For some reason Sean thinks I portray him as this really meanie-headed boyfriend that I have to put up with.
“Thanks for making me look like a total Jerk Face McGee in your blog.”
That’s my version of what he says.
He only says that on the rare chance that he actually reads it. He has more important things to do, you know. Like level up on the most recent video game he’s started.
All this is to say that this blog is (obviously) written from my point of view. And sometimes I have a tendency to exaggerate.
Case in point:
Sean plays video games one million hours a night.
This is not true because there are not that many hours in a night, and because Sean only plays video games when I’m not there or when I expressly say that I don’t mind if he plays them when I’m there.
We’re pretty good about respecting what each other wants. I know he wants to level up the cupcake-haired little kid on Breath of Fire 3000 (or whatever number), and he knows I want to write in my blog, or read my favorite magazines.
When I come home on a violent rampage from Atlanta traffic (I’ve gotten better about being less furious at other people who are just trying to get home, too), he’ll turn the game off to listen to me vent/scream and catch the things I throw across the room before they hit the walls (we live in an apartment, you know).
So, just in case Sean is reading this blog, and just in case you all out there thought Sean was a gremlin (Charlie Sheen has ruined Tolkien-esque fantasy characters for me now. No, Sheen, you’re not even as cool as a warlock.), rest assured that he’s mostly the nicest guy you’ll ever know.
Also he fixed a computer I messed up at work before my boss even got in to work one morning. He’s like a phantom virus-remover.
I like him.