Okay, it's Friday, nobody is showing up in chat and Fii had this Meme on her blog. I hope she doesn’t think this gets her out of 100 things. I feel relentless bulldog coming on. And I will play like she did, answering for Ducky and me, both…
What are your middle names?
My middle name is Calista. Now here’s the thing. As if Calista isn’t different enough, I artistically added an accent to it when I went into radio. Who knows? I’ve no clue. Pinecone (my adorable sister,) says I suffer from identity crisis. Ducky on the other hand has a name little kids have problems saying, he is known to those who love him… and all little kids as RahRahRay – all one word. His middle name is Ray.
How long have you been together?
We met Easter Day 1992. My sister (Pinecone) and his cousin (the nutcase) set us up on a meet and greet Easter BBQ. Damn he was hot looking… and single WTF? I didn’t know nice guys really existed, and no I didn’t think he was nice because he was single or cute, I thought he was nice and shy. Ummm, hot.
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
One week later (and about 100 hours of phone conversation later) he asked me out.
Who asked whom out?
I am old school, I don’t call guys, I don’t ask them out…. And that is where it stops, I pay my own way…. Most of the time.
How old are each of you?
I'm 53, he's 56 (ooh, an older man :))
Whose siblings do you see the most?
Ducky and his siblings live in each other’s pockets. Me and my siblings were raise to be independent. I know that sounds strange, I love my sibs they are in my mind and my heart all the time, but I don’t have to see or talk to them constantly for them to know that. Ducky sees his sisters at least once or twice a week (and they live 60 miles away or more) – because he stays with one of them two nights a week. When you live 80 miles from work, having a sister or two around helps. A LOT.
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Hmmm, I don’t know if I have an answer for that one. Really we have been pretty blessed. We’ve been through the financially hard times, the children hard times, parents dying, his brother dying but we have been able to lean on each other, support each other, and share. And the distance he commutes makes us appreciate our time together more.
Did you go to the same school?
Oh gracious no. That would have been interesting. I was a bad ass bitch (read: outsider fresh from California and resented for it, who didn’t fit in) who hung with the smokers in the parking lot. He was a sweet faced rowdy boy (nothing too bad) who liked way younger or way older women. I went to La Mirada & Siuslaw, he went to Churchill.
Are you from the same home town?
No. He is born and raised Oregonian (third generation.) I was a California (third generation) Surfer girl who moved to Oregon in her Junior year. He lived in Eugene, I moved to Florence (aka heaven on earth.)
Who is smarter?
I think that is a toss up. He is good at some things, I am good at logical things. He has the patience to do woodworking, I have the patience to fix his rototiller. And I’ve got this really weird memory. Weird. He thinks I kick ass at Jeopardy – I know I would get my ass kicked on Jeopardy.
Who is the most sensitive?
I think we both are. But I cry, like today when I played the song Help Pour Out The Rain. Stupid.
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
We have three or four restaurants in our small town that we go to. In Florence his favorite is Aztalan Mexican Restaurant, mine is China Bay. If we get to go to Eugene we both love Mongolian Grill.
Where is the farthest you have traveled together?
Together – ha ha. LA, he hates flying. But this year we are going to Vegas, and then car touring Arizona.
Who has the craziest exes?
He has the craziest Ex. My exes are livable; his is one of those “the world revolves around me” wackos.
Who has the worst temper?
He definitely does. I’m usually a slow boil, kaboom. He is just kaboom – or as I often say, he gets road rage when he puts the key in the car door.
Who does the cooking?
Men cook? My husband can’t even BBQ water.
Who is the neat-freak?
I believe there is a place for everything and everything in its place. I know where I put things. He accuses me of misplacing his stuff… his keys, his hammer, his hat, his level, his drill, his miter saw…get my drift? My daughter claims I am OCD… Truth, I’m not that neat.
Who is more stubborn?
Oh mi gawd, him. But he realizes it. And hold a grudge… ooooh doggie
Who hogs the bed?
I don’t think either one of us hogs the bed; my hot flashes broke me of it.
Who wakes up earlier?
He does, the poor man drives 80 miles to work… one way, so he’s up at 4am to be to work by 7am. Even on weekends he wakes up at 3 or 4 watches some TV (can’t get enough of those Killer Clowns from Outer Space) and then goes back to bed.
Where was your first date?
In Eugene, he took me out to Farman’s Chinese. Then to a movie, White Men Can’t Jump, and then we spent four or five hours in my sister’s hot tub. The poor man had to work the next morning (I didn’t know that.)
Who is more jealous?
Neither one of us are jealous. I don’t understand jealousy, and he’s just not jealous.
How long did it take to get serious?
Hmmmm, we met on April 19th, had our first date April 25th, he moved in June 19th. Hmmm, I think we took our time.
Who eats more?
At one sitting him, but if you count my constant grazing and noshing, Me. And I’m the one with the two zip code butt to prove it.
Who does the laundry?
Men do laundry? WTF? When did this happen? Married three times and none of them did laundry after we got together. Of course in Ducky’s defense, I don’t change the oil in the car either. But hey neither did Ex 1 or Ex 2, so what was their excuses?
Who's better with the computer?
Ha, ha, I don’t think he can turn either one on. Of course he doesn’t want to either.
Who drives when you are together?
Women are allowed to drive when their husband is in the car? WTF? When did this happen? No really, when we went on our honeymoon- total road rage in Frisco. I thought we had an agreement, he drives country and I-5; I drive cities. Apparently not, he demands to do all the driving hence I ridicule him when he gets roadrage.
Me: “What do you mean #@!!## Driver? He drives just like you.”
Now his response is, “Everybody knows, when I get in the car, I own the road. End of story.”
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