Jill Asks Jack About PMS

Jill Asks: When will men finally acknowledge that PMS is real?!!

Jack Answers: This one's easy. I'll acknowledge that PMS is real as soon as you acknowledge that PNS is also real.

What's that? You've never heard of PNS? Well let me fill you in. PNS occurs only in males. It's caused by a change in hormones (i.e., testosterone) once a month. Symptoms of this serious syndrome include:

• A biological need to not wear anything other than sweat pants and cut-off t-shirts.


• A biological need to ask you if our butt looks big in said sweat pants and then sob uncontrollably when you ask a valid clarifying question like, "define big?"


• A biological need to not eat anything other than potato chips and chocolate chip cookie dough vegan ice cream.


• A biological need to then sob uncontrollably when you ask a valid clarifying question like, "does that carton say that a serving size is two quarts, or did you just come up with that on your own?"


• A biological need to spend all day Sunday watching SportsCenter and re-runs of Chevy Chase movies on TNT (i.e., the male equivalent of spending all day Sunday watching It's Me or the Dog and re-runs of Renee Zellweger movies on Oxygen).


• A biological need to then sob uncontrollably when you ask a valid clarifying question like, "How did Clark Griswold bank enough PTO to go on all of these vacations?" (i.e., the female equivalent of asking a valid clarifying question like, "Why does Bridget Jones own so many f'ing diaries?")


• Sudden and painful cramps; these cramps typically occur when men are asked questions like, "Are you ready to go to Bed Bath and Beyond?" (Note: these disabling cramps are similar to the sudden and painful cramps that women suffering from PMS often experience when they're asked questions like "Are you ready to go to bed?")

So...as soon as you and your fellow ladies recognize the seriousness of PNS, we men will also recognize the seriousness of PMS.

Jill's Follow-Up: First of all, I would not put it past you to ask a clarifying question like "define big". This is why I refrain from asking you such things. Secondly, this post explains a lot about all your sobbing I've been putting up with all these months. Maybe scientists need to find a cure for this horrible malady because it certainly is negatively affecting my life. And lastly, I feel an extra bad case of PMS coming on RIGHT NOW. What coincidental timing, huh?!

Staycation Report, Part II: ToxiCleanse!

For Staycation Report Part I, click here.

Jack is a pretty competitive person. And when I say that, I mean he is competitive about pretty much everything. For our second date, we played board games at his house, and he actually threatened to throw me out his 21st story window after I beat him. I think he was serious and maybe I should have run for my life at that point, but I didn't. So here we are: we compete over everything.

Jack and I both had full physicals a couple months back, and he even wanted to compete over that. "What was your cholesterol? I bet mine is lower"; "My potassium was SO good, the doctor was really impressed." Every single number he wanted to compare and compete. This is partially because Jack and I debate a lot over who has a healthier diet. I know that I'm the one with the healthier diet, but he can't accept that. Sure, his numbers were better than mine overall, but I chalk that up to genetics. Frankly, with my genetics it is amazing I'm not a raging alcoholic with diabetes and a weight problem, possibly also locked up in a mental institution. Oh, and I'd probably have a heart attack in that mental institution - because my genetics are THAT awesome. So the fact that my numbers are all within a healthy range is kind of amazing if you ask me.

Anyway, during our Staycation back in mid-December, Jack & I were each supposed to plan a day of activities. One of my chosen activities, because I am weird hippy and believe almost anything anyone tells me, was to go to this spa and get a ToxiCleanse. This means we went to this place and put our feet in buckets of water with some ion-cleansing-electro-magnetic-other-sciencey-words-that-confuse-people wristband thingy, and it purified our bodies over the course of a half hour (like magic!). The buckets of water turned murky with our toxins. Jack kept inspecting each bucket, proclaiming "your bucket is dirtier, you are so toxic!" and other comments like that. I insisted his was murkier, which he dismissed.

At the end, when the guy came to turn off our ToxiCleanse machines and dumped out the water, he said to Jack, "wow, yours is even dirtier than hers." I guess what I'm trying to say is I WON.

Jack's Two Cents: What the guy said was, "wow yours is even darker than hers." Darker, not dirtier. What Jill failed to mention was that each type of toxin had a different color (e.g., alcohol was black), so the fact that my water was darker does NOT mean that I'm more toxic. (It just means I drink more red wine, which is very good for your heart.) Jill's water included lighter but grosser and more dangerous toxins. Remember all of those white swirls that represented toxic flatulence (no, I'm not joking.) Didn't you also have flammable levels of yeast dripping out of your soles? I don't mean to be crude, but Jill's water was actually curdling!?!?! Hands down, I'm less toxic. So I win. End of story.

This just in: Jack makes things up. Love, Jill.

Five Things That Boil Jill's Blood

My sincerest apologies for the delay in posting this. Due to the extremely large number of things that boil my blood, it was something of a challenge to get it down to a mere 5. So, without further adieu:

1. Invasion of my personal space. Sometimes I wish I could wear a large hula hoop around my mid-section everywhere I go. Maybe it'd be electrified too, so that should anyone try to get that close to my person they'd get a little shock. You see, I can't stand it when people crowd me - it drives me insane. Literally, I think I lose a little bit of my already fragile and questionable sanity. Jack has learned this over the past several months when he's invited me to crowded standing-room-only concerts. Having to prevent your girlfriend from beating the crap out of strangers who come just a little too close has proven to be a little much for poor Jack. It's possible I won't get these kinds of invitations anymore.


2. Pretentiousness. Ooh, you're rich and buy fancy things and go to fancy places, OOOHHHH! Get over yourself, okay? My personal opinion is that people who are all about wearing $300 t-shirts, and going to bars where the drinks are $20 a pop, must have pretty empty lives. I mean, just because you have a successful career, savings in the bank, and a small island in the Caribbean and all I have is this blog, $42.38 and some pocket lint doesn't mean you're better than me. So there!


3. When people argue with me about what I eat. I'm vegan. You're not. Hooray for you, I don't care! It really is unbelievable how many people like to make fun of my food choices. The worst part is how unoriginal most of the comments are: "You like pigs? I like pigs too - I LIKE TO EAT THEM" or "Hey, Jill, don't you ever get sick of just eating lettuce and tofu?" At least people could be creative about it. Or shut up. That would be nice too.


4. Karaoke. I know this is a weird thing to get upset about, but for crying out loud, have you heard some of those people sing? Nobody good ever does karaoke, and on the rare occasions that someone actually is good, I can't help but think: "SHOW OFF". (I'm mean, aren't I?)
   
   
5. Being Hungry. Jack will probably write a post someday called "Jill, the Hungry Monster" because, well, I become something of a monster when I'm hungry. I can't help it. I just get angry when I'm hungry. I kind of understand why people in developing countries start wars. If I were hungry all the time, I'd be pirating stuff too. Guaranteed.

(To read Jack's list, go here.)

Jack Takes a Stand Against Mantyhose

Hi. Jack here. Remember that post I wrote about how comfortable I was with my masculinity? And how nothing I could wear or do would make me feel like less of a man?

Well, maybe I spoke to soon? Perhaps I’m not as progressive as I thought…because I just can't seem to get on board with mantyhose.

Fellas, am I being conservative or do mantyhose cross the line?

Ladies, what would your reaction be if your man started rockin’ some hosiery?

5 Things That Boil Jack's Blood

1. Idiot Drivers
I could write an entire post about what constitutes an idiot driver, but let me just leave you with a few of the more vexing examples: (1) anyone who pulls out of a driveway without looking to the left, nearly runs you off the road, then slams on their breaks and waves you by like they’ve decided to “let you in,” (2) anyone who is driving while texting, shaving, or eating yogurt, and (3) anyone who automatically comes to a complete stop when the light turns yellow, even though the nose of their car is already in the motherfudgin’ intersection.

2. Being Redundant
Last week, Jill and I were playing a board game and the answer was, “women’s lingerie.” Really? Women’s lingerie? Thanks for clarifying. If the answer had just been “lingerie,” I would have been up all night trying to decide if it was men’s lingerie or women’s lingerie. Other redundancies that drive me batty: ATM machine (ATM stands for Automated Teller Machine, so we don’t need the extra machine, Einstein); close proximity (proximity means “close to”), past history, end result, and new beginning.

3. Naked locker room activities
This one’s pretty self-explanatory. The only time you should be in your birthday suit is when you’re showering. Once you exit the shower and get back to your locker, wrap a towel around your waist, OK? And if you insist on staying in the nude, must you floss your teeth while sitting directly next to me? What’s wrong with that wide open spot three feet away from me, Mr. Too Cool for Clothes? Also, if you’re going to sit there and comb your back hair, can you please put on something other than just your bright yellow Crocs?

4. People who call you because they missed your call
While Caller-ID is a great invention, it has led to the extinction of the purposeless call. I used to enjoy calling friends for no reason in particular. If they didn’t answer, I didn’t leave a message (because ─ get this ─ I didn’t have a message). Now, my getaway is never that clean. My friends notice that they missed my call, reason that I was too ill to leave a message, and call me back to see how many days I’ve got left to live. The resulting conversations are always awkward.

Friend: So, I saw you called. What’s up?
Me: Nothing.
Friend: No, seriously. What’s up? Are you sick?
Me: No. Nothing’s up. I feel fine.
Friend: Why’d you call then?
Me: No real reason. Just wanted to say “hey.”
Friend: Do you need to borrow our cotton candy maker?
Me: What?
Friend: It’s no problem. Really. I’ll drop it off tomorrow after work.
Me: Fine. Drop off your cotton candy maker. That’s obviously why I called.

5. Text “lingo” in work e-mails
Last week, a Vice President asked me to resolve an issue regarding one of her employees. After taking care of the issue, I left her a voicemail summarizing how the situation had been handled. The next day she sent me the following e-mail: Thx 4 the vm! Umm…would it have been that hard to write, “Thanks for the voicemail!” Those extra twelve characters were just too daunting?!?! If anyone sends me an e-mail using text-lingo, I secretly hope they end up getting carpal tunnel. I mean…WTF?


Honorable mention blood-boilers: nose hair, work potlucks, ear hair, any product that is packaged in an unpenetratable plastic case that requires an axe to open (e.g., an electric toothbrush head), people who sit directly next to you in a wide-open movie theater, people who sit directly next to you in a wide-open movie theater and then proceed to chomp their popcorn like it’s made out of peanut brittle, “crunk” ringtones, people who pee in the urinal directly next to you when the urinal two spots away is open, any commercial for any spray-on deodorant, airplane food, and people who sit in their car for eight minutes when they know you’re waiting for their parking space.


Next week: 5 Things that Boil Jill’s Blood

Love in an Elevator

The other day, Jack and I are standing in his elevator, getting ready to leave his place. He was looking dapper, heading off to a football watching party. I was headed home to take a nap after a long night of drinking adult beverages. I turn to him and say "you look really cute today", to which he replies, "so do you."

A moment passes, and then he says, "actually, no, I take that back."

"Um...what?"

"I mean, you look fine, but you don't look really cute. I shouldn't give compliments if I don't really mean them. It's an impulse."

"Right. Insults are much nicer, honey! Thank you!" Then I proceeded to pout.

"No, I mean....it's only natural that when someone pays you a compliment, you want to say 'you too', but sometimes it's insincere. So anyway, you look alright, but I wouldn't say really cute. That's all I'm saying."

What can I say, he is a charmer - and he's all mine!