The Dessert Theory

I've been married for almost ten years now, but I have lots of relationship advice to give you poor young ladies who are going through all the trials of dating. Our society, through the media of trashy romance novels and Lifetime movies, has ruined any chance of a woman having a "normal" relationship. I like to refer to this "brainwashing" as "The Dessert Theory".

In a typical romance novel/movie, the plot usually goes as follows: 1.)Girl meets boy 2.)They fall helplessly in love 3.)They get "comfortable" with one another 4.)They begin to drift apart 5.)The girl at least has the satisfaction of knowing that the guy is pining away...wishing only that she would return to him. She is left with the comfort of knowing that he will be there waiting for her if/when she decides that she wants to "give it another shot".

Well, ladies, I don't think I'm alone in saying, "WTF happened to #5!!!"

This is where the "Dessert Theory" comes into play.

To men, we women are like their favorite dessert. For the sake of argument, we'll just refer to ourselves as "pie". Men really like pie. They probably try all different kinds of pie until they find their favorite. They like having their favorite pie more and more, until it's the only kind of pie that they want.

They like having pie. They don't want it at their house all the time, but they like to keep in on hand when they're in the mood for it. Pie is sweet, and they enjoy it's comfort.
Then, after awhile, they begin to realize that they're getting tired of pie. They don't really say anything, because, after all, some dessert is better than no dessert. Besides, there doesn't seem to be anything else on the menu. As the desire to have pie begins to wane, the relationship slowly dies. Pie is cast aside.

At first, he might think about pie from time to time...miss it occasionally. Then it happens. He meets Jello on the Internet. He can have Jello any time he wants, without the excess baggage that he had to carry around after having pie. All the goodness, without the guilt. Things were so complicated with pie...but in his life, "there is always room for Jello" (*registered trademark). Besides...he likes the way Jello wiggles when she walks.

He bumps into pie later. Pie foolishly expects that he has been craving her in his absence. But, all he can do is go on and on about how great Jello is! Pie calls him in a pathetic attempt to rekindle his hunger...but he doesn't return pie's calls. He has become totally loyal to Jello!
He talks about all of us to his friends on occasion...never anything good. "Pecan was totally nuts...Lemon Meringue turned out to be a tart...Key Lime was too bitter...and Mincemeat - I don't even want to talk about Mincemeat!"

But, Jello...in her light and simple perfection...was his ultimate choice.

Damn, I hate Jello!!

Cleaning Out The Refrigerator

It's been awhile. I've been really busy lately. (imagine that!) I'm sure you've all been waiting, rapt in feverish anticipation, for me to get to my computer and pound out yet another brilliant blog post. (Yeah...I know...it's a stretch.) Anyway, Here it is....hold your applause.

It's crazy, isn't it? I spend most of my life wishing I had more time to accomplish the things I need to do... but when I find a few minutes of unscheduled time... I can't really focus on anything, and I don't get anything done.

I need to clean out the refrigerator. I open the door and look inside. I see the stacks of food storage containers (oh, how I hate those blasted things!) and I shut the door. I know that the moldy Chinese from last month and the Mexican from two weeks ago should really go in the garbage. I know that the French fries from two nights ago (who really eats those things cold, anyway, ) and the Italian from Tuesday should probably be on the flip side of a Hefty bag by now. But, somehow I can't bring myself to disturb the cultural balance of my Frigidaire. Would clearing out my fridge be merely an act of good housekeeping, or could it be viewed as an unfeeling act of ethnic intolerance? (Pretty deep, huh?) After all, I have no intention of tossing out that perfectly good pack of Kraft American Singles.

Maybe I'm just putting off the cleanup because I dread scrubbing and cleaning all those hellish food storage containers. Who invented those gawd-awful things anyway? They always have all those intricate little nooks and crannies in them that hold onto the crusty remnants of "dinners gone wild" with uncanny tenacity. I just want to throw the entire container in the trash. But, I can't, because if I do, when my mom comes over for dinner she'll say, "you really should save this roast...where are all those cute little containers you had last time I was here?" Then I'll have to explain my unhealthy aversion to the little plastic buggers... and she'll recommend a good therapist... and I'll tell her I don't need a therapist... and we'll argue about my mental health.... and the whole evening will be ruined. (Sigh!)

Anyway... I decided to put off cleaning out the fridge.

So here I sit. Rambling on about virtually nothing to my virtual audience. Wow....how sad. Maybe I should get a goldfish or something?

Well, I think the baby is starting to stir from his nap. Finally, something for me to do that doesn't involve cleaning disgusting ooze out of little nooks and crevices! (SNIFF.....SNIFF.....eeewwww!) Well....maybe there will be "crevice cleaning" in my near future, after all! "I've got the Huggies, and I'm on my way, little darling!" (Sigh.)

Until next time...