isn't it ironic...dont you think?

The media strikes again.

I read today that some Americans (and the GOP cough cough) are upset that President Obama kept his promise to his wife to take her to a Broadway play once the Presidential race was over.

First, let me preface these following thoughts with the fact that I think marriage can be a beautiful and magical ideal and when done right, can make the world a better place through it's love.
Yet we live in a country where marriage only survives (yes, survives, like it's on the reality show in the middle of the Amazonian rainforest) 50% of the time. When that half does actually make it, they are rarely the picturesque love-filled, glowing blossom of light that Ive always dreamed of. Ive always seen on TV in those 80's and 90's sitcoms. In the way my parents were not.

True, reality does set in and makes 'being in love' more difficult than anyone can predict. It makes doing the little things for your other half unimportant and uneventful. It makes figuring out how to pay a bill on a wish and a prayer more of a priority than the person you pledged yourself to for rich or for poor. It makes us come home and cuddle with the couch and our cell phone and our big TVs and our laptops and our ridiculous gadgets, instead of making love and letting your problems just sit for a bit. They aren't going anywhere fast.

Still, that is no excuse for us; as people who love and want to be in love and want to give love and want to see love and want to feel loved. That is no excuse for the way we systematically ignore the welcomed duty of love. Especially making promises to your partner, supporting your partner and reflecting your happiness and bliss back onto your children, onto strangers,onto the world.

So why is it that when our President, who has continually displayed his undying love for his wife, goes out for a "date night" to NY does he get so much slack? Because GM is going bankrupt? Because our country can't balance a check book?

According to some groups, it was a waste of time and energy and focus for Obama to go to NY to have dinner and see a show as he promised to his wife, when the country is in financial turmoil. We've been going bankrupt, been in financial dissaray, been stuck without a pot to piss in. Obama having a night off to spend with the person he pledged his life to under God will not somehow deter him from guiding the free world. Why is it that the first President, in a very long time, who shows affection for his family and actually embodies what we Americans see our 'way' of family and life, gets ridiculed?

It didn't make Clinton loose focus (and we all know that was not his wifey)...

An Ode to Lil Boys

Typically, I enjoy writing about current events. Whats in the news, whats going on in the world or here at home behind the Orange Curtain. However, today, I would like to do something special. Something that has been on my mind and is becoming quite acceptable. I would like to write An Ode to Lil Boys...

No, no. I did not spell that wrong. No, no. You dont need to re-read it.
I meant Lil boys, not little boys.

See - there is a difference.

A BIG difference.

I should know - I have a Lil Boy.

Oddly enough, he is very tall. 6'1 in fact and seemingly grown in stature.
Hmmm.

So it is safe that one understand it isn't his size that makes him Lil.

No, no.

Rather, it is his mindset. His goals. (or lack thereof). His juvinile tendencies to throw tantrums and pout.

Yes, yes. Pout.

His inclination to hold out conversation when things dont go his way. His need to be needy, to be clingy, to want you to stifle your everything for his whims. His fault of unrecepricle attention.

Poor Lil Boys....

See - I am not a mother. Nor a full-time babysitter. And most certainly, I am not a grown-man sitter, whatever that is.

Yet I seem to have attracted a Lil Boy to my side...

I dont know what to do to send this Lil Boy home. Back where he came from. Back out of my life. Back to his momma...hopefully. Im sure she misses him dearly.

Maybe leave him a note: "Dear Lil Boy, We need to talk. I think you should go home."

Maybe text him: "Hey L.B - We nd 2 tlk 4 sure"

Maybe I will just call him: ring...ring...ring. "Hi, you've reached me. I'm not here right now..."

Not here. Not answering. Not responding. Not conversating.

Lil Boy, we need to have an adult conversation right away.

Dont misunderstand; I have fallen in love with my Lil Boy. He is sweet and charming. I adore his humor, his smile, and marvel at his gentle touch. There is a ton about him that is amazing.
Except he's changed...and

It's just...sometimes I think...

What I wouldn't do to trade this Lil Boy in for a Big Kid. For a Big Boy. For a Real Grown Man.
One who cares about me. Wants to truly protect and provide for me like he claims and most importantly, doesn't disrespect me.

Yes, yes. Not listening and caring IS disrespect.

And I would be there for him. I would love to take care of him, to cook him dinner and make him lunch. To leave him notes when he gets home that just say I Love You, and heres a reminder so you never forget. To fold his socks and find the one missing to complete the pair that has been M.I.A for weeks. To suprise him in nothing but a grin...

Sigh.
You can't expect these things from a Lil Boy...and I can't do these things for a Lil Boy.
So the search continues.

In the meantime - I will leave flyers and signs and pass out waivers to anyone I see looking lonely and in need of a playdate...
pssst.
I have a Lil Boy for sale.

Greatness!

This SNL skit with Justin Timerlake and Cast regular Adam is amazing. Creativity like this should be shared...enjoy!

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Moving On Up

I was reading a blog today from a woman who was asking, when, if ever, are you ready to move in with your significant other. The headline itself caught my eye, seeing that recently I (and my (significant other) have made that life changing decision.The article proposed the question of timing, how to deal with family concerns and if pursued, how do you not stagger in that level, but instead progress,perhaps into marriage, a family, etc. While I hadn't thought about all of these things to the extent the author had, they got me thinking about what did occur to me when my beau and I started to call the same place home.It sort of came as a proposition and ingenious idea all wrapped up in a hesitant question. After a year and a half of me driving to his place,living out of my large purses and slowly but steadily taking over the topright drawer of his dresser, we had become very very close and enamored witheach others company. In my own life I had moved 4 times throughout our relationship and always the helpful boyfriend, he thought all the moving wasinsane. True it was. After my family relocated to the east coast, I quickly moved out and in with one roommate near my family home. Things didn't workour and my roommate ended up relocated back up north, so of course, I had tomove. Fast forward 2 other roommates, and an increasingly annoying situationwith my then-current self-proclaimed 'mother' of a roommate and I was just about ready to trudge once more in my nomadic routine. We were sitting together one night, watching Family Guy and sprawled out along the couch when I was discussing the new room for rent sign I had seen earlier. The 'why are you moving again' look crept over his face and I took a deep breathe and prepped myself for the highly rehearsed, but very true, rote speech about how none of the places I had been living felt like a real home.Since my family left, I had never found a place that I felt could be my home and I could feel comfortable roaming around or inviting people over or even cook in the kitchen. Yes ­ my most recent roommate would not allow me to use the oven or the dishwasher and instead banished me to a circa 1900¹s toaster oven that would spark from the outlet when it became too hot ­ any temperature over 375 would do it. He would always see my plight and appease me by simply agreeing and urging me to move. After my one-woman monologue,we both sat in silence for a bit watching TV, and lying atop of his leg, I could feel him flinch. In my boyfriend, this is the sign of an emmerging idea. I have him a second, and like clockwork, he took a big gasp of air,and proceed with, "What do you think about living...together?". I was surprised. Elated, nervous, speechless, and excited also. This seemed right. The timing alone was perfect -­ he himself was in the infancy stages oflooking for a new place, without his messy roommate, since their lease was coming to a close. We both wanted to split expenses and have a cool,'grown-up' place to chill and hang out...why not live together? We left the conversation both pondering the what if's and why not's, but agreed that we would seriously consider the downside and even seek outside counsel­friends- for real life testimony. This was in January. By the middle of February, we were spending every other weekend looking at housing and weighing the pro's and con's of living in Huntington Beach vs. Irvine. We hadn't even fully committed to 'doing it' but it just sort of happened. I moved out of my kitchen-less living situation at the end of February and moved in with him the whole month of March. We found a place and set a moving date for the beginning of April. The place is great ­ bright, airy,tons of space and 2 bedrooms. Yes ­ 2 rooms; dual masters actually. This, I believe, is such a must and a luxury at the same time. We knew we wanted to be together and live together, but seeing as how I like to do my nails in bed while watching reruns of countless reality shows, while he dreams of basketball games in his boxers with cereal by his side, sharing a room for an indefinite period seemed overwhelming. I think it is the best thing for us. Our own space, own sanity, yet his 11 steps away (I have counted) and I'm next to him, in his bed, enjoying our home and us.So to answer the question of WHEN it is a good time to move in with your significant other ­ I don't know. After my whole speech, I still don't know. I do know that this is how it worked out for us and has been going well so far. Just be honest and open about how you live and the expectations you have for the whoever you leave with. Be patient and willing to give each other space. If you cant see yourself falling more in love with this person or wanting to know more and more about them, then moving in maybe a no go for you. Or as my mother told me, "its only a lease ­ 6-2 months tops. You don't like it, move out".