I went to an all women's university in the south. More than half the women were from places that pronounced the word 'pillow' like 'pallow' while the other three women left on campus (I was one of the three) clung to our northern roots. Many of the women were from Texas and to my surprise actually wore T-shirts and sweatshirts that read their state slogan "Don't Mess With Texas!". Despite being from the tough streets of New York (ok-the tough streets of Long Island) even I found the ladies of Texas and their slogan slightly intimidating.
E decided to go this week on a little trip to Dallas. Having felt the winter blues as of late and needing some creative inspiration with his photography he chose a short trip to Texas. All week he has been humming the tune, “All my ex’s…live in Texas…” to which I’ve half jokingly responded, “Um…I certainly hope not.”
I can tell we are in a good place with one another. I know because I was genuinely excited for him to go on a little adventure but the new me was also able to express my, “you little dirt bag-wow it must be nice to go off on an artistic, self-exploration adventure while poor me stays here working like a slave” type feelings. I didn’t say such feelings out loud but instead I drew him a little cartoon drawing to which we both shared a good laugh. See my drawing here
Tonight I made plans to have ‘the girls’ over for Wine & Whining. W&W’ing was started a year or so ago in direct competition to the boyfriends who had their own monthly get together called, ‘Scotch & Farting’. When Scotch & Farting first started I was a little intimidated. What the hell were they all talking about with us not around? When E would come home I’d ask, “What did you tell them? Do they know about my you know what?” Who knew that in the end they were really only drinking...and farting.
I'm proud to which great heights we have taken Wine & Whining. Not only do we really get shit out on the table regarding work, sex, boyfriends, money, family, etc. but we really seem to be quite productive in helping one another with whatever is bothering us. I think we have even succeeded in freaking the guys out. I know because the last time I got home E asked me slightly paranoid, “What did you women talk about? Me? Us? Huh? Huh? Tell me. Tell me!!!” My lips were sealed.
Here is our convo before E left for the airport at 4:30am:
Me: Have fun on your trip honey.
Him: Thanks I will!
Me: What airline are you flying again?
Him: Oh no-thanks. I should be fine with two T-shirts and some underwear.
Me: Um…glad to hear it but I actually asked what airline you are flying?
Him: Oh. Oops. United.
Me: United. Well great.