Apparently I can cook really well. Which is yet another reason that my apartment mate's boyfriend is jealous as all git-out. Of me. Upon returning home I made the mistake of asking her how she was. You should probably never ask an Asperger syndrome person how she is; the answer may be incredibly long and detailed.
Especially if she if fraught.
"How are you?"
A simple question. A forty minute (plus) answer. And yes, Wheelie Boy is partly responsible for that. Seeing as, being an Aspie even more than she is, he is quite insensitive to her mental state.
Can't read any of the signs.
Dingo.
Her oldest brother too. He's apparently also somewhere on the dark side of the spectrum.
Even though he is not green and lovable.
But still. Wheelie Boy.
Most of it.
"Love is not slapping the sh*t out of someone who irritates the f*ck out of you."
Yeah, that works. Personally, I'm a bit more of a romantic.
She also categorized both of them as "just like sea monkeys but not as bright". Now, seeing as even after all these years I've never met her oldest brother, I cannot vouch for the accuracy of the statement as it applies to him. Yes, I've met her boyfriend once or twice. But discretion and tact forbid me from describing him in any way. Other than by saying that he's got a nice shiny wheelchair, why, it makes him the very best mobility impaired person on his block. Top notch.
Yowzers.
The crooked teeth referenced in the title of this post? Her dental retainers broke. They are the only thing keeping her lower jaw from going out of sync with her upper chompers, apparently.
And that also is a profound cause of frustration.
Other than that, she's doing fine.
And let's not forget that she's living with someone who is sparklingly sane, which is a good thing. Stable, understanding, tolerant of stuffed animals, and kind to her teddy bear.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
A DUMPSTER FIRE OF TWITTERY
Often while at work I get to hear the sour old dingbats in the backroom spouting Republican drivel and venom. Which does not leave me positi...
3 comments:
"we still live in the same apartment; after sharing space for so long we're just too ornery to up and move, even though were not a couple but just good friends now".
Anybody who has been following the soap-opera of your life knows this by now; there's no reason to repeat it time after time after time.
Anyway, I have a favor to ask you. I understand that you have access to Frank Sinatra's private plane; if I need to use it some time, may I contact you through comments in this blog? Thanks. I think I might have need for it if I have some emergency soon.
"there's no reason to repeat it time after time after time."
Clarification for new readers, who might be attractive, intelligent, and impatient women.
But point taken.
Regarding the plane, that's supposed to be hush-hush. And yes, feel free to contact me through this blog.
Appropriate edits have been made.
Post a Comment