Why can't guys have showers with their friends?

My wife went to a wedding shower tonight. Fascinating events the showers. Little to no water involved, no one gets married, you just "shower" someone with gifts. And play cute games that make each other blush. And have a lot of good food. It's like a "pampered chef" party that you've already pre-ordered for.

At least that is what I'm TOLD what happens. It gets me wondering why guys are so much farther behind on this. Do we like to party less? No. But when we get together it tends to include a magic mix of:

Unhealthy food/drink.
Violence.
Pretending we were somewhere else.

The gifts we give aren't helpful, they are traps or mean jokes. Some idiot thinks it funny to miswire an electric shaver. We do something awful to the food and make the prospective groom eat it. Someone vomits. The police show up, only to find the groom tied to a pig wearing a tiara and smoking a joint (the pig, not the groom).

We only do this once though. We go all out with our parties so we can only have one without raising the suspicions of the neighbours. In a way I'm glad, I would never want my friends buying me "unmentionables".

Women, I salute you. You can embarrass each other in ways that let you disclose what you did to each other without having to plead the fifth amendment. You can have more than one party, tripling the gift count in your favour. You can have parties that don't require the use of emergency equipment or services.

That is why after nine years of marriage we are replacing our dishes, towels, and cookware while I still am saving up for a new electric shaver.

Friends don't let friends wear dresses without sleeves.

On Friday my wife and I were part of a "murder mystery" at a friend's birthday house. For those who have never had the pleasure, it's LARP'ing without the swords. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LARP) All the geekiness, none of the potential for bent glasses frames.

Being a guy's birthday, he invited his buddies out. This was interesting as half of the roles were for women.

This is where I learned something weird. It's alright for a man to go around without his shirt on, or in a tank top in the summer. But put him in a sleeveless dress and there is something reactionary to armpit hair.

These events are fun because it degrades (quickly) into accusations of each other's characters. Depending on the crowd (and amount of bubbly there) this can get way past the PG rating. And the best part is that usually the most reserved, modest amongst you will have the most scathing, off colour insult.

If you ever want to get to know your best friends way better, have them over for drinks, have them dress in costumes (and cross dress if needed), and spend the night accusing each other of killing someone and having loose morals. It's more fun than it sounds. Or you COULD just watch the hockey game.

What's your "best-kept secret" ;)

On occasion I find myself reading the headlines and subtexts of magazine covers. Most times they are disgusting from their overt gossip or obsessive stories. I normally quit after 4 pages (double side) or when the cashier asks if I want to pay $7 for the filth.

What amazes me is how often the "best-kept secrets" are let out to national publications. Now pardon me for being literal, but aren't the "best-kept beauty secrets of Cleopatra" still in fact, secret? Wouldn't a better, albeit less catchy, title be "better-kept secrets than the last batch"?

This rant was inspired by a magazine that arrived at our house. It is apparently postured for Women. I know this because it has over sized text in hot pink and white with the catch phrases and words: "Fresh", "Sexy", "Makeup" "His bad habits" and "Perfect pedi pointers"

I say apparently because it's hard to say who the ads (and some articles) are meant for. Most ads are discreet, but noticeable with women having nothing covering their shoulders and a look that says I'm made of chocolate éclairs or else Fabio is standing right behind me. I would expect that to be better aimed at say, men. This is funny because the ads in Sports Illustrated (normal editions) are mostly for BIG TRUCKS!

Gee, it's like some of these publishers and advertisers are run by groups of cigar smoking fat men in pinstripe suits saying: "You know what make women buy makeup? Other women with makeup on and nothing else. Works for me. That and big trucks. Now pass the Powerpuff Pink Mascara, mine's running."

If I ever start a magazine, I'll be truthful. Judging from what I've gleaned so far, I think I can encapsulate their messages in this title: "You're not good enough as you are" tm

Catchy, eh?

Gotta go, my wife just found my Sea Salt & Lime Nachos...

How do you raise your father

I have read that taking care of your parents in their advancing years is like having them as children. If that is the case I am frightened by foreshadowing.

Natalie, my 4 year old wonder, is a stunningly sensitive child. Her little heart bleeds for others, unless they have the "Lego" piece she wants or are on the computer when she could be using it for "Webkinz". She is so sensitive even her skin has reactions.

I'm used to rubbing things all over little squirming bodies. I've been doing that for 7 years now. For those without kids: Applying any topical ointment to a child is like oil wrestling an octopus on anabolic steroids. And imagine having to clean up the ink.

Early in parenting we had a "change table". This was in fact effectively a padded bookshelf for $70. We learned that this wasn't going to work because it wouldn't fit in our room, we didn't want to hike upstairs to change the kid and then down with the present to dispose of it, so we sold it for $10 (or gave it away) and put a change pad on our bed.

There are 2 flaws in this design. One is back pain. Gently lowering a hyperactive 20 pound weight to mid thigh height is not good for your back. Kneeling only puts your face in the line of fire. The other is that I like to sleep in my bed, and knowing that the top layer is smeared in child slime is unsettling. Smelling barrier cream messes up the dreams.

So now my darling Nat walks into the kitchen as I'm trying to clean up from supper. She's in her pj's, and says "I'm itchy", and then vigorously scratches the offending area. This would be fine if it weren't her crotch.

Now this is what I expect to deal with in many years with my Dad.

Seeing my face take the grimace of suppressed laughter, her little eyes twinkled, and she assumed an expression reserved for Calculus exams and telekinesis. This broke me, which now has reinforced her little brain that scratching crotch + funny face = people laughing.

Tucking her in tonight (after a wrestling match with barrier cream) she informed me that tomorrow is show and tell.

At least he's a nice boy...

Stupid: 1 a: slow of mind : obtuse b: given to unintelligent decisions or acts : acting in an unintelligent or careless manner c: lacking intelligence or reason : brutish
source: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/stupid

Yep. We're all stupid. This isn't projection, it's careful observation. It comes from cognitive dissonance, which is to continue believing a lie when the truth has been made clear or is obvious. This can be funny:

"Oh look, the kid's are trying to dress the cat up as Superman and trying to make her fly."

"Ha ha, he actually believed he could play football with teenagers even though he's 40. Look at him cry and hold his back!"

"Windows Vista is still good."

"I can't believe he thinks she'll go out with him, she's so out of his league he's making a public fool of himself. What is Ken thinking?"

"Is Aunt Mabel wearing her daughter's tube top outdoors in daylight?"

It's most obvious with our bodies. We can all agree some things are good for us: Good food in appropriate portions, enough sleep, exercise fit to our body type, moderation of unhealthy habits, keeping our priorities to avoid stress. And yet I don't know anyone who doesn't break at least one of those rules. Daily. In fact, the "smarter" people are, the more they break. Hmmmm.

I stumbled on this when I lost a few pounds in short order. My secret: Healthy, moderate portions and exercise. Duh.

Then I've had a big improvement on my parenting, attitude, and how I feel. My secret: Time spent with God at night. Duh.

So these little things that I tell my children to do I can't manage myself. It's like I believe my higher thinking and capabilities (stop sniggering) allow me an out. What's you're excuse?

Why I've missed a week

I try to blog every other day. A nice waste of 15 minutes of my day. I won't try to make up for the hour I've missed this past week. I have 2 very good reasons for that:

The first was I had my older sister and her family visiting. This was great, short enough that we didn't fight, which I'm sure we could pick up on after (augh!) 15 years living in different municipalities. Her daughters/my neices are precious and precocious. I had great talks (and drinks) with my near genius older brother in law. So yeah, no time for blogging then.

The second is I'm sick. Too healthy to miss work, sick enough to feel miserable. Borderline fever, my shoulders feel like they've been caned, my head hurts, my throat is raw, and my sinuses are clogged. But that isn't bad compared to the fact I can smell my own snot.

That isn't as cool or appealing as it sounds. The effervescence of mucus, embedded in my olfactory sense like a frikkin organic glade plugin, is awful. My only escape is very hot food. The kind that calls for a chaser of chloroform. The requirement is the liquefying of everything in my eyes, ears, nose and mouth. A fine dinner of cayenne, garnished with a box of kleenex. Mmmmm.

By the way, I'm not feeling any better. I just wanted to make you suffer through those descriptions.

Goodbye's aren't easy.

Our culture has some odd nuances. One is the telephone goodbye.

Now how many times do you say goodbye on a phone? As a computer geek I would expect the linear answer, once.

This isn't the case in real life:

1-> Alright.

2-> Ok.

3-> Sure.

4-> Thanks.

5-> No problem.

6-> See ya.

7-> For sure.

8-> Bye.

9-> Bye.

[end]

This is hilarious to listen to. We actually have cultural expectations not to end a phone call quickly, lest we sound rude. If we're in a rush, we start off the phone call with the goodbye. Have you ever started a call with "I have to go quickly but..."?

The friend of mine who pointed this out had a solution: "I'm hanging up now." The first time I heard this I thought "You a[click]". But I was left feeling free, ending a phone call a full 30 seconds quicker than I ever had before. I called him right back to thank him.

So try to keep track of how many times you say goodbye on your next phone call. I bet it's more than 3.