Men’s Logic

The other day, I was explaining to my friends how the people in my house all sleep naked. It was a moment of over-sharing, and truth be told, we are about to have another one.

You see, THEY sleep naked. I, on the other hand, always wear what my husband lovingly (but also very disparagingly) calls my “armour”. I wear pajamas. Not the sexy kind either, though I do own lots of lingerie for those “other” occasions.

No, bedtime to me means wearing pajama pants and t-shirts, or full-length (or almost full-length) nightgowns, or sometimes pajama pants, t-shirts and those almost full-length nightgowns as one ensemble, especially if it’s winter. Oh yeah, and I often wear wool socks.

My husband complains – “Oh there she goes, putting on her ‘armour’ again.” When he says this, he is inevitably rolling his eyes.

To which I reply, “What do you think I am, a sex goddess twenty-four hours a day?”

Men's Logic | TheFurFiles

“Yeah.” He has no hesitation, which is good. It is the right response.

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Did I Choose The Right Man?

Before I go any further, I just want to make something clear for my husband who is probably reading this and flipping his lid right about now. The short answer is yes, yes I DID choose the right man. It’s OK dear, I simply thought the question would make a catchy blog title. You can go back to watching your motorcycle racing.

Did I Choose The Right Man | TheFurFiles

Now to proceed with what I was going to say…

As I observe my young adult children navigating the ups and downs of intimate relationships, I often wonder who they’ll end up with long term, if anyone. And thinking this makes me contemplate what it takes to make a relationship last. And then I say to myself, “Hell, I should know. I have a good relationship, and I’ve been with my husband for twenty-five years.”

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So You Think You Are Ready To Be An Adult?

I always tell my kids, “Don’t rush too fast to grow up. Enjoy the freedom of youth while you can.” Of course, they don’t listen to me, but what do I expect? I didn’t listen to my parents either.

Anyway, in an effort to slow them down a little – especially my two boys – I wrote this little story. Who am I kidding? I wrote it to scare the shit out of them. And yeah, I know, it’s a little harsh, but extreme sarcasm is the only way I know to get them to pay attention.

So You Think You Are Ready To Be An Adult? | TheFurFiles

Check this out. You are on the verge of real adulthood. You think you are “all that” – that you can handle just about anything – and then this happens…

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Facebook Loser

“How many friends do you have on Facebook?” It’s my twenty-year-old son asking me this. His questions are generally meant to make me look bad.

Can you do a one-armed handstand? Do you know how to do the wop? How many boyfriends did you have in high school? No, no, and none? Loser. Stuff like that.

I haven’t answered the Facebook question yet. I’m trying to think. In the end, I have to look it up. “Two hundred and twenty-five,” I say. To me, that’s a lot. It’s not like I have four.

“You added some of them, right?” he smirks.

“Of course,” I say. “Who gets all of their friends without adding any?”

“Our cat, that’s who. Archie has eighty-two friends, and he didn’t add ANY of his. They all added him.”

Yes, our cat has his own Facebook account, which – as reported by my all-knowing children – is more common than you might think. According to his information, Archie’s even in a “domestic partnership” with some woman named Ruby Rose. Plus, he’s interested in both women AND men. When he has the time for that, I’ll never know. And this is his current profile picture.

Facebook Loser | TheFurFiles“Awesome,” I say to my son about the cat not having to add a single friend on Facebook. See what I mean about his quest to make me look bad?

And then he turns the screws in a little tighter. “I have thirteen hundred friends, and I didn’t add very many of mine either.”

I give up. “OK, well you and Archie and probably the rest of the world are all Facebook superstars, and I’m just a complete and utter Facebook loser.” I feel marginally inept.

“You said it, not me.” He shrugs his shoulders, and goes back to watching stupid Youtube videos.

Some day – when people like me more than they like him (which may be never, because he IS pretty popular) –  I’m going to get that boy, and by “get” I mean, put some diced tomatoes in his spaghetti sauce because he REALLY hates that. Like what does he think they make spaghetti sauce out of anyway, chocolate? They just blend it so you can’t see the pieces.

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Thanks, I Get It Now Corey Hart

This is how my brain works…

The other day, I heard about Cory Monteith’s death. They said it happened because he did heroin and then drank alcohol, or because he drank alcohol and then did heroin – either way, it’s a lethal mix. Sad story, for sure. I still don’t like Glee.

Then I thought, Cory Monteith – Cory, Cory, Corey – like Corey Hart? Both Canadian. And no, we don’t all name our kids that here in Canada. At least, I didn’t. I did know a Cory/Corey once back in high school though.

Anyway, thinking of Corey Hart made me wonder about that damn sunglasses’ song. I’ve never quite been able to figure it out.

So I called Corey up – Corey Hart, not Cory Monteith obviously – and I asked him. He’s not famous anymore. I knew he’d take a random call.

We didn’t chat for long. I got right to the point. “I get the beginning of the sunglasses’ song, Corey – ‘I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can watch you even breathe your story lies’…or whatever. It’s just the rest of it that sounds fucked up to me. Can you sing it again, and this time, make the words more clear?”

Canadians are obliging, so he did.

Thanks, I Get It Now Corey Hart | TheFurFiles

“Ahhh, I get it now,” I replied, feeling much better. I then went on to make dinner untormented for the first time in over twenty-five years.

End of story.

NOTE: For any person who actually thinks I called Corey Hart to ask him such a silly question, thereby insulting him and making light of his entire music career – and there WILL be a few of you (Donna) – well, I didn’t. It’s a joke. Lighten up.

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