Why there is at least one person happy I am not a ninja, yet.

Mr. Ninja is an amazing man.

The key word to that sentence really being man. This of course means through complete fault of his own, but very often without any intention at all, he says or does things which if I were already a Ninja probably would have been met with great pains of unimaginable kind. But because I am not a ninja (yet) I find other ways to seek revenge, ways which I accredit to being a woman, and a passive aggressive expert.

I have fine tuned my skills to be the envy of all slightly annoyed women everywhere. Focusing and training in the art of "YoucantproveIdidthatonpurpose doe".

Examples include: Stealing the good pillows, hiding his toothbrush, shaving my legs with the razor he uses on his face, drinking the last of the diet coke before leaving the house, hiding the toilet paper supply when I go to work, losing the batteries to various remotes and controllers in the house, losing the remotes and controllers themselves, and I'm not ashamed to admit that sometimes- I kick him. (When I'm really mad I even wait till he's awake to do it.)

What you ask would make someone do these things?


The Reasons I want to stab love Mr. Ninja


1. While walking through the mall Mr. Ninja lovingly and encouragingly informs me that should I lose a little more weight I may soon be able to start buying clothes at Lane Bryant.

(For those of you who don't know that is a plus sized woman's store- of which I have NEVER been big enough to shop at. Mr. Ninja swears he has no idea, but sometimes I wonder if he's getting back at me for pointing out that he must have recently improved his diet and calcium intake- judging by the impressively thick and fast growing hair springing up in his ears..)

2. In noticing and commenting on other women in my presence I am extremely lucky to have such a considerate man. Mr. Ninja has only two situations with women in which he finds it necessary, or perhaps helpful- to share his opinion of other women with me. I suspect it is because he is afraid that without his verablization I may otherwise not notice the following:

A. Her boobs are bigger than yours.
B. Her butt is smaller than yours.

(Please note these are not interchangeable. He will forgo all commentary if the above mentioned are opposite and I have the bigger breasts, or the smaller butt. He also pays absolutely zero attention whatsoever to women who are my equal to my size in either area.)


3. Mr. Ninja gives me credit where none is due. He thinks I can do the impossible, and will defy common sense and geography to try to atribute powerful things to me. For instance- no matter where we are, what we are doing or who else is around- if there is a foul odor Mr. Ninja immediately turns to me and says "Did you do that?" or "Is that you?".

(This has happened outside of chicken farms, next to homeless people, while changing poopy baby diapers, every single time we drive over road kill, if there is a skunk within a 20 mile radius, and my favorite- when we both know full well it was HIM- he will still make a point of asking me out loud (Especially if there are others around) if it was me.

**You would think I was exaggerating here, so I find it necessary to tell you that once after doing a quick enter/exit of the mens room Walmart in which there was some sort of bad odor, Mr Ninja scrunches up his face in disgust, nearly pukes in his mouth, walks the 30 or so feet to where I am standing near a check out- and asks if it was me.....)

4. Mr. Ninja wants to make sure I sleep comfortably. I am reminded of this every night when I climb into bed, close my eyes, and almost fall asleep. This is when Mr. Ninja decides it's time to make sure I can sleep comfortably. (Time is irrelevant, I've tested it- 8, 9, 10 at night- 3 in the morning, it doesn't matter.) He does this by turning on the light, telling me I have to get up out of the bed immediately, throwing all of the blankets and pillows on to the floor and 'fixing the sheet'.

(Please note that 'fixing the sheet' ONLY works if your wife/girlfriend is physically in the bed, eyes closed, almost asleep. So like Mr. Ninja you must ignore ALL requests to 'fix the sheet' before she gets into the bed. Please give her a chance to settle comfortably in the bed and just begin to relax before begining the process or your success is not guranteed. Also note that it is extremely important that you do this on days which she has been especially busy, tired, sick, or stressed.)

5. Mr. Ninja believes that love makes anything better.

Some examples include;

a. Telling me while in the shower together, in a sexually tense set of moments, that he could never shave my thighs because they are kind of lumpy.
but don't worry, he still loves me.

b. Pointing out that the single life was amazing and how much he missed it...
but but but he loves me. (<--- the but but but came I assume when he realized who he was talking to and what he had actually just said)

e. Casually mentioning that had he not been such a douchebag he'd have married his ex-girlfriend and be living a completely differently life, assumingly better...
.. but I should be glad he didn't, cause he loves me.


6. Mr. Ninja never forgets the little things. He may forget every big holiday that comes around, including anniversaries, birthdays, Valentines, and Christmas- but he never ever forgets the little things. Examples?

a. That I have exactly 3 moles that 'wiggle' and are almost reason enough for him to have me put down in 23 states, and the exact location of each, capable of dodging them at light speed.

b. That I casually mentioned that I would massage his feet 3 months ago on a Tuesday but he decided to go out with his friends instead, so I still owe him.

c. Any item during the previous year to which I said "You can buy that when we get the tax return".

d. How long it has been since I made him his favorite meal and the reason he hasn't liked every meal before, or after that one.

e. The names of girls he slept with before me. (He cannot compile a list of said girls because there are too many to name and number, however he can- after meeting a girl and hearing her name- quickly, and without any solicication on my part, tell me if he slept with a girl by that name, how hot/bad/good she was. He then follows up with a polite 'moment of silence' for said girl in which I can only imagine he is paying respect and remembering the action as he gazes with nastolgic towards the unknown.)


It is because of these things, and so so many more that I remind myself daily how lucky I am to not have been driven buckfuck nuts in a crazy house by this man to have him, and am not sure what I would do with the extra money I would save on medicationwithout him.

Now if you'll excuse me I think I'm sitting on his sunglasses, again.

The day I got my ass kicked by a shrimp, literally.

I went to dinner last night with my family at Olive Garden and enjoyed what I thought was an amazing meal, that is until about 20 minutes after finishing it. Even then it took me a few minutes to realize that I was actually going to die from food poisoning, knowledge which hit me as I laid on the bathroom floor of my favorite Old Navy.

Days- maybe months later a worker came in because they were closing, and presumably she wanted to go home. Unfortunate for her I couldnt be bothered with things like pride, or grace, or even common politeness. I simply muttered something about hell, sabotage, and revenge and rolled over. She left. It was probably a very smart thing to do.

As miserable as I was, I was actually learning a very valuable lesson. Much like Superman and his kryptonite, I too have a weakness which can, even in the tiniest of doses, destroy me. Sure, his comes in the form of an element from another planet and mine is the much less mysterious and probably more common type otherwise refered to as; bad seafood, but it's same same same. Just one more bit of proof that Superman and I are indeed peas in a pod.

Soon after leaving Old Navy, (Not by choice) and the luxuries of it's restrooms, I yelled for Mr. Ninja to pull over at the mall, I was in desperate need of a facility, or a loaded gun, and the mall promised to produce one, or both.

An hour later I was once again becoming familiar with the cold tile of a retail store, this time with a little mix-it-up of in the form of a 4 year old giving play by plays on my cell phone (Which she stole and was taking great joy in holding just out of my reach) to whomever it was she called from my address book. "Oh, she can't talk, she's throwing up. No, I can't bring her the phone she's laying down on the floor. No, she says she's not okay, she's dying and hates us all, but especially you."

It all gets hazy from there but I must have gotten a stomach transplant because this morning seems somewhat better. At least to say I'm no longer begging someone to hit me with a bus or cursing my mother for giving birth to me, and I have managed to avoid coming into inappropriate contact with a retail establishment's bathroom floor for at least the last 8 hours.

However..

I may need some sort of twitter intervention because while laying there, with life flashing before my eyes, trying to get all of my estate and final arrangements planned in my head- I actually took the time to #followfriday someone early, just in case I didn't make it.

I'm the same in any language...

For those of you who don't know- I am studying Arabic. It's a surprise for Mr. Ninja. On my list of things he would probably prefer that I do (Right under: Stop storing extra fat like we are bears about to face an ice age, and right above: Stop punching him in his sleep <--- this one is a secret!) is become more 'worldly'.

The world however turns out to be a very large place full of people who don't speak English and aren't nearly as interested in my becoming worldly as I am. The internet on the other hand is full of people who are not above amusing themselves at my expense and can quite easily be talked into all sorts of messes. The most important of these turns out to be teaching Arabic over the computer to someone like me. Someone who apparently thinks shock is comical and prefers her jokes dryer than the hole they test tampons in.. (Note: I was just assuming they test them, it's not as if I've ever had a part time job doing this, or got paid to be a part of some clinical trial, they probably use crash test dummys or something... Note to self: Research this, immediately.)

Anyway, today my tutor (Who is Arabic, obviously) let me pick my own phrases to get the proper pronunciation of this week after having learned all the obligatory "I don't speak your language but I'm going to pretend I do" phrases, and while running off a long list that I had been struggling with, I threw in "Everybody listen up, I've got a bomb!!!!"...


Haha.

Best awkward silence ever.