Mike's underarms- no.2
Sunday, July 8, 2007
So, I have to be honest with the world. A secret that I never told anyone:
Before Mike and I moved to the east coast, I was very nervous. I was worried that Mike and I were "long distant lovers." Yes, of course, I realized that we were literally four hours away from one another, but I was nervous that the only reason our relationship worked so well was that we were long distance.
For those that know me, you know that I am not the easiest person to remain close friends with because/and I can, unfortunately, be very critical and inconsistent ( I am praying for a change). Simply meaning, it is hard for me to maintain relationships for a long time because if I get annoyed with someone way too often, many times, I am quick to release the friendship. I cannot be around the same person way too much or too long because I am very likely to get annoyed and need some serious "me time." The only people that have remained steady in my life are usually family (can't get rid of them and they can't get rid of me, and we've gotten used to one another' ways) or the friends that (also) need a lot of space but even can step on my toes and tell me that I am an awful person/friend.
So back on to the point, I got really nervous that Mike and I would soon fizzle after being together so often. The truth is, after going to college four hours away from one another and being in New York the previous summer, I was nervous that we would never get married. Not to mention, we were going to wait two years after our engagement to get married.
I mean don't get me wrong, I loved everything about Mike, and I prayed (since we started dating) that we would be together forever. There was always something special about him (I swear I dreamt of him years before we actually met), but I could not help but let my past history with relationships put a damper on my mood and outlook on our upcoming move.
However, I soon realized how wrong I was; I not only could stand being up under Mike every weekend (meaning hanging out...for all those perverts reading the blog)...I literally loved it. He is so patient with me (and my mouth), he is a strong Christian, he picks me up when I am down (literally he picks me up like a princess or throws me over his shoulder), he is understanding, funny, he is a go-getter, he is gorgeous/sexy, cleans up the kitchen after I make a mess when cooking...but most importantly his underarms smell terrific...
The funny thing is, when I was younger, I used to have conversations with my grandmother about her relationship with grandpa (because I didn't quite understand the concept of "old" passionate love), but anyways one day I asked her one of her favorite things about grandpa, and she said, "he always smells good...even his underarms." Many years later, when he died, my grandmother was talking about all the things that she would miss about her love of over 50 years, and she said, "I will miss the way his underarms smelled" (Ashley or A. Yancey is my witness to this). At the time, I just thought my grandmother had an underarm fetish, but after being with Mike (in the winter, summer, fall, and spring), I must say that his underarms stay consistent, and they always smell so good. The other day I was riding on the train with Mike, and I was not in the best mood (we can blame it on PMS). I began holding on to him because we were standing up on the train, his arms were stretched like an eagle, and all of a sudden, I got a good whiff of his underarms, and that's when I knew this relationship would last forever...
So that is my advice, ladies: "Don't choose the man who you can live with, choose the man whose underarms you can't live without."
I mean, who wants to be with a man whose underarms stink anyways?