How to be Married

A lesson in relationship stuff that's way smarter than stuff Oprah or Dr. Phil says because I'm a self-proclaimed expert in marriage.


By Jessica Benassi, self proclaimed expert on marriage


First - Get married before you get married. Some people call this “being divorced.” Getting married before you get married is a lot like dodgeball practice.



Sure, your co-captain launches dodgeballs at your gut the whole time, causing you to double over in agony and wonder why it seems like nobody’s following the rules.




He might even launch the ball at your head, knocking your glasses off and making it so that the tall, super bitchy blonde standing next to him is kind of out of focus and doesn’t look like a dodgeball threat.




This is ok…it’s just practice and it doesn’t actually count like a real dodgeball game . (If you’re Catholic, sometimes it’s harder to prove that dodgeball practice doesn’t count, but that’s only because most Catholic people like soccer and dodgeball probably confuses them a little bit.)
Usually you can find a fair and honest referee that will agree that your original game was just practice. Actually, sometimes the referees suck, but the important thing is that everybody agrees that at the end of the day, it was just a practice game and also, everybody should get to keep the sweatbands and tube socks that they brought to practice and not be a dick and try to take everybody else’s sweatbands and tube socks.




One thing that can get tricky is when team members decide to enlist a mascot for practice games. This is pretty stupid, because practice games don’t need a mascot and when it’s time to play real dodgeball, everybody thinks that the mascot should represent their team. The only way to solve the mascot dilemma is to put the mascot in a circle and have both co-captains from the practice game call to the mascot and let the mascot choose her own team. Also, it’s important to shove bologna in your bra and in your socks, otherwise you run the risk of the mascot choosing the wrong team and that would be stupid because you’re the one that picked the mascot in the first place.

Sometimes people get babies and little kids and stuff as mascots and things get weird. I don’t have any advice to give about that…the only mascots I’ve ever had were canine except the one time when I had a baby, except he was an imaginary baby and now he’s all grown up and in the FBI and the CIA and is apparently too good to play dodgeball with his family, and also he’s ungrateful.




Once you’re done practicing and you have your tubesocks and your sweatbands and your mascot, you’re ready for real dodgeball. Real dodgeball can also be tricky, because sometimes your co-captain seems like he’s not on your team and when you’re not looking, he’s launching dodgeballs at your gut and you might get confused and start thinking that you’re practicing again. Take a deep breath. You practiced your dodgeball game way longer than any sane person should ever practice dodgeball and you know what to do.



Crouch down…catch the ball…launch it back, straight at his big fat husband head...except be careful not to mess up the wig, because those are expensive and also probably a limited edition.




In the morning, when he is conscious again, he will acknowledge you as the Supreme Dodgeball Champion of the House and surprise you with French toast in bed and DVD copies of every Joseph Fiennes movie ever made, because Joseph Fiennes is beautiful and also the patron saint of dodgeball and marriage.



You’re welcome.



7 comments:

Pogue February 11, 2011 at 6:45 PM  

Pretty good, Benassi. Pretty good.

Amy Kennard February 11, 2011 at 11:24 PM  

OK, I don't usually do this, but since you are a blogging goddess (as opposed to a glogging boddess), I have to wonder if you read my blog that I wrote just last night?

www.amykennard.blogspot.com

OK, yeah, it's a shameless plug, but aside from that, I wrote it about the fact that I am getting married (for the second time) and I am in need of advice.

And POOF. Here you are - all dodge-bally.

I really must come in and see you.

Barbara February 12, 2011 at 3:19 PM  

One thing you forgot to mention is that during the practice game, or the real game, when someone (he) commits a foul, you often get awarded prizes in the form of flowers, dinner out, jewelry, and sometimes great overtime activities.

BTW, you are totally deranged, which, coming from me is a huge compliment.

Not So Simply Single February 16, 2011 at 2:01 AM  

I have been looking for a marriage expert. Glad I found one....

Lisa

Insanitykim February 18, 2011 at 3:27 PM  

I AM SO CONFUSED!

I am mostly freaked out that my imaginary god-child (we discussed that, right?) is that red-headed Irish guy from that show about that stuff-n-things...

Do Catholics like American soccer or European football?

What happens when I wear my tubesocks as a sweatband?

Can I wear tampons as earrings?

I thought we were only supposed to put bologna under our alcohol ankle bracelets...

EVERYONE can play dodgeball together?

I don't know who Joseph Fiennes is...

I think I am going to throw up and then cry a little bit.

Julie December 25, 2011 at 5:25 PM  

You're amazing - you should do this professionally.

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About This Blog

Everything in this blog is copyright Jessica Benassi AKA Hey Lola except where I give credit to other people because obviously, that's their stuff. Don't steal my stuff. I mean, I'm not sure why you would want to, anyway, but if you're thinking about it...don't. Also, all of this nonsense is my opininion and is not supported or endorsed by Blogger or anyone ese. I mean, maybe it is, but if something I say just infuriates you, I take sole responsibility.

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