Yesterday, Chac commented on an old post about relationships and astrology:
Aquarius woman here… OK – I think you may want to look at the ascendant signs (your outward masks) and your moon signs (emotional behaviors) before totally giving up. Your sun sign is how you see yourself – your ego, if you will. So, here is my point: My ego is Aquarius. My outward appearance is Libra. My moon is Scorpio. Lots of sex, inner-conflict and intellectual sparring. Basically, a female version of Bronte’s Heathcliff. My poor, poor boyfriend… I’ll bet you are just a bit more curious about Sophia’s other signs now – you should be 🙂
Do I understand what she wrote? Not at all. But maybe the stars are the best explanation for the tiff I had yesterday with… uh, Sandy. (I promised… uh, Sandy, that I wouldn’t talk about her without her permission, so for now, I will be using the name… uh, Sandy, as a stand-in for… uh, Sandy).
Please point me to a book or blog where a writer does a good job in capturing in words a marital tiff. I’ve mentioned this before. I am hopeless. I have no skill in describing those irritating little marital tiffs. Just writing the dialogue wouldn’t make any sense. It wasn’t an all out fight. In fact, we had a nice day at a friend’s “Memorial Weekend” BBQ. When we got home, Sandy asked me to pick up some saucepan that I had washed earlier (and put it on the floor to air-dry). I got upset, raised my voice, said something sarcastic and it all went downhill from that.
So, the fun ended and back I went to my “bachelor” apartment.
I don’t particularly like my apartment. It’s one of those separated man’s limbo-land apartments. All the really nice stuff is back at Sandy’s. My couch has crumbs under the pillows. My computer table is a bridge table. After living in a home with a “woman’s touch,” this apartment just seems drab. So… utilitarian. Women seem to know where to put everything so it looks nice. Like flowers.
Sometimes Sandy and I joke about starting an online “home-shopping” website for separated men. With one click of the button, they can order everything they need for their new “bachelor pad” — a couch, a bed, a TV, a lamp, a vacuum, and a toaster — and they’ll be all ready to live their new miserable lives.
But I don’t sit and wallow, especially on a holiday weekend. If my apartment looks bad, it’s my own fault. I’m creative. I can change things. So, today, I undertook the process of Bachelor Pad Home Makeover. Today, in a few hours, I’ve already turned my apartment from a depressing dump into a place where I can bring a classy one night stand who says to me, “What a nice apartment. Which way to the bedroom?”
I took some architectural photographs to show the process of my one day home re-design:
The first step was to kick out my roommates. While they can be a fun bunch who like to party, I’m getting too old for this “dorm living.”
I’m also noticing that many of the more “high maintenance” Los Angeles women (you know the type) refuse to f**k when there are other men, women, and children looking on in the bedroom. Talk about prudes! So, adios, roomies! Remember to take your stuff from the fridge!
Once my roommates were kicked out, it was time to paint.
I’m a firm believer that the exterior of a home says as much about you as the interior.
Always have a plan… whether it is in home renovation or life itself!
Who’s living it up now… uh, Sandy?