A bunch of you who comment in my journal probably weren't around when I was posting the "why I love my girlfriend" entries here last year (before I moved up here and moved in with her). In particular, you probably missed the Double Leter Episode at a Japanese restaurant last year.
Well, we ended up at the same restaurant last week (on King Street in Newtown for any locals that care) and the Double Leter thing started up again in earnest. Almost like it was some kind of significant anniversary. I'm a little better ...er, beter ... than I was, but I still have to "look ahead" at what I'm going to say, quickly visualise the words I plan to utter (uter!), and make my adjustments that way. She can see the words in "real time" and just run off (of, damit!) at the mouth, without a double leter in sight.
It's awesome and slightly scary, but that's my girl.
Here's a couple of things she said recently that are worth repeating.
1. "What's it like to go through life with hairy fists?"
(Asked while sitting at a table at a different restaurant, waiting for food, while I sat with my hands in front of me. They're not that hairy by the way.)
2. "Is it normal to see guys on the street and wonder how many of them have taken it up the arse?"
(Asked earlier today as we drove along William Street, East Sydney.)
It's late so here's the last thing. A friend of hers sent her an email that contains a "psychological-test" question. There's no right or wrong answer, but there's a certain answer that tends to indicate a psycopathic personality.
The scenario is this. A woman meets a man while at her mother's funeral. She falls in love with the man, convinced he's her ideal soul-mate, but she doesn't get his number. Afterwards, try as she might, she is unable to track him down.
A few days later, she kills her sister.
What's the reason?
The point of this story is that my girl got the answer that apparently psychopaths give, right away.
She's not like other girls. I've said that before, haven't I ...
Well, we ended up at the same restaurant last week (on King Street in Newtown for any locals that care) and the Double Leter thing started up again in earnest. Almost like it was some kind of significant anniversary. I'm a little better ...er, beter ... than I was, but I still have to "look ahead" at what I'm going to say, quickly visualise the words I plan to utter (uter!), and make my adjustments that way. She can see the words in "real time" and just run off (of, damit!) at the mouth, without a double leter in sight.
It's awesome and slightly scary, but that's my girl.
Here's a couple of things she said recently that are worth repeating.
1. "What's it like to go through life with hairy fists?"
(Asked while sitting at a table at a different restaurant, waiting for food, while I sat with my hands in front of me. They're not that hairy by the way.)
2. "Is it normal to see guys on the street and wonder how many of them have taken it up the arse?"
(Asked earlier today as we drove along William Street, East Sydney.)
It's late so here's the last thing. A friend of hers sent her an email that contains a "psychological-test" question. There's no right or wrong answer, but there's a certain answer that tends to indicate a psycopathic personality.
The scenario is this. A woman meets a man while at her mother's funeral. She falls in love with the man, convinced he's her ideal soul-mate, but she doesn't get his number. Afterwards, try as she might, she is unable to track him down.
A few days later, she kills her sister.
What's the reason?
The point of this story is that my girl got the answer that apparently psychopaths give, right away.
She's not like other girls. I've said that before, haven't I ...
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And no, Sean hasn't invited me to HQ for cocktails yet, nor the Thucydides group, although I am eligible. Honestly despite our alpha personality clashes, he and I aren't that far apart on most issues, we're just violently and diametrically opposed on a few contentious ones. I think we also arrive at concord by very different paths.