Monday, November 29, 2010

THANK..God that's over

I've never liked Thanksgiving. I say this every year and even though sometimes I can't remember why I don't like the holiday, I quickly remember as I wipe off the last of the pumpkin pie. My stomach just can't handle the amount of food and I usually spend the rest of the evening ill and bloated. But, I've never had a really GREAT Thanksgiving. Something usually goes awry, like a missed ingredient or when my mother stormed out of the kitchen after a smart remark from my grandfather about "mushy mashed potatoes."

Although The Viking and I had been talking for a few weeks last Thanksgiving, this was our first Thanksgiving together. I filled him in on my discontent for the holiday, but he told me to relax, not to worry and that he'd do all the cooking. Just what I wanted to hear! So he did. He injected the turkey with some flavored gooey stuff, rubbed it down with some other spicy stuff and then proceeded to make all the side-dishes.

This is what it looked like when it came out:

What did I do? (Thoughts of that ignorant Wal-Mart customer plagued my mind) I cut up the vegetables, prepared the table, cut the pepperoni and cheese and drank copious amounts of wine.

Anyway, he was right, the holiday went smoothly. His parents were happy, he was happy and I was happy until my tummy rumbled and I remembered why I disliked the holiday again. Although it was our first one together, it will go down in my memory as another uneventful Thanksgiving.

I will admit, I usually don't mind cleaning but cleaning up that mess was, well a mess!! After all the dishes were cleaned, the leftovers put away and the lights off, I told him next year, we're going to my mothers. And for her, I'm thankful.

On a side note, we spent our free time watching the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, something he had never seen. He swears it's an updated version of Star Wars. I'll have to try and do another blog post on that topic alone b/c I think he might be right.

Anyway, Happy belated Thanksgiving.

Monday, November 22, 2010

What's Mine is Yours and What's Mine is Mine

So, it's been about three weeks now sine The Viking moved in and there are a few things I've learned. Here they are in no particular order:

The Living Room:
  • The Viking has the ability to shed clothes and strew them around the living room, without actually un-fastening a button or using his arms to pull off a t-shirt.
  • I didn't realize there were so many sports channels.
  • Papers and other important documents will not be moved from the spot they were opened unless I move them myself. 
The Bathroom:
  • The Viking has a knack for cleaning the bathroom floor with water while taking a shower.
  • The Viking thinks the bathroom shower walls are ideal for getting hair out of his razor. 
  • The Viking does not understand that a bathroom door is meant to be shut when doing private business. 
  • The Viking hits the mirror and counter-top perfectly with toothpaste. 
The Bedroom
  • The Viking snores more than I remember. 
  • The Viking thinks I hog the bed. 
The Kitchen
  • The mess made from The Viking is best left for me to clean-up.
  • The Viking will pretty much take any leftover and make it a meal. No matter the mash-up. 
  • My dishwasher has never seen so much action.
  • It's a guarantee I'll have to wipe the counters down when returning from work each day. 
Misc. 
  • The Viking has his own laundry-service - me.
  • The Viking recently had to be schooled on the days of the week and the number of underwear in the laundry basket. 
  • The Viking does not like Christmas music. 

These are just little things I've come to realize over the past few weeks. I know there are many things we'll both learn about each other as time goes on.

And let me be the first to say - I know I'm not easy to live with. I'm moody and grumpy and generally in a lousy mood most of the day. I nit-pick and have a severe obsession with cleaning. And I torture the crap out of him - tickling him in the spot he hates, holding his nose while he's just drifting off into sleepytime or putting my stinky feet in his face while he watches a movie. Juvenile? Yes, but the great thing is, he let's me be a kid when I want to be a kid. 

But it's all about compromise and working together. Wow, I sound like an adult. 

What annoying things or habits does your significant other have? 

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

How "The Viking" became The Viking

So, I got a question from my Twitter friend @punkyjen. How did The Viking come to be called The Viking? A lot of people already know the story but for those who don't and want to know, here it is...

I LOVE Halloween and every year I have a pretty elaborate Halloween party my best friend and I dub, The Masquerade. Last year, we themed the party, "The Night of the Living Dead." I dressed up as a dead Marilyn Monroe and my best friend was a dead Jackie O. No, we didn't have a dead Jack with us.

Don't we look hot?

Anyway, an old high school friend reached out to me on Facebook and asked what I was doing. "Having a party." I told him. "Want to come?"

"Are you sure you know what you're asking?" he responds. This guy I knew had a reputation of frequenting the local parties and well, I knew he'd bring the fun so I said, "yeah come on."

"I'm bringing some friends, cool?" he asked.

"Absolutely."

"You do know what you're saying right?" he said, like he was warning me of something. The parties always tend to get a little out of hand anyway, why is he warning me I wondered. "Yes, come on," I said again.

So at 8 p.m. sharp, when the party started in walks four guys looking like this:




They came to "pillage and plunder" they said as they walked through the door.I guess that guy (Ryan) was only preparing us for their onslaught. And boy did they pillage and plunder! They stayed in character for most of the night, eating food in their hands and without utensils, fighting themselves and taking guests hostage. It was quite a sight and a little frightening, but don't tell them I said that.

Okay so which one is My Viking? Of course he's the only one smiling.

To make an even longer story short, My Viking, whose real name is John, and I went to the high school. He graduated a year prior to me but we had similar friends and probably went to the same parties. Although he didn't tell me until weeks after, he had a crush on me in high school. Everyone now - a  collective AWWWWWW :)

Even though I knew who he was when he walked into my party, it was what he did that intrigued me the most - and that was turning the volume up on the 80s channel and dancing to Boy Meets Girl's "Waiting for a Star to Fall."

Needless to say, that has become OUR song. Okay another AWWWWWW.....

So it just happened from there and I think knowing that we went to the same high school, grew up in the same area and knew the same people, only helped our connection that much more.

So this is why John is My Viking. It was something I started calling him on Twitter and Facebook and gradually picked up by friends. He will always be The Viking, even if I rarely call him that to his face - usually it's Ogre but that's a different story.

Back off ladies, those abs made of marker are mine! :)

Saturday, November 13, 2010

A trip to Wal-Mart and a Foot in the Mouth

Last night, The Viking and I took the plunge and ventured to Wal-Mart. It was my idea, solely based on the fact that my friend Mary said she leaves the place with a month's worth of food for a family of four for under $100. The caveat? She buys America's Value, essentially, the Wal-Mart brand.

It's only been ten days since The Viking moved in and my cupboards were getting bare. He's a big boy - 6'3 and about 225 lbs. And he likes meat. No, LOVES meat. I for instance, as sad as it is, could live off microwavable food and Ramen noodles. I have quickly learned, that won't cut it for The Vik.

Figuring if Mary could leave the dreaded Wal-Mart satisfied that her family won't go hungry, we gave it a shot. Let me say, it wasn't AS bad as we thought. It was clean and fairly empty (minus the grocery part of course.) In a mission to locate sugar-free cookies for his father for Thanksgiving, one guy proceeded to help me locate and find the "best-tasting" cookies. "Thanks," I said, surprised by his helpfulness. Later, that same guy even helped me locate sugar-free Crystal Light - also for The Vik's dad in two weeks.

With our cart full of meat and as Mary suggested, an assortment of "America's Value" products, we headed to the check-out line. The conveyor belt could have been a little larger but our check-out lady had lighting fast hands. Anyway, while checking-out that very helpful guy comes up behind us and begins to make conversation. I could tell The Viking felt a little uncomfortable. This dude, although he meant well, was a little awkward and just a tad odd.

"Nice to run into you all again," he said.

The Vik smiles.

"I assume you're married. This is your wife?" he gestures to me.

We aren't married but hearing someone say that sent a surge through my body. I could see The Vik shift his footing. "Ah, not yet." he said quickly.

"Well, congratulations," the guy said.

Congratulations? Odd that he would say that. I continue to pull groceries out of the cart.

The guy then tells us that he's single and "still playing the dating game."

"So she does all the cooking?" he asks.

"NO!" I exclaim as if he knew my aversion to the kitchen. The Viking giggles. Knowing my kitchen phobia, he says, "No, I do."

And here's the kicker.....

"You do?" The stranger asks surprised. "Well, what is she good for then?"

WHAT??!!! I couldn't believe this dude was saying that in front of me! I bit my tongue. The Viking was clearly uncomfortable and tells the guy I'm good at cleaning.

My response? "Nocturnal activities." I don't think he got it.

Walking to the car, we both thought the dude had a lot of nerve to say what he did. "Probably why he's still single," The Vik said.

Yeah, but boy, it really sucks to have a stranger make you contemplate your abilities. So today, I cleaned the shit out of my house. Take that buck-o!

Anyone else have strange Wal-Mart encounters? I can't wait until our next trip. Oh and by the way, we left with a bill of $140 and that included a turkey for Thanksgiving, some cleaning supplies and wax for our cars. Not bad Wal-Mart, not bad.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Note to self: Get The Viking out of the house on game days.

So last night, The Viking and I headed out to a local pub to watch the first half of the Ravens Game.  Having moved from Florida where he usually spent every Sunday in a crowded fan filled sports bar in Boca Raton, I could tell he was in need of some male bantering. The type of NFL stats, trade, player and history talk that I can't provide since I just started watching the game about three years ago. Frankly, it makes my eyes glaze over.

Although somewhat crowded for a Thursday night, the bar atmosphere was dead. (Side note: I don't like the place. The food is lousy and I only go for convenience and the Magners) After a play was made, for instance, The Viking claps loudly. It echoed through the bar and was followed by stares and silence. "Ah okay," he looks around, head down, arms out as if he's giving up. "Honey, you aren't in Florida anymore," I said.

We stayed until half-time. He finished a bucket of beers (total of 6) and I enjoyed the cider. We got a tip that another local joint (with excellent food I might add) had happy-hour prices all day on Sunday - game day. Score!

We arrive home at ten and by 45 after I'm half asleep on the couch. He encourages me to go upstairs, so I do, happily. I'm comfortable in bed yet sleep escapes me. For the rest of the night I hear him talking to the television. It seems as if he's literally having a conversation with the sportscaster. He shouts, claps loudly, agrees, disagrees and basically spends the rest of the evening entertaining himself in front of the TV. I don't say a word, b/c to tell you the truth, I found it funny.

Although I did almost jump out of bed when he said he wanted to throw something, but I figured he knew better.

Next time I'm recording this for your enjoyment and closing the door or sending him out for the entire game so I can sleep!

Although he likes Bud Light, his love for the Ravens is one of the many reasons we get along so well. Although I could do a little without the sports stats, trading dilemmas and general football fiasco's.