"…And the Complications…"-Placebo

My favorite quote this week came from a new show, Pushing Daisies.

"You don't know nothing about her except she had soft lips when she was ten."

"That should be enough."

I say that like I'm always doing some "favorite quote" thing. Well, that's cuz I do; you just don't see it. That's right. Just cuz I'm boring, lonely and pathetic, doesn't mean I share all my secrets with you. And pay no attention to what's under my tomatoes in the back yard. It's just my fertilizing secret.

I love quotes. My favorite one from 1986?

"Gee Ricky, I'm sorry your mom blew up."

Yeah, I know, it didn't come out that year, but that's when I heard it. And that's what matters.

Everything on my blog seems to revolve around me, doesn't it? Do you know what somebody emailed me this week? Check this out

Ouch. Sometimes the truth hurts. Some people say it'll set you free. I don't know, I don't find these things contradictory, just unfortunate.

That's the way it was with MyUnwife. Not contradictory, just unfortunate. Maybe we needed more contradictory. I made some cookies last night. They were on the back of a package of butterscotch chips I bought.

"mmm, those look tasty."

I bought the chips and made the cookies. MyUnwife didn't like cookies. Ok, that's not true, so I'm sure she found that statement quite painless, sort of like a beach ball to the head. Here. Feel the Whiffle Ball bat of justice: She didn't not like cookies, they just fell pretty low on her sweets list. She liked brownies, and some pies, and things like that. Things she'd make.

Funny how that worked out. I like cookies, I make them. She liked "things like that" so she'd make those. She also made a mean cheesecake. I only got to taste that tasty treat the first 3 years of our marriage. Each time, for my birthday. They were the coolest. I'm not sure if I liked them so much because they were tasty or because she went to the effort to make them.

See? There's something else you don't know about me. And I'm pretty sure it's something she doesn't know either. For my birthday, we always went out. I would have preferred a nice homemade meal and a slice of cheesecake. Nothing says "I love you" like the personal touch. I mean you can have the Red Lobster kids sing happy birthday, but that's just like going to your neighbor's house and asking:

"Could you tell my husband I love him?"

"uh, ok."

Knock Knock

"Yes?"

"Bob I love you."

"Thanks Pete. I love you too."

But that's me. Soee people would rather hear it from a stranger. It's the intimacy that makes them uncomfortable. Some would rather have it in an email:

MEMO

From: MyUnwife

Re: Pete

I love you.

Like I said, I prefer the personal touch.

I think that brings us back around to our opening TV quote. "Soft lips when she was ten." Maybe you do need to know more, but somewhere beneath my dark sarcasm, I'm a romantic. I'd like to believe that maybe there isn't anything better.

Then again, we see where that got me. Maybe if I can find somebody who had soft ten year old lips, likes to cook on birthdays, and enjoys conversation outside of emails and Post-its. How do I qualify the lip thing? Should I get a resume?

"What did boys think of your lips when you were ten?"

Yeah, that's probably just going to get me a blast of pepper spray. I don't know. Maybe I need to leave the soft lips thing to chance and Chapstick. My wants list is still a work in progress. So am I., I'll need somebody who can deal with that. I do know one thing though. I am still sorry Ricky's mom blew up, and that makes me a better man.