Bangkok and Boats

I was on the plane to Bangkok with Matt. The plane was more like a bus, and we were sitting at the very front with huge windows so we could see all the scenery. We took off from San Francisco and shot straight into the air to avoid getting stuck in the clouds. The views were incredible: deep blue oceans, huge mossy rock formations, beautiful golden temples... I tried to take as many pictures as I could with my phone. I later was upset with myself for not taking videos instead, as the footage could have made a really cool short film. We had paid more to ride Singapore Airlines, and I was quite pleased we had.

We got to the hotel and we had to act fact to get a private room. All the other rooms were filled with a patchwork of beds meant for multiple people, but our room just had one. I opened the safe to find a fold-down, metal toilet and a tiny metal cubby hole meant for showering. I wasn't too jazzed about it but I figured I could make do.

*****

I was going to a presentation with my coworkers about a new ocean liner with a shatter-proof front cabin. One of our conference rooms at work had been all decked out, and I congratulated my Operations coworker on his festive and alive lighting scheme. There was a cake there in the shape of a ship. I could see the real thing from the window and thought it looked nice-- unsinkable, in fact-- but before I got too excited about it I reminded myself that that's what they said about the Titanic too, and we all know how that worked out. Plus cruise ships are not doing so well right now.

Imminent attack

There's an army advancing on my house in Duluth. I see them from the window in my parents' room and rush to hide. My first thought is to try the closets, but I later decide that they're too obvious a choice and decide to go to the attic, which is accessed from a door in my little brother's room, instead. I'm shocked by how large it is; it's much larger than I remember it being. I set to work slicing an old mattress in half and carving out a body-shaped hole in the foam, as well as some breathing  holes. I've just climbed in when I realize that the soldiers will probably slash through the mattress with their machetes, since they always do that.

On learning to compromise

I was having lunch with Anna, telling her about my Woes of the Week.

"He wants a sectional," I said. "A big, fatty, leather sectional. It will totally overwhelm the space. And I stick to leather in the summer. If there's one thing I know, it's that I didn't buy a house just to stick to the gigantic leather couch in the summer."

This wasn't the only design disagreement we'd been having. I pinned long and hard to come up with a color scheme I was totally in love with for what I'm calling Salon Neenuh. It involves light blue-green walls, neutral fabric furniture and blue and coral accents. He would prefer dark colors, like gray and brown and navy.

This really shouldn't surprise me any more, after nearly six years of being together. I first learned of our taste gulf when we were registering for wedding presents, and I was head over heels for a teal china pattern with BIRDS on it, and he wanted white with a single silver circle. I wanted the bold apple green mixer and he was adamant that we stick to the classic red or white. I wanted bright-bright-bright linens and he wanted brown. I married a monster.

And, I told Anna, he's desperate for a dog. I ticked off the reasons I don't want one:

• The vet bills. Dogs inevitably get ring worm and then cancer and then you have to pay for dog chemo and we just bought a house and how could we possibly afford that.
• The poop. Once you buy a dog you are then responsible for every piece of poop that comes out of its body.
• The shedding. I just spent an entire evening vacuum up the little white hairs the previous owners' best friend left EVERYWHERE-- like, they were even in the bathtub. 
• The noise. What if Pup decides my brother smells weird and it yaps its head off every time he comes over? Sam is related by blood (at least that's what we've been told); I can't just ban him from our house.
• The jealousy. What if we have a baby and then the dog gets jealous because we're not giving it enough attention and then it climbs into baby's crib and sits on baby's face AND KILLS OUR BABY?
• The poop. What if it's a fraidy-dog and I drop something because dropsy and it makes a loud noise and then the dog poops itself on our huge leather sectional?

Anna patiently refuted all my points and told me that I would love being a pet mama and that it would be great practice for being a real mama and that she would be our dog-sitter forever and always amen. And then she had a stroke of genius. I care about the furniture. Matt cares about the dog. I should use dog ownership as a bargaining chip to get him to cede decision-making capabilities.

Reader, that's what I did. And it totally worked. I look forward to inviting you to our humble abode this summer, where the yard will be poop-filled and the couches will be stick-free.