Mind your own beeswax …
I love that Sarah and I get to share a portion of our commute together. Whether it be the bus or the subway, it is enjoyable to spend that precious extra time together before going our separate ways to our respective jobs. Sometimes we spend this time talking. Sometimes we read whatever books we may be reading. Sometimes we make out.
We are an affectionate couple. Ok… we are a very affectionate couple. But we aren’t vulgar or obscene. So I was a bit surprised when a woman on the Metro train the other day snidely told us to be “more considerate of the other passengers.”
“Excuse me?” I said looking over Sarah’s shoulder at this harpy sitting behind where we stood.
“You should be more considerate of the other passengers,” she repeated glancing around her as if looking for support.
“All I am doing is showing affection for the woman I love,” I said with a smile on my face, hugging Sarah closer to me.
She mumbled something else about being married and understanding, but continued to cop an attitude and say more stupid things.
“You have a newspaper. Why don’t you read it and mind your own business?” I finally told her.
She rustled her Washington Times and Sarah and I went back to showering each other with affection. A few stops later Ms. Buttinsky slinked off in a huff.
Girls and their Gadgets …
![[click to enlarge] Sarah and her crack delivery device ...](/images/sarah_tetris_LG.jpg)
The chick digs her gadgets. She may not watch television but accessorized with a mobile phone, a PDA, and a swanky-cool iBook, the girl is definitely in touch with her gizmo gene. Not to mention the whole wireless network she put together for us.
However, it ends up that with all these new-fangled doohickeys at her disposal, it is a piece of old-school technology that has become her newest obsession… a Macintosh Classic. They’re not just for fish anymore.
Wedding Planning: hut-hut-hike! …
Planning a wedding is complicated, even for a very small (read six guests, no attendants) ceremony. There’s the location, the officiant, the clothes, the season of year. Not to mention taking care of the guests: transportation and lodging, getting them to and from the ceremony and reception sites, family politics, etc, ad nauseum. And tonight, we were tackling a different monster altogether: the text of the ceremony itself.
Working on the vows and blessings got us thinking of the first part of the ceremony. Before anyone says a peep, you ‘ve got to get yourself, your betrothed, the minister, and your guests to the right spot and into some sort of comfortable arrangement so that the ceremony can proceed in an orderly and dignified way. Suddenly, the order of who stands where and how the hell I’m supposed to even get from point A to point B seems like a monumental task. I think: “You mean I’m going to have to walk 10 steps all by myself and remember whether to go right or left!?!”
So to ease the stress that these simple decisions were causing me, he suggested we diagram the whole thing. By the time we had the processional all figured out, we had a piece of paper that looked like a page from Vince Lombardi’s playbook. X’s, O’s, lines, arrows, but damned if we didn’t have it all figured out when we were done. Oh sure, you think I’m exaggerating the complexity of this one aspect of the ceremony planning, but I dare you to sit down and write your own. You’d be amazed at how quickly the simple act of assembling a small group can become a complex maneuver of social engineering.
A Partner in the Pantry …
This lovely, delicious meal was brought to you by teamwork:
It’s so nice to have an equal partner in the kitchen.
The Contents of the Trashcan …
The contents of our bedside trashcan amuses me. Nothing but wrappers from cookies and condoms.