Pork chops, haircuts and a lot of fuss

I am in a wonderful relationship. My boyfriend and I get along so well, we probably make all our friends sick to their stomachs. So why, then, do I go on these neurotic trips where I think the stupidest little thing is going to make him throw his hands in the air and confess "I can't do this anymore! What was I thinking?! I can be with someone who doesn't know how to pick out pork chops!"

Now, I know you are laughing at me right now. And that's ok. Because when I finally confessed to Boyfriend why I was a babbling, nervous mess, we both laughed at the absurdity.

Did I really think he would dump me because I don't know the difference between a loin and a chop? Or because I used the wrong knife to cut an apple? Or I cut my hair too short?

Of course not! I know in my head he wouldn't be so petty. So where on earth did this come from?

My girlfriend in Florida told me she does the same thing.

Florida: I was cooking for my guy the other night and I was scared that if he didn't totally like it he would never speak to me again. Actually, I freak out like that on a daily basis.

Me: Why do we think like this? It makes no sense, if you look at it rationally.

Florida: Because we've allowed people to beat us down and now we don't understand a good thing when we see it.

I think she's right, as usual.

In past relationships, I've gotten into arguments for the most basic decisions. You should've heard the the crap I got when I had my hair cut! Each time I made choices that went against the grain, I had vigorously to defend myself, my feelings and my beliefs. And it chipped away at my confidence a bit at a time. No wonder so many of us have issues with these kinds of things making up our pasts.

How can couples can survive now-a-days with the way people treat one another? It's amazing that two kind, caring people can find each other in this fucked up world. It's one instance where saying, "You Deserve Each Other" is a huge compliment.

It makes me really appreciate relationships like my parents, who have been married over thirty years. Or my friends, who have been together since they were in high school. What they have is nothing short of a miracle.

I just hope Boyfriend and I can keep laughing about these silly episodes of mine.

Maybe eventually, I'll stop worrying... but then that wouldn't be me, now would it?

Unplugged Attempt No. 2

So a couple of months ago, I was watching too much mindless reality TV crap, so I decided to do something about this disgusting, brain-rotting (but OH-So-Deliciously-Delighting) habit of mine.

Don't ask me why I can't stop watching Animal Cops, Big Brother or Daisy of Love -- that's not up for discussion right now. What's really on my mind is that I only lasted about 2 weeks before I plugged that time-sucker back in (that doesn't count the time my friend from Florida got me all in a tizzy because Neil Diamond was supposedly on the Miss America Pageant. He was on the show but the show wasn't on my TV. Florida forgot about the time difference -- I was very disappointed. Really.)

Now I'm hooked more than ever before -- and it's time to stop. Why? Because of two very good reasons.

Reason for Turning Off the TV Number ONE: It makes time go by too fast.
I'm terrified of how quickly time goes by and I want to enjoy every single moment. Sometimes that includes curling up and watching an entertaining television program. But most of the time, I end up flipping through the channels a d picking the best of the crappy shows to keep me amused while I eat or procrastinate. The next thing I know, three hours have gone by and I am left wondering, "How it could have possibly disappeared so quickly?! I just turned the TV on?!" It's absolutely devastating and ultimately depressing that time just vanished right in front of my eyes.

Reason for Turning Off the TV Number TWO: There's so many thing on my To-Do list.
I love to read, write, draw, do puzzles, play with my cat, take a walk, go for a run and especially sleep. That's all stuff I could be doing instead of vegetating while watching strangers make fools of themselves in the name of love, money, or sex (Animal Cops excluded). Let's not forget to mention all the chores I never get around to doing. There's so much to do that the guilt sometimes feel like its going to eat me alive. That's a big burden to carry just so I can watch meaningless television.

I think the biggest problem is that I let myself get sucked in way too far.

One hour a night is not bad, especially compared to what the average American watches. But I take it to a level where I can't turn it off, and then I sit and do nothing. And I feel guilty for not doing anything, so I watch more TV. And I am sure most people don't get this neurotic... but I do. That's what's important. I am happier when I have the TV turned off, so that's why I'm unplugging it again.

Now, I'm telling everyone so that if I fall off the wagon and happen to mention the crazy thing that Daisy did with 12 Pack, you all can give me a strict talking to and make sure I unplug the damn machine again. Ugh!

Getting Lucky

I don't gamble.

Why should I? I might as well dump the contents of my wallet out the window for all the good it does me. I have terrible luck not just with slot machines and blackjack tables but with any kind of raffle, lottery, contest or game.

And I am okay with that.

Boyfriend and I both believe that while we have bad luck at games, we have very good luck in life. And honestly, which would you rather have? So we are happy with what fate has given us, or what it hasn't.

That's one reason why gambling was the last thing on our list of To-Do's on our trip to Vegas. This was my first time meeting The Family and I was very relieved when we all got along amazingly well. Fortune was holding up its end of the bargain and overall we were having a blast.

We even found a dollar on the floor while wandering around The Strip. I kicked something and Boyfriend said, "Wait! There's money pick it up!" It was a folded-up dollar bill.

"It must be lucky," I joked, "We'll have to play it at the casino."

It wasn't until we were killing time before heading to the airport that we had a chance to test our dollar's luck. We were running a little late because we lost track of time (and margaritas) at happy hour. We decided to just walk through the casino on our way to grab a cab and put it in the first machine we found.

"Maybe it will at least pay for our drinks," I teased. Neither of us thought anything would really happen.

I turned to my right and there was a dollar slot machine. "This one," I said, "I stopped in front of it so it has to be the one."

Boyfriend had to show me where to put the bill into the machine (that's how long it had been since I attempted gambling) and I hit the big button. "You won a dollar, do it again."

I hit the button with slight touch of aggression for fun.

"You won five."

Slap.

"That's ten! Keep going!"

Slap.

"Twenty!"

Okay, one more time and I'm done. I'll feel stupid losing it all, I thought.

Slap.

And then the little number on the screen started spinning -- and spinning.

"Hey, this was a good one... Oh crap!"

I didn't quite believe what I was seeing but all of a sudden the machine was ringing and it blinked nonchalantly on the screen "$461."

"Cash out! Cash out!" Boyfriend cried. I didn't know how so this time he slapped the button.

With uncontrollable giggles, we headed frantically to the cashier (or whatever the person who sits behind those bars is called.) Next thing I knew, there was $461 in my hands and Boyfriend was practically jumping up and down from excitement. We went straight from there to the front of the hotel, grabbed our bags, hopped in a cab and were on our way to the airport, with gigantic grins on our faces.

Our cab driver was a friendly guy and as he was chatting away he noticed our extremely happy moods. "So how was your trip?" he asked.

"Well, it's funny you should ask..."Boyfriend started, and we began giggling all over again.