What's with the puke yellow jerseys? Who's bright idea was that? Who the hell are the Winnipeg Falcons? I like how everybody's name is Canada though; shows real team spirit — Canada scores! And they just ripped out a couple rows of seats — they could easily change the NHL standard rink size!
It'll be Chinese takeout and more hockey tonight.
Remember when Fred buys the piano for Wilma? Sing it with me.
Happy anniversary,
Happy anniversary,
Happy anniversary,
HAAAppy anniversary.
Happy happy happy happy hAppY AnnivErsary,
Happy happy happy happy happy anniversaryyy!
Eight years ago today, J-F and I had our first date. Only I wasn't sure it was a real date when I set out to meet him. But about 5 hours (and 8 beers) into the encounter I realized I was having a really good time and it could indeed be construed as a date; so we stayed another 5 hours and embarked on a lifetime.
Since we never actually bothered to get married, this is the day we celebrate. (Honestly, you can't tell me that after 7 years and 10 months of living with someone and raising a baby with him, an official marriage ceremony would make one iota of difference.)
The biggest problem is the labelling issue: neither boyfriend nor husband is exactly right, partner is wrong, significant other is too long (and s.o. is just stupid). With casual acquaintances I've referred to my husband or my boyfriend, but I have trouble keeping it consistent. I've looked back on conversations and thought, gee, I hope she doesn't think I have one of each.
The first anniversary of this blog is also fast approaching, though in my mind a bigger milestone was recently passed: 100,000 words. Granted, only a small fraction of those words are not quoted from other sources, but it gives me pause: Maybe there's something to this writing stuff. Maybe I could do that (write) after all. If I wanted to.
Mind you, I just finished writing a sample article for a job application, and the process was gruelling. Without the right motivation, it's hard.
Although, the other week I stumbled across this phrase in a text I'm editing, and I can't get it out of my head: the huntingtin site on chromosome 4. Does that not sound like a space opera crying out to be written? Only more like, say, "Meiosis" by Calvino.
The Infinite Cat Project (as distinct from the Infinitely Stupid Cat Project being conducted in my household).
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2 comments:
Well, I went the "living together" route and, I have to say, the marriage certificate does make a difference.
In what way, I wonder?
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