NotTheRock Musings

One of the joys of being married is that you always have someone to antagonize when you're bored. There are many immature, idiotic things I like to do (setting alarm clocks and kitchen timers to go haywire in Bed, Bath & Beyond has always been a favorite of mine) to make my wife's eyes roll, but yesterday I did another of my favorites. It's very simple, but it produces hilarity (at least to me) every time.

We men like to grab asses. Clearly, this is not news. But what I like to do is the surprise ass-grab. Even better is when you can get somebody else in trouble for it. We had to go to a store and so she said I could wait in the car. I waited until she was inside and then went in, saw he standing in line and sneaked up behind her, grabbing a handful. Of course, the reaction was an instant spin-around, and then the realization that it was me. Fun.

But it's even better in a crowded place. I used to always love doing this at Yankee Stadium or Madison Square Garden, where anyone who grew up going to those places knows everyone is edgy and reader for a fracas, especially if you start to eyeball Vinny's girl.

One of my favorites was when wifey was in the beer line at MSG and there was a stranger behind her. A male stranger. I had gotten something elsewhere so she didn't know I was approaching. I cruised by the line and pinched her ass-cheek on the opposite side that I was passing on, thus causing the involuntary turn to that side. And I just kept moving, but kept an eye on the situation. She spun around and looked at the guy behind her. His face was priceless. And it wasn't necessarily the "Crap, I didn't do that!" face... but more a face that most of us males would make. Kind of like a chagrined, "Well, if I knew I was going to get in trouble for something I'd enjoy doing anyway...."

It never gets old.

Labels: ass-grabbing, married life

Experts everywhere are asking themselves this question... has NotTheRock finally run its course?

Sure, back when it started in January 2003, it was a good outlet for me. And it was a way that my friends (those who knew about it) could hear my inane ramblings and be mildly entertained by it all.

But since then I've started the sports site Boiled Sports with a couple of friends and it's done really well. Sure, we're not millionaires yet, but I have a good feeling about 2009.

Plus I use Facebook now which, like anything else, will also fade from popularity and I'll abandon it, just like I abandoned the juvenile MySpace (which I only joined when a friend who is OLDER than me pushed me to do it).

Of course, Facebook has my real name on it and so when I bash things or people, I have to deal with the repurcussions. And who wants to be responsible when they slander others? Not me.

And so NTR remains valuable to me in that I can write things here that are about my life and yet are somewhat separated from who I specifically am -- thus, I am really writing to write and not just arrogantly posting updates about my life, as though anyone cares (see my rant about Facebook a couple posts down).

The thing is, I used to post a number of times a week, at least. Going a week without writing was unheard of. Now I go a month at a time. This is simply unacceptable, and I admit it. Those few of you who DID come here regularly did so because you expected at least something to feed your desire to read drivel on a daily (or near-daily) basis. So again, I'm sorry I'm failing you in this way. I have ideas to figure things out and improve the situation but they'll have to wait until after the new year. Until then, you're stuck with my scattershot, poorly distributed approach.

So what has been going on?

Well, our dog is still cute.

We went to Mexico for Thanksgiving. That was rather awesome.

We're driving back to the Northeast for the holiday this year.

Back when we were making our plans for the end of the year, we made the official decision to drive home. When we went up to NJ in July, we probably spent $1200 just on travel. I think our plane tickets were close to $500 each, plus the dog was another $200, plus we had to rent a car to get to the 'rents beach house. I didn't want to spend like this again and travel through two of the busiest airports in the country during Christmas week. With a dog. A dog that really doesn't fit into her travel case anymore. Have you ever tried to put an unwilling dog into a small duffel bag? (A live one.) It's not easy when they don't want to go either a result of fear or obstinance.

So we just said, hey, a road trip will be fun. Note we don't have kids yet. Not that air travel once we have children will be any more appealling. I think that that point, we'll just host all Christmases until our kids are 21 and then we might consider going elsewhere again.

Anyway, we decided to drive home. And then just last week I looked at plane tickets for the dates we're traveling.

I shouldn't have done that.

$258 per person, round trip. Come on.

But at least gas is a hell of a lot cheaper now, too. Even with the cheaper flights, I think gas will only cost about $270 for the whole round trip. Plus we'll have our own car with us for jaunts around the tri-state area.

My Acura has never made this journey before, to my knowledge. If it snows and the traction control has to function, I imagine the car will have another light come on that says, "Are you serious? I'm a Houston car."

So anyway, we're off this Saturday morning. I would love for us to hit the road super-early so that we get a long day of driving in and have a shorter day on Sunday. Sunday our destiation is my sister-in-law's place in Virginia. Then on 12/24 we'll journey up to NJ to spend a few days at my parents' place. Some other visiting in NJ and NY will follow and then we'll hit the road again and head back around the 29th or 30th.

We'll travel east out of Texas into Louisiana and then catch I-59 North, which runs Northeast (how fortuitous!) up diagonally through Alabama and into Tennessee. I hope to get to Tennessee after day one. That would leave us just 500-ish miles to our destination in Virginia. We shall see.

So that's enough rambling for today. See you next month!

Just kidding. Sort of.

Maybe.

Labels: holidays, in-laws, married life, Maya, Merry Christmas, on the road again, road trips, traveling

You ever get into weird games with your spouse? (No, not those kinds of weird games, you pervert!) Like you just start going back and forth, either verbally or via email or, in our case, via text?

That's what happened with Lovely Wife and me the other day. See, she walks through this maze of underground tunnels to get from her office to my building and then we walk together to the car. And she always sends me a text when she's leaving so I can time my shut-down procedures and meet her in the lobby. Usually it's just "Leaving now," to which I always reply "ok." But on Tuesday it got silly and so I thought I'd document it here. Each line is a text, alternating between us, with her going first.

Leaving now.
Roger
rabbit
bunny
honey
bee
wax
on wax off
daniel son
of a bitch
fight
to the death
do us part
and parcel
service
center
point
taken
lightly
salted
nuts
sack
of potatoes
salad
tossed
cookies
n' cream
in your coffee

Yes, something's wrong with us. This was all in a 15 minute walk to my office. Then we argued about who broke the "rules."

No competitiveness here.

Labels: married life, silly games

I'll be 33 years old this year. But anyone who knows me (or has tried to get a nicely-posed photograph out of me) knows that I am more like, well, an infant. Or maybe a misbehaved -- and kind of disproportionately large -- toddler.

Never is this more evident than when my eating habits are called into question. Oh sure, I have a good routine established for most days -- a Kashi peanut butter bar for breakfast, a frozen WW meal for lunch along with some fat free Pringles and WW yogurt, and then whatever happens to be made for dinner by my lovely wife.

But that's the thing. She's getting more confident in the kitchen and she really likes veggies. She has this weird thing where we absolutely must have sides with every meal. If there aren't sides -- or enough sides -- she has mini-freakouts.

"Mmmm, hon, this steak is marinated so well. It's gonna be great."

"I don't know what we're going to do about sides!"

This sort of exchange plays out more than you might think. I don't get it. Who cares what's on your plate as long as you're full at the end? I mean, this is not to say I think you should eat a bowl of potato chips for dinner. Far from it.. I think there needs to be a hearty, main course-ish thing to eat. Such as steak, chicken, fish, sandwiches, pasta, eggs, etc. Whatever. But not without sides. In fact, I think my wife should write a move for the Lifetime Network entitled, Not Without My Sides.

So naturally, this has led to what J will and will not eat. And the "will not" list isn't as lengthy as everyone thinks. But once people think you're "picky" or "fussy," the label never -- never -- goes away. My idiot cousins still think I won't eat meat lasagna because one time when I was a kid I said I preferred cheese lasagna b/c that's what my grandmother (and mother) used to make. I absoultely loved their cheese lasagna and still do. So my mother assumed, in her early-onset dementia, that meant I hated all other lasagna. While I probably made a face about veggie lasagna, I never claimed to not like meat. And she knows this, because whenever she -- or anyone else in a 50 mile radius of my nose -- makes meatballs, I eat as many as possible. Yet a couple years ago, when I was about 30 or so, my cousins came to my parents' house for Christmas and brough two fucking lasagnas. One for everybody except me and one without meat because, "J doesn't eat meat lasagna." The hell?

Anyway, I'm digressing. Point is, people think I'm picky and more picky than I actually am. When in reality, it's simply that I know what I like and I like to have what I like a lot. You know? I'd eat the same five or six meals in rotation every week for the next thirty years if it was allowed. But if you do that, people look at you like you're a four year old who only eats chicken fingers, hot dogs and mac-n-cheese. (Three staples I'm not ashamed to admit I find delicious.)

Okay, digressing again. The whole point of this post was to share the fact that my lovely wife wants to be able to make veggies with dinner on a nightly basis. She loves veggies. Eats them like snacks. She'd eat a box of edimame or frozen green beans as a snack. She's weird. But she's hot, so I let her stay.

Me, I like me a main course and if I have to have a side, I choose a starch. Nice, fattening, carbohydrate-laden starches. Potatoes, rice, pasta. Whatever. Hell, I married an Italian woman, one would think I'd get a bowl of pasta at the start of ever meal followed by some codfish and then a main course of meat. Those Godfather movies were full of shit.

So I agreed, as I have in the past, to eat -- or at least, try -- anything my wife puts in front of me. I want credit for this, because I rarely say, flat-out, no, I'm not eating that. I'll try it or I'll at least tell you I once tried it and don't like it. At that point, you should back off. I'm 215 lbs and I will hurt you if you continue to press your luck. You can only force me to put things in my mouth if you let me put things in your mouth. Which leads us to my wife.

Wait -- well, you know what I meant.

What this agreement meant was that I'd be eating veggies on a semi-regular basis for the first time since my youth when my mother would withhold dessert from me until I choked down some broccoli. I remember the table being cleared and me still sitting there with a few stalks of broccoli or cauliflower or something else equally disgusting. And the Welsh Farms ice cream sitting there in the freezer, like a glorious finish line.

Anyway, I've already been making progress in the past year. I eat salads occasionally now, and that's all due to my wife. The first time my mom saw me eating salad I think she almost fainted. Or maybe she thought I liked salad all along. It's not meat lasagna after all.

So a week or two ago, I had some squash. It was okay, kind of reminded me of a sweet potato. A yellowish sweet potato. And it didn't taste like a sweet potato. But other than that, it was wonderful. I loaded it up with Smart Balance fake-butter and salted it and gobbled it down. It didn't bother me that much so I was pleased with myself. And Watersyne was thrilled also.

Then the next one was green beans. Now, I hate most green veggies. Which, I admit, doesn't leave much. But as I said earlier, I'd eat the same thing every night so this shouldn't be a problem. But my wife doesn't want to eat the same thing all the time and also doesn't want to make me special meals, so I have to branch out. So I ate a half-dozen green beans with dinner one night. I admit, it wasn't a large sampling, but I ate the damn things and my critics should be happy with that.

Then a couple nights ago it was pepper time. I cooked red, yellow and orange sweet peppers on the grill along with shish-ke-bob steaks and away we went. I ate several pieces of each color, not particularly enjoying them but also not vomiting. I felt like I'd done a good job and then Watersyne put the same number of pieces I'd just eaten onto my plate and said I should finish those and she'd be happy. So I did. I love her. What can I say? I'll eat salad, peppers and green beans for her.

And there doesn't even have to be Welsh Farms ice cream waiting for me at the end.

Labels: fatness, married life, The Great Veggie Experiment

You know, one of the many perks of being a married man is the fact that, while there are still expectations on Valentine's Day, the stress largely evaporates once you put a ring on her finger.

See, Valentine's Day is stupid, made-up holiday cultivated by Hallmark and 1-800-Flowers, or so I would imagine. I tend to agree with those who ask why we need a special day to tell those important to us how much they mean. To me, it's kind of like celebrating your life on a birthday or the new year on 12/31 -- why only celebrate those things on those specific days?

But I'm digressing, as usual. The best Valentine's Days for me are happening now and will continue to happen. You know why? Because I only need to make one woman smile on Valentine's Day. I don't have to worry that some girl I might sort of possibly have a thing with is expecting flowers to arrive on her doorstep. I don't have to deal with the pressure people put on about getting engaged on that day. Those sorts of things.

I remember last year, we went on a Circle Line Cruise around Manhattan. It was dinner and dancing and alcohol... and there was no stress because we were already engaged. Watersyne and I even enjoyed looking around to try to find the nervous guys about to propose. Not us! Just out for a fun dinner!

I remember back in college, I used to send out cards on Valentine's Day the way most people send cards around Christmas. That is, I would send a Valentine's Day card to every girl in my life that could have potential, did have potential, once had potential, etc... you get the point. I distinctly remember shopping for literally like a dozen cards and then writing out each one thoughtfully and then sending them off to all these chicks I thought I had a chance with. To be fair, I probably did have a chance with a good number of them.... I mean, who among us hasn't strung a girl along at some point in their lives? And what better way than being "thoughtful"? I mean, she could be writing you off, but then she gets that thoughtful card with handwritten thoughts... and boom, you're back in the game. Sure, it's a little shady, but let's all remember that we are all shady when we're college-aged. Especially dudes.

But I mean it when I say the best Valentine's Days for me are happening now. No more wondering if I'm going to be alone for this stupid, meaningless holiday. And no more wondering if I made the right choice of "dates" for Valentine's Day. Nope, there's just one woman for me on V-Day and we're contractually obligated by the laws of the state of New York to be with one another.

And hey, if I don't get her a nice gift, what's she gonna do? Go out with someone else? I don't think so.

Labels: married life, Valentine's Day