one of our heads is destined for tinfoil

Last Friday I threw a dinner party at our house. I do this every solar eclipse or so, and each time I’m reminded of why I shouldn’t do it again. And then time passes and I forget and the whole vicious cycle repeats itself. Not to get into all the reasons why the evening was Fail (I’m a nervous and anxious person by nature and I worry so much that people aren’t having a good time that I torpedo the whole evening), but here goes: I don’t understand my heterosexual women friends on a fundamental level. Sure, write fanfic about them, pay them to cut your lawn, whatever, but men seem like a lot of work for not a lot of return. Or as the Hobgoblins MSTing line goes– “If you just let go they’ll fall over.”

And then to top it off I got some poison ivy on myself that night and rubbed it all over Vali, who always suffers more than I do with the urushiol than I do. In spite of all this she hasn’t asked for a divorce. Last night I made her favorite snack (spicy sweet potato and spinach knish) in an attempt at making amends.

A long while back violetisblue asked me Five Questions.

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