tuckova

i’m nice! gosh i’m nice. perhaps you haven’t noticed how nice i am, so
let me tell you. no, wait: first i’ll tell you, and then i want you to
repeat it back to me, just so i know we’re on the same page. ready?
NICE. we will also accept sweet. kind. helpful. pleasant. agreeable. no? can i get an
adequate? hello? is this thing on?

gar. it’s unbearable with me lately. i am not to be borne. i cannot do
the laundry without pointing out that i am doing the laundry. cannot
cook a meal without pointing out that i cooked it. dishes, you don’t
even want to know. if i god forbid should do something that i think
someone else might not notice, fix something that nobody other than me
knew was broken, clean something that nobody other than me knew was
dirty, find something that nobody else knew was lost? nobody needs to worry about
missing a thing. steven tyler would be so grateful. see how i washed
your socks?
and folded them into tidy little snails? and then organized your sock
drawer by sock length and color? aren’t i wonderful? simply marvelous?
nice?

blech. fortunately i am blessed to live with a boy who enthusiastically
plays along (yes! i did see how you cooked that meal using three whole
pots! hey, did you like how i noticed? wasn’t that nice of me to
notice!) and a man who absolutely
doesn’t (oh, anne. oh my.). luckily we all know that we’re on
anne’s crazy train, that this is a transition and not a destination,
and i am confident that we will presently be disembarking at a much
more
pleasant station; one in which i will again simply function instead of
pointing
out that i do.

i went to the hospital yesterday. i had to make an appointment for a
Procedure and the telephonary was just too overwhelming to face, so i
grabbed a book and went in person. three hours, my friends, just me and
mr.
obama and terribly hardbacked plastic benches (and some people who made
me look the picture of health, which is always a blast). the doctor was
devastatingly cute and laughed at my jokes, and i instantly fell in
love which is always a good thing when you’re about to take your
clothes off.

about the book i’m reading (dreams from my father): i really like
barack obama. i have no idea what i think of him as presidential
material but i am all weak in the knees for anybody who can write a
grammatical, powerful sentence. he’s no jefferson but he is maybe,
like, sam seaborn. the book is interesting to me in terms of my current
preoccupation with the degree to which we are defined by our culture,
and his approach to it is an interesting combination of wide-eyed and
even-handed that i’m ready to hear.

pretty much that’s it, i think. there’s a parent/teacher meeting to
which i am not remotely looking forward, but i didn’t eat uncooked
chicken in the hopes i would get salmonella, so in a way we’re making
process. i may even be nice, although i don’t think my capabilities stretch quite that far.