Thoughts from a warm bed on a cold rainy day; from within my own circle of friends –  the same group that I go to yoga class and drink margaritas with – there’s an odd mix of relationship situations.  As expected, some are married, others are divorced, one is heavily involved with some guy she works with, and Lisa doesn’t want to answer any questions.  Without going into the whole dynamics of what it’s like when a bunch of women get together, because it’s a mess of passive-aggressive cattiness and sincerity, my relationship, or better put my marriage, often comes up as an example of how true love can last.

But don’t let that fool you… we’re all mean girls in the end, and they hate me for it. 

Tho I suppose my own story is a bit unusual when you get right down to it; most people don’t meet when they’re in college, live their life like it’s a 24 hour a day cocktail party, get divorced, knock around for a few years going from an odd mix of one night stands to potential marriage proposals, and then decide that the devil you knew looks a whole lot better than that guy trying to give you his phone number while you’re waiting for your luggage at the airport – because you just spent the holidays with your ex-husband and he fucked you silly and now you’re wondering if this might actually work again.

Unusual?  Yes.  Reality?  Every word.

When I think about why I was never able to get over him; going down the list of important things of course includes what kind of man he is, what kind of father he is, his prowess in bed, my own needs and wants, and does he make me laugh.

And when you get right down to it… being with someone who makes you laugh, who really gets you and knows every little inch of what makes you tick, is everything.  Love is something which either grows or it doesn’t – and I think if I could point to anything as being the sun and the rain which makes love grow?  It would have to be laughter.

Yesterday while I was working on something in my office; a little break in between errands – I was sitting at my desk, looking at something online, and I was listening to some music.  Prince.  I love Prince.

The song ‘1999′ was on, and from out of nowhere my husband comes charging into my office and starts doing his best ‘Prince dance’ – not too bad for a white guy either!  So, he does that and makes me laugh – but when the song changed to ‘When Doves Cry’ things got interesting.  He got down on all fours and crawled across the floor towards me, with a come hither look in his eye, slinking around like a jungle cat – and as I watched him with that wifely ‘what the fuck are you doing?’ look in my eye :???: , he reached up and took my hand and licked it.

Gross?  Maybe.  Funny as hell?  Oh yes.  :lol:

This is why I married this man.  Because he’s too crazy to know just how ridiculous he looks trying to act like Prince, and he doesn’t give a shit either.

Enjoy your Stay Naked Sunday!