Blogging the Relationship from Boston

It's a lovely Thursday morning and I am stuck in Logan in my own private hell. My face (and hair, and body) is unwashed and my bare feet are slucking around inside clammy, dirty shoes, because I only brought one pair of socks to Boston and I've already worn them twice, and now, to add insult to injury, someone has set off some alarm that no one has turned off for twenty minutes.

Yes, I'll repeat that. No one has turned off the alarm. It has gotten to the point where complete strangers in this airport wing are overcoming their New England reserve to talk to each other, saying, "Can you BELIEVE that NO ONE has turned off that GOD-DAMMED ALARM??"

So my brain is trying to claw its way out of my skull and I can never take my shoes off again because of the stench. How is YOUR Thursday going?

The LT and I have been, for some weeks, trying to figure out if we were going to attend the wedding of one of my closest friends from college--hi, Anna! Or, at least, I knew I was going to attend the wedding, but the LT is trying to sell his house, buy a new house, and look for a job, all at once, and even the most financially carefree person might pause during these endeavors. And as I've been on travel six days out of the last ten, most of the conversations about this have been by phone.

Monday, Anna helpfully called me and reminded me that she really did have to know if LT was coming or not, and no, we couldn't just surprise her. And as a way of helping me decide, she reported that most of our other sorority sisters and generally all-around cool girls were ALSO not bringing their significant others, and I dutifully called the LT and reported this fact.

Me: "So, if none of the other boys are going either, then I'm not as concerned if you don't go." (Please ignore the HORRIBLE grammar here, SAT students.) "I mean, I'd love to have you come, but if it's going to be mainly girls, then..."

(Silence)

Me: "Baby?" (Wondering: Is it possible that I've insulted him by saying he doesn't need to come if none of the other boys are going either? Does he feel reduced to arm candy? Is he insulted that I'm implying he'll get in my way during nights out with the girls?)

LT: "I'm stuck. Because if I come, then I'll be only the only boy in a crown of girls looking for trouble, making you look like a pimp, which might be what you want. And if I don't come, I'll be allowing you to hang out with your girls on your own, which might be what you want. I don't know what the right answer is! GAH!"

Me: (laughing hysterically) "I say...pick the second option!"

LT: "Um...no? I'm not going?"

Me: "Yes! You're not going! Congratulations!"

LT: "Whew!"

I found this dialog hysterical, mainly because I'm always surprised and pleased every time I realize how much time HE spends trying to make the "right" answers. I have known for many years that most boys see we girls as diabolically complicated machines with hundreds of switches and several thousand known bugs in our code, which predicates completely surprising answers, but I still get a chuckle out of the idea.