Roses, Candy and Resentment

Romantic?

So this past Sunday was Valentine’s Day.  I don’t pretend to like that day. I never have. I am almost always disappointed.  And this year- I REALLY wasn’t in the mood!  

I didn’t change my Facebook picture to show me and my darling hubby in my profile picture.  Hell, we aren’t even friends on Facebook.  Maybe I just have a bad attitude about it.  Bring on the cupid and arrows.  Fuck it anyway.

It’s no secret to some that we’ve been under a lot of stress and stress is hard on a marriage- we’re no exception.

He’s working a lot and resenting it.  I resent that he resents it and that he thinks I do nothing to contribute.  He resents that I write this blog and spend too much time online without getting paid for it.  He resents A LOT about me.   I’ve probably already said too much.

It’s fucking butterflies and rainbows here, folks.

I thought that no gifts or niceties would be exchanged.  Well, I take that back… I assumed that for the holiday we would refrain from telling each other to screw off.  However, I did warn him to at least get something for our daughter.  He obliged and got her some chocolates, a Bop magazine and an iPod dock with some speakers.  And she was happy.

I guess that made him feel “romantic?”  Did it put him in the mood to make up for tearing up my Edward & Bella poster skipping through the forest that my daughter hung up for me in the laundry room?  (you know the scene…Alice’s vision….Anne of Green Gables…really silly and makes you laugh when you see it)  Well he got pissed at me and while he was a bit inebriated tore it down, ripped it to shreds and threw it out. 

Doing the laundry will not be as fun without you my friends

So because of that asshole-ishness, he got me some stuff too.  Some roses, candy, and will wonders never cease…a Robert Pattinson magazine.  What. The. Fuck?

uhhhh.  the fuck?  damned if I do, damned if I don't.

I just don’t know.  I thanked him, with a closed throat and a tear in my eye.

And what woman’s heart wouldn’t be warmed by THAT.

The Titleist. That in which the Robsession comes full circle.

Remember that episode of Seinfeld ,“The Marine Biologist?”  When they mentioned how great it is when something comes full circle.  It started with Kramer hitting Titleist golf balls on the beach into the ocean.  George keeps lying about his job when he is called upon to use his nonexistent marine biology skills to save a beached whale.  The episode ends with George's dramatic retelling of his struggle with the whale, ultimately revealing that the whale's blowhole had been blocked by a Titleist golf ball.  I mention this episode for a reason and I’ll get to that soon.

I started thinking of this post about a week ago after a huge argument I got into with my husband. “The sea husband was angry that day, my friends... Like an old man trying to send back soup in a deli.”  Like most of the arguments we have, this one stemmed from my over-obbsessiveness about “certain” things.  And “why can’t you be more ‘normal’ and hang out with ‘real people’ instead of living a fantasy life?“ “Why do you spend so much time on the internet stalking Robert ‘Patterson’ (that’s what Mr. Cupcake he calls him)  -And : “Ooooh, Rob got a haircut,  Rob took a walk,  Rob took a shower,  Rob took a shit.”  “Why don’t you do something productive once in a while”, yada yada yada….

So I start question my “Robsession.”  And am I really going overboard?  I mean, I don’t think so.  I really don’t look at the minute details of his life do I?  I was going to write a post defending myself about NOT doing any of those things.

And then the week started.

On Wednesday, there was an awesome video posted on ROBsessed by Biel with the Amy Whinehouse song, “Rehab.”  No-no-no, I don’t want anything to change.  I like being addicted to Rob.  It’s really awesome! If you haven't already, you should watch it.  He is my fix.  

Then, we got some more tasty pictures of the Eclipse meadow scene.  Just a tiny taste.

The very same day we got some Remember Me stills.  Yummy, even better.

Oh, well would you look at that… 

In the back of my head I hear a very annoying voice saying (sarcastically) “Rob took a shower”

Whatever.  Because what I found most disturbing about seeing this picture was the fact that I didn’t really focus on a wet Rob.  I didn’t even focus on his very long fingers poking Emilie de Ravin in the tit.  Or, wow, they need to get out of those wet clothes and start bangin soon!

No. All I saw was the grime and mildew on the grout.  I was completely cockblocked by my phobia of dirty, germy bathrooms.  All I wanted to do was shoe Rob and Emilie away and spray down the stall with Tilex.  That’s sad.

Here’s where it starts going downhill.

Rob bought underwear.  

And we all stopped and took notice!

Moon and UC broke it down “Vanity Fair” style perfectly over on Letters to Rob.  It was AWESOME! I knew it was coming and couldn’t wait.  We all questioned, where he shopped, what kind he bought~ boxers? briefs? Rio cut (shudder)?, what size he bought, where he ate his lunch?

Okay just a tiny bit obsessive. But still within the “normal” range.

We were hit with some "Remember Me” scenes. 

Rob looks confused when she orders dessert first.  Awww.

Dessert first then Lamb Vindaloo.  

Were they out of Mushroom Ravioli?

mmmm, wet limp noodles

dirty cock caulk

Then “it” hit the fan.

Just a few harmless BelAmi set pictures.  Awww Rob is really cute in period clothes.  Awww, Rob is really cute with the dog.  Awww, Rob is really hot when he smokes.

And then the hole in one….

I hear that sarcastic voice again…

“ooooh Rob took a shit”

…and we all “obsessed” over it.

And we are full circle

is that a Titleist?

(Oh and BTW.   Twitarded wrote an awesome post about it as well.  Check it!)

Team Legal!

Happy Birthday Big Boy!

Bumpy Trails?

Hello Team Jacob perverts!


Today is the big day!  No, I am not talking to any tweens out there because if you are reading my blog....go away now.  I'm sure there is a Justin Bieber blog you can drool over.


I am talking to the "older" gals.  Anyone over the age of 25.  Those who should know better than to lust after a little Karate kicking Sharkboy!

Not okay to covet.

You are now free to lust and lust...and lust away.  Big boy Taylor is 18.   Can you smell the candles being blown all around the country.  Candles...ladies... Candles are being blown...Jeez...get your minds out of the gutter.

Even as a little boy.  He clearly has a "thing" for taking off his shirt.

While I am and have always been Team Edward, I can understand your plight these past 8 months.  Ever since we saw the grainy comic con footage of Jacob so kindly removing his shirt to dab poor clumsy Bella's bloody head.  We have not been able to get his underaged, tanned, gleaming, alluring, delectable, 8-packed abs (is it getting hot in here? where was I...oh..) enticing body off our dark little minds.

And yes, I know I am way to old for Robert Pattinson, but does that stop me?  Hellz no!  He drinks.  He smokes. (and looks cool doing it).  He (unwillingly) stars in erotic smutty fan fiction.  He can grow a beard.  The guy is aging at an alarming rate.  Technically he may only be 23, but his "real age" I'm sure is 38.  Old enough for me!!!  Bring it!

He can't really be only 23!

This TOTALLY would be me if I was still in High School

So go forth pervs.  You can now, without any hinderance from Chris Hansen or internet child molester traps, go on with your non-deviant fantasies.


For today, our little Teen Wolf became the Wolfman!

This. To -------------> THIS!

Now go away!

How to Keep Your Inner "Twi-Rob" Geek Busy!

We have little than over a month until we are treated to "The Precious" once again in the form of Tyler Roth in “Remember Me.”  we are almost down to the wire.  The time since the "New Moon" onslaught did see to fly, however, as is the case, this last month will probably be painfully slow and arduous.

What can we do to fill the time?

There needs to be something besides these little one minute Q&A blurbs that Facebook is giving us, in which Rob basically says “uuummm” and “I dunno” for most of the time in an attempt to answer a question about “Remember Me.” 

Those and the few beardy pics we were treated to.  mmmmm….beard….  where was I?  oh…

so…Here are some helpful suggestions to ride out the rest of this drought.

* Twitter- 

I hate you Fail Whale

Meet new and interesting people on Twitter.  Your RL family and friends will think you have gone off the deep end when you start excitedly telling them about the trip you are taking to Forks with, as they call them “complete strangers that may be serial killers or fat-lonely-cat-lady-nerds”  Or as I refer to them…”My new best friends!”

See you in Forks!

Dorks in Forks!

* Plan trip to Forks - Yup.  I am going with the loverly ladies of Twitarded!   FOOOOOORRRRKKKKSSSS!!  Get ready @Laxplays and @AGirlintheSouth.  I am saving my alcohol and bail money in my New Moon piggy bank.

* Reread Eclipse….Yet again. – Yes, the leg hitch gets us all every time.  They would be crazy not to have included it in the movie.  In fact it may even be in slow motion with boom chicka wah wah porn music set to it!  Sad that this is the most erotic thing we will ever see on the big screen in the Twilight saga.

"Not to bring on the ire prematurely,

but do you mind telling me 

what it is about this bed that you object to?"  swooon

Which is why we have…..

* Fan fiction!  And Rob Manips!

A little light reading and going blind in the middle of the night trying to get the text the right size on my iPhone in the process.  (iPad will be my savior)

"Master of the Universe?"  There's an App for that.

And looking for super hawt manipulations of Edward and Bella getting spanky spanky action or a pierced and tatted up Edward with the hint of an enormous ding dong will keep you plenty busy.

Or find some Rob manipulations for fun.  Rob usually has his hands down his pants in these.  But you can add yourself to any Rob picture as long as he has the right O-face going on.

Too much bathroom floor action. Is he scratching? He may have crabs.

I'm cropped out of the photo again! Damn!

*Work – No…seriously…Catch up on cleaning the house or actually doing some real work at your place of business.  Get ahead now, because once the ball gets rolling next month you WILL fall behind again.  And you need your job to afford beer and bail money in Forks!   FOOORRRKKKSSS!!

I hear there will be Karaoke at the Twilight Lounge?

* Do Yoga. - Like I said, Catch up now.  You will soon be back to sitting on your fat ass in front of the computer with a bag of Doritos and a glass of wine ..or three.

Next we will do the Downward facing Dog.  

Bend at the waist please. 

And breathe deeeep.

Besides... what better time to meditate on Robward.  He is in everything I do anyway.

* Read as many blogs as possible  – That blogosphere a never-ending hall of mirrors.  Once you find one you keep finding more and more.  It’s like navigating a large maze with Harry Potter located on the Quidditch Pitch filled with magical obstacles in the Goblet of Fire.  What was that boys name again?? . 

LTT/LTR, Twitarded, Robsessed, TwiBite... 

uhhh Harry, How do we get out of here?

And on these blogs, Comment as often as possible!  Bloggers need love too.

There you have it ladies.

Let me know what you plan to do while you wait.

You can't see me

oh crap, here they come

I like to be alone.

This is not to say that I don’t enjoy the company of others, or that I don’t have genuine interest in people. I thoroughly enjoy time with friends and acquaintances alike, and I’d say that other human beings interest me more than almost anything else.  I adore people watching.  They are quite strange.

However, enjoying time with others as well as time alone, are not exclusive. While I like people, I need a considerable amount of time to myself. I always have, and I always will. There is a sense of overload if I’m around too many people at once or for too long. I literally require the decompression that being alone brings.

When I was 13, I had my own bedroom and my two younger sisters had to share.  Because I was the oldest!  Don’t judge, it’s one of the benefits of being the first pancake.  Anyway, the parents realized a war was soon brewing from the younger two and decided to prevent the ensuing revolution by building a third bedroom in the basement.  They sat us down expecting a fight of who was going to get stuck in the basement bedroom.   The basement was of course haunted after all.  No one ever wanted to be down there alone.

But no fight.  I immediately called dibs on it, while my sisters said, “fine, no problem, it’s your funeral. Enjoy the poltergeists and dead indians and whatever was buried under the house.”

So, I got my own purple bedroom, with wood paneled walls and a huge book shelf.  I was alone.  I had a lair.  Away from the rest of the family.  And I couldn’t be happier.

all byyyy myyyselllfff.  I wanna be...allll byyy myyyselllff

So yes, I like to be alone. I like to have my thoughts to myself, to be able to control my environment, to be the master of my domain at any given moment. I am a hair away from saying that my sanity actually hinges on my having time alone regularly.

Of course, alone time is VERY hard to come by these days.  Especially when not only do I have to share a bedroom, but a bed as well.  I relish the times when Mr. Cupcake travels.  People ask me all the time if it’s hard to have him away.  Are you fucking crazy!  No way!  I can lock the door, watch what I want on TV, hope the kids go to bed at a decent hour on their own.  (Believe me, since the “Twilight” obsession started last year, they are used to taking care of themselves.)  Drink wine, read my fanfic, find Rob Porn.  It’s my own private lair again.  Even if it is for only a day or two.

I need it.

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