So, I’m still extremely new to this living in the same house and sharing the same bedroom full time thing. Not that it’s bad.  Actually, it’s quite nice being able to reach over in the night and play with his hair or crawl across the bed and give him a light little kiss while he’s sleeping. 

What is taking some definite time to get used to is the fact that his alarm clock is a screamer!  When I say screamer, I don’t mean one of those annoying buzzer sounding things.  I mean it’s an indescribable sound that has rattled my ass awake a 4:45 in the morning.  Not only does it rattle my ass awake, the clock actually grows legs, walks around the bed to my side, shakes the piss out of me, picks me up and drops me right in the middle of the bedroom.

Now, I’m not a morning person by any means.  It really doesn’t matter if I get 4 or 8 hours of sleep.  But when that damn thing goes off before the chickens are even awake, that’s a problem for me.  Especially since his ass doesn’t get up when it goes off the first time.  No.  He slaps the snooooze button like 6 times.  So, six times I get picked up and dropped on my ass in the middle of the floor before daylight.  What the hell?  We are gonna have to find an empass.  A new alarm clock, maybe?  Setting the bitch a little later instead of hitting snooooooze so many times, maybe?

Anyway, so he finally wakes up after the 7th roar of the alarm.  I’m wide awake already.  Sitting up in bed, smoking a ciggie, waiting for coffee to get done. Me and the cat staring at him, daring him to hit snooooze again. Thank Jesus, no more snooooze button. 

He rolls over, smiles all sweet and says, “Honey, I know I complain alot.”

“What’s the matter?”  I ask in the sweetest 5am voice I can muster.

“Well, I woke up and had to pull this out of my ass.”  He says as he hands the DVD player remote to me laughing his ass off.

God bless his little heart. I love him so much.  Maybe this is the answer to my being late to work every day.  If I’m dropped in the floor and wide awake by 5am, surely I can make it work work on time by 8:30?
 

My attention was drawn to a NEWSFLASH today, that apparently isn’t such new news.

One of my three alltime favorite bands is reuniting for a reunion tour!!!

Who?

Why, none other than Van Halen. With the exception of base player Michael Anthony, all of the boys will be crankin out the tunes that made ’em famous. Eddie Van Halen’s son, Wolfgang, will be providing the bone thumpin bass now.

As long as David Lee Roth sticks to the songs and doesn’t try to speak, I will be a happy girl! He has proven time and time again that he is a complete dip-shit, but buddy can he belt out the songs.

I’m sitting here having flashbacks to those wonderful days in the early – mid 80’s in which Van Halen ruled the radio waves…

Tour information… www.van-halen.com  

My darling Anthony has agreed to take one for the team, change up our honeymoon plans, and take me to Greensboro to see them rather than going somewhere tropical or beach like.

All I have to say is, for $125 floor seats, I better get to hear ICE CREAM MAN!

Everybody who knows me personally knows I am not shy, I am not quiet. I am not backward when it comes to expressing emotion. In other words, I am the complete opposite of my Anthony.

Anthony is shy and quiet. He would rather sit quietly somewhere and observe what’s going on instead of being what’s going on. Opposites truly do attract. Our tastes and personalities couldn’t be more different.

I like top 40, rock, southern rock… He is a bluegrass musician.

I like karaoke bars…. He’d rather be somewhere listening to a live band.

I like sushi & other exotic foods…He’d rather have Burger King or Taco Bell.

I drive like my pants are on fire… He takes his time a & enjoys the scenery.

The differences are many, but the love is the same.

Anyhoo… Anthony wasn’t 100% sure about me in the beginning. I think he had been convinced by various mutual acquaintances that I was a complete wild cat and was one to be reckoned with. That, my friends, is just an act.

Still yet, he was gun shy of me enough that even after he had fallen in love with me, he was skeerd to say it. Rather than saying it, everytime he’d come around, he’d have another CD for me and he’d tell me “listen to #8” or whatever number the specific song would be. All of these songs would be lovey-dovey, oooey-goooey ditties. I got the message really fast and eventually he gave in and told me how much he loves me. What’s not to love, right? I just wanted to share the words to a song and the outcome of his profession of love and devotion to me, his Diva.

The song that captured my heart was: You Are My Flower – Flatt & Scruggs – Circa

It goes a little somethin like this:

You are my flower That’s blooming in the mountain so high

You are my flower That’s blooming there for me

When summertime is gone and snow begins to fall

You can sing this song and say to one and all

So wear a happy smile and life will be worthwhile

Forget the tears but don’t forget to smile

Now, ain’t that the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen in your life? What was the outcome of this?   Well, I went and got more ink.   I am his flower, indeed.

In general, women are emo-kids in adult wrappers.  At least I am, and I know alot of other women (my age, younger and older) that are the same way.

Everybody has baggage.  By the time you make it into your mid-30’s, if you don’t have baggage, you must not have been doing a very good job at having a life.  Many folks, men and women, by the mid-30’s have been married, had children and (in many cases) suffered through an ugly divorce or split with a significant other.

I for one have dished out my fair share (if not much, much more) of questions as to whether my significant other really loves me.  I’ve tried to push him away several times, because it’s easier to let go and hurt a little than to really fall in love and get hurt ALOT in the end.

Why did I hit him with the ever present question, “Do you love me?”  “Why do you love me?”????

Because I had a life, a past.  And the experience wasn’t all good.  Not that my life was stricken with hardship on a constant basis, but I was married to a man who had no clue about anything but drugs and video games.   Yes, I chose to stay in it a lot longer than was advised.  Yes, I could have packed up and left.  But, I married him, and I was hellbent to stick with it or die.  He was nice to me when he wanted something from me.  Otherwise, he said little and did even less.

Then I grew up.  I realized it wasn’t healthy and I had to get out.  So, I got out.   But I found out I had trust issues when I finally jumped.  My significant other has NEVER done the first thing to make me think he’s going to hurt or leave me.  He has never done anything but open doors for me and treated me like I am his equal.

Could I accept that?  Simply put, no.

I ass-u-me (d) that there was no man out there that is genuine.  There was no man out there that could really love me, for rowdy old me.  There was no man out there that really would ask how my day went just because he wanted to share a few minutes together after work.  ETC, ETC, ETC…..  the list could go on forever.

A woman wants to be happy with a man.  Companionship, intimacy… yes, please.  But sometimes getting her to accept that not all men are the same is a real challenge, but they also want to be happy with themselves look nice and be relax and use spa services from sites as https://complexcityspa.com help with this. Even if she knows it’s true.  Her past may be a horrible, scary monster that must be slayed before she can go on.  It can be done if there is room to work on these things in the relationship.  If not, it’s doomed, go on.

Men can carry the same baggage, but due to ego and other manly things, it may not be as apparent.

Yes, I too succumb to peer-pressure.  I’ve thought about doing this since Mark started doing it.  (A very trendy guy he seems to have become.)  I finally have overcome the strong urge not post this at all or wait until Tuesday just to go against the grain.  I now will attempt to woo you with my version, (drum roll please,) of my very own:

Monday Melee

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate.

Misuse or overuse of words: like, f*ck, dude, man, buddy and many left unmentioned.  When can we go back to using the words correctly?  Why must we always use euphemistic language to soften the blow?  I say you may not like it but at least you can get the point across.  Besides, life is just too short for that kind of crap.

*close second: OLD NEWS

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.

Beer commercials…  They can’t all be the greatest beer in the world.  There is only room for one beer to have the title.  Unfortunately, I personally don’t think it exists…  I know how I would be if I were a brewer, I’d drink it!!!  This friends, this very occurrence is quite possibly, what may have happened.  A perfect beer probably was created and the brewers got drunk and forgot how to do make it.  To mangle a Tenacious D line, none of this is the greatest beer in the world…  It is just a tribute.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.

My pants…  I can’t them on or off fast enough and they never stay up when I want them to.  (I don’t want to be an ass to the entire world, nor show it to them either.)

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.

Hats off to the woman who convinced me to move to this strange city…  Unfortunately, I still find it very strange and unfortunately unfamiliar.  Nevertheless, I think I like it.  Maybe if it were covered in chocolate or genitalia it would be more enticing.  Maybe I could convince some of my friends would come and visit too…

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.

My insatiable ability to find new ways to amuse myself…  (No Mark and Diva, I already knew why God gave me two hands.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.

Must I really?  Okay…  Love, Sex, Money, Carie, Steady Work, Sex, Happiness (the spelling needs to change to Happenis, because I’ve never been around anyone for long who wasn’t happy a penis was involved), Sex, Food, Love, Love that comes with food, Carie, my friends to be happy even in my abstinence (oops I meant absence…)

Thus is the conclusion of my Monday Melee.  You too can join in the fun by visiting The Monday Melee page and completing the steps.  Kick-start your brains on Mondays, meet other bloggers, and by George have a darn good time too.