The poor, poor man meme

Dooce started it. Well, she claims it started on Facebook but I haven’t seen it there. Or at least, I haven’t been tagged 713 times like on the 25 Things About Me meme. So, I’m blaming Dooce. If you’re pissed about it, talk to her. This one is about Sam and me.

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What are your middle names?
Mine is Greer. Sam doesn’t have one. That’s right: Doesn’t. Have one. It’s the crack in his façade.

How long have you been together?
Married seven. Together eleven. We’re just a franchise convenience store.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?

Six months from the day we met. It’s a long dramatic story that involved me drunkenly drooling on his pillow long before that first date. One word: Shexay.

Who asked whom out?

He did some speculating, but I had a “boyfriend.” I reciprocated once the “boyfriend” was relieved of his post.

How old are each of you?

We’re both 38 but he’ll be 40 before me.

Whose siblings do you see the most?

Siblings? Do we have siblings?

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
The fact that I never think he’s having a good time when we go out. This causes me to ask him repeatedly if he’s having a good time? Are you having a good time? Is everything okay? Are you having fun? Did you have fun? Did you have a nice time? and so on until he’s all, “Woman! I had a fantastic fucking time what the hell do you want from me?!?” 11 years and you’d think I’d get past it.

Did you go to the same school?
Nope. He graduated from University of Wisconsin, Madison in four-and-a-half years without one single loan. I, on the other hand, graduated from the illustrious San Diego State University with more credits than most post-docs and more loans than…look, I don’t want to talk about it.

Are you from the same home town?
Sam’s from the Land of Cheese. I’m from the Land of Funny Underwear.

Who is smarter?
This is a lame question because the answer could knock the are-you-having-a-good-time-at the-party inquisition out of the top spot on the Biggest Marital Issue list. Of course he’s smarter.

Who is the most sensitive?
He’s even. I’m crazier than a shit-house rat.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
We don’t have a most often. S’how we keep it fresh. We also don’t have a “my side” or “your side” of the bed. And sometimes, if we’re feeling reeeally frisky, we’ll put our heads where our feet go.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?

Florence, Italy. Oh, and to the moon. Couple-a times.

Who has the craziest exes?
Oh, Sam takes this one. Definitely. I got the family-crazy all locked up, so it’s only fair if he takes the lead in the loony ex department.

Who has the worst temper?

One of the many indicators that Sam is unbearably dysfunctional is his complete lack of a temper. Therefore, even my teensy, tiny, adorable outbursts look bad in comparison.

Who does the cooking?
I make a super-fly Chicken Pot Pie (let’s have that cook-off, Rachel!) and a deadly chocolate chip cookie. Otherwise, I’m a self-detonating bag of flour. A massive disaster in the kitchen.

Who is the neat-freak?
Sam just loves little boxes and tins and containers. Hidden compartments make him giddy. He organized all of my jewelry for me this past weekend and he begs me not to throw my gym-socks into the hamper inside-out. Need I say more?

Who is more stubborn?
I am not more stubborn. I am not, am not, am not! And that’s final.

Who hogs the bed?
I hog blankets once in a while but as far as the bed goes, we’re respectful of each other’s sleeping space. (Yay! A question that redeems some of my asshole-ish ways.)

Who wakes up earlier?
5:00 AM everyday, baby! (That would be Sam’s wake-up time.)

Where was your first date?
Kate Sessions Park in Pacific Beach. A moonlight walk with the dog. He stood on a park bench to kiss me.

Who is more jealous?
Not me. I’ve given my explicit permission for him to take a concubine. The only caveat is that she wash some dishes and babysit.

How long did it take to get serious?
One year and six months.

Who eats more?
Depends on what’s being served.

Who does the laundry?

Jesus! Who made up these questions? So what if I can’t cook or if I’m not as tidy or if I lose my temper sometimes or if I’ve been prohibited from going near the laundry due to my habit of washing pens and lip gloss? It doesn’t mean I’m not a worthy partner with attributes of my own. It simply means my husband is an enabler.

Who’s better with the computer?
That depends on the perspective. If you want a thoughtful, inquisitive, figure-out-the-inner-workings solution to the problem, Sam’s your man. But if you like something immediate that sounds an awful lot like fists pounding on a keyboard, I’m available in the evenings after 8:00 PM.

Who drives when you are together?
Mostly Sam. I like to be chauffeured so I don’t have to think about traffic can backseat drive. Also, he’s able to take my constant sighing when he misses his exits.

First Dyptych After A Chaotic Weekend

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