Cardiogirl: 19% body fat 100% fun

With regard to NaNoWriMo, I’ve slayed the dragon, gingah. As you probably read on Saturday, I took it down successfully but I’m going for more. That’s right; I will make a pair of leather Converse low tops from the carcass. Thanks for the idea Tim!

Bon appétit!

As you can probably guess, I am not Cardiogirl. No, I am Bluesleepy, who writes over at bluesleepy.wordpress.com. See, CG is on a break from writing her blog to get through NaNoWriMo this month, so she asked a few of us to help her out with posting.

Now you know why I’m here. Anyhow. So the assignment for this post was “the silliest argument you’ve ever had.” Hmmm. I have to think about this for a bit because I’ve been married for eight years now, and almost all of our arguments are silly.

The one with the pillows

I remember one time we got into an argument not long after we were married because I asked my husband to pick the pillows up off the floor and put them back on the couch. He felt I was insinuating that he was lazy, you see. I’m not quite sure how he made the jump from a simple request to a blatant criticism, but there you have it.

The one with the bowls

I know we’ve gotten into arguments because of the way he unloads the dishwasher. Listen, I am hugely grateful that he even attempts to unload the dishwasher and help out around the house, but is it too much to ask that he put a large bowl under a small bowl, instead of perching the large bowl precariously on top of the smaller ones?

It wasn’t long after that argument that I opened the cupboard to have a stack of unbalanced bowls fly out at me, causing my favorite fruit bowl to shatter upon the linoleum.

I was so sad. (Ed. note: Blue I would have been so livid and so pissed. I think I might have banned him from putting the dishes away. Yes, that’s totally cutting off my nose to spite my face, but I would have banned him anyway.)

The one with the stove

Most recently my husband became angry when I chose to scour the stove instead of doing something else in preparation for having house guests. He felt I was using my time badly, and I should have been doing something far more constructive than scouring the stove.

What he doesn’t seem to realize, even after all these years, is scrubbing things and straightening up and cleaning is usually quite therapeutic for me. I have nothing better to do when I’m scrubbing than to let my mind wander, and it’s during those times that I usually solve some problem I’m facing. So for me to be scrubbing instead of doing something else is actually a good thing.

Try telling that to him, however. It’s like talking to a brick wall.

The one where they live happily ever after

As far as resolution goes, we aren’t too big on resolving things, it seems. Generally we argue about whatever stupid thing we’ve decided to be angry about until we’re both raging mad, and then after a while one or the other will apologize, and he’ll enfold me in his big, strong arms (have I mentioned he’s a full foot taller than me?), and we’ll go back to being a loving couple.

One of my friends pointed out to me once, when I was beyond fed up about fighting about all the stupid little things, that it’s actually a good thing that we fight about the little stuff. It means we’re on the same page about the big things.

It’s much easier to let go of resentment caused by his poor organization of the cupboards than that caused by a difference in opinion regarding how many children to have, or how to discipline those kids, or whether to go to church.

So all in all, I’ll take my stupid little fights. Now it just remains for me to learn to keep my own mouth shut more often so those stupid little fights become infrequent little fights.

Hey, it could happen.

I made that bar turn green. Yes I did~!~

I spanked its ass. I spanked it right into Saturday and that is why we are chatting on this fine morning.

And today I will use liberal exclamation points and not just the pedestrian ones~!~ I will use the special exclamation points that Liz and I created~!~ I earned those exclamation points fair and square~!~

I WILL SCREAM, TOO~!~ I WILL SCREAM LIKE HOWARD DEAN~!~ I’M GOING TO WASHINGTON D.C. TO TAKE OVER THE WHITE HOUSE!

YEEEEEAAAAAHHH~!~

Bustin’ five knots, wind whippin’ out my coat
You can’t stop me mofo ’cause I’m on a boat

YES. I. AM.

I’m the Captain of that boat and my starched white uniform is extremely bitchin’ because it totally showcases my new kicks.

Yeah, I am wearing those shoes up there. You see how funkalicious those are?

They shine.

They shine because I am on a boat, kids.

Friday is The Book of Questions Day around these parts.

Today’s question comes from the aptly titled book “The Book of Questions” by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.

And here it is, Question 155.

Would you be willing to make a substantial sacrifice to have any of the following: your picture on a postage stamp, your statue in a park, a college named after you, a Nobel prize, a national holiday in your honor?

Are honors more likely to come to those who seek them or to those who don’t care about fame and think only of their work? How much do fame and accomplishment impress you? Does just knowing you’ve accomplished something worthwhile mean as much to you as getting attention and praise for the accomplishment?

Well this is just a crock pot full of slow-cooking psychological stew, isn’t it? Lots to answer, lots to explain.

No to the whole thing. I’m not quite sure what a substantial sacrifice entails but I know it involves giving up more than I want to for something I’m not that jazzed about.

I’m not cool with my photo or likeness so the stamp and the statue are immediately out.

With the exception of my middle name, I got no beef with my handle but I still don’t fancy strolling about a college campus and seeing Cardiogirl etched in stone on the facade.

A Nobel prize isn’t doing it for me either and I don’t want people bitching about all of the government offices being closed on Cardiogirl Day. And everyone knows, if a holiday is going to be named after you, you need three names or just one strong name, i.e., Martin Luther King Day or Columbus Day.

It’s a tough call, I think, regarding honors coming to those who seek them versus those who let their work speak for itself. I really think that’s 50/50.

With enough tenacity and self promotion I think there’s a solid shot at fame. But fame and accomplishment are two very different things. Look at Perez Hilton.

I’m not into fame based on the exclusionary and unbalanced aspect of it. I do not like the idea of one person’s worth being perceived as that much greater than another person’s. Now maybe that’s not your definition of fame.

But when I think of someone who’s famous I think of the fact that said person receives a lot of perks based on his or her well-known face. No one’s closing down the mall for me so I can do my Christmas shopping.

It’s just a fact that the rich and famous generally receive preferential treatment whether it’s first in line for a donated liver (raises eyebrows in Steve Jobs’ direction) or the best table at Sardi’s in New York — where the dress code is smart casual.

Don’t even try to tell me that the Maitre d’ would consider my Converse low tops — brand new or comfortably worn — smart casual. But I’ll bet a pair of Chucks on Tom Cruise’s dogs would be considered smart casual and fashion forward.

Lastly, knowing I’ve accomplished something worthwhile does mean much more to me than public accolades. I work hard to make it to the top of the Fitlinxx charts each month and I’m looking forward to patting myself on the back when I hit 50,000 words.

And just for the record, I would be admiring 100% on that widget right now if I didn’t have sick kids in the house.

You could say I’m a hypocrite in this case and that I am, indeed, looking for public accolades by posting that NaNo widget over there.

If you said that, you would be right.