There are many wonderful looks Tyler gives me that I love, but this one is particularly heart warming.
Tyler's morning smile
I have always prided myself on being a night person. (Early bird gets the worm, my ass. Not if the late bird is still up at 5:00 a.m., I say.) That's why I was so happy to eventually learn that Tyler is a night person too. When our schedules allow, we're usually up until two or three a.m. Even on the days we're suppose to get up for a morning shift, we'll usually stay up later than we should. Currently, my schedule is freeing me of the night-morning-morning-night-night hell our corporation forces upon us. This has reset my sleeping habits to where I've been getting up around 10:00 or 11:00.
Unfortunately Tyler doesn't have this luxury. And adding a 40 minute commute doesn't help things. I try to let him sleep as long as possible while I'm up bumbling around with my beauty routines or writing on this blog. But when it is time for him to wake (or even if I'm just saying goodbye before one of my morning shifts), I love the way he looks at me. He gives me a beautiful smile as if I am exactly the thing he wants to see upon waking.
I know I am, but there's something very special about this honest reaction. Even though I've pulled him from sweet, heavenly sleep, he's still happy to see me. He smiles widely, showing all his teeth with his eyes barely open. It's goofy, but very sexy and it swells my heart because the love is pouring out even when he's not fully conscious. It is wonderful to cause Tyler so much joy at the beginning of his day.
Monday, February 29, 2016
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Reason I Love Tyler #86
No matter what we humans may tell ourselves, we are still animals at heart.
Tyler's natural scent drives me wild.
On one of mine and Tyler's first outings, I said something to the effect of "You know what's great about you? You don't smell like anything." Of course he did smell like something. Pheromones. I was picking up on them, ingesting them, accepting them. But what I meant by that comment was, "I like that you don't wear cologne."
Remember a few posts back when I said that I've always been turned off by men who do things to try to impress women? That goes for lots of things, but wearing cologne is probably at the top of the list. I detest cologne and body spray. This probably stems from the fact that I came of age when Axe began its quest for world domination by advertising that a flock of hot girls (no fatties, please) would fall to their knees if only you would douse yourself in $6 of Miracle Spray.
So I have an aversion to man made scents meant to ensnare women. And? Well, like I said, Tyler smells great on his own. But not only that, I love Tyler's natural scent. Tyler is not a stinky guy. He doesn't even wear deodorant because he doesn't need it. Showering does enough, but I get disappointed when he washes under his arms. Seriously. I will often lift his arms and take a deep whiff. There is definitely something in his odor that effects me. It gives me an immediate...well, high is the only word I can use to describe it. I instantly feel relaxed and aroused at once. Tyler's "stank" has the effect on me that Axe is supposed to have on women. I find that hilarious and awesome.
I think I'll go have a sniff right now...
Tyler's natural scent drives me wild.
On one of mine and Tyler's first outings, I said something to the effect of "You know what's great about you? You don't smell like anything." Of course he did smell like something. Pheromones. I was picking up on them, ingesting them, accepting them. But what I meant by that comment was, "I like that you don't wear cologne."
Remember a few posts back when I said that I've always been turned off by men who do things to try to impress women? That goes for lots of things, but wearing cologne is probably at the top of the list. I detest cologne and body spray. This probably stems from the fact that I came of age when Axe began its quest for world domination by advertising that a flock of hot girls (no fatties, please) would fall to their knees if only you would douse yourself in $6 of Miracle Spray.
So I have an aversion to man made scents meant to ensnare women. And? Well, like I said, Tyler smells great on his own. But not only that, I love Tyler's natural scent. Tyler is not a stinky guy. He doesn't even wear deodorant because he doesn't need it. Showering does enough, but I get disappointed when he washes under his arms. Seriously. I will often lift his arms and take a deep whiff. There is definitely something in his odor that effects me. It gives me an immediate...well, high is the only word I can use to describe it. I instantly feel relaxed and aroused at once. Tyler's "stank" has the effect on me that Axe is supposed to have on women. I find that hilarious and awesome.
I think I'll go have a sniff right now...
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Reason I Love Tyler #14
I'm not posting this one because Tyler is doing it for me or because I asked him to. He's doing it for himself, as he should be. I am writing about this one because I am proud of him.
Tyler is quitting smoking.
For my entire life, my dad has smoked and I have hated it. It's one of the reasons I spent so much time in my room with the door shut. Car trips were plagued with a smoke filled car every thirty minutes or so. As a politically correct 90s kid with a D.A.R.E. education I often nagged my dad to quit smoking. Lung cancer this, emphysema that. And what about how he was KILLING my mother and me with his second hand smoke? I think I even asked my mother once--bratty little shit that I was--how she could have married a smoker.
Well, a smoker is not just a smoker. A smoker is a person with a highly addictive disgusting bad habit. And who they are is more important than that bad habit. I knew that by the time I met Tyler. But I have to admit I was secretly disappointed when he drove me on our first date and I noticed his car smelled like cigarettes. Tyler did not, by the way. I would have never suspected.
Smoking is not and was not a deal breaker. I never liked it, but I was resigned to deal with it the rest of my life just like my mom because I love Tyler and want to be with him no matter what. I told him as much. Nagging didn't work with my dad, so I wasn't going subject Tyler to it either.
Then he decided all on his own to quit. I can't say what percentage my presence in his life had to do with it. I like to think he wants to extend his life so he can spend as much time with me as possible. This has always been my argument for his quitting. I want him to be healthy. I want him to live a long life with me. Fine. I'm selfish. But also think of how much better he feels! And how much money he's saving!
Quitting a score long addiction is no easy feat so Tyler uses this handy dandy electronic smoking device we have named Charlene because it's easier than saying handy dandy electronic smoking device. And then there's this:
Homer: Now c'mon! Give your putter a name.
Bart: What?
Homer: C'mon, give it a name.
Bart: Mister Putter.
Homer: D'oh... You wanna try a little harder son? C'mon give it a girl's name.
Bart: Mom.
Homer: Your putter's name is Charlene!
Bart: Why?
Homer: It just is, that's why!
Tyler has done marvelously and I am so, so proud of him. I don't expect perfection because I have my own costly, unhealthy addiction (SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR) and I understand. I appreciate when he confesses his slip ups, too. The fact that he's even trying speaks volumes to me. I will continue to encourage him ever after and be grateful for every day that he improves his health.
Side story:
Tyler attended my aunt's wedding with me back in October. When he was outside smoking with the others who weren't allowed to do it inside, my mother said to me, "I didn't realize he smoked."
"Yes, Mom. I know."
"For all the years you complained about your dad..."
"Yes, Mom. I know."
Tyler is quitting smoking.
For my entire life, my dad has smoked and I have hated it. It's one of the reasons I spent so much time in my room with the door shut. Car trips were plagued with a smoke filled car every thirty minutes or so. As a politically correct 90s kid with a D.A.R.E. education I often nagged my dad to quit smoking. Lung cancer this, emphysema that. And what about how he was KILLING my mother and me with his second hand smoke? I think I even asked my mother once--bratty little shit that I was--how she could have married a smoker.
Well, a smoker is not just a smoker. A smoker is a person with a highly addictive disgusting bad habit. And who they are is more important than that bad habit. I knew that by the time I met Tyler. But I have to admit I was secretly disappointed when he drove me on our first date and I noticed his car smelled like cigarettes. Tyler did not, by the way. I would have never suspected.
Smoking is not and was not a deal breaker. I never liked it, but I was resigned to deal with it the rest of my life just like my mom because I love Tyler and want to be with him no matter what. I told him as much. Nagging didn't work with my dad, so I wasn't going subject Tyler to it either.
Then he decided all on his own to quit. I can't say what percentage my presence in his life had to do with it. I like to think he wants to extend his life so he can spend as much time with me as possible. This has always been my argument for his quitting. I want him to be healthy. I want him to live a long life with me. Fine. I'm selfish. But also think of how much better he feels! And how much money he's saving!
Quitting a score long addiction is no easy feat so Tyler uses this handy dandy electronic smoking device we have named Charlene because it's easier than saying handy dandy electronic smoking device. And then there's this:
Homer: Now c'mon! Give your putter a name.
Bart: What?
Homer: C'mon, give it a name.
Bart: Mister Putter.
Homer: D'oh... You wanna try a little harder son? C'mon give it a girl's name.
Bart: Mom.
Homer: Your putter's name is Charlene!
Bart: Why?
Homer: It just is, that's why!
Tyler has done marvelously and I am so, so proud of him. I don't expect perfection because I have my own costly, unhealthy addiction (SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR) and I understand. I appreciate when he confesses his slip ups, too. The fact that he's even trying speaks volumes to me. I will continue to encourage him ever after and be grateful for every day that he improves his health.
Side story:
Tyler attended my aunt's wedding with me back in October. When he was outside smoking with the others who weren't allowed to do it inside, my mother said to me, "I didn't realize he smoked."
"Yes, Mom. I know."
"For all the years you complained about your dad..."
"Yes, Mom. I know."
Friday, February 26, 2016
Reason I Love Tyler #50
While I had a skewed perspective on relationships before Tyler, it must be known that I wasn't the only one.
SPOOOOOOOOOOON
Tyler used to not understand spooning. He thought it was something for guys who "couldn't get laid" instead of a super comfortable, sexy, romantic way to cuddle. But when I came into the picture so did spooning. Tyler was surprised by how much he enjoyed it and has since been the usual instigator when it comes to spooning. In the morning, while we are slowly waking up, Tyler will turn to me and wail "SPOOOOOOOOOOON" to direct me into proper position. I love it. It's adorable. I feel desirable and loved at once. Also, Tyler has come around to being the little spoon. :-)
SPOOOOOOOOOOON
Tyler used to not understand spooning. He thought it was something for guys who "couldn't get laid" instead of a super comfortable, sexy, romantic way to cuddle. But when I came into the picture so did spooning. Tyler was surprised by how much he enjoyed it and has since been the usual instigator when it comes to spooning. In the morning, while we are slowly waking up, Tyler will turn to me and wail "SPOOOOOOOOOOON" to direct me into proper position. I love it. It's adorable. I feel desirable and loved at once. Also, Tyler has come around to being the little spoon. :-)
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Reason I Love Tyler #47
Even though I have officially been an adult for almost a decade--yikes--I still can't really cook, nor do I really enjoy it. I got by on sandwiches and cereal and of course, takeout, but then I met Tyler.
Tyler cooks for me.
To be fair, Tyler cooks for himself and has for the majority of his adult life. He even worked as a chef in our town's finest restaurant. He enjoys creating and preparing meals. Very shortly into our relationship, he naturally wanted to cook for me. I was hesitant. Why? Because I was raised in a household where my mom and only my mom ever cooked. This was per an agreement my parents made early on in their marriage. If my dad ever did cook (and he's had to in my mom's absence), it was a huge imposition. I didn't want to impose on Tyler. I also didn't yet realize the enjoyment he got from cooking, so I was thinking he was doing it because he thought I was the type of girl who would be impressed by a GASP! man cooking.
I needed to get out of my own way.
I've always been turned off by guys who do things they think will impress women. I quickly learned that Tyler was not that type of guy. He does what he does and he is who he is. He just happens to have this quality (and many, many others) that women find attractive. He was just showing me who he was, but actually not really...
The first meal Tyler ever cooked for me was chicken and vegetables. It was delicious and better than anything I could make for myself, but I later learned he was holding back because he knew how supremely uncomfortable I was accepting something so sweet and sincere.
Good God, I really needed to get out of my own way.
Eventually I did. And since then Tyler has cooked a variety of complicated meals for me and I have enjoyed every one. Not only is his food good, it's also healthy so any extra pounds I gain will be entirely owed to my binging on discount chocolate. My favorite meal is--now and forever--Buffalo wings, which is my favorite food. The fact that he made the effort to learn and perfect my favorite meal speaks volumes. I can say without a doubt that they are the best wings I have ever had.
Showing someone you love them through cooking is not a new concept. I just never thought I would be on the receiving end of that. (In case you're curious, I cook for Tyler too, albeit less frequently and with less sophistication.) Yet another reason I love him.
Tyler cooks for me.
To be fair, Tyler cooks for himself and has for the majority of his adult life. He even worked as a chef in our town's finest restaurant. He enjoys creating and preparing meals. Very shortly into our relationship, he naturally wanted to cook for me. I was hesitant. Why? Because I was raised in a household where my mom and only my mom ever cooked. This was per an agreement my parents made early on in their marriage. If my dad ever did cook (and he's had to in my mom's absence), it was a huge imposition. I didn't want to impose on Tyler. I also didn't yet realize the enjoyment he got from cooking, so I was thinking he was doing it because he thought I was the type of girl who would be impressed by a GASP! man cooking.
I needed to get out of my own way.
I've always been turned off by guys who do things they think will impress women. I quickly learned that Tyler was not that type of guy. He does what he does and he is who he is. He just happens to have this quality (and many, many others) that women find attractive. He was just showing me who he was, but actually not really...
The first meal Tyler ever cooked for me was chicken and vegetables. It was delicious and better than anything I could make for myself, but I later learned he was holding back because he knew how supremely uncomfortable I was accepting something so sweet and sincere.
Good God, I really needed to get out of my own way.
Eventually I did. And since then Tyler has cooked a variety of complicated meals for me and I have enjoyed every one. Not only is his food good, it's also healthy so any extra pounds I gain will be entirely owed to my binging on discount chocolate. My favorite meal is--now and forever--Buffalo wings, which is my favorite food. The fact that he made the effort to learn and perfect my favorite meal speaks volumes. I can say without a doubt that they are the best wings I have ever had.
Showing someone you love them through cooking is not a new concept. I just never thought I would be on the receiving end of that. (In case you're curious, I cook for Tyler too, albeit less frequently and with less sophistication.) Yet another reason I love him.
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Reason I Love Tyler #19
When one spends her adolescence reading romance novels and watching too many movies, one starts to desire certain physical acts of affection that one reads about or sees. Do these things really happen in real life? With Tyler, they do.
Forehead kisses
There's not much of an explanation for this. Tyler kisses me on the forehead. While we're standing in the kitchen, while we're sitting on the couch, while we're falling asleep. It is sweet and romantic. An innocent expression of love. And it's something I've always wanted from my boyfriend.
For about ten years, I was disenchanted with the whole idea of romance. So forehead kisses were put in the dustbin along with hand holding and slow dancing. They came to be something that happened in fiction and with "really corny people who are putting on a show." But no one is around when Tyler kisses me on the forehead. He does it because both of us like it. Or maybe it's a compulsion for him. It's just one of the ways he shows me he loves me. And I appreciate it very much. Sometimes the littlest, seemingly unimportant things mean the most. I will never take forehead kisses for granted.
Forehead kisses
There's not much of an explanation for this. Tyler kisses me on the forehead. While we're standing in the kitchen, while we're sitting on the couch, while we're falling asleep. It is sweet and romantic. An innocent expression of love. And it's something I've always wanted from my boyfriend.
For about ten years, I was disenchanted with the whole idea of romance. So forehead kisses were put in the dustbin along with hand holding and slow dancing. They came to be something that happened in fiction and with "really corny people who are putting on a show." But no one is around when Tyler kisses me on the forehead. He does it because both of us like it. Or maybe it's a compulsion for him. It's just one of the ways he shows me he loves me. And I appreciate it very much. Sometimes the littlest, seemingly unimportant things mean the most. I will never take forehead kisses for granted.
Reason I Love Tyler #99
This has been the longest I have gone without posting. I feel like an ass. A lazy ass. It's not for lack of material, believe me. I am simply a lazy ass. But if you read my last post (which I know you did) then you know that won't be happening again. Because I will from now on be an industrious, diligent, and dedicated ass.
Tyler has--basically--adopted my cat.
Look, I am a person who will never have children. I have no want or need of them. I do, however, have a lot of love to give which is why I adopted my cat, Milly (aka Millicent Andromache Moneypenny) from a former co-worker who was moving away and couldn't take her along. Even though I was single and lived alone, I figured one cat was okay. As long as only had one. Once you let them outnumber you, you tread into cat lady territory. And since Milly was female, that also meant she wasn't a replacement boyfriend; she was a friend and roommate of sorts.
On my third day of work at my new job (where I met Tyler, btw), he said something to the effect of "You seem to be in a rush to get home every night. Do you have a cat?" I was shocked by this question because how could he know? Did I stink of feline urine? Was there cat hair all over me? Did I ooze the desperate vibes of a cat lady? I had no choice but to say "Yes, but I only have one. You can't let them outnumber you. Then you become a cat lady."
I was impressed (and a little freaked!) that Tyler knew me so well so quickly. We had been flirting before that and I was nervous that the admission of having a cat would cause him to lose interest in me. I heard somewhere that a third of men won't date a woman who has cats. Was Tyler a part of this third? No, he was not. Phew! Eventually I learned that he once had a cat too. And then when he started coming over to my apartment, he met Milly for himself.
I know I'm making this sound like a bigger deal than it is. I am not trying to seem like a single mother introducing her child to a possible stepfather. And it's not like Milly is one of those devil cats who needs a warning. It was just important for these two to get along. Back then, Tyler was at my house 50% of the time. And if things were going to get serious (like they are now), it was best that he understand that Milly and I are a package deal.
Luckily, they got along swimmingly. Milly, like most cats, is independent and aloof towards strangers. Sometimes she is even this way with me. She was tentative at first but eventually came around to laying on top of Tyler and I at night. And Tyler didn't just put up with this, he enjoyed it. When I used to stay at Tyler's, I would feel guilty for leaving Milly on her own. So when it came time for me to spend two consecutive nights at Tyler's, he invited Milly to stay as well.
This eventually became a common thing; I would lug Milly in her carrying case, her food and water dishes, her cat food, and her litter box over to Tyler's and then lug her and everything else back the next day. Then for one my 12 Days of Christmas gifts, Tyler got me (and Milly, really) a new litter box and pair of food dishes to stay at his place permanently.
Eventually, because he was totally fine with it, I left Milly with Tyler while I was at work. When he got home, I would receive texts like "Yay! Milly's here!" In my absence, he has put up with several annoying meowing jags, a few hairball incidents, and one litter box mishap. And those are just the things I know about.
Tyler and I are planning to live together in a few months. I am grateful he has not only accepted but embraced this important part of my life. I am grateful there was never even the suspicion of a "it's-me-or-her" type conversation. We wouldn't have gotten as far as we are if I had. It's just another reason I love Tyler and proof we are meant for each other.
Tyler has--basically--adopted my cat.
Look, I am a person who will never have children. I have no want or need of them. I do, however, have a lot of love to give which is why I adopted my cat, Milly (aka Millicent Andromache Moneypenny) from a former co-worker who was moving away and couldn't take her along. Even though I was single and lived alone, I figured one cat was okay. As long as only had one. Once you let them outnumber you, you tread into cat lady territory. And since Milly was female, that also meant she wasn't a replacement boyfriend; she was a friend and roommate of sorts.
On my third day of work at my new job (where I met Tyler, btw), he said something to the effect of "You seem to be in a rush to get home every night. Do you have a cat?" I was shocked by this question because how could he know? Did I stink of feline urine? Was there cat hair all over me? Did I ooze the desperate vibes of a cat lady? I had no choice but to say "Yes, but I only have one. You can't let them outnumber you. Then you become a cat lady."
I was impressed (and a little freaked!) that Tyler knew me so well so quickly. We had been flirting before that and I was nervous that the admission of having a cat would cause him to lose interest in me. I heard somewhere that a third of men won't date a woman who has cats. Was Tyler a part of this third? No, he was not. Phew! Eventually I learned that he once had a cat too. And then when he started coming over to my apartment, he met Milly for himself.
I know I'm making this sound like a bigger deal than it is. I am not trying to seem like a single mother introducing her child to a possible stepfather. And it's not like Milly is one of those devil cats who needs a warning. It was just important for these two to get along. Back then, Tyler was at my house 50% of the time. And if things were going to get serious (like they are now), it was best that he understand that Milly and I are a package deal.
Luckily, they got along swimmingly. Milly, like most cats, is independent and aloof towards strangers. Sometimes she is even this way with me. She was tentative at first but eventually came around to laying on top of Tyler and I at night. And Tyler didn't just put up with this, he enjoyed it. When I used to stay at Tyler's, I would feel guilty for leaving Milly on her own. So when it came time for me to spend two consecutive nights at Tyler's, he invited Milly to stay as well.
This eventually became a common thing; I would lug Milly in her carrying case, her food and water dishes, her cat food, and her litter box over to Tyler's and then lug her and everything else back the next day. Then for one my 12 Days of Christmas gifts, Tyler got me (and Milly, really) a new litter box and pair of food dishes to stay at his place permanently.
Eventually, because he was totally fine with it, I left Milly with Tyler while I was at work. When he got home, I would receive texts like "Yay! Milly's here!" In my absence, he has put up with several annoying meowing jags, a few hairball incidents, and one litter box mishap. And those are just the things I know about.
Tyler and I are planning to live together in a few months. I am grateful he has not only accepted but embraced this important part of my life. I am grateful there was never even the suspicion of a "it's-me-or-her" type conversation. We wouldn't have gotten as far as we are if I had. It's just another reason I love Tyler and proof we are meant for each other.
Monday, February 22, 2016
About a Blog
Eight years ago, I started a blog. It was 2008 and seemed like an honorable past time for a college student who had no life. It was meant to be a blog where movies, music, TV and other pop culture ilk was reviewed and discussed because...well, it 2008 and everyone was doing it. Even if begun with pure intentions, this blog grew into something else; a dumping ground for my angst and/or negative behaviors and opinions. I kept with it until 2012. Shortly before my last few posts, I got my first full time job and my own apartment. I had no internet access and dragging my laptop to the library every week seemed like a hassle. So even with the promise that I "FULLY INTENDED" to keep up with it, I didn't.
And then Google changed its login rules (or some such shit) and I was unable to ever log in again. I didn't care, though. I was bored with blogging. So even though I wanted to delete it, I couldn't. But it's a common story. There are lots of abandoned blogs floating around. Boo hoo. Yes, boo hoo, indeed, because mine has hurt the person I care about most. When Tyler found that blog, I came to realize why I abandoned it and attempted to ignore it. It's written proof of things I regret doing and feeling. Even though I have tried and tried and tried and tried and tried to delete it, I can't. If I could, I would blow up the whole damn internet to get rid of this thing. But I can't do that either. I lack the technology and know how. But believe you me, I would in a heartbeat.
I posted 321 times over the course of five years on that piece of shit. The only way I can think of to rectify that is to post even more on this blog at a higher rate and with productive, positive things. So enough blathering. Get busy living or get busy dying.
And then Google changed its login rules (or some such shit) and I was unable to ever log in again. I didn't care, though. I was bored with blogging. So even though I wanted to delete it, I couldn't. But it's a common story. There are lots of abandoned blogs floating around. Boo hoo. Yes, boo hoo, indeed, because mine has hurt the person I care about most. When Tyler found that blog, I came to realize why I abandoned it and attempted to ignore it. It's written proof of things I regret doing and feeling. Even though I have tried and tried and tried and tried and tried to delete it, I can't. If I could, I would blow up the whole damn internet to get rid of this thing. But I can't do that either. I lack the technology and know how. But believe you me, I would in a heartbeat.
I posted 321 times over the course of five years on that piece of shit. The only way I can think of to rectify that is to post even more on this blog at a higher rate and with productive, positive things. So enough blathering. Get busy living or get busy dying.