Usus

This meme is going around, and because it is Monday (yes? wait...where am I and who are all you people?), that's what I'm going to do. This is probably going to be embarrassingly stupid considering there are Things About Which We Have Promised (Other People) Not to Blog, so if I hem and haw and stutter and then provide an answer in the style of Sarah Palin, that's why.

What are your middle names?
Mine is Kay (same as my mom's; I like it) and his is the name he goes by in real life, so, for our purposes, let's say it's Simon. (I love how this is supposed to be a get-to-know-us-better exercise and already I'm providing fake answers to protect our privacy. I am totally failing a meme.)

How long have you been together?
Yes! Okay! What a great question! Thank you for asking! Let's do this thing! *claps hands* Simon and I met at a birthday dinner for a friend in March of 2002, but I don't remember meeting him until that same friend's birthday party a year later. A year after that we started getting to know each other better, and *mumble mumble drama mumble* we started spending real, consistent quality time together at the end of 2005. NEXT QUESTION.

Who asked whom out?
I SAID NEXT QUESTION.

Whose siblings do you see the most?
Both of our siblings live in far-off lands (Simon's sister in England; my brother in my parents' basement), so we really only see them for weddings and funerals. Seriously, though, we see my brother whenever we go to Salt Lake, which is about once or twice a year, and for the last few years we've been lucky to see Simon's sister about as often.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
If we're talking about a current "situation," it's been a challenge to spend as much quality time together now that there's a baby around. When Simon gets home from work, I usually hold out the child and say, "Here," following which I flee to my freshly drawn bubblebath and pint of whiskey, except instead of a bubblebath it's more likely to be a washing machine and instead of whiskey it's water because the boy will probably need to eat in five minutes anyway. I'm lucky that Simon has an incredibly flexible work schedule and that he's always willing to help around the house/with the baby, but it sucks that I seem to have contracted a disease that makes me feel like whichever one of us isn't entertaining the spawn has to be busy scrubbing floors or spit-shining windows. It used to be okay for us to both come home from work and flop around in front of the t.v., but now I'm all MUST DUST TCHOTCHKES, which really isn't like me at all. I would probably be happier if I could just get over this, but now that I've been out of work for three months, I know that it's way harder to put up with a chaotic house when you don't just come home to it at night but LIVE in it and LOOK at it all day long. In a perfect world, I would either (a) accept the sty and live happily in it forever after or (b) hire a maid.

Did you go to the same school?
He got his degree in psychology from UC Berkeley (and then took pre-med courses at San Francisco State), and I graduated from the University of Utah (go Utes!) in English. I really should have applied to other schools just to see where I'd get accepted, but Harvard had like an $80 application fee and I already had a full scholarship to the U of U so I couldn't justify the cost merely to satisfy my ego. Ten years later, though, my ego wishes I'd sucked it up and applied anyway, just to see. Oh well.

Are you from the same home town?
Simon was born and raised in East Lansing, Michigan, until he was seven, at which point his family moved to Orange County (and took him along, of course, because he was so dang cute). I was born and raised in a suburb of Salt Lake City and brought home from the hospital to the house I lived in until I was twenty-two and moved to Berkeley with The Ex. My parents still live in that house, and the fact that they're seriously considering moving in the next few months freaks me out completely.

Who is smarter?
Although we know a lot of the same things (Jeopardy is a good contest), each of us is smarter in a different way. Simon's good at talking off the cuff and remembering lines from movies and playing by ear. I'm good at following rules, playing by the book, and planning ahead (aka, worrying about nonsense). Overall, we're well matched intellectually, and his smarts were one of the things that drew me to him in the first place. (This reminds me of a certain webcast...)

Who is the most sensitive?
I wouldn't call either of us sensitive in the cries-easily/gets-feelings-hurt way, but there are definitely situations that make us each touchy: Simon can't stand letting people down (sometimes he's a people-pleaser to his own detriment), and I'm sometimes detrimentally sentimental, although I don't always express it in the moment. (A lot of that emotion finds its way to the blog, actually.) Also, we're both pretty needy when it comes to being in a relationship--we both need A LOT of attention--so it's fortunate that we're equally clingy to each other. We're both sensitive in the romantic, nostalgic, touchy-feely way but not so much in the best-walk-on-eggshells way. Even more amazing, I don't think my hormones got the memo about going hogwild during the whole pregnancy thing, which is awesome for everyone all around.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
The Burrito Shop. When I was pregnant I asked about the possibility of having a pneumatic tube installed between our house and their kitchen. I mean, come on, they're the perfect shape!

Where is the farthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
We've been to England twice, one for his sister's wedding in August 2006 and then again to meet her baby in November of 2007. We travel really well together, and Simon has essentially cured me of my plane phobia.

Who has the craziest exes?
I suspect that the spirit of this question is to ferret out the psychos lurking in our pasts, but neither of us really has anyone like that, so if I may I'd like to redefine "crazy" here and say that when Simon was in Rocky Horror, his girlfriend at the time first met his parents backstage while wearing nothing on top but pasties. That moment seems to define her personality as I understand it, and where I come from we call that "crazy."

Who has the worst temper?
Neither one of us has even the tiniest bit of a temper. Simon never gets mad at anyone ever (although he came close once), and when I get upset about something, I'm more likely to let it fester under the surface for a few days before letting it seep out slowly, like red hot magma blanketing the land and devastating everything in its path. That said, Simon is pretty fed up with the cat (the good one!) right now because she scratches to be let upstairs a mojillion times at night, and in recent days I've heard him threaten to stomp her if she keeps it up.

Who does the cooking?
Praise Jeebus, Simon does the cooking. I can cook, but I'm not very good at it and besides, I don't really like it. I microwave. I am good at microwaving. On the bafflingly frequent occasions that I get ambitious and try to do more, something stupid always goes wrong, like I'll use a tablespoon when I should have used a teaspoon, or I'll remember to halve everything in the recipe except for the eggs, or I'll put water on to boil and then forget about it until I smell the chemical burn of a melted pot. Simon cooks because he's good at it, because he's not breastfeeding the hungry hungry hippo, and because it means he gets to putter around the kitchen in a chef's hat and apron. If not for Simon, I'd be digging a pneumatic tube right now.

Who is the neat-freak?
We're both pretty sloppy by nature, but more now than ever I have moments of OH MY GOD WE HAVE TO ORGANIZE THE HOUSE RIGHT NOW. It's not that I'm a neat-freak but just a freak, period. I imagine this is frustrating for poor Simon, as one day I'm leaving bowls of old cereal milk on every flat surface and just stepping over the cat barf and the next day I get on his case for daring to take off his shoes in the living room and not immediately return them to the closet where they belong. That said, if I didn't instigate cleaning the house, it probably wouldn't get done.

Who is more stubborn?
That would be me. In the simplest terms, Simon is a pushover and I am a brat.

Who hogs the bed?
Ooh! Ooh! I know this one! The BABY hogs the bed. Due to the mechanics of breastfeeding while dead alseep, I'm either balanced on my side on the edge of the mattress or smashed up with Simon on the other third of the bed while Wombat luxuriates in the middle. The cats also seem to prefer sleeping on my person, which is JUST DUCKY. Thank god we upgraded from a double to a queen last year.

Who wakes up earlier?
The BABY wakes up earlier. Than anyone in the whole state. He wakes up every morning at--get this--SEVEN A.M. Can you believe that insanity? Seven! In the morning! Sure, he's content to play quietly for another three or four hours or so until we're ready to get up, but still, the inhumanity of a seven o'clock wakening is almost unbearable, even considering he goes to bed at around 8 p.m. We're working on this.

(I'm joking there. I know that a two-month-old baby who sleeps from 8 p.m. to 7 a.m. is like having a chocolate-covered rainbow unicorn stabled in your backyard, but for some reason we still have a hard time waking up at an hour that most people would consider normal. We go to bed at around midnight every night, but left to our own devices we'd sleep until noon each day with no problem. I'm just glad we're well-matched in this aspect because for a few months while I was pregnant, I couldn't help getting up early every day (8 a.m.!) and it drove me batty that Simon could just sleep all peaceful and oblivious like that when there were SO MANY things to be done and CLEANED before the BABY arrives OMG, and maybe that's why I took to emptying the dishwasher rather loudly first thing in the morning for a while.)

Where was your first date?
Complicated, but we have adopted as our first date an evening of takeout sushi (my first ever) while watching one of our favorite movies in a theater.

Who is more jealous?
Jealousy is neither a faction nor an option.

How long did it take to get serious?
Again, complicated, but I had a serious crush on him almost instantly.

Who eats more?
My initial urge is to say Simon, as he can demolish a giant burrito in one sitting, get his money's worth of any buffet, and finish anything on anyone's plate, whereas I have a stomach the size of an egg and, to be honest, don't really like eating. I wonder, though, if I end up putting away more than him over the course of the day what with my endless, constant snacking. It's a toss-up.

Who does the laundry?
I do the laundry because (a) Simon won't freak out if I ruin something of his (like that sweater I shrunk yesterday) whereas I will freak out if he ruins something of mine. Also, (b) I LIKE doing laundry. I like sorting it, I like soaping it, I like folding it. Can I come over and do your laundry?

Who's better with the computer?
I might have to say me on this one. I've used both Macs and PCs for years, and I have more experience with a greater variety of programs than he does. My brother is very proud of me right now.

Who drives when you are together?
He does, poor thing. When I got pregnant he was so excited that he'd finally have a permanent designated driver, but because I was a giant pregnant pain in the ass, I still made him stay sober so he could drive my giant pregnant ass home after a party. I'm a competent driver and even, dare I say, a good one, but there's something about having a passenger in tow that turns me into one of "those people." I get all flustered and lost and stupid and then proud and defensive ("I meant to go the wrong way on the one-way street!"), so it's just better for everyone if Simon takes the wheel. It's because of this phenomenon that I've only taken the baby out once by myself (last Thursday), but I think the curse has been lifted (or at least doesn't apply to pint-sized passengers) because I'm happy to report that I made it to the pediatrician's office and back without getting the least bit lost or driving over a curb or a pedestrian.

Well, that was fun! Sort of? Wasn't it? Shut up, it's Monday (I think) and I'm operating on a scant nine hours of sleep.

wrote Leah at 6:37 AM | Comments (15)