Also known as "Don't they make a cream for this?" Today I've been married for exactly 7 years. We know this because we argued about the date all week then finally dug up the marriage certificate and called my mother for back up. Most people I realize know the date they got married but my large furry life partner and I have a rather strange concept of stuff like this.

I grew up watching women moan and wail about how lousy their anniversary gifts were, and the men scramble around and pretend they had a very good reason for forgetting the date yet again. Same goes for birthdays, valentines day, celebrate your 'ho days, whatever. But really, isn't it JUST a date? A day in the calender created by society and/or credit card companies that says you should pretend to care more? Sorry, but Mr. Two Cheeses and I don't need a stupid date for an excuse to buy each other useless gadgets, jewelry or to throw frying pans at each other.

We do that anyway.

Sometimes I blather on about Tommy and what a weirdo he is, sometimes I go years without mentioning his name. A good friend of mine from here that's now gone (max) from the site was actually mad at me when he found out I was married, could not understand why I never mentioned him before. I'm like, I live with the large smelly animal do I need to talk about him online too?

But just this once, today since we've decided to kinda celebrate this 7 year mark I'm going to share a bit about Tommy.

He's hilarious. He's also extremely well read, appreciates a good book more than any American man I've ever met, much less a former Marine. He's very intelligent and also rather idiotic at times. (aint we all) I met him on the rifle range in the Marine Corps and out of well, let's just say a decent number of eligible men I chose to date him since he was the funniest man I'd ever met. Him and I have alot in common, both anti-religious republicans (an oxi-moron I understand), both love to read, both of us like cheese. He has a love affair with cheese I cannot explain properly. It's partly how he got his knickname (or mafia name) Tommy Two Cheeses. There are sandwiches named after him in Boston.

He loves cars, loves to tinker, loves to break things even more, loves to eat, loves to cook, loves to take care of me and treat me like some demanding difficult woman even when truthfully I'm not. He loves me. Even when I'm being an utter bitch he follows me around bringing cups of tea. He loves to argue, loves to debate politics. Loves to be the bad guy, loves to have the alternate view of anything. Used to love to bike ride (he was a bike messenger in boston for years) loves insane punk music like the Crumbsuckers, DOA, loves the clash more than some people love their own wives. Loves me unconditionally. Loves to shop, loves to travel, loves to learn. Loves beer ALOT. Loves me even if I cannot have children. Did I mention he loves cheese?

He's also a very relaxed guy. Not much gets him worked up, he grew up in a house that no one ever ever ever raised their voices. Had a genius for a father and is rather brilliant himself. Has a natural ability to handle extreme situations, and is why he works in emergency response field now.

Once, on a date just before we married (we lived together for 3 years before we married) a car mowed down a man on a motorcycle directly in front of us. He, without taking a split second to so much as blink, swung the car to block the traffic, put blinkers on, grabbed a kit in the back seat and hopped out while dialing 911 and taking note of what street/intersection we were on. Went and spoke with the man ran down, ascertain his injuries. Realized the man's neck was broken and just kept him still while the ambulance arrived a minute or two later then ran over and took care of the woman who was on the back of the bike, informing the emt workers to take care of the man as the woman (he'd seen out of the corner of his eye) was going to be fine aside from maybe a broken bone or two. I asked him after he calmly got back inthe car what was going on, he said that the man would be dead in a matter of minutes probably and he had just wanted to make sure he wasn't alone when he died. Hence why he left the woman on the curb. I was hysterical. He was subdued, and started the car up and continued the rest of the 7 hour drive we were making from Michigan to North Carolina. I wish I had that ability. Actually, I wish I had 1/100th of his abilities in just about anything. Have you ever heard the theory that we live many lives, slowly perfecting ourselves in each one? Well in my opinion Tommy Quinn is a very very old soul indeed and I often feel like an infant just watching him.

Which makes me think, why am I and so many people such morons? cherries=morons. Perhaps you are not following my line of thinking. Why eat, see or do something you know you will regret not long after? See as in.. "I rented this disney film about a foreign culture and..."

But I/we do it anyway. It's fun and obviously I/we have issues with memory.

I remember in school once, our teacher told us that in ancient times people had no real concept of why they got pregnant or how. They knew sex was involved, or that they had to be sexually active, but not exactly how that worked. And we all said "that's so stupid! How can they not associate the act of sex with a baby if it's always about 9 months after? They'd catch on eventually!"

But she had a great answer I remember to this day..

"Well people eat asparagus and 20 minutes later freak out because their urine smells odd. What makes you think they can remember/associate hopping in the sack with someone 9 months earlier??"

Aren't people supposed to be depressed during the winter holidays (lack of sunlight or something) then chipper idiots in spring? Last four years I seem to be getting the opposite. I should clarify; since I moved here I get the opposite. Never had depression problems before anyway, until I came here. Gee, they are so friendly here I wonder why? I think it's the ensuing heat. Makes me insane. Not just me though, I've a new stalker.

Well, I shouldnt tease, people here have had to deal with real ones, and it isn't pretty.

Me, no, I just have a 30something man who looks normal in every way, is even attractive if he wasn't a freakin nutcase and drives a brand new bmw 750 or something.. He follows me on my walk in his car. I live next to the new palace. It's insane, this huge huge beast of a palace topped in gold across the street. The only safe place to walk around here (it goes past some of the embassies, Palestinian embassy, Kuwait's, etc, has their own guards so very safe) and it's about 6 street blocks in size so a good distance for me. I have to walk to excersize my useless jacked up back.

Anyway, about a month ago this guy drives up and starts harassing me. Follows me around the palace for a bit, until the cars behind him start honking and yelling. Then they start honking and yelling Arabic obscenities at ME, thinking I am soliciting or something. Not that I blame them, why in the hell should this guy chat me up otherwise? I should add I look like a scum when I walk. Big hooded sweatshirt no matter the heat, long pants, I look faintly like a homeless person I imagine.

Every few days, there he is again, following me around bothering the sh*t out of me. It stresses me out, but what can I do? If only I could catch this guy's licence plate.

Ok, I started to talk about how depressed I've been lately, but that got depressing so I switched to my stalker. I've no idea where I'm going with this. Probably my only entry for another 6 months. *sigh*

Oh yeah, and I think I may be in trouble. Early last week I was really down in the dumps, got pissed drunk on this awful cheap scotch (crown royal, god i hate that stuff, just because it comes in a velvet bag folks doesn't mean you should give it to me as a gift.. this is NOT real scotch!), went online and wracked up a huge bill at victoria's secret.com. At least I am now chilling out around the house in really cute new butterfly slippers and matching jammies.