He has other charms ...
Jul. 16th, 2010 11:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I am not a Romantic.
For most of you reading this will come as no surprise to hear, since although I don't mind the odd bit of romance, Satire, Rationalism, Pragmatism and Grumpy Old Haggisism are terms that will more readily spring to mind. And this is largely because you have never seen me.
Because the problem is: my inside and outside do not match. I look like a figure dropped out of an historical painting (thanks to genetics), and dress like someone from a children's book (thanks to a fashion sense grounded in comedy). To the casual observer, I look the sort of person who has a large gold-framed mirror, a fainting couch and a velvet-lined box filled with old billets-doux.
In the past, this caused me some issues, particularly with men. Indeed, when I was a young lass, there were several who sent unsolicited billets-doux and only ceased after the third or fourth returned with corrections, style annotations and a suggested reading list. By much dint of effort I was able to convince my general acquaintance that I was a woman of practical taste and that it was of far more interest to me whether you could run ten miles and fix a saddle than quote Dante Gabriel Rosetti. Because I had horses and I hate the Pre-Raphaelite poets.
It is possible, however, that I may have taken things a little too far.
Yesterday was the 15th anniversary of my dalliance with Mr Brammers (we live in sin, but quite conventionally so). I had suggested we might go out somewhere and held a vague hope that he could have organised such a thing, perhaps even with a small token of affection, such as a book, or an orange-inked pen. When I staggered in late from work after 7, I half-hoped to be bundled back out the door on an Adventure. Instead, he was playing internet spaceships in his underwear.
Which is fine, he needs his relaxation time. So I suggested that I refresh myself and he come out as soon as he had finished this particular step in defending the galaxy and we head off to one of the many local eateries that can be relied on to provide good nosh without a booking. I had a little read, and a little sit-down, and by then it was 8pm. I popped my head back into the study, he apologised without looking around, his corps were in the middle of something complex and now was a bad time.
Being ever-resilient, I offered to go and gather foodstuffs for us from the local shops, which is how we ended up having fish and chips. I shared my salmon with the Monster cat, while Mr B shouted out that he would be out in a minute, they were nearly done. After completing my dinner, I returned to my book.
Some little time later, I noticed that he was quiet. Investigation revealed that he had gone for a little lie down. Obviously in preparation for significant efforts later in the evening, I assumed. Or ... as I was forced to conclude when he was still snoring at 1am and I had run out of things to knit, read, or comment about on the internet ... not.
So given it was Thursday, and hence bin night, I took the bins down for him (it's his job), had a shower and went to bed. Whereupon he threw an arm across my hips and snurfled something that may have been 'Luxembourg'.
Still, better than 15 years of bad poetry!
For most of you reading this will come as no surprise to hear, since although I don't mind the odd bit of romance, Satire, Rationalism, Pragmatism and Grumpy Old Haggisism are terms that will more readily spring to mind. And this is largely because you have never seen me.
Because the problem is: my inside and outside do not match. I look like a figure dropped out of an historical painting (thanks to genetics), and dress like someone from a children's book (thanks to a fashion sense grounded in comedy). To the casual observer, I look the sort of person who has a large gold-framed mirror, a fainting couch and a velvet-lined box filled with old billets-doux.
In the past, this caused me some issues, particularly with men. Indeed, when I was a young lass, there were several who sent unsolicited billets-doux and only ceased after the third or fourth returned with corrections, style annotations and a suggested reading list. By much dint of effort I was able to convince my general acquaintance that I was a woman of practical taste and that it was of far more interest to me whether you could run ten miles and fix a saddle than quote Dante Gabriel Rosetti. Because I had horses and I hate the Pre-Raphaelite poets.
It is possible, however, that I may have taken things a little too far.
Yesterday was the 15th anniversary of my dalliance with Mr Brammers (we live in sin, but quite conventionally so). I had suggested we might go out somewhere and held a vague hope that he could have organised such a thing, perhaps even with a small token of affection, such as a book, or an orange-inked pen. When I staggered in late from work after 7, I half-hoped to be bundled back out the door on an Adventure. Instead, he was playing internet spaceships in his underwear.
Which is fine, he needs his relaxation time. So I suggested that I refresh myself and he come out as soon as he had finished this particular step in defending the galaxy and we head off to one of the many local eateries that can be relied on to provide good nosh without a booking. I had a little read, and a little sit-down, and by then it was 8pm. I popped my head back into the study, he apologised without looking around, his corps were in the middle of something complex and now was a bad time.
Being ever-resilient, I offered to go and gather foodstuffs for us from the local shops, which is how we ended up having fish and chips. I shared my salmon with the Monster cat, while Mr B shouted out that he would be out in a minute, they were nearly done. After completing my dinner, I returned to my book.
Some little time later, I noticed that he was quiet. Investigation revealed that he had gone for a little lie down. Obviously in preparation for significant efforts later in the evening, I assumed. Or ... as I was forced to conclude when he was still snoring at 1am and I had run out of things to knit, read, or comment about on the internet ... not.
So given it was Thursday, and hence bin night, I took the bins down for him (it's his job), had a shower and went to bed. Whereupon he threw an arm across my hips and snurfled something that may have been 'Luxembourg'.
Still, better than 15 years of bad poetry!
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:04 pm (UTC)And I believe if either one of us tried to write poetry the other would die, considering it's hard to breathe around all that laughter.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:24 pm (UTC)I am allowed to write clerihews and limericks, if there is a good laugh in it ;-)
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:06 pm (UTC)And I love poetry. I'm just of the firm opinion that it shoud never be written by an amateur.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:27 pm (UTC)I am allowed to cheat on Mr Brammers with Simon Armitage or Seamus Heaney if they speak poetry at me. And, of course, David Tennant if he's anywhere in the vicinity ...
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:07 pm (UTC)His fleet was in such jeopardy on my birthday that he was unable to allow them leave hyperspace even for the time it took for a quickie.
Happy anniversary, darling.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:08 pm (UTC)Last year I sent him an email with the picture of an Iphone sporting my favorite color and I got it. I wonder if the same thing will happen if I send him a picture of a mini cooper :)
Happy living in sin anniversary!!
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:10 pm (UTC)Men are lost without us.
Congrats on the 15 years and I hope many more years to come. (Although, poke him for me for not taking you out. You should demand compensation.)
*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:39 pm (UTC)As to Mr Lizzy not turning on the lights and making mess, I think he cosplayed your holiday as a student!
*Hugs back!*
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:20 pm (UTC)Best wishes for many more years of comfort and joy together.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:21 pm (UTC)Also, I totally have a soft spot from Mr. Brammers in my heart. ;)
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 02:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 03:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 03:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 03:17 pm (UTC)we have been married for 18 years - this all sounds very familiar...
eta : how odd is it that I got a small thrill out of also having a Thursday bin night?
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 03:29 pm (UTC)It's not odd at all! I share your thrill and a sense that all the best people have a Thursday bin night.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 03:32 pm (UTC)Good thing they have so many other positive attributes! *g*
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 03:40 pm (UTC)And yes, they do score points back for the loyalty, comedy, bedwarming and getting things down off the top shelves ;-)
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 03:44 pm (UTC)Congratulations on your anniversary, hon. Fifteen years is fantastic. \0/
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 03:49 pm (UTC)And yes, it is good to know I am not alone, and I have to confess that I am quite dreadful when it comes to this sort of stuff, too, but I was rather hoping for a decent dinner. Or, you know, shag.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 03:47 pm (UTC)That deserves a phantom faulty computer connection for, oh, at least a week.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 03:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 05:02 pm (UTC)If I were you, I'd throw a hissy fit the next day, because I like my bit of drama, babe.
But he loves animals, right? Can't be all bad ;-)
Alles Gute zum Jahrestag :-)
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 05:12 pm (UTC)Albania or Malaysia might have been promising something he couldn't deliver at the time while Yemen could be grounds for a serious discussion.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 07:02 pm (UTC)It must be twue lurve.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 07:38 pm (UTC)now I remember my own shame at realising silly expectations, what with not even having the look or wardrobe
*squish*
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 09:46 pm (UTC)Congrats, dear, to you both!
&hearts
no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 10:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 10:22 pm (UTC)BBC3 Looking For Women who's partners are obsessed with gaming
Date: 2010-09-07 11:40 am (UTC)BRAND NEW BBC3 Series is looking for couples who are living together... But things aren’t exactly working out how the girlfriend wanted it to be…
Do you find it difficult living with your partner?
Has your perfect hunk turned into a lazy lump?
Does he spend more time romancing his games console than you?
If you're living with your partner but really want things to change then we'd like to hear from you!
Get in touch by email: living@renegadepictures.co.uk
or call us on 0207 449 3292
And please remember to include your name, age, contact details, a photo and a paragraph about you and your partner.