Tuesday, February 14, 2006

I Heart You

More tomorrow on how much I heart my wonderful, Valentine's Day-OWNING-husband, but for now, I heart you guys. So I am sharing some things from the last week or so that I have actually been saving (sending myself emails) , many involving said husband.

During the opening ceremony of the Winter Olympics, as many Italians notoraries are being announced, Alex yells, "Hey, there's Chef Boyardee carrying a flag!" He is not always PC, my husband. Also, when Pavarotti was singing a transcendent rendition of an aria from "Turandot," Alex sang along. Now, my husband has a beautiful singing voice. But he does not know any other languages. Or even the words to any English songs. So his version, while quite melodic, went, "Blah blah-blah-blah-blah blahhh blah-blahhhhhh....." etc.

One night recently, he came in from a trip to Wal-mart, and deposited onto the bed sacks containing a dozen or so small stuffed animals and...a small hacksaw. When I questioned this, he plopped a box on the bed, and said, smiling suggestively, "I got a sump-pump, too." And then winked. This is my life.

When setting up his blog, I asked him what kind of tags he wanted associated with his site. He replied, "Hunky...stud..." then presumably caught sight of the look I was giving him, and quickly added, "UNATTAINABLE."

And just so you know he's not the only crazy person in the house, I'll tell on myself. I had a few insomniac nights recently, where my brain would not shut up and let me go to sleep. You might assume, knowing me, that I was thinking deep, philosophical thoughts. And of course, you'd be right. BUT, I was also consumed with one recurring, nagging question. Think about the game of "charades." Now what do you do when you want to indicate that the category is "movie?" You mime the cranking of a manually-operated film camera, right? WHY?!? How long has it been since movies were made with cameras you had to hand-power? And why do we still even recognize that as the motion of a camera?

And in that same night, I spent some time online, and kept seeing an ad that read, "Earn a degree in your pajamas!" I could not get that Groucho voice out of my head, which kept repeating, cigar wiggling and eyebrows wagging, "How the degree got into my pajamas, I'll never know!" It was disturbing.

And then there was the electrician incident. I fell vicitim to the Southern charm of my electrician. I know you're thinking, since I'm from here, that I should be immune. And I would have thought the same thing. They were supposed to be here at a certain time to install some wiring for new light fixtures. They were late. Very late. At the 3-hour-late mark, I called in to their office to get an ETA. Not a lot of help. Shortly thereafter, I got a call from one of the electrician partners, who happens to be about my age, and the brother of a classmate. I was prepared to be irate, and give him what-for, but here's how it actually went:

Charmin' Electrician Contractor: "Hey, there, Miss Belinda. How you doin' this afternoon, ma'am?" (Now, this is someone I know, but down here, it doesn't matter. Honorifics are never dropped by charmin' gentlemen, and you can always expect a "yes, ma'am" and a "no, ma'am," etc.)

Me: "Just fine." (See? Already there is no complaining. The very idea of complaining is beginning to fade.)

CEC: "You gonna be around there for a while, for our guys to come on out there?"

Me: (Already feeling not irritated, and chipper, even) "You bet!"

CEC: "Well, then, they'll be right on out, if it's OK with you."

Me: "All right, then!"

CEC: "Thank you much, Ma'am."

Me: "Thank you!" As I hang up, I realize that I am smiling. And then I think, "Wasn't I going to be mad at them?"

A little Southern charm can go a long way, it seems. Even as the men who did the work were leaving, the older one (and owner of the company) called out to me, "You tell your mama I asked after her, now."

And I did.

P.S. Thank you to everyone for the kind comments and understanding expressed over the dying pet issue. This just exemplifies why I heart you SO much. Rosa is buried now, near the pond, and all the other horses have settled in well.


  1. bless your heart! i can so relate to your insomnia induced pondering of the mundane until it is no longer mundane, but quite scintilling.
    you and your DH sounds like such a hoot. how can we help but heart you too???!!!

  2. i love your man :)

    and you have to do that movie mime because standing very still and staring and then miming yelling at the stars takes too long.

    and! that southern drawl/old school charm gets me every time. if my credit card company had southern operators instead of unintelligible overseas operators, i would have kept the card!

  3. YOU WERE TRICKED, that old Southern drawl will get you everytime. DEVIL!!!!

  4. I heart you, Belinda!

  5. Your and your hubby sound like so much fun!!

  6. I got to see Pavarotti in concert not long ago when he was in Tulsa - your hubby would have been a riot to sit next to there! (Until he got quietly escorted out by security, that is.)

    Fun blog today! Lots of giggles over here. :)

  7. {{celena}}

    jac, come live with him awhile. Please. (channeling Groucho again, oops) At least the up-all-night brain wasn't doing lame 70's TV theme songs or reciting poetry I learned in college. I hate that.

    nita, you love my man because he is, essentially, an alternate incarnation of YOUR man. I've said it before, they must never meet. And that "gentleman caller" thing, I think, is the shocking deference to a female, manners-wise. Especially if you've been dealing with the public most of the time, and not getting that. The sweet boy who was my date to the senior prom a thousand years ago, and now is an upstanding husband and father of several polite, lovely children, still calls me "Ma'am," just like he did back then. Or "Belinda Jane." Which is not my name. Which he knows. I still love him.

    Pat, oh, pat. You'd kill him inside of 24 hours. Or maybe not, now that I think back on some of your own stories, like the "on strike from doing dishes" quote. Hmmmm.

    britt, I was tricked into getting MARRIED. Of course I can be tricked into not yelling at an electrician.


    queen, come on over some time when we're having one of our Dali-esque arguments. Your head will hurt and you'll go back home. ;-)

    cmc, I'm sitting here wondering just how many seconds that would be after the lights went down. Loves to sing along, does my man. Loves not to learn the lyrics to anything. But the voice, in all earnestness, is golden.

  8. *Sigh* I wish I lived in the South, where people are polite and ask after your mama and call you ma'am. Here in Michigan? Not so much.

    Why did Alex feel it was necessary to buy a bag full of stuffed animals? I'm sure they were cute and all, but why?

  9. elizabeth, the stuffed animals were for the ladies at the office for Valentine's day. And the little hacksaw was to cut a piece of PVC pipe that he is fitting to the sump-pump that's being used to create a super-hyper-dog-washing-apparatus. That's right.

  10. Your husband...bought stuffed animals...for the ladies at the OFFICE?! I'm sending my husband to Arkansas immediately.

  11. elizabeth--it's a calculated risk. He could come back all praline-sweet, or he could just as easily get redneck brainwashed, and start putting appliances on the porch, spitting in public, and peeing outside. Just sayin'.

    And he is the only male in an entirely female office. That's got the potential to be tricky territory. He better stay charming at work!