Near Future Husbands

It's amazing what can happen in a year and a half, since we started this blog.

What started out as a half-serious joke has become a great source of discussion and encouragement!

Dear Future Husbands,

Through this blog we've come to really examine our ideas about our relationships with you: assumptions we've made that we've learned to let go of, and character qualities we've learned are essential.

Future Husbands, we love you, and we're looking forward to spending the rest of our days with you!

On behalf of Brittany, Lindsay, and Marlys:

Thanks for the bling :)

Women, Keep Your Virtue

Disclaimer: For entertainment purposes only!

Grazie!

This post is not addressed to any future husband who may or may not ever come calling, but to the wonderful person/people who gave me the amazing surprise yesterday afternoon of leaving my favorite ice cream on my doorstep.

The day started out horridly for me due to reasons I won’t get into on here, but in the midst of the whirlwind, I received a mysterious phone call from a woman saying she was an “elf” and that I should check outside my front door. Before I could ask who it was, she hung up. Sure enough, outside the front door of Andalasia was a plastic bag containing “Joe’s Italian Bliss”, a heavenly hazelnut ice cream that has since been christened as “Giuseppe” (Giuseppe being the Italian rendering of “Joseph”) and jokingly referred to as my “husband” on this blog. Attached to the top of the ice cream carton was a white post-it-note with the following message:

“Dear G-pers,

God loves you. Phil. 4:19

~ Your blog fan club”

Awww!! How cool is that?!

After quite a bit of detective work, I was able to put some of the puzzle pieces together, but there are still some holes to be filled in. One thing I figured out, however, was that whoever sent me the ice cream a) reads this blog/has read my post on Giuseppe ice cream and b) is friends with me on Facebook as they saw that I was having a bad day via my status, and then sent the ice cream my way.

So, whoever you are, thank you, grazie, spaciba. I hope your identity doesn't always remain mysterious though because you deserve a proper “thank you” in-person. As life would have it, the thing I was mentally spazzing about yesterday turned out to be absolutely nothing, but I still deeply appreciated the ice cream (as did the other Andalasia ladies). Anything with chocolate and hazelnut cures a multitude of ills, even if they turn out to be unfounded, pseudo ills by the end of the day. Your kind and thoughtful gesture definitely did not go unnoticed.

A recent midnight encounter.

After my roommates and I found some of these on our deck, we decided to do some research to see how we could make them live. Turns out we probably won't do anything and be masochistic fish killers. Mind you - we found these fish at midnight on our deck encased in a tall large clear tube about 5 inches in width. This large tube was a giant light that shot up spinning bubbles from the bottom. So basically we had a really awesome light with a lot of dizzy smoothie drunk fish.

What kind of fish you ask? Feeder Guppies. And this is what we learned:

"The males are absolutely horrible fish. They will chase around the females 24 hours a day. They will move from female to female and chase them around. The females will swim around in circles trying to get rid of the males. Fancy guppies do not do this as much as feeder guppies. The male feeder guppies are absolutely obsessed with the female guppies. They will even stress them out until they become weak and die from an illness. The males are also very fast and they will steal all the food as well."

The response of an unnamed roommate: "Why am I not suprised?"
I believe at that point we all said, amen.

To all of you good intentioned men, who only mean well, I'm sorry that all the cruel unthoughtful boys have cast such a horrible light on your gender. We do realize there ARE men out there who are NOT feeder guppies.

On Kissing...

"Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves."
- Albert Einstein

None of this quick peck nonsense. Please don't kiss me unless you mean it.*

And I really, REALLY hope you mean it every morning before you leave for work, every evening when you come home, and every night before drifting off to sleep.

...And any other times you feel like it in between. :)

* For this reason, i will be wary of kissing you until I know for certain you're going to stick around for the long haul -- until we're engaged, at least. Please don't take offense, and please respect me by not pushing the issue - it's for my own emotional health. Besides... we will have all the time in the world to work on that later. ;) And you, my husband, can feel proud and rest easy, knowing that my lips have never touched another man.

Giuseppe

Giuseppe,

I met you, as so many people meet their husbands, through a friend. In fact, it was in the very cliché location of a grocery store. It’s not all bad. I’m an old-fashioned kinda gal. The moment I saw you, I gasped, my heart fluttered...I just knew it was love at first sight.

I never thought I’d meet a man like you in America. I’ve caught glimpses of you in my wanderlust European travels...Belarus, Ukraine, Russia...even in exotic Turkey which I later found out was your country of origin.

Where have you been all my life, Giuseppe? (I should add here that “Giuseppe” is Italian for “Joseph”.) You are pure, Italian bliss. It said so right on your carton.

Yep. Carton.

Ok, time for a confession. Giuseppe, my husband, is really Stoneridge Creamery’s “Joe’s Italian Bliss”. It’s “hazelnut-flavored ice cream with ribbons of hazelnut fudge and chocolatey chips”. It was love at first bite. I almost spewed expletives because it was so amazing. I’ve never had an ice cream encounter like that. Being the lady that I am though, I settled for huddling on the ground in the kitchen and giggling like a school girl. Just ask my housemates.

Sadly, it looks like the girls loved Giuseppe, too. Twenty-four hours later and he’s been devoured in love. Don’t worry honey, I’ll come for you later. We’ll have a romantic rendezvous at Cub sometime soon before the weather turns too cold. Then we’ll just hafta settle for a long-distance relationship until next summer. In the meantime, I’ll take up therapy and maybe knitting.

So, dear future husband. There seems to be a nasty love triangle. You may have to arm wrestle Giuseppe to win my affections, but he can’t even last 24 hours in a house of lovely women. He’s a pushover. Only real men need apply.

~G

Footnotes:

1. Hazelnut-flavored things are much more popular in Europe than here.
2. Turkey is the largest producer of hazelnuts.
3. Giuseppe is pronounced “Joo-SEPPY”. You’re welcome.