Being the Other Person in a Room.

In case you thought you were going to escape with just a short post tonight, you are a foolish foolish person. Though even my wife looks at my posts and decides she just isn't going to spend the time to read them.

My dear friend who got me in to blogging, and in no small part lead to my wife starting her own, is giving me a hard time for bugging him about watching Buffy, and also about not posting his reviews in a timely fashion. He gives a passable excuse about a final in some graduate level databases class he's been using as an excuse all semester. But I just think he needs more encouragement from people who aren't me. Go see what he has to say about season 2 so far and bug him to tell us more.

In more subject related news. I just spent the afternoon in what is a quarterly event for my wife and I. We went to her doctor and talked about how things are going. It's highly unusual to spend any significant amount of time in a room with only two other people, who are discussing a topic I am personally very interested in, and not be talking a lot. Oh sure, polite people do this all the time. Non-6'6" people might be used to this as well. But I am not. It's uncommon for me to be somewhere, interested in a subject, and the least frequent speaker. This is good practice for me. Generally I'm that guy, the one who answers the question in class when everyone else is too cool to raise their hand. The one that if a meeting is going to conclude with no question asked, asks the question everyone else wants to ask, but assumes would be rude.

So when I sit in that room and I merely provide alternate perspective or fill in information in a supervisory capacity. It's a change of pace. I think I do okay, though you could definitely ask my wife and see what she thinks when she gets up from her nap. It can be rather fun at times though. It's like a bad sitcom. The doctor will ask a question and my wife will give an answer that is not entirely in keeping with the truth of the matter. It may very well be her perspective on the situation, but in these cases, it is my solemn duty to either shake my head in an exaggerated way or nod it similarly to catch the doctor's attention and convince him that my wife is full of crap.

Apparently this is a common phenomena. That being the case, I feel better committing the sin of disagreeing with my spouse. Wait, that's not a sin, it's disagreeing with my wife. It's perfectly okay for wives to loudly and agressively disagree with their husbands in public, but God forbid a man do the same thing. Untold furies of hell will lash out at the man that makes that mistake. But apparently a doctor's office is a place where this universal constant comes unravelled. I think they must make the room in a Faraday Cage of sorts or something, in any case, the laws of relationship-time do not seem to apply the same way inside that office. And I have experimented, it doesn't matter if the door is closed, cracked, or wide open.

This must be in correllary to the good advice law. Any good advice from me to my wife will be derided and considered foolish or misled. The same advice, if uttered out of the mouth of either set of parents is sensible and wise council. At least I get to think to myself that I told her so. Hmmm, I'm thinking I either have to write another six paragraphs to ensure my wife never reads this entry, or I should just stop now and hope she reads it while groggy and doesn't quite realized that we're out of that protected space that is the doctor's office.