Poor Girl.
Posted by todd Fri, 18 May 2007 20:38:00 GMT
There are several reasons for my lack of stories lately. First off, I travel too much and work for a startup company; which basically gives me the attention span of a ferret on speed.
I also have had a girlfriend for an extended amount of time. (The length of 5 girlfriends if you go back a few years, seriously.)
Now, this is a good thing(tm). It's nice having someone around, and it gives me a reason to come home instead of going out every night(ok, this is good and bad). Plus, she's really hot!(you know your girlfriend is hot when she gets hit on by women as often as men.) All that being said, long term girlfriends, especially ones who pretty much live with you..... have challenges(probably for her more than me).
Think about what this poor girl is dealing with.
At home, my skills have remained roughly constant throughout my life, this is not to her advantage....
1. I don't cook often(sammiches count). I certainly don't cook well.
2. Left alone, my refrigerator will contain beer, pizza, and ketchup within two weeks. Pizza is considered fresh until the cheese won't melt in the microwave anymore. Throwing it out earlier than that will cause me to miss breakfast.
3. I can fix anything in a house, but I can not fix it "properly".
4. I take things apart. Sometimes, I put them mostly back together.
5. I can build nearly anything FOR a house, but I shouldn't. (walls for example).
Ooh, building things. Sorry, I need to stop my list for a moment.
It's always intrigued to me how loosely defined things are in the construction world. In "real" construction this means that if things don't quite fit, you cut off a piece and make it fit. Building things is like doing a jig-saw puzzle, using scissors.
In "guy" construction, this holds true, but the implementation is different. For example:
1. This means that if it's made of drywall and points roughly vertically; it's a fucking wall. (Bonus points if the couch isn't holding it up.)
2. If my drink doesn't slide off of it when I set it down; it's a table.
3. If...say... I were to lose one of the legs of my bed while moving, calculus books are a viable substitute. (Note: Occasionally the books slip, causing the bed to cease being a table, as defined in #2)
My family owned a construction company for many years, and to this day there is a different name for "guy construction" at home. It's called, "Joe'ed".
Back in the day, Joe was the "mechanic" for the construction company. Machines broke, Joe "fixed" them.
Joe's gas tank was broken in his car. He (not kidding) "fixed" that by running a tube from the gas can sitting back seat, to the engine. (It was possibly the "back back" seat if I remember correctly. I was young.)
Joe also smoked in his car.
I don't know what ever happened to the guy(critical burns?), but to this day Whenever something is broken in the apartment, I channel Joe.
Now, I've just outlined the basic genres of my domestic inadequacy. I'll leave it to the reader to imagine the rest. Beyond the in-house difficulties life with me, I'm also obsessive enough about building companies that I often forget to eat.
The poor girl has her work cut out for her.
Now that I've properly demonstrated what "ferret on speed" means, I'll return you to your regularly scheduled programming. I'm landing in Portland, OR.
-T
