Skip to main content

Now for something quirky

My husband.
1. Rob came home from happy hour one night while and I had my group over to work on our statistics project. Not wanting to disturb us he grabbed a beer from the fridge, some stale goldfish from the food bank, and his guitar and was off to our bedroom to play: perfectly happy.
2. The other day I realized he didn't know where the lint trap was on the dryer after 10 months of living in our current place. This is because he knows I like to peel the lint from the screen (much as I like to peel people's sunburns,) so he's been leaving it for me all this time.
3. This morning while getting ready for work, he was obsessed with coming up with a bluegrass version of "Don't call me daughter" by Pearl Jam. So he peaked around corners and sang different parts of the song in his bluegrass voice while playing the air mandolin.
I freakin love him.
Labels:

Comments

  1. meAugust 5, 2008 at 4:08 PM

    :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. dollginaAugust 6, 2008 at 1:48 PM

    So cute! I love little quirks.

    P.S. Loved your Judith's-dream-haiku and included it on my blog today. Hope that's okay!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Where'd the monkeys in my hair go?

I promise I will post Wednesdays' Weirdos again next week, but the pictures for this week got trapped on my camera with a dead battery. Sorry. I suck. Instead I'll tell you a drinking story. We were in St. Louis visiting for the holidays and a rare opportunity to get annihilated with my girlfriends presented itself. I started out with two beers while I was waiting for the girls with Rob's friends. Then, when we got to the fancy-pants bar I switched to whiskey on the rocks. I'm at sea level so I think I can drink like a champ. Hmmm. After about three of these and I-don't-remember-how-many shots, I switched back to beer. Damn, I'm bright. At some point in the evening I realize that we're in a bar that used to be my favorite bar in the whole world. It was called Tangerine then. They had Go Go dancers on the bar and let you climb on it and had hand shaped chairs so your butt got held. They had trucker night where you got your drinks in mugs. They ha...
6 comments
Read more

Dear Book Pimp

So I wrote this book and I think it's pretty decent. That's the feedback I'm getting anyway, which is bitchin' really since I have a degree in Education, NOT writing. Plus, this is my first try, so really I should be happy, right? But, turns out writing the book is maybe the easy part. The publishing is another story. You have to find a Literary Agent. To do this, you have to write a 1-3 page letter to many literary agents to convince them to read a sample chapter. Send it with a Self addressed stamped envelope (SASE) and wait. there's more but I'm already experiencing a high level anxiety just writing about this part. In my letter, I'm supposed to explain who I am, what my book's about, why I'm qualified to write it, why its sicky illy good, who'll read it, and on and on. AHHHHHhhhhh! This shit scares me. Also, I'm supposed to be witty, clever, literary, and junk. Oh and explain a 300 page book in a sales pitch. I'm not a frea...
10 comments
Read more

Past tense

I work with this really kickass lawyer. She's been all crazy over this guy lately. He worked for probation. Past tense. Did you see it? Over the weekend he killed himself. Enter past tense, the unwelcome jerk. And I feel soooo terrible. And guilty. Because I tried it to. I talked about it a little in this post . Try #17 and on. That's where I talk about it. A little. And now when someone kills themselves, I feel guilty. Like what I did when I was 17 somehow makes me responsible for everyone who ever does it. Like because I tried it, I should know how to fix it. But there are tons of recovering drug addicts that can't tell you how to get sober. There are great thinkers that can't explain their ideas. And the fact is, no one can explain suicide.
6 comments
Read more