Luke thinks I am secretly and intentionally breaking all of our glasses. He said that he thinks I stay up late at night with a ball-peen hammer tapping the glasses–whatever that means–so that when he picks them up in the morning, they crack. Now wherever did he get this strange idea…
Perhaps he got it because I am secretly trying to break all of our glasses. Not with some stupid hammer, though.
I hate every last one of them. So when I do the dishes, I intentionally try to break them by being too rough with them and then pretend it was an accident (a practice that ends with this blog post, I suppose). Another method I’ve employed is to place them in precarious positions in the sink overnight where if even a single fork is moved, they’ll all come crashing down. That way, there’s a chance it is his fault. But he’s totally on to me about that one.
These are glasses I’ve had since my Charlton Street apartment in 1996. I think I got them at a stoop sale in the West Village but they could easily be glasses that my mother hated and instead of throwing out, she forced them on me. I’ve hated them forever, but I just don’t have it in me to chuck them. So I am trying to let nature run its course…while actively trying to help nature along.
Besides, I think trying to drive Luke a little crazy is fun. He does it to me! I think he’s trying it by playing the same Courtney Love song over and over and over again (he says it is called “Pacific Coast Highway” and I think it is called “That crappy song you play all the time”) It’s been months of this song, so it isn’t like he doesn’t have his own “drive-seth-crazy” things.
I’ve decided the key to a happy home is equilibrium in the Driving-me-crazy department. There must be balance. And you have to be able to laugh about it. And if I’m trying to break all the dishes and also secretly trying to organize your night table you should just let it go.
In other Luke news: I recently had to remind him that for the 2 years we dated in Thailand, he was known for these wonderful cherry pies – which were really hard to come by where we lived – and I just assumed that the guy I was signing up for was a serious pie-maker (which really sweetened the deal ha ha). Lo and behold, here we are in Washington DC and I’ve had no pies for months. Not a single one. Especially right now, cause I really want a pie and I keep dropping hints like “boy, a pie sure would be wonderful right now” or “Luke, please make a pie.”
SO what else can I tell you… It was a pretty run of the mill week here in the nation’s capital. I got a new air conditioner courtesy of my landlord and due to the fact that the handle on the old on came off. Luke and I went to this great bar called Science Club on Thursday and had veggie quesadillas and French fries. That was pretty exciting. I started reading Ian McEwan’s On Chesil Beach and I’m finding it hard to concentrate on a novel after a year of only reading magazines. What’s happened to me? I can’t read a book anymore? I used to polish off a novel in a few days not think twice about it. I think I have readers block.
But I still read 7 magazines a week. I read this great article in New York magazine about the presidential candidate’s inner lives versus their outer lives. The presidents with the inner and outer lives that were closest, meaning they’re the same in private as they are at a convention, like Clinton and Reagan, were the most popular. The ones where there was the most discrepancy, like with Dole or Dukakis, floundered I thought it was good, so here is my first “read this” link in my bog. You can find that article here. It’s long, but not as long as a book.
So that is my week. I’m helping my friend Emily and her husband Jay move this weekend. And by “help” I mean “not really help.” More like, I’m waiting in their apartment to let the movers in, as per Emily’s request. Well played Emily. I wish everyone who asks me to help them move would ask me to simply wait in an apartment and let movers in. I could be very very helpful in this role. If anyone out there wants me to help them move in this manner, feel free to call me. If you want help in the other way – the way where there are boxes to be carried and stairs and beds and all that, I should just let you know that I’m not too good with dishes.