Man-clean

Women everywhere are going to nod their heads along with this blog and know exactly what I am talking about. Men who think they are the exception are going to protest and try and say they are the exception. They are wrong. All the other men will be offended, but don't worry...We aren't laughing at you....we are laughing with you....really.

One of the universal truths is that there is 'man-clean' and 'woman-clean'. This is most evident in single men households because married or cohabiting men likely have a woman going behind and making all the corners 'woman-clean' and the man just doesn't notice. However, if you were to go into a single man's home and venture that it needed a good clean he would likely be confused, thinking it is already clean. But really now...every man's house is simply waiting, begging really, for a woman to come take care of it.

Chet's apartment? No different. The walls whisper to me when I walk in, even lean a little my way like a kitten leans into your body when you pet it - that is how happy they are that a woman has walked in. They want to cuddle and purr on me. As I walk down the hall they offer suggestions; paint us a pretty color, please dust that crazy glass shelving unit, bring in wooden spoons and kitchen gadgets for the lonely kitchen....

Chet is actually, for a man, pretty clean. He understands that when he runs out of clean dishes he needs to wash them. He owns cleaning products and scrub brushes. He half heartedly makes the bed at least half of the time. For a while, he even met my anti-clutter standards. For a little while. So I was hopeful that if I brought home tools for him - he would use them. I set off for Meijers in high spirits on a sunny Saturday afternoon when Chet was at work. I smiled a little as I selected the full size cart because I could just see it full of home organization and heart warming cleaning paraphernalia. I may have even been humming the Mr. Clean jingle as I skipped along the home decor/kitchen aisles. The result of this shopping trip? A towel hamper and laundry basket for the bathroom in the hopes that dirty stuff would be sorted and contained. A dish scrubby brush and drying rack so that we can do dishes as we use them. Pretty, environmental friendly cleaning products - including disinfectant wipes that I go through like candy. (Aren't they seriously the best home cleaning toy invented this decade? Tell me I'm not wrong!)

So I happily loaded up my Jeep with my fun new purchases, headed back to Chet's apartment, and spent my Saturday afternoon cleaning and organizing - anticipating how excited Chet would be to see how smart I was, setting up this easy system for keeping things in the right place. This was the response I got once Chet got home and walked around the apartment for a few minutes: "ummmm....did you buy me a hamper?" Those were the words that were said but here is what they really meant: "ummm....did you really just buy this shiny, new rubbermaid thing and stick it in the corner where I like to pile my towels? It is hurting my eyes to look at it and I don't know if I can pee in the room with it watching me."

I did get a thank you for cleaning the apartment and then he went back off to work, probably grateful to get out before I exposed him to more new-tupperware fumes. Still, I held out hope that he would play nice and make friends with the new toys. Housewives everywhere are laughing at me right now, but I am an optimist. Laugh if you must. And it did half work. When I came over the next day the dirty clothes and towels were sorted into piles......two inches OUTSIDE their respective hampers.

Sex Addiction

Ok- this is a complete spur of the moment blog where I just read something online and wanted to share my opinion. Are you ready???? Here is what I read:

In Wednesday’s 14th season premiere of South Park, “Sexual Healing” (10 p.m. ET, Comedy Central), co-creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone address Tiger Woods and the phenomenon of sex addiction. According to the press release: “The nation’s top scientists come together to put a stop to the recent phenomenon of rich, successful men who suddenly want to have sex with many, many women. After extensive testing, some of the fourth grade boys in South Park Elementary are diagnosed as sex addicts.”

I am not a South Park follower, although it makes me laugh when people get all worked up over it. (It is a tv show people - turn it off if you don't like it! That is why God invented remotes!) However, it amuses me that they are going to mock Tiger's attempt to make entitlement become a medical condition by labeling it 'sex addiction'. It amuses me more because in my past there is a boy who used this exact same excuse for his cheating ways. Although he was not rich, nor successful.

Here is my opinion. Men who claim they are addicted to sex? They might as well just take a permanent marker and write 'weak', 'selfish', and 'stupid' all over their body. That is what is really the problem. It isn't a medical condition - it is a character flaw. The rest of us all learned in kindergarten that you don't get to do whatever you want, whenever you want - maybe they really have a learning disorder instead that kept them from understanding this? Men that claim to be addicted to sex just basically are living for the moment with zero self control, doing what feels good at the time - with no regard to the future or to anyone else. They are trying to justify their behavior with this stupid sex addiction label. Do they realize this makes them sound like bigger idiots? "Oh yeah...I am a cheater...but I can't help it, I'm addicted to sex." Seriously? So now you are a cheater AND an addict. Sweet. Let's just call it like it is guys. You are too weak to stand up to yourself and develop some moral character. You are too selfish to consider anything other than your pleasure for the moment. And you are too stupid to create a better excuse than sex addiction.

Vegas, baby!

Background Information:

1. Chet is away for the weekend with the guys. Apparently they do it every year - so this big group of guys is all up north to spend the weekend gambling, drinking, and telling lies about their sex lives. Testosterone fest - 2010.

2. When Chet drinks, he texts. No drunk dialing for my baby - but I get very chatty, usually sappy, texts from him when he is out drinking without me. He asked me today if they bug me and if he should leave his phone at the hotel - but I love them! They are almost always sweet, amusing, and/or complimentary to me. What is not to like?


With that said, last night I start getting texts around eleven o'clock. Because I am old and weary, I am already tucked into bed on this Friday night so I turn my phone volume way up so as to not miss any of the fun. They start out fairly tame with 'i miss u' and 'can't wait for Detroit' (we are going to Motor City next week) and they get a little sillier and sappier until they end with...."so I say we go to vegas and get married." Even for Drunk Chet, this one is a little out of left field.

Not that marrying Chet is out of left field, or even marrying him in the near future is out of left field. Eloping to Vegas is even just barely in the ballpark. But we haven't even talked about marriage - at all- to this point in our relationship. At least not to each other. My entire network of family and friends talk to me about it all the time, of course, because everyone loves Chet and I together. It is like there is this underground movement working to ensure we end up married. But as a couple, Chet and I just haven't had this conversation. So it is highly amusing, and completely sweet, that it pops up in the middle of a drunk text conversation. I love that he is sitting there in the middle of guy weekend, drinking and gambling with the boys....and thinking about marrying me.