Aggressive Aggression (1692-1701)

Zeb and I ran into Pamcakes at coffee this morning and she said “You think you only have twelve followers but I want you to know that I read each and every one of your posts. They’re hilarious!”

I gave Zeb a smug look and said, “Zeb wouldn’t know. He’s never read my blog. He doesn’t even know what it’s called even though I’ve told him a billion times.”

Pamcakes: “You’d be surprised at what a favorable a light she casts you in.”

Me: “I know! Each post is like a love letter, babe. I even make you seem interesting.”

My other friend, Harmy, wondered if it bothered me that Zeb doesn’t read my posts. “Yes, well no, okay maybe, but I have a plan!”

Zeb is ignoring my blog while I’m amassing a decent amount of good will. I mean, it’s not like he’s writing in a public forum how awesome I am, right? So the next time we have a big fight and it comes down to who appreciates the other more (or less, as the case may be) I pull this trump card out of my back pocket and be like, “In your FACE  Zeb! I have dated PROOF that I appreciate you. I’ve shouted it from the roof tops and you don’t even know it exists because you’ve never read my blog which is also evidence that you don’t care about my interior world.” Ooh. Sauvage.

Fuck passive aggression, this is aggressive aggression. My favorite kind.


Passive Aggressive


Aggressive Aggressive

I got all animated and was like, “I’m totally winning that fight. I can’t wait!” and Harmy was troubled that I was already planning my attack but I was all, “That’s how you win.”

But it’s true, I really appreciate Zeb, mostly when he’s asleep. And Cato. The two of them have been kicking some serious eBay ass. Every day I can see visible proof of their efforts. In fact, I can see the floor in my soon-to-be office sanctuary. I forgot about the carpet in there, I haven’t seen it for so long. I like that carpet.

This is stuff either on auction, trash, or to donate. This is all Zeb, Cato and Minion.

This is stuff either on auction, trash, or to donate. This is all Zeb, Cato and Minion.

Today was busy. I was in the pottery lab and then ran around town dropping off donations. A couple piddly things came out of the kiln that I’m happy about. At least they worked. These are little porcelain tea service vessels for my new office. Only the worthy may have tea with me in my sanctuary. You know who you are. 

IMG_1619 IMG_1620 IMG_1621

I’m going a little limp today and calling it at ten file folders and this stuff:


The pint glasses are up for grabs.

One baggie has round marbles, the other has flattened marbles. Both would be good for a fish tank or floral arrangements. We collected these to take to our favorite hot springs. We thew them in the water and the kids would dive for “treasure” but then we discovered that some would break and become jagged so now Zeb picks up polished stones at garage sales for the same purpose. The marbles are FREE.

I found the costume costume jewelry in a mug in the kitchen. Go figure. They are going to my friend’s daughters. We’re having dinner with them tomorrow and they are going FREAK OUT . I would have died to have stuff like this as a kid.

4 thoughts on “Aggressive Aggression (1692-1701)

  1. What goes around comes around! The 12 of you out there need to know that Viv stubbornly refused to read ANY of my wonderful stories, including an account of one of my high points, “A conversation with God.” So I’m, like totally behind Zeb. Stand firm! (Signed) Viv’s Dad.

    • Um, read it. And I clicked on all the videos and stories about your brushes with God (as long as he came in the form of a Italian “spokesmodel”). In your face! But, as a sullen teen, I got far more cache out of not reading your God story than by actually reading it. My purpose was, and still is, to torture you.

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