Tango wet cropped

It’s kind of funny to feel like a very romantic couple, to post little tidbits of romance like you know what you’re talking about, to be held up as a standard by some, to be told “you guys help me know what real love is” – and then to have nothing to say during the “romance month”!  It’s like (*horrors*) – I have no romance left in me!

Say it ain’t so, Joe!!

Well, first of all, my name is not Joe, it’s Nan. But OK, it ain’t so. Truth is, Alpha Hubby is out of town and I’m just blech. Meh. Missing him.

woman screaming

And then sometimes I think people just have to be tired of me talking about our affair or romantic things I’ve learned.  You know? Like “GAG ME?” meant both ways?  As in, “Look Nan, gag me! I’m puke sick of reading about you-you-you” or “Put a gag on Nan, you’re boring me!”

Lately it seems difficult to find things “romantic” to apply to our marriage, things romance-related.  To find something DIFFERENT  that is romantic.  You know like all the magazines suggest, “Keep your sex life and the romance kindled and hot-hot-hot!”  Blech.  We are limited in choices.

couple, bored
Bored Couple

Those people in that pix don’t live in the boonies.  Living in the boonies means you can’t dress up and go to the opera.  You can’t take a carriage ride.  You can’t even find an up-scale restaurant right around the corner…

…(you know, the kind with linen tablecloths and CLOTH napkins, real silver, candles, and waiters that DO NOT introduce themselves to you with a, “Hello, my name is Bubba and I’ll be your waiter tonight and since I’m working so I can buy a big gun for deer camp and really need the money for my jacked up truck, I am going to interrupt you many, many times tonight to make sure you know I’m here and will leave a good tip.”).

pumpkin carriage

You get the picture.  We have no place to go unless we want to go to the movies or we want to drive over an hour plus to get to a nice restaurant… which sort of stifles the romance when you also have to drive back home late at night without a limo and chauffeur so you can mess around in the back seat.

The lack of choices produces an unbearable ennui sometimes. Sometimes the most exciting thing in the boonies is to watch the bug zapper in the back yard.  OK, OK, I know, grossssss. It is so exhausting to search for different ways to be romantic.  It means you have to THINK.

It is so bad that before Valentine’s Day I asked Alpha Hubby, “What are we going to do for Valentine’s Day?”

He says, “I don’t know.  What do you have in mind?”

I say, ‘I got nothing. I’m not sure I want to do anything.  I mean, I don’t want to waste money when there are so many places we can’t eat.  And I don’t want us to spend money on each other. You KNOW what happened that *time you tried to get me flowers.”

Growl. He says, “Yeah, yeah, $11,000 flowers. ”

Then I began whining, “Oh my gosh is the romance dead here?  Have we finally lost the honeymoon period after 20 years?  Are we doooomed?”

He snickered, “Drama Queen.  We could go to the Swiss restaurant if you want.  I would be glad to take you if you want to go.”

I reply, “Ugh.  It’s okay but it is really not a romantic restaurant.”

He says, “Well, it’s just a thought.  At least I thought of something.”

I say, “I can pick up something and bring it home so we can eat here, on our beautiful table (that he made me), with candles and such.”  (Altho truth tell I am thinking, “That is not romantic.

He says, “No, that’s work on you and not romantic.”

Silence ensures.

I say, “Well, fine then.  Then we’ll do the usual.  Just come home, candles, share a glass, romantic music, maybe dance a little, and then, of course, have wild, hawt sex.”

He says, “Works for me.”

And they say romance is dead!

heart cc Flickr photo seyed mostafa zamani

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*He’d pulled into the Wal*art parking lot in his Hummer to get me flowers. The front end of the Hummer made it hard to see low to the ground in front of it. He was looking for a parking place easy to get into and turned left at the end of the parking row. BANG! He hit the concrete that was wrapped around the light pole. It was hard to see it.  It cost $11,000 in repairs to fix the front end. He vowed never to go to Wal*mart again.