Random Esquire

Besos spoke with her family tonight.  Afterwards, she looked at me and said, “That was my grandmother.”

Besos continued, “She said, ‘I just had surgery in one eye and the other one doesn’t work.’”

I paused and looked up.

She said, “So I said, “Oh…., well, use your imagination, Grandma.‘”

I burst out laughing.  I said, “Seriously?”

She laughed and said, “Well, what was I supposed to say??  Besides…she didn’t hear me.”

I said, “She didn’t hear you?”

She said, “No…she’s gone deaf.”

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing again.

We’re going to hell.

1.  Why do I always end up dating teachers?

Because I have childhood fantasies, people. That’s why.

2.  I am leaving for NYC on Saturday morning. Work threatens to explode while I am gone.  This displeases me.

3.  Instigator’s daughter calmly explained the mechanics of sex to a peer.  This cracks me up.

4.  Little Filthy will be staying with my parents while I am out of town.  I suspect he will celebrate by baking a potato on my mother’s rug, as is his habit.  She will be delighted, no doubt.

5.  I will be meeting up with the Seattle Crew while in NYC.  They will all meet my sister.  This should be interesting!

So, you may recall that Besos has long, straight hair.

Exhibit 1

Exhibit 2

Except, not really.

Besos has straight hair like soccer moms have blond hair.  That is to say:  She totally does not.

I know this.  But I rarely *see* the alternative.  This is because she will blow dry it straight.

Except, last weekend, I did not give her much opportunity to blow dry her hair after her shower.  Or dry off, for that matter, before I chased her down the hall.

The result?

Her hair was a wild mane of curls.  Ringlets and big curls.

At some point, while *cough* making with the whoopie pancakes, I realized that I found the wild hair very, very attractive.

And then I realized part of the reason why I found it so attractive.

Because it was like having sex with a different woman.

Like sex with another woman and we’re having sex for the first time and I know exactly what she likes and she does everything I like.

WTF!

I wondered, briefly, if I should feel badly about this.  I decided to consult Bev.  Her diagnosis?  “Guys like variety.”

Hmm.

I concluded that I needn’t feel badly.  Mainly because I think it’s normal.  And also because I told Besos and she laughed and said she was glad I liked her hair.

I informed her tonight that while I am seeing straight haired Besos, I am having an affair on the side with curly haired Besos and curly hair Besos was dirty minded and completely uninhibited.

She said we could test that theory.

But then I realized…straight haired Besos is dirty minded and completely uninhibited.

Random FTW!

1.  I can be a bit of a private individual and am usually loathe to pry into the private lives of others.  One thing I enjoy, though, is looking at a person’s bookshelf.  So I decided to take a picture of part of my bookshelf and post a picture.  Won’t you do the same on your blog?  I want to see what I might learn about you from the picture.  Here is my picture which you may click to enlarge.  Try to contain the excitement.

2.  I saw Besos this weekend.  We had not spent any substantive time together since early September and, well, perhaps we’re re-evaluating.  Time will tell.

Anyway, we had a relaxing Saturday night after I spent the day with family and she with friends.  Then, this morning, both Little Filthy and I bounced off the walls until Besos couldn’t take it any more.   I was excited because the Chicago Marathon was this morning and the runners go right past my place.  When the Elite runners were a mile away, we went outside and cheered them on.  Then went inside and rewound the televised coverage until we saw ourselves cheering them on.

3.  I don’t know why he doesn’t just go to bed.  He just falls asleep on the couch once the television is on.

4.  Are you a sucker for anything?  I’m a sucker for winking and terms of endearment.  It’s a little bit ridiculous, really.

5.  I just typed “Love is an unusual thing.”  Then, in my head, I thought to myself “Make one man weep, make another man sing.”  And then I wondered where the hell my mind had pulled that random line so I googled it.

Ayup.  Huey Lewis, Power of Love.

**hangs head in shame**

1. I love watching Jeopardy. I laugh through most of it. During Kids Week, all of the kids jammed their buzzer to answer a question to name the war in which some state was acquired by the U.S. But when asked about the primary ingredient in marinara sauce, they all look at each with blank faces, completely stumped. That shit cracks me up. Last week, a woman gave an incorrect answer and Alex Trebek said something like, “Ohhh, no, it’s XX. What you said is something else entirely.”  I laughed.

2.  I bought foaming hand soap for the bathroom.  At some point, while using it, I wondered, “Does this make me lazy?  I don’t even want to take the time to lather my own soap?”

3.  Yesterday, the Today Show covered a story in which two adopted guys worked at the same place and then found out that they were brothers.  And then a sister emerged out of the woodwork.  The three of them were on.  Turns out there’s another sister and so they all met each other live on the Today Show this morning.  The best part was that this 4th sibling…she looked a little, how shall I say it…. rough.  She said that as soon as she saw the show the day before, she knew this was her family.  And then she made a motion toward her newly found sister and said something along the lines of:  “I mean, come on, look at us. It’s so obvious that we’re sisters.”

And I swear the other sister cringed.

4.  Today, I watched a Cover Girl commercial on television.  Penelope Cruz was in it.  I watched it and then paused, rewound it and watched it again before I realized why.

*sigh* Bah.

Updated to add:

5.  I put a plate with a slice of watermelon on it down on the coffee table.  I got up to get a glass of water.  I turned around and Little Filthy had it in his mouth, sticking out of each side.  I yelled, “HEY!” and he tore off running down the hall.  He ran right into the bedroom (have I mentioned that I don’t have any doors in my place?  I live in a loft so I don’t even have walls that go up to the ceiling…which is about 17 feet high).  Yeah, I found the beast on my bed, watermelon rind on my PILLOW.

And you know what? Dogs don’t have lips.  You know what that means?  It means they get watermelon juice everywhere.

Who wants a dog?

I don’t know what is up with me this week.  I started off melancholy and even blogged about it before deciding that even I didn’t want to read that crap.  Then I made the entry private.  And now?  Now I’m in some sort of angry stage.  I don’t get it.  It’s like I’m going through the stages of grief or something over here.

But since we’re here, let’s flesh out the angry, shall we?

1.  You might be a 60 year old man if you’re still telling that stupid Norm from Cheers joke about it being a dog-eat-dog world and you’re wearing milkbone underpants.  Cut it out.

2.  I discovered today that someone was using one of my photos… without attributing it to me.  You know what you shouldn’t do?  Steal someone else’s intellectual property.  You know what else is stupid?  Stealing an attorney’s intellectual property.  You know what is smart?  Immediately fixing the problem and not doing it again.  Idiot.

3.  I disappointed someone last week.  More than one someone, really.  Ugh, what a horrible feeling.  Anger at myself.

4.  I ordered something a couple of weeks ago that should have been done today.  And yet, it wasn’t and I was not given an explanation on why.

5.  If you’re looking for something in the grocery store and I am standing nearby, you can just ask me to help you.  You do not need to stand there looking puzzled and saying, “Oh man, I just don’t see what I’m looking for….” and then casually looking over to me.  Because you know what you’re going to see if you do?

You’re going to see Blank Face.  You know what that is?  It’s when I void out all expression from my face so that my obvious “fuck you” thought isn’t apparent just from looking at me.

I just sat here and tried to figure out which of my four humors (sex, food, attention, or sleep) was lacking.  And you know what?

IT IS ALL OF THEM.

1.  I’m watching the Today Show.  They are interviewing this kid who dug a hole in the sand deep enough that, while he was down in the hole, the sides all collapsed inwards and buried him up to his neck.

Now, don’t get me wrong…it would be a bad experience.  And I know the kid was in some danger.

It’s just that they interviewed him after covering the story of the girl discovered 18 years after being kidnapped – who had been kept those 18 years out under some tarps in a rudimentary shelter out behind her kidnapper’s home.  And who gave birth to two children by her abductor.

It sort of makes the kid in the sand hole seem…not so much. I wondered how it would be for the parents of the respective children to meet in the green room.

“Oh, my kid?  Kidnapped 18 years ago and help captive in a tent, giving birth to two kids.”

“Oh.  Mine buried a big hole at the beach and we had to dig him out.”

2.  My mother called me yesterday to make sure I hadn’t been injured in a police shooting that occurred along my walking path to work, right in the Loop in Chicago.  A man was shot and killed.  I told her she’d have probably heard about it had I been involved in any way.  I appreciate her concern but… did I mention she called me about 8 hours after it happened?

3.  It’s Friday.  Weekend plans include hitting the Green City Farmers’ market with my parents tomorrow morning and taking Besos out on a date.  Any suggestions on date plans?  If left to my own devices, who knows where we might end up.

1.  Besos came over last night and as she came inside she groaned and said, “Damn! I forgot my makeup! That’s like forgetting your underwear in Mexico.”

In case you’re wondering:  Correct response:  “You don’t need makeup!”  Incorrect response:  “What are you talking about? None of the Mexican girls I’ve ever met wore underwear.”

2.  Since we’re on the topic of me being stupid, I went into the bedroom last night and yelled out to Besos, “I’m ready!”  She yelled back, “For what?”  I called out, “To start making out!”

She came in and complied.  I then told her that I thought we should do another photo shoot and I might have suggested a picture of her butt.  For the blog.  (I was teasing but she does have a remarkable ass.)  She pulled back and looked at me and said, “You know, men read your blog, too.”

And to be honest, that might have escaped me since I don’t exactly seem to have a huge male following.  I said, “I don’t care. I’m not insecure.  If you run off, I’ll find another hot Latina.”

(more…)

Have you heard of Humorism? It is belief that the body is healthy if the four humors are in balance – black bile, yellow bile, phlegm and blood.

Well, those humors are a bunch of crap. I’ll tell you what the four humors really are.

a) Sex
b) Food
c) Attention
d) Sleep

If any of those four things are not in balance, I am grumpy. I am always in a good mood unless one of those four things has somehow gone awry. If I am stomping around, Besos need only run through that list to figure out what it could be and sure enough, I’m either horny, hungry, needy, or sleepy.   And the solution is simple: Fuck me, feed me, pet me, put me to bed.

I could have been a doctor.

Besos and I had a bit of a double-date weekend as my high-school buddy was in town, girlfriend along with.  We had an interesting conversation about rings that has left me thinking about my relationship with Besos.

Besos likes to remind me that I made her miserable for the first year of our relationship.  Well, I’m flattering myself to think I don’t still make her relatively miserable.  But, in particular, I think the worst was the first four months when I refused to date anyone exclusively.    She handled it well.  She managed to often retain a level of relative patience while I insisted on my alone time and autonomy, said incredibly stupid things, and tried to learn Spanish.

And then, at some point last winter, I decided… Mine.  I know this sounds piggish.  I didn’t mean to go all apelike but there you have it.   Some part of me wanted to stick a flag in her and declare her part of RandomEsq-land.  Instead, we went out on a date, walked along Michigan avenue in the snow, wandered into a jewelry store and when she indicated that she liked a ring, I bought it on the spot.

And I’m not going to lie.  The ring was sort of like my flag.  I wanted it visible from a distance and I wanted it to say, “you no can have.”

During our double-date on Saturday night, the topic of rings came up and I said that a ring says “Bought and paid for.” This brought up a round of protests from the table.  We discussed engagement rings and I declared myself a traditionalist who was going to get an engagement ring so big that it not only said bought and paid for but also “and you can’t afford her.”  This is really just me being an asshole.  I know this.

Following dinner, Besos and I went back to my loft and made love.  And afterwards, both staring up at the ceiling, I heard her whisper, “I don’t want anyone but you to ever touch me.”

I sat up on one elbow and said, “What did you say?”

She looked at me and said, “I don’t want anyone but you to ever touch me.”

And you know what?

It was better than a ring.