mrs-roboto's Diaryland
Diary
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Wrestling With My Inner Demons
I was basically raised as an only child. I have one sister who was born when I was already
a teenager. We never had to live in the same bedroom. She had no interest
in my clothes nor did I have any interest in her toys (except for the time
I took her Teddy
Ruxpin to the park and made it play JFA
tapes for all the other skate punks). My parents made sure there were at least
two of everything in their home so that there would be no fights over who
was watching the TV, using the phone, toasting bread, etc. As you can imagine,
it was a charmed life and one in which I never had to learn the art of sharing.
Later I moved away to college and got my first roommate,
a girl from the country who had many siblings. Within ten minutes of our first
meeting this roommate began looking through my CD's and trying on my clothes.
It took every ounce of self-control for me not to rip her eyes out. There
have been many roommates, partners, and friends since who have overstepped
my vast personal boundaries. My initial reaction to this type of trespassing
is to let it go and try to rationalize with myself but eventually it builds
up within me and I let loose on the visitor who has used my shampoo without
asking or the coworker who borrows a pen and then leaves it on my desk instead
of putting it back in the pen cup that is sitting on my desk for the express
purpose of holding my pens(a place for everything and everything in it's place
goddamnit!). I remember going out to coffee with my friend Jessie a few weeks
after Pete
and I were first living together and telling her that I didn't think that
this relationship was going to work out.
"What makes you say that," she asked.
"Well, last night we went out to dinner and I had finished with my meal and he felt
free to reach over and stick a fork in what I'd left behind and then he
ate it!"
"Were you planning to eat it?"
"Well, no but...."
"What's the problem then?"
Anyway, I'm
neurotic. So where was I going with this? Oh yeah, Pete has siblings and they
are all close in age and they all are used to this sharing concept. And I've
adjusted to it more and more and I get better everyday. Pete can eat anything
that's on my plate now and I don't even flinch but we had another struggle
pretty soon after the "Battle of the Not-Quite-Empty Plate." I'll
call this one the "Staking of the TV." We have just one television
and for the first six months of our life here in Seattle we lived in a small
one bedroom apartment thus if one person was watching TV, the other watched
by default. One of the programs Pete favored was the WWF Smackdown or whatever
it was called at the time.
For the life
of me I couldn't figure out why Pete enjoyed this crap. I would silently sulk
while he sat glued to the set laughing out loud and occasionally pointing
out some nuance or giving me additional historical information I might need
to truly understand why the Undertaker
hated the Boy
Genius so much (he was jealous of how intelligent he was, of course).
Every once in awhile I would spout out some rehearsed speech about the effect
of this kind of programming on the mind. Pete would argue back that my obsession
with the Real
World probably wasn't helping me spawn new brain cells either. Eventually,
I learned to live with televised wrestling and even accepted it as one Pete's
adorable quirks. So in honor of overcoming yet another aspect of my control-freak
personality, I am taking Pete to this
tonight:
Boy that was
along way to go to let you know about my weekend plans but Mexican
masked wrestling is just too damn cool to let go by without a mention.
1:50 p.m. - 2002-06-07
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