of his work clothes. I can totally relate to clothing issues. When I think about all my various clothing issues…the first thing that comes to mind is my favorite psychopathic robot, Roberto from Futurama, with his “Ever kill a man with a sock?” (I'll link the video at the end so you can watch it, it's fuuuuuuuny.)

The other day he told me “I’m out of work clothes.” I know what he meant, but I looked at the closet, and well, I would just like to share this picture of our closet with you. All but the 2 pink shirts on the right are HIS clothes. 

 

Almost aaallllllll HUSBAND threads

See what I’m getting at? This is not the guest room closet, which is the graveyard closet that houses the ghosts of clothing that fit in the past, this is our BEDROOM closet. Where he typically hangs his everyday clothing.

He obviously meant he did not have the work clothes he preferred clean and available. Right off the bat, I recognized some of his quags. After 9 years together, I’m starting to understand his clothing issues, but I’m not all the way there yet. 

The collared polo-type shirts are not work shirts in his mind, too casual. Yes even for Friday. On casual Friday he wears the same thing, khakis and a button-up shirt. It’s rare he wears any short-sleeved shirt to work for a number of reasons you probably don’t want to hear about. Meaning they’re not funny.

A couple of the shirts he considers “dress shirts” for special occasions, which means either the style, or more likely the FABRIC is shiny. I don’t even mean pimp, Vegas nightclub shiny,

from endawanda.com

I’m talking about 1% polyester. 

You wouldn’t even know it was there, but that means DRESS shirt to him. A lot of his issues? Are about fabric.

I almost have his work shirt necessity list down. 

This is what I know for certain:

The slightest bit shiny and it's a dress shirt.

They must be mostly cotton, NOT linen. Too wrinkly.

They must be THICK fabric, we don’t know from thread count but NO nip slips. Or anything like this:

from lurvely.com

They must be long-sleeved. With rare exception.

NO WHITE or light-colored BUTTONS. This is his “wire hangers.”

Pattern is better than plain, but not a busy or loud pattern.

They can’t be too dark, or too light. In fact, let’s talk about color.

A special section for COLORS:

Green is great! Especially lighter greens, but not light seafoam green.

from sodahead.com

Dark purple is good, depending on the pattern. 

Not plain dark purple. Ever.

Blue is questionable.

Navy is good but not solid navy.

from zazzle.com

Light blue must have a good pattern.

Regular red is a NO. In all cases.

Maroon is okay, usually.

Yellow is a no, unless the pattern overwhelms the yellow.

Orange is a no, unless it has a visible Bears logo.

Brown depends on the shade and pattern.

Light gray is a no, dark gray can’t be too dark and again, flecked or a good pattern. Plain dark gray is just black's shadow.

Most black is right OUT, unless there is a busy pattern.

White is only for tampon commercials* and old timey milkmen.

These are not rules we have ever spoken about, these are rules I have learned the hard way. Meaning, I purchased what I thought was a perfectly acceptable shirt for him, only to be rejected for one of these reasons. Or another reason I can’t remember right now. After all this time, I still only run at about a 70% success ratio. Gift receipts, I keep track of them.

This past Christmas, I bought him what I KNOW for a fact would have been an awesome-looking shirt on him. I was leery, it had light blue AND regular RED in the plaid pattern, both no-no’s, but it also had a lot of green. He looks great in light blue, but he has a very special kind of love for light blue, mostly it's called hate, and this is a man who knows all too well that hate is the path to the dark side. It’s a dirty shame, with his brown hair it really looks good on him. He is not a fan, he really has some kind of light blue chip on his shoulder.

My theory? It has something to do with his green eyes. He is kind of sensitive about his eyes. I don’t want to get into it, but basically he has green eyes and he loves green, and he kind of HATES blue, and blue things, and all that blue represents. I have never met anyone with such distaste for one of the primary colors.

I mean yellow? It’s bright, maybe it reminds you of Hi-Liters or urine.

Red? Rage. Fresh pimples. Okay, I get that. It can be an eye punch of a color.

Blue? What the fudge could BLUE have ever done to you? Relaxed you too much? Reminded you of the sky. FUCK YOU SKY. It’s just silly.

Anyway, I have blue eyes and I love blue. Maybe it’s perception, maybe it’s eyeball racism, I’m not sure. But he? Doesn’t wanna talk about it I guess.

Besides the texture and color and having long sleeves and NOT white or light-colored buttons, the THICK fabric also cannot be itchy. Duh, I know, but he has dry, itchy skin as it is so that comes with a heavy dose of irrational fear of itchy fabric. 

We were 90’s kids and Nirvana fans, total flannelcore, and he will not even wear any kind of flannel shirt anymore, which really blew part of brain away when I donated the last couple flannel shirts. We are talking about the man I named Count Comfula almost a decade ago, he should be decked in head to toe flannel 24/7, right?

He said he would still wear flannel if he “finds one he likes” but cannot tell me what that means. I am no flannoisseur, so after a few I just gave up on that. You would think life in ComfyTown would either be draped in velvet or total flannage. We still listen to Nirvana and this dude? Is sick with the comfy, and has a goatee. He is flanntastic, but I think he is afraid they will be itchy. His cheap wife bought some sketchy flannel bed sheets that SUCKED and itched like a meth-head.

The Count's Shirts: A Wrap-Up

Other than long sleeves, thick fabric, no white buttons,  good patterns, no forbidden colors, he says anything goes. 

______________________________

Happy 5^th Wedding Anniversary to my Count, you big, beautiful weirdo! This blog post? Is your anniversary present. DFILY.

p.s. We were married in Vegas 5/10/08 but that is just the day the paperwork made it legal to the government, and really who cares about those jackholes? Anyone who can’t legally be married yet, a piece of paper doesn’t define your love, you do it yourself EVERY DAY.

I prefer to celebrate November when he asked me to share the rest of my life with him or October, when we first started dating. This October will be NINE YEARS together. Neither of us remembers the exact date because we didn’t write it in our Holly Hobby diaries, and that was before we had Facebook accounts so we can’t just look it up, but we think it was October 18^th. Ish.

Since I’m too lazy to soak this word stew in my usual marinade of funny, I give you definitions of Clothes from UrbanDictionary.com because I might be lazy, but I am grateful when people stop by to read my brain vomit.

1.	clothes
	Pieces of fabric shaped and stitched so that they may be worn on the body. Are increasingly becoming a symbol of social status. Many people are being classified based on what kind of clothes they wear. You've probably done it, too.
2.	clothes
	The most effective form of contraception. Gavin dry-humped Roberta on the bus. Since they both wore clothes, copulation was avoided.
3.	Clothes
	The most useless invention in the history of mankind, in fact we'd all benefit from not wearing clothes. Man: Yo man clothes are useless!  Woman: I already took mine off!

2nd FREE Bonus: Roberto from Futurama’s “Ever kill a man with a sock?” Roberto is the bomb dot com. After you watch this video, search "Roberto, practice my stabbing." You are welcome. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gut2Be3sMoY2

* Shout out to "It's Why You Like Me" Facebook page for reminding me the only OTHER situation where someone would wear all-white in this day and age. Check out her Facebook page, it's heeeeelarious. THREE BONUSES in this post. Quite a value. 

WW2: Recent Texted/Email Pics From My Friend, Brian

1st Ever Wordless Wednesday: May Day 2013

2013/04/30  11:00a.m.

2013/04/30  18:00

2013/05/01  9:00a.m.

 

2013/05/01  16:00

Prom-a Drama

My son, Tinny, is a senior in high school and it’s prom time so I asked him, same as last year and same as every year at homecoming time, “Are you going to the dance?” I did not say it sarcastically or even roll my eyes. 

I know, my first baby’s senior prom I am supposed to be all nostalgic and weepy or happy or whatever, probably at least excited and wanting to take a million effing pictures, but seriously? I just want to fulfill my parental obligations without guilt and wash my hands of it.

I’m not a prom fan, or a formal dance fan, or a Dance Mom or a fan of ANYTHING formal. I’m sure you’re shocked to hear that. I seriously hate going to, hearing about, knowing about, thinking about, looking at pictures of, or magazine articles about stupid shit like prom. I'm not saying I'm too cool (out loud) for it, or that's it's vapid or 1st World or whatever, it's just not my thing. So. NOT. My. Thing. 

Even when I was in high school. I was all 'Barf me out, gag me with a spoon, put a power tool up my asshole, turn it on and kill me.' I was a lovely teen.

As the mom, however it is my lovely job, want it or not, to make sure he gets the tickets in time, and has clothes that fit, etc., if he wants to go. If left to their own devices, guys, just like ME in high school, (and yeah ok, even me NOW,) forget everything and then shit doesn’t happen. 

Anyway, every time I ask him about a high school event he is always surprised by the question, like it never occurred to him. He is never sure when the thing even is, or if his friends are going, or any part of it. I know they make announcements in school of these types of things, and I’m sure when they do he’s either telling jokes or eating flamin’ hot cheese doodads from the vending machine and/or staring off into space thinking of something else, just like he does when I talk to him. 

from gurl.com

In the past, he has gone to homecoming in #groups, which is currently #trending (I know that’s annoying espesh not on Twitter, that’s why I DID IT.) I obviously prefer kids go to these things in groups, that way there is a greater chance they will all actually have FUN, even if one of their boyfriends/girlfriends/BFFs is a being an asshole that night. I mean, let’s face it it’s high school, someone is going to drop a Drama Bomb that night. Hopefully with a group there is less chance of hi jinx and well, coitus. 

I picture this as the group situation (yes, those are Bibles)

prayer group from ehow.com

And this as taking a date situation

from cafepress.com

Yeeeaah, my mental images really need a frickin’ UPGRADE to 2.0, from 8-bit Atari times. Retro-y.

Also the group is easy like Sunday morning as far as clothing, with Tinny I've been lucky. He and his friends agreed at past dances to wear jeans and hoodies. Literally. I thought this was weird, but it also made me positively giddy, because that meant I didn’t have to buy him dress clothes, that he would wear ONE TIME before outgrowing them.

Thankfully the ONE THING I don’t have to argue with him about is clothing, he will actually GO to a thrift shop/Goodwill and pick out stuff. Tons of stuff. At a family event at my sister’s resale shop, we got 50% off, of resale shop prices, and I still spent over $80. Used Nikes, yo, still cost some coin.

This time it’s his senior prom, so even my dumb ass would encourage him to dress nicer, and luckily his dad just had this thing with work, where the two of them flew to Detroit to watch the Blackhawks (NHL) game on Easter, and fly there WITH the actual Blackhawks team. Like on the same private plane. I know right? Anyway, for the second time in his life his father actually bought him dress clothes, good news for me. 

As usual, he is not sure if he’s going to prom. It is two weeks from today. I did ask him about it a few weeks ago, telling him if he wants to ask a girl he better hurry before he gets stuck with a dork, because I’m a GOOD MOM. He  knows I’m kidding. Kind of. He said the only girls he would “even ask” are dating someone else right now. Fair enough.

So I asked if he was going as a group, and he sounded just like me when he said, “Tickets are $145 EACH PERSON, that’s a lot for some dance with your friends. There’s some after party, we’ll just go to that.” I didn’t check that pricing, but his plan sounds like a solid plan, right?

Now I’m torn between encouraging him to go, and letting him go with his gut. He’s a guy, and not dating anyone, but then again I can’t help feel his ambivalence is partially my doing. I’m not a guy and I never gave a flying frick about dances and such, I HATE being forced to dress up and act fancy, but people always told me I needed to go to these damn things. 

Especially my senior year, people kept telling me if I didn’t go to senior homecoming and prom I would “regret it.” How true is this, do you think? Is it different for guys vs. girls? I mean STRAIGHT guys, obvy.

I do not have romantic, champagne and taffeta, or even fun and happy memories of my high school dances. Kind of the opposite. I think I skipped senior homecoming, I have no memory or pictures of it, and maybe even junior homecoming after the trauma of my sophomore stupid homecoming. I went with some creepy douche, and it was really awful. 

from treymorgan.net

In class, probably during class, he asked me if I was going and said we should go together. Somehow I agreed.

Turns out if you kind of get along with a guy because you’re both smartasses in class, that does NOT mean you’re going to have fun going out together. 

Even though I already had a dress and didn’t put out any great effort or money, I totally regretted going to that stupid dance. I missed my cousin’s wedding because of it, my family all said THAT was fun, and my night sucked. My “date” -- who again was not a guy I was dating let me just remind everyone -- picked me up super late with a giant HICKEY on his neck. Not from me. Class act.

Also that night he was kind of pedophile-looking and turned out to be a put-your-hands-up-and-point-your-fingers type dancer, and not ironically. 

cityofByroncity.com

The after “party” he took me to was so boring I had to teach/force his few lame friends to play drinking games. They had like a 12-pack of crappy canned beer, so you can guess how much fun that was. I think I was home before 11:00 trying to get a hold of anyone else, and I did not even have a curfew. We had too many kids at this point for my parents to try to keep track of any one of us.

My senior year, when people started telling me I would regret skipping senior prom I seriously doubted it, but junior year? Prom was a bust. I dated eleventy different guys that year, each guy painfully asking me to go, 
‘Should we go as friends?’ 
Yeah NO. 

You should NEVER go anywhere, espesh a formal dance, with your ex. I shouldn’t have to tell you that, AP-class-taking, college-bound guy.

The dude I wound up dating at prom time went to regionals or finals, or state, or whatever the frick you call it when you’re really good at track, what do I know? There wasn't a Sarcasm Team. 

Anyway, he wasn’t going to be back in time. I did go with my friend and her brother and we had a blast, but I wondered if Senior Prom might be more fun with a date. I also learned that the more I force myself to do normal/traditional things, the more I can communicate and relate to normal humans. I’m told this is a good thing. The jury is still out.

Anyhoo, I went to the stupid senior prom. Even though the guy I was dating had already graduated high school two years before. After pressure from my sisters and friends, I told him: “I guess I need to go to my prom. If you don’t want to go, I’ll ask someone else to go as a friend.” For whatever reason, he wanted to go with me. I'm sure it was not at all because I was super slutty. He even rented a tux, even though his mom laughed at him.

I didn’t have to do much, just get the tickets. I had a dress, he had his own car, I never gave a crap about limos, or make-up or nails or tanning or whatever other repairs and landscaping girls do. I don’t know if girls still do this, but seriously at my high school, a lot of the senior class took the WHOLE DAY OFF OF SCHOOL to “get ready” for their prom. 

PLEASE tell me they don’t do this anymore. Parents, PLEASE. TELL. ME. My girls will not do this for their prom. I can already tell you that much.

For my prom? Not only did I go to school that day with the band geeks, I literally had to write myself a note to remember to actually shower and wash my hair that morning so I didn’t forget. Most days I rolled out of bed, usually washed my face to minimize zittage, and brushed my teeth because rotted baby teeth gave me a tooth-brushing OCD thing, threw the hair in a ponytail, grabbed the cleanest looking/smelling clothes off the floor and went to school. Some people found this hilarious, others not so much.

There was one other awesome girl, we used to compare when the last time we washed our hair or shaved our legs was. We would literally walk past each other, point to our hair and she’d say “Wednesday” and I would say “MONDAY!” and she would high-five me. 

HIGHFIVEwrldwde

She always won the leg shaving b/c she was a blond, so she hardly ever shaved, but I usually won the hair washing, or NOT washing actually, competition because I dyed my hair some dark, gothy color, so you didn’t have to wash it very often. Plus my sister taught me to put powder at my scalp if it looked oily, so I only washed it maybe twice a week. Hey, I worked. And played hard. I was uh, busy. Freshman year I went to an all girls school where everyone did this, but this had been (still is,) my regimen for life and I wasn’t changing when I started going to school with dudes. 

Tangets, it's kind of what I do. 

Soooooo, the day of my senior prom, my BFF stopped over in the early evening to see how I was doing. She no doubt knew I would need HELP, bless her heart. She still went to the all-girl school, so her prom was a different night. She found me on the couch watching sitcoms and eating chips. True story. I will share this post with my BFF, Deb, because she always teases me about this. 

She said: “Aren’t you going to get ready? When are you getting picked up?” I probably had no idea, but I knew I should probably slap on some blue mascara, (didn’t have any) tease the shit out of my bands, and promptly hairspray my whole head to a huge helmet. Did I mention it was the 80’s?

I threw on the outfit from my oldest sister’s wedding, unlike most bridesmaids dresses it was actually pretty cool. I wore the crap out of that dress, and like a drunk idiot I left it in the hotel room. Of course they “never found it” which sucked ass, making me think maybe I should not have even bothered with stupid senior prom.

It was really pretty boring. We went, we danced, we got the obligatory pictures. Good thing too, we captured my timeless Mall Wall, and "fancy hair" which was the only hair trick I knew: Throw in a low ponytail and wrap a velvet ribbon around it. Pretty flippin sweet. Even better? My boyfriend at that time had a killer long blonde mullet. I should see if I can find that picture, it’s pretty radical. The mullet I mean, the prom felt fake and lame.

I didn’t know where my friends were, hold on to your SIM cards, kids, this was before cell phones you see. If you didn’t make a solid plan for something ahead of time, you were fucked and forced to entertain yourself. Not being a planner is probably how I learned to be so damn entertaining.

A lot of people had said they were going OUT to dinner instead of eating the dinner the ticket paid for. I was cheap back then, too, so if I paid for a dinner? I ate it. We sat a table with rando people from my classes, had a boring chicken ala blah-blah and we just kept asking each other “Why are we here again?” After pictures and dinner, we danced a few dances, made like a tree and got the fuck out of there. Ok, rope it back to the subject at hand, Tangelica.

Now maybe I would have regretted not going, or at least wondered what it was like, who knows, but I didn’t really give a crap about it. And I had a boyfriend. By my son’s logic, it’s a dance and dinner for couples, and there isn’t anyone he feels that way about, at least anyone that is single, so why should he go? That’s some solid logic. My gut says let HIM make the call. But that may very well be because I have to argue with him about e-HEV-erything, and I’m just so tired.

I am torn. Do you have any thoughts on this? Am I terrible mother if I just let him go the after party and be done?

I hope I have the energy to encourage my baby girls to go if they are on the fence about it. I already don’t want them to go and one is still potty training and the other is in diapers. And no, I don’t plan on NOT potty training the baby just so no one asks her out. I’m pretty sure her Bully-ass personality will take care of any potential suitors.

Lola, the 3 yr old Drama Queen on the other hand? Oy. That just might push me fully into Rehab.

I picture her prom to be something between this:

 

ibeatyou.com

And this:

from screenpicks.com

You guys will help me through it, right?

_____________________________________

*p.s. when I search for images to eye-punch my point home, I find the FUNNIEST shit on the internets. 

http://www.gurl.com/2013/04/09/freshman-vs-senior-high-school-gifs/

I get it. I KNOW.

If you are a fan of comedy, and/or my usual reDICKulous sarcastic stylings, and not so much the serious side, let me save you 2 minutes: This post is not for you. I am not myself this week. That is to say, I am my SERIOUS self. Which is boring and reflective. Barf. 

This week has me troubled. Trouble in the news, beyond normal every day human trouble, senseless bombings in Atlanta, trouble in Texas, troubling Senate conclusions, troubling flooding in the Midwest, including one of the worst possible phrases I have ever heard: “sink hole.” *Shudder* 

I don’t need to bring up bad news again, I know. We get more than we need from the media, over and over and over and over. I know.

I had to avoid social media, and at some point ALL media this week, to save my sanity. I’m not sure why people need to broadcast the same stories over and over, and show pictures of the victims over and over. I know what happened. I saw those horrible images on the news, I will never forget them. 

I didn’t kill anyone, why do I need to see those images over and over. I know. 

I know it’s a tragedy, I know. 

I know that sweet little boy was amazing, he was EIGHT. I don’t need you to remind me. I know.

from reubenminer.blogspot.com

Why do the media, and every PERSON on social media feel the need to rehash horrible events and images, over and over and over. I KNOW DAMNIT. 

I have a television, and internet access, and radio. I know what happened. STOP posting horrible images over and over and over. I know. The good people KNOW.

Chances are you’re not reaching the bad people. And they don’t know these are bad images, because they are BROKEN, or they wouldn’t have done this in the first place. By reposting, rebroadcasting, you’re only feeding their need right now for the wrong kind of fame. You’re beating good people over the head with horrible images, and we already know. WE KNOW.

Stop telling me these people are cowards. I know.

Stop telling me to love my children. I do.

Stop telling me to hold them close because someone else can’t. I know.

I don’t need a reminder that this time goes by fast. I know.

I don’t need you to tell me that my life and their lives are precious. I know.

But those are just humans, having human responses to other human behavior. It’s easier for me to leave the party, than try to tell any other human beings how to behave. I know that too.

But LIFE on the other hand? I’d like to grab that bastard by the short and curlies and tell it:

Stop reminding me how short life is. I know.

STOP teaching me awful lessons about human behavior. I know.

Stop reminding me that everyone has their own struggle. I know.

Stop showing me every day how fast my babies grow up. I KNOW.

Stop giving me reasons to clutch them and never let them out of my sight.

Stop teaching me through HORRIBLE EXAMPLES of how wrong a human being can go. I KNOW!

Look at my past, don’t you think I KNOW THAT by now for fuck’s sake?

Do you think I try to overcome my horrible self and be kind to strangers and the homeless and bratty spoiled kids and typically annoying human beings who do the same shitty things over and over and emotionally unstable lunatics because I LIKE IT? No. I do it because I am also a human and I am also flawed and before I tried to be a better person, there were people that were kind to me.

I didn’t know why they were kind, I didn’t understand the circle, but I do now. I know.

I know that if I am kind to people, even when they annoy the shit out of me, hell especially when they annoy the shit out of me, they may eventually start to get it, and be kind to others, and it will grow from there. I know.

I get it, okay? So just STOP with the awful terribleness already. 

Lighten up a little and let us enjoy the day.