A couple few weeks ago when cleaning the toilet I noticed a tiiiiiny hairline fracture in the seat. I remember making a note of how disgusting that was, that it was probably a bacterial grand canyon and telling myself that we needed to replace the toilet seat asap and possibly work harder on getting the toddler to stop standing on the lid and jumping. Still, it wasn’t that big of a deal in my mind. Then one night last week I went in to pee before bed and the seat is broken. Right where the tiny crack had been, it’s totally broken. So I managed balance on half a toilet seat to pee. (I only mention ‘cause I know you’ll ask) and the next day when I see The Man I ask him… “Dude.. What the hell happened to the toilet seat?” and he says “It’s always been that way!” and I say “Not like THAT.” and he says “Yeah, don’t you remember I mentioned it was pinching me on the ass every time I sat on it?” and I say “ahahahahahahahaahhahahaah! Hell no you didn’t tell me that, there’s no way I would forget that.” What I’m trying to figure out is… when exactly he intended to replace the seat. Not after it started pinching him on the ass, that’s for sure. And not after it completely broke either, he didn’t even think to mention it to me. I had to make a family field trip to go get one not made out of plastic. It’s just funny. What the hell would it take for him?
On Country Life:
Since we moved here I’ve been admiring these giant beautiful looking birds soaring around on wind currents. The house sits on a hill and there’s quite the view…… you know…..If you tilt your chin up and avoid making eye contact with the random neighborhood dog taking a dump on my grass, you can see some serious beauty. So when I go out on the porch to smoke, or from the kitchen window above the sink I watch this pair of awesome birds playing out there out past the edge of the world. Just gliding around, riding the currents, doing their bird thing and it was like one dry spot in a sea of broken water heaters and broken septic tanks and shitting dogs and mice in my car heater and gutters that fly off every time the wind blows south, trees toppling in the east wind the rest of the time, the mud hole where my car sits and on and on and on. Amongst all that there’s the birds and they weren‘t the only dry spot but they were a frequent respite. Then one day The Man is home and he stands behind me to see what I’m looking at, which is the birds. They brought friends and now there are four of them and he casually says “Look at those vultures circling our house.”
On Relationshits:
When I met him I was carrying the world on my shoulders and it held me ramrod straight and unbending. I said “this is who I am and if you think you can take it I might let you walk next to me.” and so he did and over time he took the load off my shoulders and put it on his. It stacks up high on him and holds him ramrod straight and unbending… Of course now that he’s carrying it I can see it’s all bunk. I try knocking it off him; useless ideas about right and the way things should be done, and family and trapped and don’t ever let go and twelve to fifteen fairy tales and two dead bodies and a shadow he doesn’t even know is up there and that‘s just my shit on top of his. He wouldn‘t even agree he‘s carrying it but that‘s just part of his shit and mainly because he can‘t see me. I point and ridicule his tight grip on angry, his never open, never see inside self and beg him to put the shit down or at least wipe a window so I know he’s in there and he refuses. He’s afraid if I see what’s in him I’ll run. Of course that’s backwards and ridiculous. I already see him. And I certainly can’t run when he has all my shit.
April 02, 2009
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