Saturday Eggs

The medium is McDonald's ketchup on omelette, more specifically omu raisu or rice omelette. For those who don't read Japanese, it reads baka which can be translated many ways, but the sentiment here was "asshole".

Barely 24 hours into the new living situation, and we'd already had a fight - well more of a misunderstanding. In the wise words of Trey, my wax guy, the key to a successful relationship is communication. Sounds easy enough, right? I came home Friday night, moments after being given choice advice from Trey, with my knuckles looking like this, only with a lot more blood leaving a nice little trail through the lobby and into the lift.


No sweat - Danny, a bottle blond 50-something and his partner Piet, a 6-foot 5 Dutch dude of similar age offered to clean up the blood. They were in the lift, and noticed the blood in the first place. I was trying to hide it from Ali, but not after the fuss Danny made. As you can see, I'm a Southpaw. Looks fine now, but the camera doesn't show the internal bruising.

I'm not exactly sure why, maybe it was because of something I said when I was trying to fix a plaster, but Ali started sobbing. I knew her rules - no fighting in front of her, no raising my voice, etc. which is why I tried to hide the blood in the first place - but she had never seen me throw the punch and I spoke calmly the entire time after we left the lift, so as far as I was concerned, she really had nothing to worry about. Well, I spent the rest of the night apologizing and trying to get her to say SOMETHING. The next morning, I was reminded of the other, very new rule. Only normal violence, idiot! Whatever that means. I guess what she was trying to say was that I can only fight if someone hits me first or if I'm trying to remove her from imminent danger, or if we happen to be at a WTO protest and somebody lobs in some CS gas because they think it might make things more fun. Effectively, she was telling (by not telling me, but otherwise communicating to) me that no violence would be tolerated because the chances of our being in the proximity of any civil unrest are negligible.

I guess we're back to normal now because she woke me up with a bit of pressure on my left hand and a very loud, clearly enunciated "Nutella! I want Nutella for breakfast, Snowflake - no crusts!"