WAYT: Ryan Lochte is the worst party guest

I honestly don’t care that Prince Harry got naked in Vegas.  What I do care about, is that he would spend his free time with Ryan Lochte.  What are you thinking, Henry Charles Albert David?

Everyone knows that Harry is the cheeky prince.  Maybe I’d have to be British to be outraged that he was up to no good on his post-Olympics vacation.  Except that I’ve accepted Harry for who he is, so I’m just not surprised that he got caught again. 

Harry once made a real mistake, dressing up like a Nazi for Halloween.  (Harry really needs to get some better security who will sweep his playmates for recording devices.)  But this isn’t that big of a deal.  He went to Vegas, found some chicks who wanted to hang with him (me, me!), became inebriated, and took off his knickers.  I’ve been to Vegas and didn’t party like that, but we all know this is the type of thing that Vegas is meant for.

Everyone makes mistakes.  Everyone has lapses in judgment.  And at least no one is filing charges against him. 

In my opinion, the most egregious offense is that Harry would grant an audience to Ryan Lochte.  Sure, the guy is a decorated Olympian.  Sure, all of the American swimmers are nice to look at – I don’t know how you you could train as hard as they do and not become a drool-worthy physical specimen.  But the fact of the matter is, Ryan Lochte is obnoxious. 

A grill on the medal podium?  The catch phrase “Jeah”?  Allowing your mom to tell the morning news shows that you deal in one night stands?  This guy annoys me more than Justin Bieber.  I admire Lochte’s talent, but he’s a punk. 

Of course the media is blowing this whole story way out of proportion.  It’s not a violation of free speech for the monarchy to ask the press to leave the pictures of Harry off the front page.  I personally don’t need to see Harry’s crown jewels covered by a black dot.  That would be an exploitation of Harry, and in my opinion, a violation of his right to privacy.  When the Queen tells the press they had better not publish the pictures, that’s the message that I receive.  If you think that Harry meant for the whole world to see these pictures, I’m sure you’re wrong.    

The media is always on a witch hunt.  They always want to sensationalize beyond all reason, and they always want to tear everyone down to their lowest common denominator. 

I don’t find Harry to be a disgrace.  I find him to be remarkably honest in his youth and inexperience.  If anyone’s lived a sheltered life, I’m sure it’s him.  Sure, he’s met world leaders and fills a huge public role for Great Britain, but he’s still young, still a bachelor, and still one of the richest guys on the planet, surrounded by people who try to protect his interests because he’s not capable of doing it for himself all the time.  How sensible can you be when you live his life?  I wonder. 

Don’t you suppose that Harry feels pretty lonely and sad now?  There he was, having a great time and letting loose, and now he’s been exposed and ridiculed and it’s still not enough – the press and the public want more.  It’s actually disgusting that anyone would turn his Vegas trip into what it’s become. 

And while I’m preaching, for heaven’s sake Ryan Lochte, quit whoring yourself out for any promotional opportunity you can find.  What are you thinking?  You don’t need to be The Bachelor, you don’t need to copyright every stupid thought that ends up coming out of your mouth and you don’t need this much attention.  You are about to cross the line that Harry hasn’t.  Be content with your Wheaties box and leave us all alone for a while. 

P.S. I’ve been gone for a while due to site maintenance.  In case you were wondering…

WAYT: Valentine's Day Fanatics

Frank and I do not celebrate Valentine’s Day.  In the past, even as recently as two years ago, we always made a point to mark the occasion in a particular way.  He is (and I will still say is, even though we don’t celebrate anymore) the king of creative ideas. 

One year, he bought me one of those giant cards and wrote me a poem on cut out hearts that he glued onto the giant card.  One year, when I was living in DC, he bought a pack of kid’s Valentine’s, personalized and numbered them, and sent them to me in a box, so I had to open them in numerical order to read his message to me.  Another year, when I was really into that season of The Bachelor, he laid out rose petals leading into the house and at the end, asked me if I would accept the rose. 

He’s a peach!  Remembering those gifts makes me smile and catch my breath, even years later. 

But now we realize that as a married couple, our relationship isn’t about marking a day with frivolous gifts just because the rest of the world does.  It’s about knowing we have something special every day, and making time to recognize that spontaneously or on any date of our choosing. 

We could be better at that.  I could be better at that. 

The thing about my memories of Frank’s gifts is that I never asked him to do any of that.  I was so wowed because he got creative, and all on his own!  I wonder what are you thinking, people who place insane pressure on your significant others to celebrate Valentine’s Day?  Don’t you think that you’d rather have a significant other who wanted to show you what you mean to him/her all the time?  Rather than be bullied into it by your incessant hint-dropping?  Or your neurotic need to tell everyone about what your person did for you on Valentine’s Day? 

I’m not just saying this because everyone else says it, I’m saying it because it’s true: Valentine’s Day is a commercial holiday.  It used to mean something, eons ago.  It used to mark something having to do with history.  I don’t even feel like Googling it to find out the real reason for the holiday; it’s pointless now.  Because that real reason is now hopelessly lost in Consumerism. 

Of course, there are couples who use the date as a special occasion.  No one drops hints, no one throws a fit to get their way.  Personally, I am always more impressed by the couples who have sweet stories to tell all the time.  That shows dedication.  If Walgreens tells me to buy candy and that’s the only time I wake up enough to think of Frank, then I’m missing my life as it flashes by, unmarked and unsweetened. 

I’m lucky because I know that Frank would do those Valentine’s Day things for me any day.  He used to make the effort to mark Valentine’s Day, but nothing would stop him now if he felt like sending me a sweet note on a random Wednesday.  He is known to make a shopping trip and come home with pretty flowers, just to show me he was thinking of me. 

I’m going to celebrate Valentine’s Day this year by digging out my memories box to look back on those past gifts.  Memories are a gift too, you know?  And not just newly created, prompted, scripted or otherwise expected memories.