The post where I reveal that I'm a vain jerk...
It's a very different experience going to the bar with your husband than with your boyfriend (not another man--I mean, the man that was once your boyfriend and is now your husband). First of all, you can't just cocoon him all to yourself, you have to share him with others...particularly his friends...who, at times, feel that you (evil wench that you are) have stolen their comrade. Sorry boys, I have a vagina, and that is power. So you sit at the bar with your friends and you sit at the bar with his friends and you talk, and you have a lot of fun and you drink a lot of beer...
...but then you realize something shocking to the party girl within. You'd be just as happy, at home, snuggling on the couch with your husband, maybe sipping a few beers, maybe reading a good book or watching a good movie with his strong arms wrapped around you and keeping you warm and safe. I squelched these mature, adult thoughts with mind fuzzing shots and beer but the thoughts remained. I'm not saying I didn't have a good time, I most certainly did, but wow...as I keep saying, things have changed--all for the better.
The second thing I learned is that I have no idea what kind of woman my husband finds attractive! Like all humans, you still find other people attractive...it's just when you're married, you don't act upon those feelings of attractiveness. So when a good looking girl or guy walks into the bar we confer on their hotness and supply the "Yoat" when it's warranted (Yoat is a term my boy and his friends have created as a salutation to hot people and to each other...It's kind of like a "Yo what up?" kind of phrase. I used to find it ever so annoying but somehow it invaded my vernacular as well and I find myself muttering it under my breath when someone hot walks by). So, you can imagine my surprise when a girl who's super cute with a button nose, blond hair, green eyes, cute perky breasts and perfect little body walks by and John's lips don't even begin to pucker and form a yo... Instead, he swivels his head at a slightly chubby, dark haired girl with a funny looking expression on her face and a full leg brace/stabilizer and elbows me and bellows out "Yoat!" to her. Apparently, my husband finds sexiness in flaws...all the better for me...I'm severely flawed.
Jumping on a tangent here...
You all know I'm vain right?? I'm vain, like super, super vain, it's one of my least attractive qualities. When I was little I used to get in trouble for just staring at myself in the mirror all the time--yeah, I know--it was that bad. When I was in college, I took this psych class where it was explained that people of like attractiveness are attracted to each other. Very simple right? So if you're a solid 7 and a half, you're expected to be attracted to another solid 7 and a half...you're less likely to be rejected and you'll be a perfect match (obviously, this theory has flaws since it doesn't include personality, it's only based on physical attractiveness. We've all met 10's who are more boring than earth worms and their attractiveness level falls somewhere below 0 degrees kelvin). From that moment on, I thought to myself any time a 4 hit on me, "Am I a 4??" (again, I know I sound like a jerk...and I'm sorry. Don't hate me because I'm insipid sometimes). I'm proud to say, that I've finally gotten over it, a solid 9 and a half married me...me, a solid 7 and a half--I mean, if we include personality and my ability to crack horrible jokes that no one laughs at, I'm clearly an 11. But he's not really a 9 and a half, he's a total individual not a number, with a personality, flaws and total loveability...something that that scale and theory declined to acknowledge...and I guess so did I.
My mom put it best a couple of weeks ago when she said, "So...are you happy now M?? You finally got the popular guy..." She said it as a joke but there was a little truth the question...there were times that I was seeking out people, simply because they were HOTT and their hottness, in my blessedly stupid mind transferred to me...because if they were hot, I was hot...isn't that what I learned in psych??? (Oh lordy, I'm an idiot *slapping forehead realizing her stupidity, and realizing why this blog is peppered with names of jerks*) I am happy, not because I got the popular guy (which good lord I did...people line up at the bar to talk with him as if they're standing in line to get blessed by the Pope) but because I got the best guy--and now my inner scarred nerd can stop trying to get the cool boy to like me...because he does.
Ok. I'm done my tangent now. Tomorrow's our wedding reception, we should have lots of fun stories to tell because our friends are all a bunch of drunken buffoons and there will be hilarity and quite likely fist fights to regale you with.
...but then you realize something shocking to the party girl within. You'd be just as happy, at home, snuggling on the couch with your husband, maybe sipping a few beers, maybe reading a good book or watching a good movie with his strong arms wrapped around you and keeping you warm and safe. I squelched these mature, adult thoughts with mind fuzzing shots and beer but the thoughts remained. I'm not saying I didn't have a good time, I most certainly did, but wow...as I keep saying, things have changed--all for the better.
The second thing I learned is that I have no idea what kind of woman my husband finds attractive! Like all humans, you still find other people attractive...it's just when you're married, you don't act upon those feelings of attractiveness. So when a good looking girl or guy walks into the bar we confer on their hotness and supply the "Yoat" when it's warranted (Yoat is a term my boy and his friends have created as a salutation to hot people and to each other...It's kind of like a "Yo what up?" kind of phrase. I used to find it ever so annoying but somehow it invaded my vernacular as well and I find myself muttering it under my breath when someone hot walks by). So, you can imagine my surprise when a girl who's super cute with a button nose, blond hair, green eyes, cute perky breasts and perfect little body walks by and John's lips don't even begin to pucker and form a yo... Instead, he swivels his head at a slightly chubby, dark haired girl with a funny looking expression on her face and a full leg brace/stabilizer and elbows me and bellows out "Yoat!" to her. Apparently, my husband finds sexiness in flaws...all the better for me...I'm severely flawed.
Jumping on a tangent here...
You all know I'm vain right?? I'm vain, like super, super vain, it's one of my least attractive qualities. When I was little I used to get in trouble for just staring at myself in the mirror all the time--yeah, I know--it was that bad. When I was in college, I took this psych class where it was explained that people of like attractiveness are attracted to each other. Very simple right? So if you're a solid 7 and a half, you're expected to be attracted to another solid 7 and a half...you're less likely to be rejected and you'll be a perfect match (obviously, this theory has flaws since it doesn't include personality, it's only based on physical attractiveness. We've all met 10's who are more boring than earth worms and their attractiveness level falls somewhere below 0 degrees kelvin). From that moment on, I thought to myself any time a 4 hit on me, "Am I a 4??" (again, I know I sound like a jerk...and I'm sorry. Don't hate me because I'm insipid sometimes). I'm proud to say, that I've finally gotten over it, a solid 9 and a half married me...me, a solid 7 and a half--I mean, if we include personality and my ability to crack horrible jokes that no one laughs at, I'm clearly an 11. But he's not really a 9 and a half, he's a total individual not a number, with a personality, flaws and total loveability...something that that scale and theory declined to acknowledge...and I guess so did I.
My mom put it best a couple of weeks ago when she said, "So...are you happy now M?? You finally got the popular guy..." She said it as a joke but there was a little truth the question...there were times that I was seeking out people, simply because they were HOTT and their hottness, in my blessedly stupid mind transferred to me...because if they were hot, I was hot...isn't that what I learned in psych??? (Oh lordy, I'm an idiot *slapping forehead realizing her stupidity, and realizing why this blog is peppered with names of jerks*) I am happy, not because I got the popular guy (which good lord I did...people line up at the bar to talk with him as if they're standing in line to get blessed by the Pope) but because I got the best guy--and now my inner scarred nerd can stop trying to get the cool boy to like me...because he does.
Ok. I'm done my tangent now. Tomorrow's our wedding reception, we should have lots of fun stories to tell because our friends are all a bunch of drunken buffoons and there will be hilarity and quite likely fist fights to regale you with.
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