Saturday 11 June 2011

Poor Brian

 
As many of you know, just this past February, Brian and I  got married. Best decision I ever forced upon him. I’ve not had a lot of long term relationships, it’s true. One of the biggest reasons it works between Brian and I is because I was up front with him about the kind of person I was very early on. I can’t emphasize enough to young ladies out there the importance of being who you are with your gentlemen friends, and how he should be comfortable with the real you. I learned this and I found a good man. I told Brian a number of things that were important for him to know if he wanted to be with me:


Even if I say it’s ok you don’t have to buy me a present, you have to buy me a present.



Note Brian's  nakedness.




















I will talk in a funny voice to ALL animals I see on the street, whether or not the owner wants me to.






I will always talk to wait staff and try to get them to like me. I will joke around, try to make them laugh. Always. I inherited this from my father. It’s partly because they are captive. They pretty much have to be at least civil to me, or they risk not getting a tip, or worse, being complained about to management. Just a FYI, don’t worry, wait staff of the world. I will kiss your ass even if you tell me I stink and am fat. I just want to be friends. Temporary friends, to be sure, but I seek your approval as sure as I sought the approval of every hairless, large eyed boy in elementary school.








In restaurants, I never order what I really wanted will be jealous of your food and will demand French fries. If you have a problem with this, order more French fries. I will not order my own.


If something happens in an elevator full of strangers that needs to be commented on, I will make that comment.



I will always want to know if she is fatter than me. There is only one right answer and it changes depending on my mood.

Only I am allowed to talk trash about my dog.

Because I really want people to like me, even though I know not everyone will, I test people. Even though I want people to like me, I go about making them like me in an awkward way. To see if I can get a foothold in someone’s life I ask them questions very soon after meeting them like "Does your pee smell weird after you eat asparagus" or "I can burp the alphabet. How about you?" That kind of thing. Not so much because I care about their answers, but more to see how they react to the question. If they are amused, then I might have a chance. If they are not amused, then I completely change my approach until I beat them into friendship submission. My friends all have a look of resignation about them.


When I first met Brian a friend who knew me well gave me some sage advice on giving the relationship a good chance. They said "Don’t be such a slut right away". I listened. So I was a real lady. On our first date I made it clear that I was certainly NOT going to have sex with him that night, but if waited a few more dates I would be such a freakish whore he wouldn’t know what hit him. He’s still waiting. Sucker.
 

8 comments:

  1. OMG you should be a comedian - love your blog!!

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  2. omg I read this at work (woohoo one thing that isn't blocked!...yet!)I giggle uncontrolably(sp) to the point whatever co-worker and/or students in the library look at me really weird. Middle school is supposed to be a fun place, right?

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  3. That sounds just like Ellen. Good on yah kid someone who is actually honest. Must be those blue genes kicking in. Thanks for the cinder E cd I still prefer Bullet.

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  4. You say what we all think.. awesome!!

    Neeners

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  5. SO true about being yourself right from the get-go. All the phony-ness (apologies to Holden Caufield) gets to be a real big pain in the butt pretty quick. As for the whole courter jester act with waiters and waitresses, I am exactly the same. I figure I might as well make this fun/slightly less monotonous for all of us. God only knows if they appreciate it, but I must admit that I have sometimes tipped less when a waiter was determinedly unamused by my quips. Does that make me horrible?

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  6. Best ever, Ellen. The part about talking to waitstaff: OMG- My Dad does that, too! It must be in the Reid genes or something...

    Tracey

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  7. Priceless. Great advise for the young ladies who are up and coming. There could have so much more to add

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