Thursday, July 24, 2014

In which Ted, Primo's half brother, demands that Primo drop everything to do Ted a favor

Last night, Primo came home from a four day business trip. He leaves again today for a week. Today is Saturday. Yes, I posted this on a Thursday, but I write these things as they happen.

So he came home after being gone for four days. I don't know what business travel is like for you guys, but I think for most of us now it means spending all day at the customer site or the conference and then spending several hours in the evening answering email because hey the world doesn't stop just because you are doing something else during the work day and if we don't take care of the customer, someone else will.

So Primo spends all day with the customer and then spends hours answering email from co-workers and other customers and trying to keep everyone happy and every now and then sending me a facebook message that he wants to quit his job and become a revolutionary, to which I say, Don't we all?

So he was gone for four days. Gets home at 8 p.m. Friday. His flight today leaves at noon. No, he is still not ready even though he needs to leave for the airport ten minutes ago.

I did not realize that part of marriage would be Sucking Up Your Partner's Stress. But it is. I guess.

Is there any stress worse (outside of watching someone you love suffer from an illness) than stress you watch that the other person imposes on himself? As in, Primo has to catch a plane. He has to pack and take a shower and doesn't have a lot of time.

So he does the dishes. And scoops the kitty litter.

Neither of those tasks are on the critical path. Both are tasks that can easily be delegated. Both are tasks I can and I will do.

But rather than focus on packing and showering, he does the dishes.

Because I did not do them, he tells me.

I said that I would have done them eventually and it is not necessary for the dishes to be done by 10:00 a.m. and could he just chill and do what he needs to do?

I cannot shower for him. I cannot pack for him. (I don't fold things right. Oh, how sad I am that he would rather I not fold his shirts.)

I can, however, do dishes and scoop the cat box.

Primo is easily distracted. Squirrel!

So. Back to Ted the Jerk.

He came downstairs last night after checking his email and said that his half brother Ted, the one who told me I was f-ing stupid for not thinking that Ted Kennedy was the most amazing wonderful person evah after I pointed out that Kennedy left a woman to drown in his car after he drove the car off a bridge and used his political influence to escape the consequences that would have befallen a normal person.

Ted and I do not get along.

He is his father's son.

How did Primo turn out so well, one asks?

I don't know but I'm glad he did. Still, I wish that he were an orphan. Our lives would be a lot easier.

Ted had emailed Primo, Sly, and Doris, asking them to review the 90-minute rough cut of his latest documentary.

Sly and Doris wrote back to Ted and told him they had watched it and would send him some notes this weekend.

Ted wrote back and said that this weekend would be too late.

Primo wrote and said that he would not have a chance to watch the movie and give feedback for a few weeks, as he was very busy.

Ted replied that if Primo wants to be in [Primo's business], he can do what you want. If he wants to be in politics, he has to adjust his schedule.

I should not be surprised that Ted is being a jerk. It's who he is.

Primo has more information. Turns out that the person who is funding the production of Ted's film is considering pulling the money. Ted wanted to give her some positive feedback about the film. So his solution was to have his father, stepmother, and half brother review it.

I won't even bother to comment on this.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

In which Primo gets his photo taken with voters while he's collecting campaign signatures

Primo went out to collect nominating petition signatures yesterday. He needs 1,000 signatures to get on the ballot and can turn in 2,000, which of course they will do, because the signatures have to be validated. He is not going to collect all the signatures himself, like we did for the state house run. That was a pain in the neck - a friend of ours wouldn't sign! It wasn't a vote for Primo - it was just a signature to get him on the ballot. I would sign a nominating petition for almost anyone because I think nobody should ever run unopposed, even the people on my side. Politicians need to be accountable to the people and an election is the only chance we have to hold them to account.

Anyhow - he was out collecting signatures in our neighborhood mostly so his campaign photographer could get some photos of him with voters. Unfortunately, the people we thought for sure would be available for photos were either out or working in the garden and messy and didn't want a photo taken. The people whom we had asked to help with his campaign a few years ago who declined because they were "very committed to [the Stripes presidential candidate]" weren't home.

So I called my friend Mary Jo from book club - she is an ardent Stripe - and asked if she would be in a photo with Primo. She is super nice and has this great smile and would look good in photos. She said sure and then another neighbor, Don, whom I had recruited to volunteer on the other campaign, also agreed.

I told Primo that if it weren't for me, he would have no photos.

I also said that perhaps he should have identified people to be in the photos more than one hour before the photographer appeared.

We did get our friend Robert, who lives down the street, to sign. Robert has MS. We noticed him when we first moved into the house - we would see this 40something man out during the day walking his dogs. He has an odd gait and Primo and I thought he must live in his mother's basement and drink a lot.

Robert became friends with our next door neighbor - next-door neighbor also had three dogs - and I mentioned something once to the neighbor that Robert seemed like an odd guy.

She said, "Well he has MS, so he can't really work. He walks as much as he can to slow the progress of the disease. He is a really nice guy."

The shame overwhelmed me and I wanted to sink into the ground. That's what I get for assuming the worst about someone. For shame, for shame, for shame.

So then I started talking to Robert and discovered that he is, indeed, a very nice guy. Yesterday was his birthday, so I told him I would make him any cake he wanted. He wanted this cake, which is made with cake mix and Cool Whip. Don't get me wrong - I love Cool Whip. When I was a kid, visiting my grandmother, I would sneak into the basement, open the chest freezer, grab the Cool Whip, and break off chunks of frozen Cool Whip and eat them. I love the stuff.

Break - Primo is reading the Sunday paper. It shows a chart of voting by party for the area in his district. There is one tiny little enclave of Stripes and the rest is Polka Dots. Draw your own conclusions.

Back to the cake. I told Robert I would make him whatever he wanted and he wanted this. "I'll make you something with a pound of butter in it," I told him, but he wanted this cake.

So I made it and Primo and I walked over to his house to deliver it to him. Primo took his clipboard and a petition and Robert signed it, even though in the last election, he had said that he would be voting for Primo's opponent. (But he did sign the nominating petition.) This time, Robert said he would vote for Primo, as the incumbent has been there too long.

So that's it. That's the campaign news for today. Except Primo is whiney and saying there is too much to do and he wants to quit his job, which I know he wants to do because he has been saying that for years now but unless we can inherit a million dollars, it's not going to happen. I have suggested to Primo that he work on the inheritance but he is playing dumb and telling me he doesn't know how to do that.

Just to be clear - we will not inherit a million dollars from my mom. And if we did, I would want a lot of it to go to my brother, who has some mental health issues that are making it hard for him to work.

Whereas Primo does stand to inherit money.

We'll stop there.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

In which Primo's campaign team wants to take photos of him for the campaign and want me to be in some of them

Primo: Roxanne wants to take some photos of me on Saturday.

Me: That's fine.

Primo: She wants some with you as well.

Me: Nope.

Primo: But she wants some of both of us.

Me: What part of, "I will not be involved in this campaign" did the team not get?

Primo: Just some photos?

Me: No. I hate it. I hate having my photo taken.

And I do. My mother traumatized me as a kid because she was always taking photos and she was never fast about it. She would pose us incessantly and then make us wait while she made adjustments. Any time she has wanted to take a photo of me as an adult, it has been after I got home from the gym or when I just get out of bed, not when I am bathed and groomed. I don't think there is a single photo that my mom has ever taken of me that I have liked. Indeed, the only photos of myself that I like are my old Tennessee drivers license photo (I know - I know! THAT IS HOW MUCH I HATE HAVING MY PHOTO TAKEN) and my second grade school photo.

Every other photo, I hate. They probably really do look like me, which is the bigger issue, because I do not like the way I look, but given that, I should not be forced to participate in a system that is going to perpetuate my looks. I do not want to have my photo taken. I don't want to look at photos of myself. I don't want other people to look at photos of me. I know I am weird about this - I do not understand the obsession with selfies and have never and will never take one. I am not going to spend my Saturday morning having my photo taken.

Do I sound cranky? I am. I had to have my photo taken my first day at work and on business trips, people always want a photo of the group and I wonder when did this become a thing? It was never a thing earlier in my career. I didn't go to see customers or my company's offices in another country and have to endure a photo session. We worked and we finished working and we went out to eat and that was it. There were no photos!

So I will not be having my photo taken on Saturday. We have photos left over from the other campaign that should work just fine.

Don't even get me started on the issue of why on earth should anyone care about the candidate's spouse.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

In which Sly tells Doris, who tells Primo, that he is "hurt" by the distance between us

My mom said that my dad is very hurt by your distance from them. I told her (while he was out) that you can't stand his criticism of her and his periodic meanness. No big blow-ups happened this week, but he came close once.

your dad is hurt?
I don't believe it
She says so.
yeah right
he can't stand me
he just doesn't like that I have rejected him
he wants to be the one to reject me

Thursday, July 3, 2014

In which Primo decides he can trust his social media person because she is as much a control freak as he is

So Primo gave his speech and spent the rest of the weekend in a tizzy because it is very exciting to announce that you are running for Congress. Then he got in an all-afternoon argument with his social media person because he changed a word on something she posted and she got mad, saying that he was micromanaging her, which he totally was because Primo is a total micromanager.

He bounded downstairs to tell me about the word change and the fight and wanted me to agree with him. I did agree that the word he used was better than the word she used - she had posted, "Here is a map which reflects the recently redistricted Xth Congressional District" and Primo corrected it to, "Here is a map which reflects the recently redrawn 27th Congressional District," which is better, but I can see why she was ticked. I reminded Primo that people don't like to be micromanaged and perhaps he could have sent her an email saying, "I think we should use 'redrawn' instead of 'redistricted'" and then she could have made the decision.

Primo said that he is not used to working with people whose work he doesn't have to correct. I told him if he is going to be involved to that level on the campaign that he will have no time to sleep between now and November.

He went back upstairs to talk to his campaign manager.

I decided not to mention that the sentence really should be "Here is a map that reflects the recently redrawn 27th Congressional District" because Lord have mercy I do not want to get into this with anyone.

He came back downstairs and said that the campaign manager told him not to be such a control freak and I said you need to listen to your campaign manager.

Except telling Primo not to be a control freak is like telling a fish not to swim or a bird not to fly.

He goes back upstairs and stews some more. Or reads some more political stuff on facebook. Or maybe calls his mom and dad for the Mandatory Weekly Call As Proof That He Loves Them.

Then he comes back downstairs and says, "I guess I can let the social media person do what she wants because if she is that mad that I interfered, she is as controlling as I am and will make sure to get it right."

Which is a relief to me because I do not want to be involved in any of this.

Friday, June 27, 2014

In which Sly reiterates his dislike of me

Primo: My dad told me I have very bad taste in women.

Me: What? When? Last week?

Primo: Yes.

Me: What prompted that?

Primo: I commented that I thought a particular tennis player is really good looking and he said that I have particularly bad taste in women.

Me: But he is saddened by the rift between us.

Primo: No! Not just saddened. He's "deeply hurt."

In which I question my political bona fides

Am I a bad Political Wife because I don't want to watch Primo march in a Fourth of July parade? I can't think of anything I want to do less next Friday than get out of bed early, take a shower, dry my hair, dress for The Public (even though The Public couldn't care less about me), and then stand for an hour in what should be really hot weather but will probably be cold weather while people walk past me.