Acorn squash stuffed with walnuts, brie, butter and brown sugar for dinner tonight, with rice and fava beans. Jason and I are in Brooklyn, having escaped the wrath of Aardvark in Astoria. There was another confrontation this morning, probably the last. And I claim responsibility for it: if I hadn't been so upset with Aardvark all Saturday night and Sunday morning, Jason wouldn't have been so upset, and he probably wouldn't have said anything to A. But I'm beginning to understand Dan's need to get away, out of the city, out of the country even. Being in such close proximity with Aardvark is a constant reminder of how much of an ass he's been to all of us these past ten months. We are such fucking tolerant and understanding people, letting him get away with everything he's said and done.
These offenses include:
Calling me a "ho" during fall registration (in front of Marion, the Assistant Registrar, and all the students registering for classes), and then repeatedly saying that I "stole his best friend from him."
Saying that Jason will probably end up a drug-addict, drunk, or burn-out, because (supposedly) these are the only people he knows and grew up with.
Ad naseum comments about being "a professional," having a "real" job that makes it impossible for him to do any household chores, and snide remarks about a "two year siesta" that apparently everyone but he has taken.
Repeatedly trying to convince Jason to break up with him. Complaining about our relationship to anyone who would listen.
This list could go on and on and on. I guess I'm saying that every other sentence out of his mouth is offensive in some way to someone.
The Brooklyn apartment is peaceful, though. The smell of squash baking in the office, three semi-well-behaved cats, and my new knitting project (four-needle arm warmers, which I plan to attach to a short-sleeved t-shirt). Mastering double-pointed needles means I can go on to mittens and socks -- yay!
These offenses include:
Calling me a "ho" during fall registration (in front of Marion, the Assistant Registrar, and all the students registering for classes), and then repeatedly saying that I "stole his best friend from him."
Saying that Jason will probably end up a drug-addict, drunk, or burn-out, because (supposedly) these are the only people he knows and grew up with.
Ad naseum comments about being "a professional," having a "real" job that makes it impossible for him to do any household chores, and snide remarks about a "two year siesta" that apparently everyone but he has taken.
Repeatedly trying to convince Jason to break up with him. Complaining about our relationship to anyone who would listen.
This list could go on and on and on. I guess I'm saying that every other sentence out of his mouth is offensive in some way to someone.
The Brooklyn apartment is peaceful, though. The smell of squash baking in the office, three semi-well-behaved cats, and my new knitting project (four-needle arm warmers, which I plan to attach to a short-sleeved t-shirt). Mastering double-pointed needles means I can go on to mittens and socks -- yay!
posted by Empress Girl @ 6:09 PM
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