Monday, November 28, 2011

How my sister single-handedly ruined Mario

Lindsay and I were raised to take care of our own belongings. If we wanted to bring something with us somewhere, we were completely in charge of making sure that belonging came home with us at the end of the trip. It was actually a pretty strict rule in our house. Mom will not carry your shit when you get tired of holding it...so really think about what you are bringing with you.

I still follow the rule out of habit. I don't want to carry other people's shit if I don't have to. Hence the reason I never make Mario carry my purse. I do recall Mario offering once or twice to carry it...I think Miss Ex might have made him carry her purse a time or two, but I immediately declined the offer. If I didn't want to carry it, I shouldn't have brought it.

This is probably the reason I can't stand when girls make their men carry their purses. I understand the quick hold to try something on. I understand you are trying to put your jacket on or have to use the restroom. I do not understand why you own a purse and brought it with you, only to make your man carry it every where for you.You decided to bring that shit...you carry it. If you didn't want to hold it, you shouldn't have brought it. It's amazing how often I see it really.

Now cut to when Mario and I were dating. We had just moved in together and were walking around IKEA looking for storage ideas. I had grabbed one of their great big blue bags for shopping. I had put all the little goodies that we would be purchasing in the bag and decided my purse could also go in the big bag. We were about half way through the store and still had four more hours to go before we made it out safely...doesn't it seem that way at least? It was about this time that Mario noticed that I had been carrying everything. He nicely offered to carry the bag. 
 
I started to hand the bag over, and then paused. "I wouldn't mind not carrying it, but let me get my purse out first."
Mario "It's fine in the bag. I've got it."

I happily handed the bag over and was enjoying the freedom of not having to carry a thing. We strolled around for another ten minutes, when I heard my phone start ringing.

Mario opened the big blue bag for me to search for my phone. Of course, my purse was at the bottom...with lots of crap on top...and tangled in the new towel bar and hooks we would soon be purchasing...I finally got my purse open...pulled out the phone...and answered on the last ring...

Me "Hello?"
Lindsay "Hey, what's going on? Why'd it take so long to answer?"
Me "Oh, we're at Ikea looking around and I couldn't get to my phone"
Lindsay "Why couldn't you get to your phone?"
Me "Does it matter?"
Lindsay "I want to know."
Me "Well, Mario had it in the bag he was carrying"
Lindsay "Mario was carrying your purse?"
I knew where this was headed "He offered to carry the big bag and my purse was in it, so yeah he was carrying my purse."
Lindsay "Laura, take back your purse and hand him back his balls!"

Once that sentence was uttered, the man has since refused to carry or even remotely hold my purse in any way. The universe had changed in his favor and my sister now had his back on something and he was fully going to take advantage of it! He has since avoided my purse like it actually has the ability to remove his balls itself. A simple thing like asking him to hold my purse while I put on my jacket is ridiculous. 

Me "Here can you hold this for a minute, babes?" 
He stares at my purse like it's dirty and covered in blood.
Me "Mario, I just have to put on my jacket. One minute tops. What is the problem?"
He lets out a long dramatic sigh and holds it with one finger making sure to keep it away from his precious balls.
Me "Thank you, honey. I know it takes a little more of your manhood every time you have to touch the purse, but I think you'll live."

To get him to hold my purse while I go to the bathroom is far too much drama. If he does, it's a huge fight. "Mario, there is no place to hang my purse in that bathroom, please hold it for five minutes. I don't want to put it on the ground" I usually get the dramatic, put out, eye roll...followed by something about his shrinking man-hood. If he does hold it, he holds it like it has the plague. I've actually come out of the bathroom to see him holding it away from his body. He's a bit on the dramatic side if you ask me.

He's not really to blame though...I fully blame my sister. He came fully trained in purse holding when I met him. He was totally fine carrying my purse for a minute or holding my purse, before my sister ran her mouth off. She's completely ruined him and there's no going back! If this is men's lib...I want none of it!

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

And Then There's Pay Back

As much as I bug Mario with my dipshits, he pays me back. He has one special way of making me crazy and it never fails.

It's normally after a nice lunch or dinner and I realize that we need to stop by Target for a few essentials. We get our cart. Just start to walk through a few isles. Pick up a few items on the list. That's when it happens.

Mario "We have to go home."
Me "What are you talking about, we just got here"
Mario "We have to go home now."
Me "What's the problem"
Mario leaning in "I have to go to the bathroom. We need to get home."
Me "No way. We just got here. I still have stuff on the list to get. Use the bathroom here"
Mario "Look we have to go home. I can't do this here."
Me "Babe, people do "this" here all the time. Just go use the bathroom."
Mario "I don't like that bathroom. I want to do this at home."
Me "By the time we finish shopping, pay, and drive home, it will be too late. You'll have crapped yourself. Just go to the bathroom."
Mario "If we leave now, I'll be ok."
Me "This is ridiculous. You do this every time we come here."

Sometimes we rush home. Sometimes he relents and just uses the bathroom. But it's the same conversation every. single. time. He knows I like my time at Target. I don't need to look through every isle. I don't need to spend hours there, but I don't want to be rushed by his butt either. Why agree to come here, if you're just gonna need to rush out. And what is it about this place that makes you have to poop?

It was no different this weekend. We had dinner and then headed over to get some desperately needed toothpaste and soap. We had actually made it three quarters of the way through the store, when Mario got his "DOH!" face. I knew it was going to happen.

Mario "We have to go home."
Me "No, you do this every time. Go use the bathroom."
Mario "No, I don't like those bathrooms."
Me "What's the problem? They were just being cleaned when we came in."
Mario "I just don't like to go to the bathroom here."
Me "Go!"
Mario "Fine!"

Mario stomps off....but somehow comes back looking relaxed and happy not more than a few minutes later. He couldn't have made it all the way to the front of the store and finished his business. Don't tell me he crapped himself. He must have seen the look on my face.

Mario "If I keep moving, I don't have to go to the bathroom anymore"
Me "Are you kidding me?"
Mario "No, if I keep walking at a certain speed, I don't have to poop"
Me "That's ridiculous"

I pretty much spent the rest of the time puttering around trying to find out how slow I needed to go to torture him. I'd distract him in the kitchen department with cool gadgets...then wait for the "OH! Gotta move. Hurry. gotta move!" Every time I heard it, the giggles would start. Why the man couldn't just go to the bathroom, I don't know. At least I found the humor this time, but why can't the man just go use the bathroom! He's not one of those people who has problems going to the bathroom places.

As we paid for our goods, I watched Mario dance around just twenty feet from the men's bathroom. This man is a dork! We walked to the car at his "special speed" and once in the car I started to ask about this Target bathroom aversion.

Me "So, what's the problem with the bathrooms here? You have no problem leaving your mark on other institutions...what's the problem here?"
Mario "I just don't like it"
Me "It can't be that dirty. The ladies bathroom is usually ok. I can't imagine the men's room is that much worse."
Mario "It's really not dirty at all. I just don't like it."
Me "How?"
Mario "I don't know. It's kinda creepy."
Me "What do you mean creepy? Like it feels like there's a ghost in the bathroom?"
Mario "Yes. I don't like it. It's not conducive to proper poopping"
Me "So, you're afraid of the bathroom ghost?"
Mario "Yes."
Me "You're strange."
Mario "You try pooping with a ghost right there."
Me "Why don't you just use the single bathroom by the pharmacy? it's private there, no ghosts."
Mario "There's a bathroom by the pharmacy! That's perfect! I can just go by myself! Next time I'll use that one and swing my feet around in happiness!"
Me "You're weird, but so long as you let me shop at Target without your poop issues I'll be happy. I'm glad we worked through this issue. You were making me crazy."










Friday, November 18, 2011

Breaking up...

continued

We fought to make it work...but we ultimately knew it wouldn't. I knew Saul had gotten to Colleen when her tough cop character was talking about the yard. She had planned a garden, a bbq and already had the fire pit going! I was eating delicious avocados from the yard and collecting tomatoes from the garden colleen had planted. That smooth talking Saul had us! Damn that irresistible smile of his!

As we took the "long" way home, I knew I was going to have to call Saul and tell him we weren't going to take the house. I felt guilty for lying to him. I honestly did hope that Mario would see the little house and somehow see a little glimmer of hope for the place. But it just didn't make sense to take him all the way out there for a place that just wasn't right for us.

When I got home, I explained it to Mario the situation. I was honest and told him that the house wasn't right for us, but that I had made an appointment to go back out and see it. Mario was completely confused. I told him he didn't understand how nice Saul was. Colleen and I knew that once Mario met Saul, they would be best friends. Of course Mario wasn't going for it at all. He didn't want to hear about Jon Pierre, Jacqueline Michelle,  or John Paul Jr "The baby"...Saul's three adult kids. He wasn't interested in hearing about how close the house was to In and Out Burger or Walgreen's. He wasn't interested in Saul's pro tennis player son. Or how he'll hand the buildings he owns to them. He simply didn't see the point.

There was nothing left to do but to call and break up with him. I steeled myself and dialed his number

Me "Hi Saul, it's Laura"
Saul with his nondescript accent "Well, hello Laura. How are you today?"
Me "Great thanks! How are you today?"
Saul "Oh just thinking of you."


Me "uh, oh, how nice"...awkward!
Saul "When are you coming back out to see me?"
Me "well, that's why I called. We won't be able to come out. We decided to stay closer to Burbank"
Saul "Ah, I see. Well, I understand. I thought you would be the perfect tenant for my castle"
Me "Oh, I'm sure we would have been. I'm sure you'll find someone who will be perfect."
Saul "I hope so! But they won't be you!"

Oh that flatterer! As awkward as it was, he still knew how to work the charm. I was a little bummed but relieved too. I can only imagine he's one of those managers who just "pops" by...especially with a sorority out front. 

Colleen and I will always hold a special place in our heart for Saul. I like to think that I let him down easy. We didn't get too serious before we broke up with him. Had I introduced Mario into the situation, it would have been a very tough breakup. I think we got out at the right time.





The Hunt

One of the fun parts of looking for a new place to live, is actually checking out the apartments. It's the same thing I love about being a real estate photographer. It keeps the voyeuristic part of my personality happy. (This reminds me of a guy I went out on a date with once. I explained just that. I like to check out homes and apartments. That's why my job as a real estate photographer is so perfect for that little part of my voyeuristic personality. He took that to mean I liked to watch people having sex and kept bring it up and asking me about watching people...that was the last date I went out with him.) Anyways, I love looking inside houses and apartments! I suspect this is why Colleen and I get along so well. We have spent a number of hours in the car taking the "long" way home. Just so we can look at houses and hope to catch a glimpse inside. Sometimes the "long" way home takes 20 minutes. Other times that "long" way home takes 2 hours. We will get lost just trying to find a new pretty route with pretty houses. We've pulled over for yard sales just to check out a house and we have gone to open houses to look inside. I always love deciding who between the two of us is looking for a new house and what our budget should be at this house..."One million budget for today or just 600,000? I think you and Dave need a five bedroom house for you and your triplets" You gotta have a good line or the agent won't take you seriously people.

So, it's perfect that she would be the one to come with me to look at apartments when Mario can't. I walk around decorating in my head and try to decide where my sewing and craft station will go. I seem to completely forget any and all questions I should be asking and generally walk away with more questions than I started with. She generally plays the bad cop...she is also the more level headed one. It ends up working out though. She is the one, after all, who pointed out that there was a hole in the wall and could see the outdoors from where we were standing in the living room/dining room/bedroom, while we were checking out a nice "guest house" (otherwise know as a shitty pool house).

On Monday, I called to look at a guest house. I spoke with the owner Saul. He was stern on the phone, so I didn't know what to expect from him as a landlord. I honestly had written him off. I felt like it was a little too far away and a little too good to be true...but the voyeur in me thought we should look anyway. A guest house in San Marino....way too good too be true!

Tuesday, Colleen and I headed over to San Marino. We headed towards it, drove through it, and then out the other end to Alhambra. To where I didn't want to live. We still pulled in though and searched for ten minutes trying to find Saul. The front house appeared to be a sorority house inhabited by girls who didn't know how to answer the front door when we knocked. No I am not being snide. She actually told us that she didn't know how to open the door...they used the side door. She did however point us in the direction of Saul.

We walked back to the tiny house, then around the corner to the huge private yard! There sat Saul at a folding table doing a little work. He did look stern. He introduced himself and told us to take a look around. As voyeurs do, we looked and snooped. We checked out every door and nook. It was a confusing little hobbit hole. It was old and dark. Off the kitchen there were four rooms. The living room, a room with a toilet, a room with a sink, and a room with a shower. It was interesting, but nothing grabbed me.

When we walked back out, Saul said "What do you think of your castle?" That's when he had us. Stern Saul ended up being the sweetest man I've ever met. He used the stern to get a feel for people. If he figured you were good people, he opened up and let you in. A nice accent and the warmest smile you'll ever see. Saul was a very proud father, a hard worker, and quite a flirt. He woo'd Colleen by calling her the smartest person on earth for using the bus as transportation. He woo'd me in with talk of lemon and avocado trees. Then when he knew he had us, he turned into the flirty touchy guy. We talked of travel, college and the importance of continued learning. We discussed smart phones and gave our own tips on choosing a new tenant. We must have stood there and talked for half an hour...maybe more!

The longer we stood there though, the more of a problem I was having. I knew this place wasn't for us. I didn't want to live behind a sorority(although I know Dexter would be in heaven). I didn't want to live in that dark little house. It didn't feel right for us. I did love the huge yard (Colleen had already planned one of Mario's BBQs in the yard and had already invited Saul). The only part of this place I loved besides the yard was the lemon tree, the avocado tree, the brand new washer and dryer...and Saul.

As we walked toward the sorority house and towards our car, Saul was all but begging us to move it. He said he knew good people and we were them! He asked when I could bring Mario over...although I think he was hoping that just Colleen and I would move into that back house with him. And even though I knew this place wasn't for us...I told Saul I would bring Mario over on Thursday. I knew I was lying to him and I was even more disappointed that I probably wouldn't get to talk to Saul again.

continued...

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

How I drive Mario crazy

There's one thing that really seems to irritate the mister. It's something that most other people tend love about me. Some times my episodes are merely one simple little thing. Other times of the month, it's a freaking epidemic. It's my ability to be a complete dip-shit.

Yes it makes for great blogging and let's be honest, he's got quite a list of dip-shit moves of his own...most of which I've told you about on the ole bloggy. For some reason though, he doesn't quite find the same humor in my dip-shits. Probably because he sees my path of destruction and that just doesn't bode well with his OCD tendencies.

Let's start with my trying to clear a table last Saturday. We were at a fundraiser at the restaurant. Things were quieting down and we decided to work on a puzzle. I started moving things around and making space. I nicely moved a few drinks to the side, grabbed the table center pieces and proceeded to dump the ketchup bottle into a friend's coffee...which dumped off the side of the table and on to his stuff. I immediately got the look from Mario. The "are you serious...why are you ruining people's things?" I did feel pretty bad, but all was ok in the end.

I then had to one up myself the next night. I was clearing a table at the restaurant. I had gotten everything off the table and reached for the drink...completely dumping a huge iced tea all over the place. This time I got table, benches, floor, and over into Mario's booth next to it. I immediately got the look again. This time it was "are you serious! Have you completely forgotten how to use your opposable thumbs woman?" I couldn't help but laugh cause I was thinking the exact same thing. Luckily I had back-up. Rene was the first to thank me for clearing the table...smart ass. At least she knew I was trying to help.

My favorite dip-shit move of the week was while Mario and I were driving around. We've been on the lookout for a new apartment. Monday there were two places I wanted to take a look at. One was a guest house I'd made an appointment for on Tuesday. The other was for a townhouse that I was still waiting for a call back from. However, I did have an address for it. So, we decided to take a run by and check out the neighborhood. If it wasn't up to par, I just wouldn't make the appointment.

I pulled out my little notebook with the addresses on it. Mario fired up the GPS and I told him the address. 1015 E Broadway. With our destination punched in, we headed off. A short drive away, we pulled off the freeway and started looking for the street numbers. 1100...1085...1062...ooh these are decent looking...there's the high school...park...1020...1018...a church...where are the townhomes?...let's turn around and look again....high school...park...1019...1017...should be right here...and there's the church again...Where the hell was 1015! It didn't seem to exist. We turned around for a third pass and I decided to check the street number I had written down...yup 1015...where could it be...then I saw the problem.."Oh.."

Mario "What?"
Me "This isn't the street."
Mario "What do you mean. We're on Broadway."
Me "The townhomes are on Harvard."
Mario "Where did Broadway come from?"
Me "mmm...I dunno."
That's when I got the sigh and the look...and I got the giggles. Where the hell I came up with Broadway, I have no idea, but I couldn't stop laughing. Just one more thing to add to the list of dip-shits. I had just given him a street willy-nilly and have no idea why I said it. I was looking at the paper afterall.

Luckily, I was only a few blocks off and the property was shitty. His irritation was short lived and he finally started to appreciate the absurdity of the situation. So, I made sure to remind him that he married this and if it weren't for my dip-shits, we wouldn't have so much adventure in our life.

I'm sure one day I'll drive the man bat shit crazy, although he really can't deny that I make life interesting...besides, this blog is full of his own dip-shits. His dip-shits just require less clean-up and gas.