June 2012

What About Bob?

June 29, 2012

I feel like I should answer a few questions about Bob.

I get asked about him, a lot.

Here are a few answers…

Yes. He is a real person. I did not make him up.

If Bob were imaginary, I would have named him something other than Bob. Like Channing Tatum.

Yes. Bob reads my blog. He reads most of my posts before they go live. Not all, but most. I like his feedback and I take his opinion seriously. Bob can be kind of a tough crowd. If he laughs or likes what I have to say, I know the post is good to go. If not, I edit or rewrite.

With re: to my subject matter…Bob is well aware of my light AND dark side(s). And, Bob is a grown a$$ man. If he couldn’t handle my bangs, my sense of humor (or lack thereof, depending on the circumstances) and/or the blog – he wouldn’t be with me – and I wouldn’t be with him. That doesn’t mean I don’t test Bob’s limits (he recently told me that I do). That doesn’t mean I am easy to love. I am not. But grown a$$ man Bob is one of my biggest fans. Because he chooses to be. At some point, he could choose not to be. I am fully aware of that.

Bob’s last name is Daly (like the golfer). Mine is not. It is Paulsen. And it always will be.

I added Daly to my full name when we went to the County Clerk’s office to get our marriage license. Then I never legally added/changed it, because I never really wanted to change my name. I thought I could do it. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t do it. It has nothing to do with Bob. It has everything to do with me. I just can’t and won’t let go of Paulsen. It’s part of me. It’s who I am. It’s who I want to be. I don’t want to be Mrs. Anybody Else. And I honestly don’t care if anyone understands or appreciates that about me. I know how it sounds. I cringed when I wrote it. But it’s true. Bob and I have talked about it. I can’t help the way I feel about holding on to my last name. Somewhere in my brain, holding onto Paulsen translates to holding on to the legacy of my father and my fierce desire for independence. And I’m lucky enough to be married to a man who has been understanding about all of that. I like to pretend it’s a compromise that I use “Natalie Daily” – relative to my Twitter profile and blog. I’m not sure Bob sees it that way but it has given us some good material to use around the house. It has even given our friends some material to use when they’re in the mood to take low blows. I heart good material.

Yes. I know Bob is a nicer person than me. Everybody knows. We don’t need to elaborate on this topic.

Yes. We are both only children. It’s not as obvious when you meet Bob (it’s pretty obvious I did not grow up sharing anything, with anyone). For the most part, Bob cares more about other people than he does himself. That being said, he is particularly good at the quiet/silent game and extremely aggressive on the road. Please, for your safety, don’t cross him on the freeway. His silent treatment is nothing compared to his road rage.

Yes. I could/should write nicer things about Bob. I just don’t feel like it. It’s not the kind of writer I am right now. It’s not where I am in my life. Why write about love, and marriage, and ponies, and rainbows and babies when you can write about blunt bangs? Or your dark, darker and darkest days? Or your favorite actors channeling male strippers? And pick on Bob. Way more fun. Way better fodder.

One day I’ll write something sweet about Bob. Today’s not that day. Sorry Bob.

Yes. I know how to cook. I’m actually a really good cook. I’m creative in the kitchen. Even my presentation is on par. But no, I do not cook for Bob. He cooks. He also does laundry and cleans. He’s naturally thin and domesticated. Need I say much more about Bob?

This is what Bob sounds like on a “daily” basis (this is a real conversation):

Me: I don’t feel like talking (to anyone) today.

Bob: That tells me you must have things you need to talk about.

Me: You can suck it Daly.

Bob: Magic Mike can suck it.

Me: We talked about this. You probably shouldn’t say things like that about Magic Mike.

Bob: You’d probably let him.

Me: I would. And I wouldn’t even feel bad.

Bob: I’m sure you wouldn’t.

Me: Nope. Not even a little bit.

Bob: Magic Mike is a douchebag.

Me: What are you talking about? No he’s not. You don’t even know him.

Bob: He’s a douchebag.

Me: Stop saying that. He’s not a douchebag.

Bob: Why are you getting so defensive Paulsen? Are you going to marry him?

Me: Probably. As soon as I get rid of you and he gets rid of that dancer chick from the Step Up movie.

Yes. Bob is a saint.

For those of you that doubted the power of Magic Mike…I’m almost positive that movie is the only reason this post was possible. I haven’t been able to write for a few days now. Then I spent two hours with those impossible muscles Matthew McConaughey has right at his waistline…and this came pouring out. I know my writing was inspired by the film and the fact that I just found out Channing Tatum was in a Ricky Martin music video.

Yeah, you guessed it.

He bangs.

How did I not know this? Why didn’t anyone tell me? Of all the songs. (S)HE BANGS.

Back to Bob for a second…

Bob – Dallas and Magic Mike would like to wish you a Happy Almost 4th of July.


Tiny Dancer

June 20, 2012

I’m not going to sack up and finish the seriously depressing Father’s Day post.

I’m just going to say this instead…

If my father was alive, he would not have been very impressed with my behavior on Father’s Day. I was so young when he died that I can’t really say I knew him, but I know enough to know he would not have cared about my self-inflicted migraine. He would not have cared how many days in a row I slept with my jaws completely locked. He would have dragged my sorry a$$ out of bed and we would have had some Father’s Day beers together.

And, if my father was alive, I think Almost Famous would be one of our favorite movies.

This would be one of our favorite scenes. I’m certain we would sing-a-long.

Happy belated Father’s Day Dad.

I’m sorry it took me a few days to come around.


Your Tiny Blunt-Banged Dancer


Salma Hayek’s bangs just saved us all from a seriously depressing Father’s Day blog (which I may still sack up and post at some point).

Salma Hayek’s bangs also made me smile so big my upper and lower jaws actually became unattached (they have been tightly clenched for three days, straight).

Not gonna lie. I don’t think it’s an accident Salma has blunt bangs in her new film, Savages. After seeing Salma in the trailer, I’m convinced you’d have to have blunt bangs to be the head of a Mexican drug cartel. This means, with a little work on my fierceness, I could be the head of a Mexican drug cartel. I already have the hair cut.

Photo: Universal Pictures

In honor of Salma, and these seriously “savage” bangs – I did something fierce yesterday. But I’m not telling anybody what I did. That’s between me and my victim(s).

Please give a round of applause to Salma. She bangs.

Please Note: For the purpose of this blog – “she bangs” is a compliment (I know what some of you sickos were thinking). It’s the highest compliment. It’s also going to become a regular feature/category for instances like this – for bangs that simply cannot be ignored. Salma’s bangs in Savages simply could not be ignored.