Men Are Assholes

Since nobody reads this blog anyway, I decided today to use it to vent my frustrations. Who knows? Maybe someday it'll be amusing to look back on from prison after I've been convicted of murder. J/K

Mr. Chandler spent the entire day watching episode after episode of "Band of Brothers." Now, I'm not picky; I can handle a few hours of mindnumbing, uninteresting television shows. I'm open to the fact we are two different people with two diverse sets of interests. But after the sixth hour, you'd think he would consider my feelings and change the station. Oh wait, he did. He put on the Saints football game.

But let me watch one freaking episode of "Millionaire Matchmaker," and he stomps up the steps with "I'm taking a nap." Then he pouts the rest of the day, and makes snarky remarks about it for weeks afterward.

Then there's Christmas Day, a day when it's traditional to eat all kinds of goodies. I baked all day Christmas Eve, and laid out ham slices and rolls, etc., to snack on throughout the festivities. He has the nerve to say to me "I wish you'd lose some weight." Yeah? I wish you'd think about what the hell you say to me, when you say it, and how you say it. Could you pick a worse day? Maybe my birthday?

On another, similar "men are insensitive assholes" note: My brother, who lives across the United States about as far as you can get from here, called me this evening. During our conversation, in which I told him about a long drive I made yesterday including passing the former site of a landmark we had both admired as children -- I tell him it's no longer there, and he immediately corrects me, saying "Oh yes, it is. I saw it a couple of years ago when I was in town. It's just different now." Right. God knows nothing could change in two years, bro. I mean, I *was* just there yesterday. But what the hell do I know? I'm only a lowly female.

If I Tweeted, I'd tweet #menareassholes.