Saturday, January 7, 2012
Perchance Soul Mates
Today I woke up feeling pretty good. That glimmer of flu I experienced yesterday sent me to bed expecting to wake with the full blown version of Typhoid Mary (aka the Squeeze) symptoms. Instead, I was bright eyed and bushy tailed; even the Squeeze seemed better than he had the last few days; so we went out for breakfast.
Yes, I remember we are on diets however, we are having weekends off and I made sure we went to the place doesn’t load your plate up with 24 rashers of bacon; and let’s face it, 24 rashers would be a dream come true if they could manage the “crisp” instruction that I give them each time, but they never do.
After breakfast, we rushed out to a relatively new Ikea that we hadn’t made it to as yet. It rivals the size of the MCG and I’ve never seen so much ‘flat packed’ bits of crap in my life! We didn’t last long. It was so huge that I felt like a waif (minus the thin bit); trapped in a nineteenth century English garden maze. They had these weird lights that displayed arrows on the concrete floor and to ensure you notice them, they jiggled slightly which was giving me vertigo. Frankly, I felt like any minute I’d start hyperventilating, then muttering to myself loudly as I ran around attempting to find an exit.
We left, only pausing to pay $2.47 for obsolete Christmas decorations. Finally free of the maze, we rushed to an open house. It doesn’t matter what house we go to see, the Squeeze always asks if they have a “section 32”. I don’t even know what a section 32 is; I doubt he does. He just thinks it makes him sound like a real estate mogul.
From house one that had an obvious slump to the back left and a weird bathroom which was in the back of enclosed porch, we went to see another place that was cute and in the right price range. Problem was it had an attic; and the attic had one of those weird doors you open with a pole with sliding stairs. This would be fine except it opened into the master bedroom. Yeah, I can see me sleeping there. I write horror for Christ’s sake. I mentioned to the Squeeze when he was opening it, “careful, there is bound to be a creepy clown up there…” It is the type of thing directly out of a horror movie and didn’t matter how much I liked the place, I’d never be able to sleep in that damned room.
While rushing from place to place the Squeeze put his ipod on in the car and an old John Lennon song started which the Squeeze, proving his musical intellect, sang the first line. Naturally, I sang the second. Strangely, this impressed him. I’ve no idea why. As I said to him, who on the planet Earth doesn’t know nearly every word of every song that John Lennon wrote?
This may be true however he continued to look at me with awe before saying: “you know, you may actually turn out to be my soul mate…”
This he believes, however misguided, is the most romantic thing he has ever said to me.
When I think on it, it is far better than a few months in when I asked if he thought you have only one soul mate or several, he answered that he believed you only get one and that his was back in his twenties; some woman he went out with that is now affectionately known as the “house frou”. After that little comment I sat and wondered why I was going out with this emotionally inept fool.
Posted by Mistress at 3:46 PM