Stuck on Stupid

Aly and I had a fight last night. More I was being a jerk and she went to bed and we didn’t resolve it until this morning when I swallowed my pride and texted her. And when we saw each other again we were back to our old selves. Now what caused this Male PMS that I lost a whole night of quality time and closeness with my beloved. I could be truthful and say I don’t really know and I could be just as truthful and say I had good reason and yet if I were going to be entirely truthful I would say sometimes we let our own issues and perspective cloud our judgment. I said entirely truthful, not entirely forthcoming.

I will give you this: we all see the world through our own little distorted piece of coke bottle (Sorry Pepsi, but I have to drink diet now, and hands down, Diet Coke tastes better). Invariably misunderstandings come into existence based on simple misconceptions; misconstruing events happen with the help of someone’s perception or bias or dare I say it: by virtue of their own narcissism. Get out the dictionary kids, here, let me save you some time: ‘inordinate fascination with oneself; excessive self-love; vanity.’ Hey, there’s no shame in not knowing, everybody has to look up a word for the first time sometime. And if you did know, I still find it’s best to look up words, you’d be surprised how wrong you can be on the exact meaning of a word.

Anyways, as I was saying, people ruin perfectly good relationships of all kinds: from personal to business, because of something they perceive in their own minds. And often the mind distorts one’s perception of reality as a result of some fear of commitment, a self-involved loathing, random rumours, etc.. The mind is constantly plays tricks on your perception: all of the sudden a nose is 100 times more crooked, an ear a 1,000 times more ghastly, routine like habits precipitously and unbearably annoying and an everyday deed abruptly villanized ergo we feel ourselves slighted by the dumbest things…

…I can see your little wheels turning, wondering, curious to what brought out that blue little monster within (why blue? because I like the color, cookie monster blue especially).

*Laughs and takes a swig of my Diet Cherry Dr. Pepper* Variety is the spice of life.

And as I always find myself saying, back to the matter at hand (Yes, I just ignored your silly inquiries). How do I stop myself from dwelling on the random thoughts of badness or like Mom always said, “stop being stuck on stupid.” My mom really never said that but I’m sure somebody’s did. My only answer is something that brought me out of my funk this morning, a little too late after I kissed my wife on the cheek like a heel and went out the door in a huff. I started to let myself swim in the vast experience of goodness that is my wife and let go of the infinitesimal nothingness I had a death grip on. Or as the Beatles famously intoned, I just ‘Let it be, let it be, whisper words of wisdom, let it be.’ And not long after that, my wondrous wife texted me this, ‘We are coming for lunch at noon. The world is not right when we are not right. I love you.’ And as I closed my phone I could feel that old cliche about to leave my lips, “What were we even fighting about?”

Hence Philippians 4:8 turns out to be good advice after all, ‘Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things.’ It’s hard to stop yourself midstride as your riding that colossal roller coaster, stuck on stupid, but if you can, life is so much more grand.

That is all.

Has health care ever been so cruel?

My wife just texted me and usually I find these instances of electronic communication to be utterly blissful . . . usually. This text message read, “No sexy time.” Now, don’t go jumping to conclusions, assuming makes a, well you know, out of you and me. We are as lovely dovey as ever, we still make people want to puke for the happiness we bring one another.

Thereupon, why, this message of doom through my portal into the cellular world? She went to the doctor today for her six week check up, we just had a baby, and she was going to get an IUD put in. For those of you who aren’t in the know, that’s instant sexy time sans the babymaking. But the Doc said it was too dangerous at this point and could make a hole in her uterus. Things like this make me wonder about modern medicine, it will make a hole in her wha? Seriously!?! Basically, her uterus isn’t up to par yet after being stretched like sugar in a taffy machine.

It’s been a little over six weeks, that truly is forever in guy time (though not as if my wife isn’t feeling the itch), and the Doc just sent her along her unmerry little way with the ring. The ring is a weekly method of control that you, well, I won’t go into details. Though this method is not the instant sexy time. To my horror, in my wife’s second text message of doom, it’s one cycle later sexy time. After which I got on the phone and called her in testosteronic panic (is that even a word, no, but you can’t fault me for not exactly being able to think straight at this moment). So here we are: danged if we do and danged if we don’t. And I love my three boys, but another dang at this moment might kill me. And that makes me wonder again about modern medicine, why the heck does this one take so long to work when the other one is miraculously instantaneous!?! Can’t they use the old boy scout method and rub those two together so my wife and I can feel the heat. Ok, that was funny, come on, lighten up and laugh at my pain.

My wife, trying to console me in my distress offered up the old prophylactics. I’ve heard of this phenomenon: married people using rubbers. They do have a wide and varied assortment of them in varied and assorted stores near you. But man, the whole point is being intimate with my wife, not a varied piece of latex, silicone and or sheepskin. Yah, way too easy and a little disturbing . . . moving along. And so, for the next five weeks of eternity those are my choices. Has health care ever been so cruel?