And see how nice a wife (yep, still weird) I am? I even allow him to respond!
1. Unlike most men, he does not know anything about sports. No really, he doesn’t know a thing. The only time I have ever watched sports with Pnut was during the World Cup in 2006 when he regularly asked me “why are they doing that?” and “what does that mean?” and “but why?”. And then I had to remind him that “I’m American, babe, I don’t have a fucking idea about “futbol”".
PNut: Well, it is not true that I don’t know anything about sports. I just don’t do “commercial” sports like football, basketball and so on. I don’t like the lack of ethics that most of these sports at professional level have. Years ago I fell in love with bicycle races, you know, Tour de France, Giro d’Italia kind of things? I really supported the teams and dreamed to go and see the competitions and eventually become a racer myself. Then, while I got into it, I saw how the system works and how many big guys got into doping, guys I was supporting and admiring as idols. I fell so sick and betrayed that I swore I’d never waste my time supporting “big guys” anymore. It might be a little excessive but…fuck no.
2. He hates to go to the bank. And the post office. And anywhere there might be some sort of beaurocratic annoyance. He will go so far as to keep letters (ones I have asked him to mail) in his work bag for weeks on end without telling me.
Well…that’s because it’s only me who does this think of things…if I had help from time to time I might eventually not hate this things that much. Hint, hint….
3. Whether or not your flight is international, you will need to be at that airport a minimum of three hours in advance. Because, you know, if you’re traveling any other way your anxiety level cannot reach + one hundred percent as quickly.
Well…two things: 1-I like airports and aviation in general. I don’t mind spending time watching people going by from and to exotic places and imagine what my next destination would be…then…yeah…I get slightly nervous when I have to catch a plane since I have been told missing one could be a big pain in the ass….
4. IRON MAIDEN BABY!!! EVIL HORNS!!! FLIGHT 666!!! … Um, yah, I have no explanation for this. Nope, none at all. As a matter of fact, I can listen to almost anything EXCEPT Iron Maiden. Baby. Oh… and he practically slept through the Iron and Wine concert I took him to last year. Also, the Ani Difranco concert was just “okay”.
UP THE IRONS!!!!! I have the greatest memory of myself, when I was 12, discovering music for the first time. It is thanks to Iron Maiden that I got into music in the first place and I followed them ever since. Of course my music tasted expanded a great deal but I am still attached to this band a lot. And then…how can you NOT fall in love with album art like the one here below?
6. He pretends not to speak German, even though he does.
Well..if asking for a beer or a room to sleep in is speaking German then you can call me Rilke.
7. He is afraid to climb inside. In the insulated security of the climbing gym, I can generally climb one or two levels above Pnut. But get us outside where the gear is sketchy and the rock is crumbly and I have to wear brown pants. And while Pnut talks a big game of modesty and fear, he will climb just about anything in the Dolomites.
Hrmph. Plastic is not natural, routes in the gym are too hard, the gym too noisy and there are no little birds flyghing around…it’s boring. And no, I cannot climb everything in the Dolomites but I love the place so much that I wish I could.
8. If you call him, your conversation will last a maximum of five minutes. He hates the telephone.
Yep, that is very true. Please don’t take it personally but I much rather see you and have a great chat every once in a while than spending time over the phone…so…BOOK YOUR TICKETS TO NY PEOPLE!!!!
9. He had a short career as a model. He wore (wait for it) a SUIT. Yep, a jacket and tie. Well, technically he slung the jacket over his shoulder on the catwalk. Still, if you had to live with the stinky footed, unshaven Pnut that I have to live with, this tidbit of info might make your eyes pop a bit.
No comments here….I am still ashamed…
10. He dressed as a woman for Carnevale in Venice. Every year. I have the pictures. And he could have modeled as a woman too… which might explain a few things about our relationship… but I’m not sure what…
Well…the story is: we did that one year, I think I was 15 or sometihng. Big group of guys, all dressed like women strolling around Piazza S.Marco chasing tourists and being loud and obnoxious. Then, something incredible and highly unexpected happended…we got immediately SURROUNDED by chicks…REAL ONES!!!!! How could we skip this great occasion to pick up girls on numbers we definitely weren’t accustomed to? So each year ’till my departure we kept on this nice and friendly tradition of wearing skirts and tubetops.
August 21st, 2009 at
OK seriously, you MUST post pictures of the modeling gig and the cross-dressing!
And THREE HOURS? Man, I thought I was anxious about the airport!
August 23rd, 2009 at
And one thing you could guess about the topo :
her mathematical skills are … ahum … suffice to say that counting to 10 appears to be a challenge already.