Multiplication

I've hyperventilated three times in my life. The first time I was seven and had just witnessed Ivan Drago's fatal blow to Apollo Creed in Rocky IV. I stood outside the movie theater for the duration (which, you may recall, would've been the entire movie) breathing into a brown paper bag. Contrary to urban legend, the eternally 100-year old woman who ran the place was flesh and blood and did not have fangs sprouting out her chin.

The second time was yesterday when I stumbled upon the knowledge that my husband informed "a few" people that I had a blog. The third time was four hours later when he confessed to sending an email to almost everyone in his address book (which means that only our utility companies and free overnight shipping sneaker store were spared). It was bad enough when I thought "a few" meant four (since when did it turn into 84!?) because I wasn't serious about this! I was just exploring, testing it out, exercising my imagination.

Which, I discovered, can take you all kinds of places when your audience of one (your husband) turns into x 100.

My horrification (I invent words, by the way) stems exclusively from the belief that people have way more important things to do with their time than read about how I am (or am not) spending mine.

As I said, Pete (my husband) was the only one that even knew I had a blog. I liked it that way--it was intentional. I could get subtle messages across (aren't spontaneous overnight trips to remote locations where you can eat bread for breakfast, lunch, and dinner FUN?) under HIS illusion that I was writing to the world (but really just to him). It was going to be the next breakthrough "couples' communication strategy": not only was I NOT accusing, but suggesting ideas that he could brandish as his own! We both win! Besides, men have left Mars and were women ever in Venus to begin with?

Regardless, Mars, Venus, the moon...wherever we're from, many would argue we're in cyberspace now and need to figure out a way to get along (which, I was working on!). Or in my case, "get to know" because Pete doesn't appear to know me very well, or at least disregarded what he did!

It's all come back to him now, though. I made sure of it :)