True Story

{February 12, 2010}   The Cat and The Goldfish

True Story:  Andy Andrews taught Pump and I that we are a cat and a goldfish.

Shout out to Andy Andrews! If you don’t know who he is, you should. Google him. 

See, people like to be loved in different ways.

I am a goldfish. You don’t have to pet me or love on me, or even spend a lot of time with me. Just feed me and clean my bowl. I show love with deeds and services and I feel love returned in the same way.

Pump, on the other hand, is a Cat. I don’t have to feed him or pay attention to him. I can leave him home alone for weeks with a big bowl of food and water and the toilet seat up. I just have to love on him and let him rub up against me WHENEVER he wants.

You can see how this has been a problem in the past. Apparently, I am cold as ice.

I once her a comedian put it like this, “I told you I loved you nine years ago. I’ll let you know if anything changes”. This is my attitude.

Pump is of the opposite school of thought. If I haven’t told him I love him in the last hour, he starts to question everything in our world.

Once the Vampire (more on her later) entered our marriage, we were forced to look at these differences in our needs very closely. We now, no pun intended, live in a fish bowl for all to examine our relationship, as most family and friends know about the Vampire.

Currently, I try to be more affectionate and cat like. Literally, I will pass by Pump while in my busy little world, stop and say to myself, “I should rub his arm for a minute or kiss his cheek”.

True Story:  Over-heard conversation last night with Pump on the phone with his Mom.

Pump:  Mom, I got to let you go…. Because… I have to clean the bathroom…. Because…. It’s how I show Ashley that I love her.

Me with a big grin:  Thanks Mr. Andrews. My bathroom was spotless this morning. My heart swells.


*Cat & Goldfish references are from The Noticer, by Andy Andrews

{February 9, 2010}   The Pre-nup

True Story:   Pump can get a wild hair sometimes and something totally ridiculous and insane will come out of his mouth. He will fight for that opinion anywhere from 2 hours – 2 days, and then out of the blue change his mind and apologize.

Example 1:  The all fruit diet

True Story:  Pump and I were living in Los Angeles at the time, broke as a joke and fighting constantly over stupid stuff.

We were headed to the movie theater one day. In LA this can take an entire day, the afternoon at a minimum. While stuck in traffic, where many arguments take place, Pump informs me that he is embarking on an “all fruit diet”. Seeing an opportunity to prove him wrong and myself right I say, “That is ridiculous. You have to eat a well balanced diet, just less of it”.

This “discussion” escalates to a fight. Now I don’t “support” him and his decisions. He is choosing a healthier lifestyle and I am not supportive. This goes on for 2 hours until we get to the snack bar of the movie theater. The young man behind the counter looks at us for our order.

Pump: Um, I’ll have nachos, a hot dog all the way, and a large cherry icy. Thanks.

Example 2:   The Pre-nup

True Story:  Pump is famous for ruining “family days”. He usually picks a fight with one of my family members or me.

We live at the beach so when friends and family come in town we usually visit a famous honky tonk or two. Hit the beach, etc… You get it. We have a good time.

One night my sisters, and some friends and Pump and I are at Lulu’s in Gulf Shores, listening to a good band and having a margarita. It’s about a year before Pump and I get married. We are already engaged.

Pump decides things are going to smoothly, and after sitting there thoughtful for awhile, announces to everyone that he wants me to sign a pre-nup.

True Backstory:  Pump has never had a $1 to his name. The joke in the family is that he made one figure this year, when we discuss salaries. I sold him my 1993 Toyota Corolla in college for $1,000. It took him 2 years to pay it off.

Back to Lulu’s:

Me:   Write it up buddy. Half of nothing’s nothing.

{February 6, 2010}   Blondie

True Story:  Pump dyed my hair one time… My mom paid him $50 never to do it again.

{February 4, 2010}   The Wedding Photographer

True Story:  Pump only put his 2 cents in twice about the wedding: the photos & wedding night lingerie.

So we drive 30 minutes to meet our photographer. Pump is a filmmaker and wouldn’t stand for a cheesy wedding video, only really fabulous, artsy, candid wedding shots. He tells the photographer as much.

Me: Listen, I had a nose job when I was 18 and my face can look funny in pictures sometimes. It’s hard to describe. Pump, you tell him.

Pump: Well, there’s a few problems really. She has a double chin, and can look shiny, and fat from one side… And there’s the nose…

Photographer: Speechless

{January 29, 2010}   The First Time

True Story: The first time Pump met me he says he knew he liked me. Not that he thought I was the one or that he would marry me, just that he knew he liked me. Why, you ask?

Pump:   Because you stood up in class (in college) and had big boobs and you were a wreck and you used big words, like knowledge.

True Story: The first time Pump asked me to “hang out” with him we were sitting on a bench in a campus building.

Pump: You want to go to the $2 movie tonight?

Me: Sure.

Pump: Can I borrow $2 dollars?

True Story:  The first time Pump and I went on a date and shared a meal together he looked at me across the table and said, “You know…  People die”…

True story: The first time my Mom & brother met Pump, he and I were living in Los Angeles. My brother came down from San Fransisco and my Mom came out from Alabama. (Thanks Goodness. I had exactly $1 dollar to my name when she stepped off the plane).

We went to Santa Monica Pier. My mom & brother had known Pump for about 2 hours. He had already yelled, “Hey Fuckers” to another road-rager in the car in front of my Southern Belle Mom. Walking down the pier, Pump farted out loud and blamed it on my brother.

We went to a restaurant for lunch. Pump leaves the table to go to the bathroom. I look at my family members with a “well, what do you think” look.

Mom:   Well, I think he’s kind of an innocent.

My brother and I:   No, he’s an idiot…

{January 28, 2010}   Pumpies is sick…

True Story: I used to be a hypochondriac, so they say. Mainly I think it was my anxiety and panic disorder. If I felt any strange pang in my body I was dying.

Now, older, I am resigned to my health and what ever happens to me. I don’t worry so much about illness & death anymore. I do aggressively try to stay alive though, and keep my child & husband alive.

I don’t think Pump is a hypochondriac, but like most typical men he is “dying” when he is sick and sees the inside of a doctor’s office once every five years.

The second to last time I got him to go to the doctor (5 years ago) the doc ran down the list of his problems, wrote some scrips, and he pretty much walked out of there and tore her list up. So, in reality, him going in for a check up is probably a waste of our co-pay. I spend the money I’m saving on his medical care on life insurance. Big policy.

Example: If he has a hang over, he asks me to take his temperature. It’s never just a cold or exhaustion. If he gets the sniffles, he’s terminal.

That being said, he has been complaining of being sick for the last couple of months. Mind you, he’s been working out, partying, working, but apparently, all the while knocking on death’s door.

I finally talk him into going to the doc. She diagnoses a sinus infection. WTF? I have had allergies & sinus infections my entire life. When I get sick it’s a sinus infection. So I am blown away by this diagnosis because he appears completely healthy. Where I duck tape a box of Kleenex to my arm when I have a sinus infection, he’s over here high-fiving people because he “really” is sick this time.

We go to pick up his scrips from the Pharmacy… The pharmacist throws 3 different medicines out there and said, “$85 dollars”. I looked at Pump and told him to pick one.

{January 28, 2010}   Free Bird

True Story: Pump is musically illiterate.

When I met him he was a 22-year-old kid in college with Brittney Spears posters all over his dorm room and only knew the words to Backstreet Boys songs. Yes, he claims to be straight, and for all intents and purposes, appears to be.

In the almost 9 years we have been together I have TRIED to get him to embrace the music world a little more. Don’t get me wrong he likes music, he just… Well, here’s an example: 

We are riding down the road and some really fabulous, famous song from the ’70s will come on and he’ll go, “Hey, I like this… Turn it up… Is this new?”

True Story: I love music. All of it.

I Don’t claim to be a music history major or trivia buff, but I can sing the words to just about anything you can play and can usually be a pretty good competitor of “name that tune” on a road trip.

So, Pump is describing Conan O’Brien’s last Tonight Show Episode to me. He’s like, “Did you see it? You’ve got to see it”. He’s a terrible story-teller. He tries to describe his dreams to me all the time. It’s awful. I pretend to listen for a little while as he describes incoherent dream details, until I can’t take it any longer and scream, “STOP.”

Having him re-tell a television episode can go in the same direction most of the time.

Anywho, He says, “So Will Ferrell comes out and he’s dressed like, you know, a guy from like one of those famous bands, and like it’s that band, you know, I think they sing a song about Alabama, yeah, Sweet Home Alabama….”

Me: Lynard Skynard….

Pump: Yeah, Yeah, Lynard Skynard. That’s the one. So he’s acting like he’s from Lynard Skynard and they start singing this song about going away, and I’m gone, and it was really funny….

Me:  Uh, Free Bird?

Pump: Yeah, yeah, that sounds right…

True Story:  Anyone have a record collection they want to donate to the cause?

{January 26, 2010}   Pumpies

True Story: My husband and I call each other “pump”, “pumpies”, “pumpers”, “Pumpy river love”, or some version there of. It started some 8 years ago when he used to tell me he loved me like rivers. And I was a sweet pumpkin, snackle toothed…  whatever. Am still not sure if it is a term of endearment. None the less it stayed.

From this post forward, husband will be known as “Pump”.

et cetera