All kinds of crazy

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Me: So, what do you think?
Him: I think you’re getting too bored, too often. (followed by mad cackling)

We got a call from USAGC, which is the USA green card lottery people. I filled in the application in order to enter another, unrelated lottery and promptly forgot about it. Honestly, I feel a little dirty. The woman who called me up had an intelligible but heavy accent, and while she was rambling up all the countries that were not eligible in this lottery (oh, we are fortunate to be born in the land of Danes and Funland, respectively, for sure) I couldn’t help think how she might just be working at a callcenter in any of those countries herself.

I felt slightly dirty telling her I’m a housewife. And more so when she told me it was OK because I am married to someone who does have a job.

And by the way, we have twice as much chance to win because we’re married. And Carlita would of course get a green card too.

It feels all kinds of wrong to be eligible just because of where we were born. I don’t speak for all Funns, but I’m sure they’d be able to find a million other people that are more deserving than the two of us - and I wanted to tell her; Lady, you do not want us. Trust me.

I told her I needed to discuss it with my husband, because she wanted us to pony up money. I devilishly lied and told her Jelly Man was working while he is, in fact, on his third week of a month long vacation - spending much of his time farting and playing poker - and felt utterly disgusted with myself.

* * *

In other news, I got my period. That is all kinds of relief and only slightly melancholic.

* * *

He behaved like a gentle giant, but he was the smallest of us all. He died, and I already forget when, but his grave is neatly tucked between two berry bushes - something I’m sure he would approve of, had he only known - and it rained later that night, how fitting. I couldn’t help thinking that the roses bloomed so hard and fiercely this year just for him. His little box was padded with rose petals and stemless roses. We’re pretty sure he passed away in his sleep, and thinking back we do remember him being a bit on the tired side as of late.

Every now and then it hits me hard, but he had a pretty good life. And a long one, six whole years.

R.I.P. Twin, the boarest of boars.