Circles, lines, and Anger Management

A couple people asked about my bitchin' tattoo (one of EIGHT; I am such a badass!) yesterday, so here's the deal with that (and I don't feel like posting the picture again, so just go ahead and scroll down if you want to see it).

It's supposed to be a giant marble, with a perpetual line going through it, and a chrome ring around the perpetual line.

"Why?" you ask.

"Because I'm on crack," I smile, patting you fondly on the head.

Ha! I joke. Actually, when Husband and I went to premarital counseling (I know! Funny, huh? But we totally did!), we were told that women think in a circle, and men think in a straight line.

"Cool!" we said. "So that's why we always disagree!"

(Because I'd thought it was just because I'm always right, and he's always wrong. But that cleared it up.)

Later that day, we were talking about the whole thing, and he said something to the effect of, "Both a circle and a line go on forever."

To which I replied, "I love you in a circle!"

He came back, "And I love you in a line."

So there we have the circle, and the line.

The marble's just there because I needed something to show that the line went on continuously, and I thought that would do the trick.

I love the thing. But most people just say it looks like a mushroom.

So fuck them.

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Which reminds me, I haven't talked about Husband in a while. So let's talk about him!

Husband has a toothache (HA HA, BITCH) and doesn't know why.

His theory?

"That whore who cleaned my teeth a couple weeks ago poked me really hard, and I think she poked a hole in my tooth. I've never had any cavities before, so it's probably that whore's fault."

Funny, I always thought the term was "dental hygienist" ... but whatever. I'm sure "whore" is just as acceptable. Let's hear it for the loose women working in Army dental clinics! Hopefully they're generous with the Percocet!

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I know some of you are wondering if I'll ever have to go to the infamous Anger Management classes my command sentenced me to back in August.

Yeah, well, I have no idea.

It's been more than a month since the punishment was handed down. Apparently, I am so completely unable to control my temper that everyone above me seems to have forgotten that I Need Help.

About a week ago, Night Boss returned from his two weeks of leave and asked me, "Hey, did you ever go to those Anger Management classes?"

I answered, "Well, no ... but I haven't gotten in any trouble for anything since then. Maybe they decided I didn't need the classes, after all." [according to CAPTAIN OBVIOUS]

"Hmmm," he said (he precedes just about every statement with "Hmmm"). "I still think you should go."

See, this is the way Night Boss operates.

I present a situation to him, and tell him exactly what I think should happen, based on logic, common sense, intuition and all that lovely stuff.

He looks me in the eye as I speak, nods -- making me think he understands -- and waits till I've finished making my (correct) point.

Then he proposes a course of action which not only is (usually) disagreeable, but also which flies miles over the head of logic, common sense and intuition until What We Should Do is only a tiny speck, far far away from What We Actually End Up Doing.

In this case, given the facts:

A) The punishment given me was ludicrous to begin with
B) I haven't committed any offense since the ludicrous punishment was handed down
C) If the person who originally decided on the punishment has forgotten about it, it probably isn't too big of a deal

My idea was simply, "Let's just not bring it up unless they ask. Unless [insert dripping sarcasm here] you feel that I pose an immediate threat to this office, and may possibly judo-CHOP your throat if I am not properly instructed on how to refrain from doing so."

I'm guessing he fears the judo-CHOP, because the next night, he was filling out paperwork for the classes.

But I've still heard absolutely nothing about it. And I'm not surprised, for this is the way the Army works.

So we'll see what happens. And who knows, maybe I'll just judo-CHOP him anyway -- you know, for the hell of it.

Because around here, we have to make our own fun.

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LASTLY! (But not leastly!) I owe some mad propz to Jordan for helping me make this page extra booty-ful for you guys. So go say hi to him, and tell him what a kick-ass template-booty-fier he is.

Aydeeose compadrees!