Bra-less Troll Dolls

According to Word Press analytics, 80% of my readers are women.* And on Monday, when I was having what I found to be the most entertaining conversation of all time, I naturally assumed you would, too.

While it seems that gay-men-BFFs are still on the rise for city-dwelling ladies, my equivalent to this is my very good friend El Hefe. While he isn’t gay and doesn’t particularly care about the majority of the information I launch at him (i.e. if we only eat once a day in Vegas, we’ll save so much money) I continue to talk at him.

And, it works wonders on my relationship since Boyfriend usually plugs his ears and starts in on “la-la-la-la” if I use the words uterus, tampon or period in his presence. (Not cramp though, for that he takes pity on me.)

PS – If you ever want to train your sig-other not to do something annoying, in my case fart all.the.time. audibly and in my presence, begin to explain the menstrual cycle. It’s amazing how quickly the farting stopped.

SPOILER ALERT: Yes, the following content is totally about my monthly visit from Flow.

Me: Omg. I’m craving a cheeseburger.

El Hefe: I was last week, I wanted a Red Robin Burnin’ Love burger

Me: Omigod I’m dying

El Hefe: Oh yeah? Because…

Long Pause

Me: I want a vacation.

El Hefe (2:43 pm): I fell asleep in my desk chair for a bit. Eh, my neck is sore now. I think I’m going to go hit golf balls tonight, want to come practice?

More pointless chitchat, mostly surrounding El Hefe’s relationship status. (If you are a red head between 5′-5’4″ and golf, I have the perfect guy for you.)

Me: Cramps. Sorry. (You’re welcome.)

El Hefe: Gross.

Me: Just be lucky that based on my calendar we won’t be traveling together when this is happening. Otherwise, it’d be all ow-this and cramp-that and i-might-vomit and GETMECHOCOLATENOW.

El Hefe: So are you just useless for like 4-5 days every month?

Me: Only the first and second day usually. I get really tired and more cry-y than normal.

Like 98% of movies make me cry instead of 90%.

El Hefe: Being a girl must suck.

Me: Life is really hard.

El Hefe: All that, and you have to sit down to pee.

Me: Don’t even get me started on how much i have to pay to keep THIS (motions to face) lookin’ pretty. You’ve seen me in the morning. This shit isn’t free.

El Hefe: It isn’t really the face that is a shocker in the morning, it is usually the hair. Troll doll, minus the colors.

See the hair-resemblance?

Me: I would argue also the lack of bra. I mean I go from 17 to like 35 with the absence of this magical shape shifter.

El Hefe: It does change the silhouette a bit.

Me: When you were in high school, did you know you were gonna be the straight guy that ended up with primarily chick friends?

El Hefe: I was going to say no, but then I caught myself.

*I made this statistic up because I am not sure where to find the true stat or if it’s even offered. I CAN tell you that three people in Alaska read my blog on 9/13. Forreal.

Laundry: Reserved for Marriage

What’s going on right now? Well, let me tell you. My boyfriend (after a superficial conversation with one of my favorite satirist, I have decided to go back to boyfriend over manfriend) is studying for the Professional Engineering Test. And when he’s done studying, he studies a little bit more, eats a snack and then logs his hours. The man uses Excel in his personal life as much as I do at work. Respect.

Anyhow, with all of this studying pulling from the usual stream of attention slash annoying me, I have gotten to spend my free time at my condo, not going to the gym and taking baths.

Oh, and cooking for him because quote, “I am going to need you to make me lots of food while I am studying. I need to eat.” And so I do, because when he passes this test I can quit my job and focus on things like going to JoAnn Fabrics. (Ya right.)

Also note, I do these things with a big, fat smile on my face.

Last weekend I got up early, like 930, on a Sunday. I was zombie-walking around with bed head, coffee and morning breath being all sorts of attractive and eventually found myself trolling Pinterest. Y’know, the usual. I was making use of my Sunday and had no immediate plans to shower.

And then, this happened. I was focused in all of my laziness and Boyfriend says, “Can you help me do laundry today? I really need to do laundry and get six hours of studying in and it would be super helpful.”

There was a really long pause combined with a stare down, followed by me saying, “Are you serious?”

Yeah, I said that. Because I have guidlelines! Standards! We aren’t married. We don’t live together. I have my own laundry, and you don’t see him coming over to fold it for me when I have been bouncing all over the country from one thing to the next. First it’s laundry, then it’s cleaning his house, and before you know it I’m like a part-time wife without the medical benefits or access to his bank account. Besides, it’s important to save something for marriage, it gives them something to really look forward to, and a reason to put a ring on it.

So here we are, me ranting and you finding yourself thinking, “did she do it?”

But we both know I did it. Was there really ever a question in your mind? I turned on ABC Family (for the remainder of the day) and did laps between the couch and the dryer. (And thank you, ABC Family for the Kristen Bell marathon!)

Then I made dinner.