This is one of my favorite scenes from one of my all time favorite sitcoms, Seinfeld. This is where Elaine realizes that - horrifying enough - she might have become just like George. Some background: Elaine had been working for a very successful publishing company; George has been unemployed for several years and living with his parents. However, since George decides to do the opposite of every inclination or instinct he has, he has started to become successful, while Elaine seems to have slipped into his role.
This relates to Kristie and I because we tend to be total opposites. I'm a total random abstract and she's totally concrete sequential. If she wants some thing accomplished, she does it. I, on the other hand, tend to talk about it. Let it sit for awhile. Talk about it some more. Wait longer. And then maybe, maybe get around to it.
However, this weekend was a bit of a reversal for us.
First, we went to visit Gail in Mayville. Now, when I drive, I daydream and hardly see the miles as they pass. If you give me directions, I'll get lost. If you give me street names or highway numbers, I'll get lost. I'm more of a "turn right at the big red barn with the John Deere up on blocks in the front yard" type of guy (I never go to Goodridge, so I don't know why anyone would ever give me directions like that though . . .).
Last fall Kristie and I were heading to Mayville and trying to find a more efficient route. I was driving and Kristie had me on the lookout for a certain road sign. When we finally came to it, Kristie had to shout, "There it is! Turn!"
Sure enough, there was the sign - plain as day.
"What were you looking at?" she asked.
And I had to admit, "I was thinking how cool all of those crows looked as they took flight from that corn field." Of course, the cornfield was in the background of the sign, and I totally missed the sign.
Well, last week Kristie was talking and suddenly pulled into the turning lane at Climax (we turn at Neilsville on our more efficient route).
"What am I doing?" she said as she caught herself.
I know, dear readers, that seems like no big deal. But when she never makes a mistake like that, you have to take it when you can!
Of course, she would trump that later when we tried to put Gail's fire pit together for her.
Now, I'll freely admit, I'm no do-it-yourselfer. I'm more of a put-it-off-yourselfer-and-maybe-someone-else-will-do-it-for-you type of person.
Whenever we need to hang something or screw something on, and I descend into the basement to get my drill, and it is NEVER a good sign. I swear that I have stripped the head of EVERY screw I've ever attempted to drill in my life. My excuse, of course, is that I use those cheap screws that come with whatever I'm trying to hang or put together. But as Kristie astutely observes, "They all can't be that bad!" (Her suggestion to avoid this is to put more pressure on the drill and just zap the screw into the wall. But as soon as I put a modicum of pressure on it, screw will go flying across the room. I'm cursed.)
As I've said in the past, there is rarely an English major emergency. So when I have to resort to working with tools . . . well, it ain't pretty.
However, the fire pit was a total disaster. This is mostly because she tried to assemble it my way: looking at the picture on the box rather than thoroughly examining the directions (that is usually her way). I'll spare you the details, but we attempted to assemble it, realized we had the first band on wrong and had to take it all apart. We got that straightened out to realize that the second band wouldn't fit. We took it all apart again, only to realize the top ring wouldn't line up right, so we had to loosen all the nuts and disassemble a couple other things before finally getting it together.
And the third - and best - incident happened this morning in the back yard.
Now, let me preface this with a confession - often times I'm not the most graceful. I'll trip, slip, and plain old just fall. A lot. If some article of clothing can catch on a door handle or door knob or odd nail sticking out a millimeter, it will. I'm cursed.
However, this morning we had Kenzie out with the dogs in the back yard. Kenze was kicking around a soccer ball with Kozy when Kristie tried to kick it for Kozy to fetch.
Well, it didn't work out that way. For some reason she seemed to be stepping on the ball. With both feet. Rather than kicking it. Suddenly, she was like one of those guys who used to run on those river logs while they spun in circles. Only Kristie was losing this battle. Before I knew it, she landed square on her keester with her arms and legs in the air.
She took it well and was laughing harder than I was. We both, though, weren't laughing just at the accident. We were also laughing because this type of stuff never happens to her.
She looked at me and said, "It's like Elaine in Seinfeld when she says she's becoming George."
Maybe things will turn around for me too!
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