I know I’m new to country music but dang those girls know how to belt out a song and put a man in his place! Ashton Shepard’s Look It Up, Miranda Lambert’s Gunpowder and Lead, and Carrie Underwood’s Before He Cheats.  I am so pissed right now I could write a country song!

Seriously! Men and women speak two completely different languages. I don’t understand why our parts are made to fit. What’s the point of joining together two human beings who think completely differently? Why did the caveman decide that to procreate, he had to have a lasting relationship with the cavemother of his babies? Why couldn’t the cave people come up with a better system? If I were a caveperson, this is what I would have proposed:

(Obviously this would have been in some grunty language but just go with it) “It appears that to continue populating the earth and growing our species, cavemen must insert their Poo-je into a cavewoman’s Vajooge. Now, it is clear that Cavemen and Cavewomen can only feel the sparks for 2 -4 months before we get too comfortable with each other and start pissing each other off, SO I propose that Cavemen and Cavewomen have sex to make babies and to satisfy urges. There is to be no conversation, no dinner, no cavewall art exhibits, just sex. Cavemen will live together separated into two groups; those who want to live like pigs and those who are neat fanatics. You will never get tired of telling your stupid hunting stories, and you can fish until midnight for all the Cavewomen care. The Cavewomen, will live together separated into two groups the touchy feelies and the uptighties. The touchy feelies will braid each others’ hair, tickle each others’ backs and not feel shy about snuggling with each other because it’s a non-sexual act. The uptighties will not touch in anyway, but will enjoy a good gossip conversation, decorate the cave, and find multiple uses for fire to be used for cooking.”

If only I were a Caveman, by now in 2011, we would have sex houses like gyms. One you work out in one you have sex in. Men and women would go to the sex houses when they needed sex and then return home to “their kind”. There would probably be no war or crime because there would be no miscommunication, everyone could get sex when they want it and there would be no stigma attached. No jealousy, no hurt feelings, NO CRAP!

I would probably be living with the Superfriends helping Psychic and Cowgirl raise their kids while DJ Superpilot plays songs that we all dance around to without judgement because we’re girls so we can just dance to have fun. Sommelier would be pouring the red wine while Healer ponders her life’s purpose because she’d have no one to heal since we’re all so well adjusted. And See-er would be giving us all art projects which we would love and never grow tired of.

Ah Utopia. But now back to reality. I’m pissed!!! I’m super pissed!!! I’m super freakin’ pissed!!! And the frickin’ ridonkulouness of it is that IC has NO CLUE WHY!!! Which he wouldn’t because he’s a guy! In his head, he’s missed me for the past two weeks, I stopped by last night because it was my first night home and I wanted to see him. I could tell he was tired, so I didn’t stay late. Tonight I went over again, he made me a steak dinner with a sweet potato because he knows I love that, he even put on the tribute to the women of country music and watched it for two hours and he doesn’t like country music, but knows I do.  By 11pm we were in his bedroom. And at approximately 11:35pm I was so seething mad, that I got up from his bed put on my shoes and my cowboy hat, picked up my bag and took out my car keys, to which he asked/said in complete confusion, “I take it you’re leaving?”

Damn straight I was leaving! You know what I expect when I return from being out of town for two weeks? I expect the guy in my life to take one look at me and push me up against the nearest car, wall, tree trunk.. whatever.. kiss me passionately for at least 4 minutes and then pull away only to stare at me for a moment and declare, “Girl, you’re even better looking than I remember!”

Now that’s a welcome home! But nooooooo IC is clearly comfortable with me, too comfortable if you ask me. It’s been what? Two months. Yesterday I get a peck on the lips and a tour of the house renovations. Tonight, you got the pre-bedroom details, but what I failed to mention was I asked him about 3 times if he was going to kiss me. I even sang him a country tune, “Are you gonna kiss me or not? Are we gonna do this or what? I think you know I like you a lot, but you’re bout to miss your shot, are you gonna kiss me or not?” To which he asked if I wanted to go into his room to see his cat…

His cat? Unless he suddenly got a giant white tiger that he’s about to do me on, there is nothing sexy about asking a hot chick back to your room by inviting her to see your cat! GEEEEZZZZ! When we finally made it back to his room (cat no where in sight, thank the lord) he just lay on his bed and waited… I mean! So fine, I got on top of him and started getting into kissing him and stuff… but he was acting like a freshman virgin on prom night who was just doing it because the guy was a senior and paid for the tickets.

If you’re tired- TELL ME! If you’re still in pain from your muscle pull- TELL ME! If you’re just not that into me- TELL ME but don’t do me any favors, buddy. I can pull out an image of an ex boytoy and have a better time by myself. I’ve already written the entry “for every hot girl there’s a guy who’s tired of having sex with her” and I’ll be out the door before I find myself in that situation again! I HATE BEING PISSED OFF ABOUT SEX!!! And to top it all off, now we have to ‘talk’ tomorrow, because he has no idea why I’m so pissed off and I haven’t the foggiest idea how to translate all of this into ‘Man Language’ Dang I want to write the F curse so badly!!!!

©2011