In a fit of fiscal responsibility, I canceled my cable about a week ago, and then last night I realized I was gonna miss the intellectually stimulating Real Housewives of Orange Country reunion special.
I wasn't even gonna see Ned last night, rich Ned with his cable. Ever since Ned and I decided to do our 90-day, same-as-cash reunion, we've been gone. Either I'm out of town or he is. So I got back to town Saturday, and he leaves this morning. Then he gets back Friday and leaves Saturday.
Fun.
The point is, as soon as I got home this Saturday, we saw each other, and then again Sunday, so on Monday night he called me after disk bulge physical therapy. "What do you want to do tonight?" he asked.
"Ned, I know we're not gonna see each other till Friday, but I am exhausted," I said, and I can't imagine why. Couldn't be m'diet. "Do we have to do something?"
"Of course not," said Ned, who announced he was going home to feed his cat, then to dinner.
So when I realized I was going to miss the reunion last night, and that a mature individual could wait till the next day and watch it on her app--and yes I have a Bravo app and why don't you shut up--I called Ned back. Because there's no point in pretending I'm mature.
"Hello, Ned," I cooed, trying to sound seductive. Maybe if I seemed hot, he'd be amenable to letting me watch his very least-favorite show of all time at his house.
"Are you okay?" he asked, as I sounded vaguely like I'd swallowed hot mustard.
"Yes, I'm fine," I snapped. "But the Real Housewives reunion is tonight."
"I TOLD you not to cancel your cable," said Ned, who is my immaturity enabler. I'd already eaten, so Ned said, "I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll leave my back door unlocked and turn the TV to Bravo, so if you get here before I'm done with dinner, you can just come in and start watching."
And that's just what I did. If you break all laws, you can get to Ned's in just four minutes, so I left my house at 7:55 and got there just before it started. Oh, it was exciting.
NedKitty ate my hair while I watched, and eventually Ned got back and looked at the TV a second, shook his head disapprovingly because sporting events are so much more honorable to watch, and went upstairs to pack for his next goddamn trip. They should stop calling them "trips" and just call them "professional cockblocks."
"Who's that one with the lips?" he asked once he'd packed. The one with the lips. Oh, that narrows it down. I think he meant Kelly. So then I had to tell him just how horrible Kelly is. Kelly says really, really mean things and then when people accuse her of going too low, she repeatedly asks, "Are there rules? Are there rules that say I can't fight dirty?"
Yes. They're called the rules of human decency.
Kelly is lucky she doesn't have blonde hair and brown eyes, is all I can say.
"Is that Vicki?" he asked later. "The one who lied about her boyfriend having cancer?" Last night, Vicki actually told one of the other women to get off her show. Her show. Hey, nutty. How's your grand delusion?
"It occurs to me, Ned, that you got a whole year of missing all the housewives," I noted. I wouldn't say he's been missing it, Bob. Ned once said that the formula for these shows is you take a bunch of pretty women and shake 'em up--with a bunch of bees. See what happens. Really, the best part of these reunions is watching Andy Cohen's bemused face as he mentally counts his cash.
Anyway, that was that, and now tonight Ima go see Rocky at the old movie theater. When I was a kid, we lived near a movie theater; you could see it from our house. So in the summer, when I was bored, I'd go to the dollar movie during the day, in the air conditioning. I saw Rocky approximately 20 times. I am not kidding. Same with The Sting.
The Sting is a really hard movie to understand, so it was good to see it that many times.
Also, Robert Redford.
Oh! I almost forgot. I was so busy informing you of the pressing events of our time. I wanted to ask you about two things today--you can respond to either or both.
First of all, have you or anyone you've known been in a relationship that hit a rough spot--you know, like being broken up for 14 months, just to throw a scenario out there--and survived? I want success stories. So far things with Ned are great, but I'm realistic. We're in the novelty of the reunion. Yes, we've got a plan in place for how we're going to do better, but do these things actually ever work? Do tell.
Also, we talked yesterday in the comments about things that make you irrationally angry. Like, FR Paula H&B said she gets irrationally angry when her purse falls off the car seat as she drives.
Same.
But I get angry all the time. I have a temper like a, you know, temper person. If I were a mattress, I'd be a Tempur-Pedic. If I were a band, I'd be the Temper-tations. If I were a magazine, I'd be Mad. I've always been that way. My aunt, when she visited recently, talked about a time I was 3, when I stormed down the hall to my room, stomp stomp stomping all the way, and I slammed my door pointedly, just in case everyone didn't know I was furious, and the door popped back open, so I slammed it again.
Pop!
Goddammit.
So, yes, the purse off the carseat does make me angry, as do things I try a couple times and fail at, such as securing a necklace. I'm normal maybe three times, but if I still can't clasp it the fourth time,
GODDAMMIT.
Oh, and if I get too many calls, texts and emails in a row. Like, the day I got back to town, I was just trying to unpack and settle back in, and every time that phone dinged at me I was furious. I mean, I had the choice to ignore said phone, but I still got mad.
Why? Why so cranky?
So now you go. Relationship falter/success stories, and also stories about what makes you irrationally angry. Do tell.
