He says, She says

So much. Oh, so much.

First and foremost I have to admit a thing that I hope is contagious and spreads rampant across the land. The chatter. Infectious. Inspiring. Whether on facebook or blog, in person, whatever- it is fantastic. I hope I continue along this path, and also, that I look around and see that it is not the one less traveled. I feel like a child. I feel the excitement and swirling of energy that I remember from childhood. It's growing. Growing is giving me an intense giddiness. I am not a static, flat character in a plot going nowhere. I have opened up, sort-of publicly, with an intention to learn and pursue knowledge about most any and everything but focus on really key issues that are a driving force behind my motivations to live and do it well. I have been on the path, with Nick, our whole relationship, but since the last few years, we have become even more devoted and aggressive with gathering information. He reads fast, talks well, and debates like a champion, especially face to face; he's so calm. I read slowly, but thoroughly, talk pretty well when relaxed or am half a glass into a vodka-tonic, but write better than I speak and process my thoughts in a more pleasing fashion on paper. I am amused by how my husband thinks. His brain amazes me. He retains so much. He reads book after book about pretty complicated subject matter and processes it with understanding, so he collects and doesn't let the information drift through, in and then out again. I am fascinated with what he learns and how. He is an arrow. Sharp, straight to the point, direct, precise and rapid. I am probably more like a shotgun firing its shell. I try and spread out, while remaining focused in one direction, but ultimately taking up more space with bits and pieces of this thought and that one, collectively making a cohesive belief. I am in different parts of the brain at the same time and hope to hit target, take it down, leaving no holes of hypocrisy, no chance of avoiding contact with the truth in the end. My construction of a thought is to send out many, surround, and with synchronicity, come together to the point. His, I believe, is to pull back, gain power, and release it, propelling his mind straight toward the concept and pierce it. So, what I'm saying is, I learn a lot from him, because his brain works differently than mine. He is practical. I am dreamy. He thinks of systems. I think of concept and beliefs. He thinks and processes numbers, facts, figures, sources- quickly and accurately. I am more concerned with what it all means put together and I want a solution and to spend my time on solution-oriented thinking only, taking time to brew and stir and never let up. He is fair-minded to the point of being annoying with it. I think I am fair-minded too, but maybe not as much as he... but I'm not sure I'm the best source on that one, I'd need to ask him if he agrees. He is witty and being Libra can argue very, very well. I am not funny; have a strange sense of humor; what I find funny is not overt, but subtle, witty remarks and expressions; so his humor pleases me enormously, and I, being Aquarius, can argue pretty darn well too. So, we, as the zodiac describes, can use our weaponry to really put on a showdown. Man, do I love it!! We do not submit to one another! Thank God. We do not, nor do we expect that kind of passive behavior, and we both appreciate that quality in one other. It thrusts us into new territory. If I said to my brain, "Make a bird in an artistic way. Capture its intricate nature." I would probably try origami with its complexity and many folds gradually making the intricate bird or oils, using layer upon layer. He would probably say ok, grab a great camera, go into the woods, track down the beautiful, intricate bird and take a photo of it. He would have gone to the source, directly, found the bird. I would have imagined it.

Interesting.

I asked him one day while I was downstairs in the kitchen and he was upstairs in our bedroom (sound travels with no problem in our house), "Hey, Nick. Am I hard to live with?" Silence. Ha. He was thinking 'Oh, shit. This is a trick.' He finally responded, "What? What do you mean hard to live with?" So, I arranged my words a smidgen differently, "Am I a difficult person to live with?"

His answer- "No. Not at all, why do you ask?" (This still surprises me actually, because I think it's hard living with me, myself.)

"Because, I don't think I'm the easiest person. I think I might be difficult to live with."

He said, "Beth, do you think I would rather you be mindless? Easy because you're a zombie?"

Fuzzy feeling in my tummy. He gives me jitters because of that. His way of treating me like I'm precious and special is so very appreciated. His way of treating me like I'm capable, a mental equal, and punching back in the argument arena is appreciated too. He's a handsome guy- in my eyes, he's flat out hot. He's naturally athletic, really good at sports and at using that mind-body connection and the 'zoning out' one has to use to be great at a sport. He's got that. He's good at many, but on the golf course, he is, to me, amazing. I watch in awe. He's confident, poised, intelligent. He speaks several languages and knows every leader of every nation on the top of his head. When I say where is this place or that? He responds with a geographical location, its neighboring countries, a bit about the culture and a bit about the political environment. His brain and our conversations and what I learn from that man is what turns me on and allows our bond to strengthen. We are intellectually and emotionally invested in one another. What beats that? He has good questions and good thoughts and answers. Learning and discussion is the most attractive part of our relationship to me because I find it sexy. Really, really sexy. He owns his mind.

He's at the golf course now. I am home writing. We went to a Christmas party last night that was incredible. We got home at about 2:30 AM and woke up this morning laughing at how crazy everyone was acting at the end of the night. Truly wonderful. It was such a sophisticated party. The decorations were out of this world and they were set in an already beautiful home. It was a featured home on the Edenton Christmas Tour of Homes, and she, the hostess, transitioned from tour to party, and by the time we arrived, the house was full of nicely dressed people happy and buzzing. After the crowd thinned, we, or I, asked permission to invite Jay Z to the party. That was such a welcomed idea that my friend, the host, immediately found him and not two minutes later Mr. Z was rocking the party to a new beat. We spent the last few hours dancing and laughing and acting sort-of stupid. It was so much fun. My favorite moment was when a friend, who is sassy and seductively twirls her hair and really works it when she dances, throwing her head back and laughing as she does, went to the threshold of a door in front of her husband and proceeded to turn, grab the door frame, twirl her hair in a remarkably rock-video-worthy sort of way, and then she flung her head back and arched still holding the door frame. It was really impressive and would have been classic, but her hand slipped suddenly and she busted it. Which was just routinely amusing and normal to all of us drunken friends that were in some alternate world together. Her husband smiled and sweetly reached down to pick her up and said, "Oh, honey, are you hurt?" She looked up, with her chin dipped like she had just fallen from a swing set, and said, "No. Just my feelings." It was such a precious southern accent and drawl and the fact that she admitted her feelings were hurt about it was the cutest thing. My other friend, meanwhile, was cutting loose completely and her new dance, the vacuum cleaner, she somehow managed to make really street-wise and hip. She looked really good doing it. This was accompanied with huge hiccups. "Hiccup." And then Nick would say "Hey (pronounced Haaayeee)" every time she did, so it sounded like a weird remix on the rap song playing. It was all really funny. The polka dotted dog, Delta, was then running mad circles around the rooms. Another friend occupied himself with oldies but goodies like the Roger Rabbit off to the side. And candlesticks had become microphones that transitioned from performance to one-on-one interviews on serious subjects like "Halle Berry or Salma Hayek?" and "In your opinion, is Valkyrie a good movie?" The confusion, inhibition, and overall friendship- priceless. One friend decided to be creepy and half-hide and stalk people that were sort-of strangers to him, all for amusement. Then, he disappeared and I don't know where he even went. I'll have to say- adults, this 30 and over range of people-Waaay more fun that the younger set. The conversation is better, the friendship is solid, and letting loose and having fun is done in down right better fashion.

I guess what I am getting to on this day is that for me, in every instance, it revolves around substance; real conversation, an authenticity of thought and feeling and relating to another, real expression and personality. It makes me feel alive, like I'm expanding and getting more out of life.

Quality.