Friday, December 18, 2009


I just love it when people talk about me. It doesn't matter if it's good or bad. That's one good thing about being in Korea. Since everyone knows I don't speak a damn word of Korean, they talk about me freely, right in front of my face. I just smile and nod every time I catch my name amongst the hacking and whining they call a language, cause they think I'm awesome. I just know they do.

Now, my recent marital escapades have been mentioned by Mr. Wonderful in one of my most favoritest Korean blogs ever, An Idiot's Tale! Oh the joy!

In case you haven't been following the riveting story, my response to the Soju incident I mentioned a few days ago, was to stop speaking to my husband. The plan was to hold out for an apology. Sadly, Mr. AwesomDumb's usual reaction to me being mad at him, is to get mad at me for being mad at him. Sometimes he's right. I've been known to flip my lid over some pretty stupid shit from time to time. In those cases, I'll forgive him more quickly.

This time I was pretty sure sneakily pounding Soju on an empty stomach after Co-Teacher Toad and I had been on a wild ride and then throwing up in the bathroom for half an hour when we could have enjoyed a perfectly nice evening . . . well, doing pretty much anything except that, was in bad taste.

After not speaking to my husband for a day or two (who can keep track of these things?) I finally broke down and acknowledged him. There are several reasons for this.

1. It is quite awkward to hate someone so much you don't want to speak to them, yet at the same time, want to eat the dinners they make. If you eat the food they prepare doesn't that imply that you must like them at least a little? And what's to stop the object of your scorn from saying something like, "Oh you're too good to talk to me, but not too good to eat my food?" Yes and yes. But people with alcoholic brain damage simply can't understand the complexities behind such reasoning. So I went hungry . . . until he went to bed, then I ate the dinner. Awkward.

2. Frankly, hating someone with all your heart is quite exhausting. When someone makes my shit list, I invest a lot of time and energy into making their lives hell. That leaves little time for other activities.

Also, I could tell from this scathing account on his lame blog that he was miserable without me. Anyway every time he gets sloppy drunk, it's only that much easier to win an argument later, what with all the eradicated brain cells. I'd say at this point I'm at least 50 IQ points ahead of him.

So to recap, he didn't apologize, we didn't make up, we just took a few steps back from marital implosion and into our baseline of comfortable dysfunction. Anyway, like I said before, being emotionally immature means never having to say you're sorry.

1 comment:

LouDog said...

Damn straight it does.