Sundays always have a way of sneaking up on me. For some reason, ever since I was little, I've hated Sundays. Even now, though I don't have a normal 9-5, Monday- Friday job, Sundays, if not handled right, can be awful. Unless they are rainy Sundays. Rainy Sundays are like a free pass to wear sweats and watch bad TV.
This morning was a rainy Sunday. I woke up ready to break all my plans and watch some bad TV and maybe cook dinner. I was expecting the Boy to go visit his friends in Long Island for some football and I was really looking forward to a day alone. Like when I used to live by myself. It's nice to be alone sometimes. Especially when you know someone will eventually come home.
Rather than bore you (and myself) recapping details, basically the gist is - he wishes I cared about football and I wish he could be happy with the fact that we have different interests. He starts naming all the girls that love football, I point out that most of the time girls only love the social aspect of football (I'd be down for going to a bar, ordering some wings and some cherry wheat beer - NOT for sitting at his friends' house with not much else to distract myself - we NEVER go to the bar to eat wings and watch football).
He denies the fact that girls only like football for the social fun of it all.
Anyway, I do not expect him to love Gossip Girl or Sex and the City. Nor do I think it's the end of us or that "we aren't on the same page" when we don't share those interests. He acts like it's dooming to our relationship if we can't love football together. It's so frustrating. I can't change. I can't act like I care. The first thing I was told as a little girl was to never fake who you are for a guy. I'm being true to myself and wind up feeling like I'm in the wrong. Like I'm not living up to his standards. Which is bullshit, of course.
Anyway, he left and I suppose things were good. I told him I'd make dinner and I settled in for a nice afternoon of nails, TV and the couch. When his beloved team lost (yes - I checked the score so I could at least be in the know) I texted him that I was sorry for his loss and that I would make a nice dinner to cheer him up. He responds with "I already ate. Let's make it a late dinner"!
WTF?
Seriously, sometimes when my hormones are all over the place (and they are), I will be the first to admit that I get pretty angry at irrational things. But what part of "I'll make you dinner" made him think it would be a good idea to already eat?
This is the kind of stupid shit men and women have been fighting about for ages. I hate to be part of that cliche.
About Me
- Steph
- I am an only child and some might say I live up to the prototype; I've been to Mount Everest - and no one close to me is at all impressed by that; my dog once took a poop right in front of Ethan Hawke; I was pretty much a pathological liar until the third grade; I keep my old passport because I like to look at the stamps - it makes me feel like I've seen places; most times I prefer sweats to fancy pants but I still can't kick the shoe addiction and don't have enough excuses to wear them all; I have tried almost every kind of mascara on the market and consider myself an expert on the topic - and yet the boy still complains when I wear mascara at all (and secretly that's one of the reasons I love him)... I love my dog more than most humans I know; I still believe in true love, guardian angels and the NY METS; I read the horoscope - but only the previous day - to see if they were right; I love coffee, purple and smoothies and that book about Eloise at the Plaza? I swear it was based on my childhood (minus the Plaza and the filthy rich part)...
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