Another Attack of the Flapping Jaw

If someone ever wrote a book about my life, it might be titled Aletta - Normally Pretty Quiet, But When She Gets to Talking, You Won't Believe the Shit That Comes Out of Her Mouth. Seriously. I think it sounds about right.

Judge for yourself:

I was recounting an exchange between my mom and I, regarding a certain Cup of Blonde (why couldn't she be a Spoon of Blonde, then I could just call her SOB all day), to said Blondie about her girlfriend.

Already, the readers are groaning in their seats.... I know, I know. I should have seen the set-up, but the huge red flag... I thought it was just a piece of lint stuck to my eyelash.

I even prefaced this little story by telling CoB "Look, laugh at this even if you don't think it's funny so I won't know if you're mad at me."

WTF? Who says that?

Oh yeah....me.

So anyway. Here's the story. CoB has this great girlfriend who is Italian, and cooks Italian food, and she's funny as all get-out, and so yeah, I'm not the jealous type, but sometimes you wonder, you know, if maybe you're batting for the wrong team? So I was kind of moping one day when P was being a man and telling my mom about how CoB's Vic cooks! And helps her clean! And my mom makes this comment like, "Well, what are you going to do about it, go after her?"

And I thought it was hilarious, not only because CoB's Vic is so totally in love with her, but because I had been joking with another friend, we'll call her Teapot to protect the innocent, that I really wanted to get a girlfriend on the side for all the other stuff, you know? And we kind of decided that in my situation, it would probably be better to have a live-in girlfriend, and a man on the side, since men are only good for that one thing that a woman just can't do for you.

Of course, I didn't explain all this to CoB, because once the words left my mouth (see "...go after her." above. Doh!) I realized how bad it really could sound and made some lame follow-up about how I know Vic loves her and...

On a scale of one to ten, that was probably douche-y.

(God, most of you don't know just how clever I am)

And so yeah. I didn't really trip off the whole conversation, my brain didn't kick in just how lame it was to tell CoB that until she came to say 'bye' at the end of the day, and I was like, "Oh shit. She's going to tell Vic I said that. And the next time I see Vic....ah. How embarassing."

And the worst part of it, I think CoB was trying to make me feel better for being married to a stinky, sloppy man, because she told me that if Vic and her weren't together, Vic would go for a mixed girl, or a Latina. I think maybe she was trying to cover all the bases there, because most people aren't sure which I am.

So here's my disclaimer to the world: I'll be married for 5 years next month. Yes, P-Dely pisses me off, and he does smell sometimes, and while he does cook, it's often a different version of the same thing, but love is one of those fucking things that you just can't help. I can't imagine my life without him. I love him so much more than I ever planned to, and I'm happy and satisfied that every year we are together, our life together gets fuller, richer, more chock-full of amazing memories and more enjoyable.

But if I was Mormon, I'd totally have a chick on the side.