Someone put up a sign where I work not long ago that merely said, "Fuck it." I noticed a few days later that someone added to it, "OK, but you're it." Not in the same way at all, but Jess has decided I'm it. This is a first for me, but here goes. My answers to five questions of which I've never thought:
1. Wednesday, Nov. 5, 2008. Our side won! How do you celebrate?
Hmmm.... Call in sick to start. Bang the beejeezus out of the wife. Double shots of Irish Cream in my coffee. Host a barbecue for the neighborhood.
2. Are you on a boat or are you a land lubber or do you soar?
I live in a house, on land, but I love being on the water. I fished and crabbed when I lived in Southeast Alaska, and there's nothing like falling asleep on a boat at anchor. It's just like being rocked to sleep in a cradle. Of natural DD boobs. on a different note, I consider myself a fairly down-to-earth logical person. Not highly imaginative, unless the subject is a bit perverse. Fairly predictable, unless in mixed company and expected to behave.
3. What was the last mistake you wished you could cover up?
Probably that time I was wrong. Actually, I can't really think of one, and that's not meant to imply that I'm at all perfect. There's no real need to cover up honest mistakes. It's intentional lies, law breaking and outright stupidity that need covering, like Vitter's shit, or giving over your credit card in a titty bar.
4. Are your omelettes fluffy?
Shit. I haven't attempted one in about ten years. Now I'm going to have to go make one to find out.
5. When was the last time your paradigm shifted?
"Paradigm: 1: model, pattern 2: a systematic inflection of a verb or noun showing a complete conjugation or declension." Riiiiight... Hmmmmm... Welllllll... Since being married and having a step-family, it seems like things are constantly shifting. Dealing with my mother-in-law's dementia is always a challenge. It's gotten to the point now, where she doesn't know where she lives most of the time. Then there's life with the step-daughter and grandmonster. They recently moved in after she decided to kick her oxycontin addiction. She and I NEVER got along, but she's been taking her treatment/recovery seriously and is undergoing some real changes. I hope that she continues, but I fear that she won't. She's earned a bit of my respect, and I've actually come to kind of like her. I don't have to put up with her; I can enjoy her company and conversation. Sounds easy, right?
Life was easier when I hated her. I never gave a rat's ass what she did, or if she got into trouble -- except with regards as to how she would pawn off the consequences to my wife and I. Now I worry. I don't want to see her relapse into the bitch-queen she was, who thought that acting grown up and accumulating things, was the same as being grown up and earning your place in life. She wants to act like a teenager and I want to slap her silly and ground her even though I know that neither would do her any good. She talks about guys and instead of me worrying about them knowing what they light be getting into, I worry about her getting her heart broken or just feeling used and thrown away. I'm not used to that. At all. It's like being a fucking dad or something.