the 15 year itch: trophy husbands and high school reunions

first, and most importantly, mrs. blogmaster is doing much better.  she still has her moments and isn't quite out of the woods yet, but overall, i would have to say she has improved dramatically.  this is a good thing.  i'd like to blame my recent absence from the blog on my all consuming efforts to take care of my dear wife in her time of need, but that would only be partially true... depending on who you ask.  rather, i am caught yet again with my pants on the ground searching for a new inadequate excuse for neglecting my faithful followers... if there are any left out there.

so, on that note of reconciliation, i will attempt to jump start this idle blog from the dead in effort to see if i can regain the hearts and minds of the zombie nation.  and in my triumphant return to the keyboard, i will hearken all the way back to the summer of 2010 and recreate mrs. blogmaster's first outing in public following the epstein bar diagnosis.  it just so happens that said outing occurred for the sole purpose of attending aim's 15 year high school reunion in provo, utah.

for starters, before you fill up the comments section of this post with all types of "15 years? you don't look old enough to have a 15 year reunion already" let me just say, you're right.... at least for me.  aim is actually 7 years older than i am.  just kidding.  yes, we are that old... actually, i'm older.  i'll be 35 in december.

back to the reunion.  i've never attended any of mine and, in general, i'm not a huge fan of them.  more on that some other time.  but, being the good spouse i am, i was willing to support aim in attending her own as the dutiful trophy husband i've become so accustomed to being.  apparently, this is important to her and i've learned to accept the fact that mrs. blogmaster basically married me for my frighteningly good looks and unusually large head.

at first, i was slightly offended when she would ask me to not talk around her friends as i felt that i was so much more than a simple piece of eye candy... albeit a delectable, if not succulent, hunk of a finely chiseled gourmet chocolate... you know, the european stuff and not that plasticky american crap; but, eventually the whole charade kind of wore down when we moved back to vegas as she knew it was pointless to carry on as before since everyone already knew me anyway.

but provo is a different story... all her friends there still fall for the ruse.  and if it's important to her, it's kind of important to me as long as i get something out of it and it's convenient.  such was the case here because i got a new pair of sunglasses.  problem is, all of the stores in provo quit selling sunglasses in june and start stocking their shelves with their fall and winter apparel in july.  apparently, the sun doesn't shine during the fall and winter in provo and sunglasses are unnecessary.  i had to go to three different stores before i could find a pair that i liked enough without paying a grip of cash and then aim didn't seem to think they passed muster when i modeled them for her.  it's rough trying to fulfill the ideal trophy husband image when your wife doesn't think the sunglasses are up to par... i was feeling self-conscious already.

once purchased, and not a moment too soon, off we went to the park during the day (i would never wear my sunglasses indoors or at night even though i like the song).  having become comfortable with the glasses, i was able to take on a completely different persona and, as a result, slid right into the trophy husband character aim needed right then.

and for those who don't quite get where i'm coming from, you need to understand that as far as i can tell aim was something of a big deal at her high school back in the day and, so, i guess her friends need to see that she married someone that appears to be as big of deal as she was back then.  enter me.

actually, she will never admit to this stuff and will actually be quite upset at me for typing any of it at all, but that's what she gets for making me be her trophy husband for all these years... besides she doesn't know the password to the blog to get on and delete this, so she'll just have to deal with it.  no way i can give her that information... she'd delete the majority of my best work.  that's just the way it is... one of the perks of being a trophy husband i guess.

what?  i won't even give my brother-in-law the password to his facebook account i set up and manage for him, no matter how uncomfortable it makes him.  he pretty much freaked out when i set it up for him and invited a bunch of people to be his friend since he seemed to think that essentially meant he was asking each of them to go steady with him.

at any rate, the reunion was a success.  i tore off my shirt five minutes after i got there and did ab points for hours to the absolute delight of her high school buddies and then finished up with chris farley's chippendales routine to round things out.  i feel like it reinforces our children's sense of security to see their dad doing these kinds of things for their mother, so, all in all, i'd have to say it was a quality family outing.  add to it that before the event had ended, at least 43% of aim's friends told her she'd married the exact kind of guy they thought she would.  i saw her smile and beam with pride even though she was pretty wiped out from the epstein bar stuff.  that made it all worth it for me.

i guess that's about it... and just in case the satire is lost on all y'all, aim demands no such thing of me and i did no such things while at the reunion (my abs aren't even fully visible unless i get an artistic spray tan).  this much is true: we did go to the reunion and an attendee did tell me he's a zombie, but that as i type up my blog posts i need to be more vigilant in stopping sooner than i do and backing away from the keyboard.  so, with great reluctance, i will now stop and back away from the keyboard.