Jun 11, 2010

#31. We watch MTV once a year.

Stuff Married People Like: The 2010 MTV Movie Awards. Am I too old and too married to watch MTV? Probably. But if there’s a show with the word “movie” and “awards” in it—we’re watching. Of course, things can get a little wacky in MogLand on Red Carpet Days.

The movie-award madness began at 9p. But at 8:55p, John was hurrying to complete his “Art Achievement” certificates for the 5th Grade Assembly. In the rush to finish his homework, he forgot to turn off the sprinklers. Sadly, we were in mid-torrential downpour by the time the light went off in his Hollywood-obsessed brain. Making us the only married people in the history of married people who water their grass, in the rain.

That night, I heard more than a few F-bombs between 9p-11p. I haven’t been this shocked since Janet Jackson’s Super Bowl fiasco. Anyway, I’m pretty sure the censor dude was a little tipsy, because the bleep was falling a second behind. I watched, mouth agape as on-stage celebs spewed rapid-fire swears. I guess this should come as no surprise from the show with a category for “Best WTF Moment.”

Here are five words that I thought I’d never say, let alone put in writing, “I agree with Howard Stern.” I believe it was he who first enlightened me with the truth that swearing shows a lack of intelligence. But what the $*@# does that guy know anyway, right?

During the teen-targeted commercial breaks, my hubby sent me links to a few of my favorite movie clips. Meanwhile, I, of course, watched the commercials. Though I was half-tempted to hop online and join the Twittersphere, where Tweens (and I suspect a few Millennials as well as divorcés) were in a heated debate over the ageless pop culture question: Team Edward or Team Jacob?

Do married people watch MTV? Really, I’d like to know. Because we skip it 364 days out of the year. Yet I was tickled when the MTV Movie Awards brilliantly opened with Les Grosman aka Tom Cruise. I love this dance scene the way most guys love an action sequence. Check it out and a few other favs:

 



Sandra Bullock




 
Kevin James & Will Smith



 

Jun 11, 2010 9:39:34 PM | Movie Award Shows

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#30. Memorial Day Weekend 2010: (Thanks Grandpa!) I did yardwork yesterday. Okay, so I held a garbage bag open while John shoveled in heavy loads of mulch. That counts, right? Why are married people soooo obsessed with curb appeal anyway? Living in Suburbia has gone to Mog’s head and our bank account. If the grass looks greener on our side of the fence, that’s because it is. *** BEFORE *** Here’s what I want to do: Write to Home Depot and propose a rewards program, like earning points to spend elsewhere—a collaboration with Old Navy or Target perhaps? It’s the marital trifecta. Husbands get to buy their DIY-materials and wives reap the rewards of both a house-in-order and a shopping spree. See, win, win, win. What I like most about Memorial Day weekend (besides the extra day off) is the barbeque—the smell of propane + juicy meat filling the air. American flags waving from front porches. Yet, ‘twas the night before Memorial Day, and I had a wicked craving for fried rice. As soon as John Deere finished in the yard, we ventured to the Dragon Buffet. Not too sure how the veterans would have felt about that? But I was pumped. I even shaved my legs for the heartburn-inducing date night. Besides I hadn’t been out to dinner since before my last blog post. Yes, that long. Even though it’s been awhile since I posted any SMPL fodder, I’m proud to announce that in spite of my inconsistency, StuffMarriedPeopleLike.com has been ruling the blogosphere for an entire year. Who’s bringing the cake? In other anniversary news, next month marks five years of wedded bliss here in MogLand. I just Google’d and learned the traditional gift for half-decade is diamonds. Shocking, right? I can’t help but wonder what the next five years will bring. I know one thing: We ain’t moving. Here’s an idea I can’t wrap my brain around: My paternal grandparents lived in the same house for over 60 years. Just two months before my grandmother passed, I asked her one of life’s biggest questions: What’s the secret to marriage? Her wisdom-filled reply: The secret to marriage is putting up with the other person’s sh*t. Truer words were never spoken. This from a woman buried in a t-shirt that read: You think being a Marine is hard? Try being married to one. Now, if you substitute OCD for Marine, I totally relate. ***AFTER *** Why yes, these trees were planted six feet apart and exactly 28 inches from the fence. Happy Memorial Day! God Bless the USA, the soldiers and those who love them.
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#32. Who should kill the bugs? Whoever is closest. (Or bravest.) (Or least holiest.) Married people like outdoor living spaces: In my five years of marriage, I’ve learned a thing or two about my husband. Like the fact that leaving town for a few days means I’ll most likely come home to a surprise. Women love surprises. At the end of June, I flew to Florida for a business trip. When I returned to MogLand four days later, my hubby had purchased and assembled (so I couldn’t tell him return it) a screened-in gazebo. He turned our contractor-basic cement pad into a fake sunroom. And I loved him for it. Mog’s DIY-remodel provides the perfect canopy for reading in the rain. Or daydreaming in the shade. I imagine that many married couples use their outdoor living spaces for entertaining. Or creating the ultimate staycation spot. Unfortunately, our little backyard oasis has become a 10x10 flytrap. The other night we had company over (and by company I mean my brother), after witnessing Mog in attack-mode, my big bro bragged about the time he chopped a fly in mid-air using a pair of kitchen scissors. Why is it that death-defying flies turn grown men into Mr. Miyagi from the Karate Kid? Yesterday, Mog killed 10 flies in under 60 seconds. Yes, I counted. Yes, I felt slight remorse for God’s little annoying creatures peppered all over the ground. The booming fly population got so bad that Mog threatened to hang that dreadful yellow sticky tape. But I’d much rather watch him sin, swat and swear than have strips of fly-purgatory hanging overhead. Besides that stuff would clash with our faux-sunroom décor. I’ll admit it’s fun to be the armchair quarterback whenever Mog reaches for the fly swatter. While I pinpoint the intruders, the puppies cower from the incessant smacking, grunting and downright pleasure that Mog derives from his killing sprees. He shows no mercy for flying insects sans stingers. Yet the second a bee comes within earshot, he will not hesitate to use me as a human shield. The amazing thing about flies is that they dive bomb for the open door, cruising in on the flow of the escaped air conditioning. That’s why we’ve become accustomed to entering and exiting the gazebo as quickly as possible. Earlier today, I rushed outside, quickly closing the door behind me—per protocol. Only to look up and find a new uninvited gazebo guest. In that moment, I was struck with the fear of God. Or maybe it was just the fear of being stung. And suddenly the swatter no longer seemed like a worthy weapon of mass destruction.

LRM

Italian by heritage. Croatian by marriage. Writer by addiction.

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