A Very Special 3 Good Things!

It's my 10th Anniversary today -- the 10th Anniversary of the day I suckered Sweetie into actually going through with marrying me. As I said in the card I gave her today (and yes, I gave her more than a card -- the inventor of the Tuesday Present knows how to give proper gifts), "I don't know why you stick with me, but I'm glad you do."

To celebrate, bloggerwise, I'm going to take just a little time this morning to give you A Very Special 3 Good Things. Since I don't need 3 Good Things to keep me in a good mood today (it's my anniversary and I've got the day off, to boot), I'm giving you 3 Good (But In A Strange Sort of Way) Things About Being Married To Sweetie:

1. Sweetie knows surprising things, like how to cook bacon really good.

Sweetie is always watching crazy shows, and she went through a phase a while back where she really liked cooking shows. Sweetie isn't much, though, for gourmet food. (Neither of us are; we'll probably celebrate our anniversary with pizza. Update: Sweetie just told me it'll be KFC!) So I assumed that the shows were just for entertainment, until one day, Sweetie cooked bacon as part of the dinner and the bacon was actually crispy and really good. It was restaurant-style bacon, which I've never had outside of a restaurant.

It was then that I learned that Sweetie had gotten, from her cooking shows, all kinds of little tips, like how to cook bacon in an oven on a cookie sheet to get it crispy. So being married to Sweetie gets me restaurant-style bacon for life.

(Being married to me gets Sweetie "a variety of deep-fried things, including many things that probably were better off not being deep-fried.")

2. Sweetie's soft streak shows up in unexpected ways. Sweetie is, as everyone knows, an amazing softie who nonetheless says I have no backbone just because I cave in and let Mr Bunches take a second bath at 9:15 at night because he really wants to.

Sweetie's kindheartedness overflows and affects her at all times, like when she cried during a Futurama episode (the one with Fry's clover), or when she cried during a Cheerios commercial. (The one about adopting a baby.) But the worst/best ever was this:

We were watching Anaconda, or maybe Anaconda 2. I'm not sure. It doesn't matter. We were watching it, and there's a monkey in there, and [SPOILER ALERT?] the monkey got into some trouble, lost in a cave full of snakes or something, and Sweetie got very upset. When I asked her why she was so upset about a movie-monkey, she said "The monkey reminds me of Stormy!"

(Stormy [full name: Stormy Jet Risotto] is Sweetie's cat.)

(Update: Sweetie read this part and cried.)

3. Sweetie is HOT. That's not surprising. Not to me -- I knew Sweetie was beautiful when I met her, and when I married her, and each day when I wake up. And I get it reinforced by the number of guys who hit on her all the time, sometimes in front of me. (Hey, guys, show a little class, okay? At least wait 'til I drive off.)

But I wanted you to know. I'm spending my 10th anniversary with the most beautiful woman ever. (And she cooks bacon!)


129 down, 10,820 to go: It's the song Sweetie and I danced to at our wedding: True Companion by Marc Cohn. All you other couples... this is OUR song. Back off.

Will Smith is like Sara Lee, only with more Scientology involved. (3 Good Things From 5/11/10)

I was this close to getting a chance to do some 'puting yesterday... and then I remembered about having a job and all. Even with as busy as I was, though, I still got 3 Good Things out of the day to keep me happy as I head into today, and today, they're all quotes:

1. "Awesome." That's what Mr Bunches said when we were getting ready to head out on errands, as Mr F noodled around with my guitar. Mr F was picking at the strings and horsing around, and I said "Play a chord," so he did. And Mr Bunches said "Awesome."

2. "Meow." That is what Mr Bunches said when I helped him get some milk before bed. We'd put him and Mr F to bed, but they hadn't gone to sleep yet. Mr Bunches had announced he wanted milk (by pounding on his door as hard as he could) and I'd brought him downstairs to get some, where we ran into our main cat, Scruffy. (Full name: Scruffy Jean MacDougal.)(Yes, she's Scottish.)

Mr Bunches tries to talk to Scruffy, who he's now good friends with. So as we walked by and she looked at us, he said "Meow."

3. "What is going on here?" That's from The Boy, whose main activity these days is sleeping; The Boy sleeps so much that Mr Bunches calls him "sleep."

The Boy was sleeping on the couch downstairs last night when I came down, after the Babies! were in bed, to Lost-ercise: jogging on a trampoline while watching an episode of Lost. I put in the DVD and began jogging/being mystified, and the dialogue woke up The Boy, who was crabby from being woken up, and also pretend-crabby from having constantly to pretend that everything I like is terrible and everything he likes is good; The Boy will not admit that something I (or Sweetie) likes is good, or will at best grudgingly do so. So when we loved The Watchmen, he went to see it but left halfway through (only to then watch it on DVD and say it was "okay.") He only began to like MGMT when I announced that I didn't like them anymore. And he absolutely will not watch Lost, even if it means, in this case, that he's got to get up and go to bed, which he did, after loudly proclaiming "What is going on here?"

Only a teenager can act as though using your own stuff in your own house is an affront to humanity.

128 down, 10,821 to go: I was talking with my boss last night about music we liked, and he said he didn't particularly care for, and I quote:

"That music, what's it called, where they talk over the other music... spoken word?"

I thought about that for a second and said "Do you mean rap?"

"Yes, rap," he said. "I don't like that." That's a shocking statement, I know, coming from a rich, golf-loving 60-year-old lawyer; here I thought my boss was the key rap demographic. I told him, though, that there's some rap that's good and that I'd try to find some raps he'd like. Here's the first: Switch, by Will Smith. Who doesn't like Will Smith?

Every Saturday we have an adventure; some are moreso than others. (3 Good Things From The Weekend.)

I didn't come in over the weekend, making this my first 2-day weekend in a long time; instead, Mr Bunches, Mr F and I made Sweetie breakfast in bed. That might be one of Sweetie's 3 Good Things for today; here's mine, looking back over the whole weekend:

1. Mr Bunches made a friend! I took Mr F and Mr Bunches to the mall playground Saturday night; it was raining and cold and crummy out, so our Saturday adventure -- every Saturday, we go on an adventure -- was going to the mall.


While there, Mr Bunches finally made a friend to play chase with. For his whole entire life, Mr Bunches has gone to playgrounds and gatherings and tried to get other kids to play chase: they chase him, he chases them. He usually picks out older kids who don't play with him, but who he (heartbreakingly) thinks are playing with him, resulting in the sad sight of Mr Bunches running after bigger kids until he realizes they aren't playing.

This time was different: This time, Mr Bunches found a kid his own age, who also wanted to play chase, and for 40 glorious minutes, he and the other kid alternated chasing each other and tackling and wrestling each other and having a great time.

It just goes to show: dreams do come true.

2. I discovered "Cursing Mommy." Cursing Mommy is apparently an ongoing feature of The New Yorker. I'd never heard of it until yesterday, when The Boy took Sweetie to a movie for Mother's Day (A Nightmare On Elm Street, the best Mother's Day movie you could imagine) and the girls went shopping and Mr F and Mr Bunches actually napped, leaving me 2 hours of free time, which I spent lying on our living room couch, reading back issues of my New Yorker subscription.

Cursing Mommy -- specifically "Rx From The Cursing Mommy" is one of the funniest things I have ever read. Click that link to go read it.

3. Middle proved that Bret Michaels wears a wig. Middle looked at Sweetie's People Magazine and noted that Bret Michaels, in the little inset photo, doesn't have long hair.

I was very impressed with her powers of observation.

127 Down, 10,822 to go: I was going to go with All My Friends by LCD Soundsystem, but then I used that as the song for the latest 5 pages on my "5 Pages" blog, and then I was going to go with Forbidden by The Violent Femmes, but (a) nobody's put that song on Youtube yet, and (b) I got distracted by The Violent Femmes on Sabrina The Teenage Witch:




Which taught me that lead singer Gordon Gano's name is pronounced Gain-o, not Gon-o like I'd always thought...

...yeah, I watched it, at work. So what?

So in the end I went with Hypnotize by The White Stripes.