Ah, the 11th installment of the More Than Random Alphabet of SRH. Since Wifey is in town today, I have defaulted to the normal “randomly ask Wifey for a letter” method of letter generation. Today’s letter ended up being “W.” The 23 rd letter, W, is one of the later additions to our alphabet. It was added to denote the soft “V” sound which makes me wonder why it is not referred to as “doubleV, but that is beside the point.
W: W… w… w… Willy Waterloo is washing Warren Wiggens who is washing Waldo Woo
(Who said Dr. Seuss wasn’t into the homoerotic subtext?)
Hmmmm… Sometimes I think that Wifey is a bit on the self serving side of things. I think after she saw me do “P is for Progeny,” she figured W would be for Wifey. Well, she is incorrect. W in my world stands for Wendigo.
The Wendigo is a Native American mythological creature that is much like the yeti or sasquatch or Bigfoot. It is a large furry bipedal creature known to inhabit the mountainous wilds of North America. These creatures are distinctly different from yetis, sasquatches, and bigfeet due to their penchant for human flesh…
Oh, who am I kidding. W really is for Wifey. We got married almost 10 years ago, in fact this September will be our 10th anniversary. We were young kids at the time; the tender age of 23 without many real cares in the world. Well, I guess we cared about things like “where should we order pizza from tonight?” and “How late should we sleep in this morning”, but those aren’t really “cares”, per se.
But much like I did not belabor you with tales of Little Man, I also shall not regale you with tales of Wifey. Instead, I will focus on a few things that have changed in my life due to Wifey’s influence.
I learned to communicate my feelings better: Being married to an ex-therapist has its upsides and its downsides. While she will give me a quick-fire psychological profile of my friends and really nail their true selves to the wall with her clinical eye (hilarious upside), she sometimes will use those very skills against me (unfortunate downside). She often makes me really think about my motivations and what feelings are causing me to do various actions. She is typically 80-90% correct, but you did not hear that from me.
I learned that buying clothes that fit will make you look better: She introduced me to the idea that clothes that fit were not only comfortable, but that they were also more aesthetically pleasing. She has me wearing clothes that fit and make me seem like I am in a state of relative physical fitness, instead of shoving myself into pants that are too small and make me look like a be-panted sausage. She has helped me to get a more accurate self body image than I had before, and more than that she has helped me to accept what that image is with a small bit of grace. That is one of the greatest trivial life-lessons she has taught me.
I have learned that cheese is really over-rated: Wifey hates cheese; therefore most meals at Casa del SRH are cheese-less affairs. You know what? I don’t really feel like I am missing anything at all. We still cook tasty meals with a full bouquet of flavors and aromas. Since close to eliminating cheese from my diet, I have noticed how many people rely on cheese to make the meal. It is a culinary crutch, in my opinion. I know that there are a boat-load of you jokers out there who are going to come to the defense of cheese and insinuate that I have never had really “good” cheese. That may be true, but good cheese, as I understand it from the connoisseurs, is supposed to stand on its own not become a bland “sauce” to be slathered over some kind of breaded chicken.
I have learned to love who I am: I don’t necessarily know why, but Wifey fell in love with me. She has spent the past 12 years teaching me that I am worth loving. Because she loves me, I can love myself, but not in that way, you gutter dwelling porn fiends! I mean I guess I could still love myself that way, but that was not what I was getting at. Great, now I am flustered.
To recap:
It looks like Little Man likes painting pictures that in coloring book
He is surprisingly good
He will also body surf down our neighbors bank
He’s surprisingly good at that, too
I am not sure what will be for dinner tonight
It will not be cheesy though
Wendigo’s are not as scary as vampire bears, but you might not want to meet one.
Have a great weekend everyone
If you are in the States, have a great extended weekend but be safe
W: W… w… w… Willy Waterloo is washing Warren Wiggens who is washing Waldo Woo
(Who said Dr. Seuss wasn’t into the homoerotic subtext?)
Hmmmm… Sometimes I think that Wifey is a bit on the self serving side of things. I think after she saw me do “P is for Progeny,” she figured W would be for Wifey. Well, she is incorrect. W in my world stands for Wendigo.
The Wendigo is a Native American mythological creature that is much like the yeti or sasquatch or Bigfoot. It is a large furry bipedal creature known to inhabit the mountainous wilds of North America. These creatures are distinctly different from yetis, sasquatches, and bigfeet due to their penchant for human flesh…
Oh, who am I kidding. W really is for Wifey. We got married almost 10 years ago, in fact this September will be our 10th anniversary. We were young kids at the time; the tender age of 23 without many real cares in the world. Well, I guess we cared about things like “where should we order pizza from tonight?” and “How late should we sleep in this morning”, but those aren’t really “cares”, per se.
But much like I did not belabor you with tales of Little Man, I also shall not regale you with tales of Wifey. Instead, I will focus on a few things that have changed in my life due to Wifey’s influence.
I learned to communicate my feelings better: Being married to an ex-therapist has its upsides and its downsides. While she will give me a quick-fire psychological profile of my friends and really nail their true selves to the wall with her clinical eye (hilarious upside), she sometimes will use those very skills against me (unfortunate downside). She often makes me really think about my motivations and what feelings are causing me to do various actions. She is typically 80-90% correct, but you did not hear that from me.
I learned that buying clothes that fit will make you look better: She introduced me to the idea that clothes that fit were not only comfortable, but that they were also more aesthetically pleasing. She has me wearing clothes that fit and make me seem like I am in a state of relative physical fitness, instead of shoving myself into pants that are too small and make me look like a be-panted sausage. She has helped me to get a more accurate self body image than I had before, and more than that she has helped me to accept what that image is with a small bit of grace. That is one of the greatest trivial life-lessons she has taught me.
I have learned that cheese is really over-rated: Wifey hates cheese; therefore most meals at Casa del SRH are cheese-less affairs. You know what? I don’t really feel like I am missing anything at all. We still cook tasty meals with a full bouquet of flavors and aromas. Since close to eliminating cheese from my diet, I have noticed how many people rely on cheese to make the meal. It is a culinary crutch, in my opinion. I know that there are a boat-load of you jokers out there who are going to come to the defense of cheese and insinuate that I have never had really “good” cheese. That may be true, but good cheese, as I understand it from the connoisseurs, is supposed to stand on its own not become a bland “sauce” to be slathered over some kind of breaded chicken.
I have learned to love who I am: I don’t necessarily know why, but Wifey fell in love with me. She has spent the past 12 years teaching me that I am worth loving. Because she loves me, I can love myself, but not in that way, you gutter dwelling porn fiends! I mean I guess I could still love myself that way, but that was not what I was getting at. Great, now I am flustered.
To recap:
It looks like Little Man likes painting pictures that in coloring book
He is surprisingly good
He will also body surf down our neighbors bank
He’s surprisingly good at that, too
I am not sure what will be for dinner tonight
It will not be cheesy though
Wendigo’s are not as scary as vampire bears, but you might not want to meet one.
Have a great weekend everyone
If you are in the States, have a great extended weekend but be safe
Labels: History of SRH, the 26, Wifey
8 Comments:
although i love cheese, i completely agree with you that people use it way too much in cooking. most restaurants, especially, overuse it. it takes away from any potential flavor the dish could have.
really good cheese, does in fact, stand on it's own and does not need to be slathered all over whatever dish is being served.
unless we're talking about pizza. then, bring on the cheese.
Karen:
Good to hear that you are up and about.
srh,
i was actually flat on my back when i typed that.
:D
Karen:
Where was the keyboard?
on my belly. laptop, baby. :)
Karen:
I was thinking wireless keyboard and flat panel monitor on the ceiling. I am less impressed now. Less impressed indeed.
have you considered that it would be hard to read the screen if it was all the way up on the ceiling? yeah, i bet you hadn't.
Karen:
One word for you: BUNK BED
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