Valedictorian

Brett is very much like Dooce, in that he HAS to be valedictorian of everything (well, okay, he was salutatorian in high school, but there was some corruption involved there). But unlike Dooce, he likes to do as little as possible, and still be valedictorian.

In college, Brett and I took a lot of the same classes. I worked so hard in Earth Science--read the chapters every night, memorized the class notes, agonized over my quizzes, and studied tirelessly before tests...and I failed every single one. Somehow (probably by the grace and mercy of dear Chuck), I passed the class with a C-. Brett occasionally did some homework and studied just enough that he would get an A on EVERYTHING. Which meant that the entire semester, he studied about one tenth what I did EVERY NIGHT.

He is still extremely bitter about the A- he received in Humanities. That class was a straight up joke. We wrote half-page essays on random topics ("Give me a half a page on art by Thursday" or "I'd like a couple paragraphs on Aristotle by next Tuesday"...seriously?). We had one final paper. No tests, no quizzes. We didn't even have real grades. He would just give us a + or - on the top of our essays. If he really liked it, maybe a +++, or if he wasn't sure, a +-. At the end of the year, I am entirely convinced that he just matched names to letter grades, because he didn't know a single person's name in the class.

Brett's A- in Humanities is the only grade less than an A he received in his entire college career. Which means he graduated with something like a 3.995 or something ridiculous. And he did a total of maybe three hours of homework in two years.

All of this to say I finally convinced Brett to donate blood with me back in March. It was his first time, so he was sort of excited when he finally received his blood donor card in the mail--mostly because he wanted to know what type of blood he has.

Well, to the shock of absolutely no one, his blood type is A positive. Yes, he has A+ blood.

My husband is the valedictorian of having blood.

What the Dooce?

I’ve decided to join the thousands of other bloggers and chime in on the Dooce situation. I’m not one of the mean commentators who is laughing maniacally at this, saying I saw it coming. I didn’t. Or if I did, I didn’t want to. I feel sorry for both Heather and Jon. I feel sorry that their separation is happening so painfully publicly. Of course, the fact that they have both worked from home for several years, bought their dream home, and have sponsors pay them to design their dream home with sponsor products is a result of making their lives so public. So yes, while they want privacy for themselves and their children in this difficult time, it’s hard for the public, especially their readers, to give them that luxury. Their readers are screaming, “We bought you your house! Tell us why you’re separating!!” (Those exclamation points are for Dooce. You’re welcome!)

I hate divorce. It’s that simple. I hate that it happens, and I hate that people cause it. Infidelity, conflict, “irreconcilable differences,” it doesn’t matter (I will put abuse in an entirely justified category—that’s not what I’m addressing here).

One reason it bothers me so much is that it’s so popular and trendy to say you’re “marrying your best friend.” Yes, I probably said that. Heather and Jon said that. Everyone says it. It’s cute and hip to marry your best friend. Does that mean you divorce your best friend? Or do they stop being your best friend before that point?

I’ve had a ton of conflicts, jealousy, anger, etc. toward my best friends from both high school and college. And yet, they’ve never stopped being my best friend. I don’t think we could ever have “irreconcilable differences.” If we had them, we never would have become best friends in the first place.

Back to Heather and Jon Armstrong. I hope this is just a separation and not divorce. However, it’s not looking that way. Jon is buying furniture, having their children (oh, those poor, sweet children) sleep over at his apartment. He’s looking for a new job, getting seriously into photography. Would he go back to Heather if she asked? Just for the kids—or would he want to?

The man is amazing. He’s dealt with his wife’s mental illness, book deals, travel schedule, launch into internet fame—while working quietly behind the scenes to keep her incredibly successful website up and running smoothly, while simultaneously putting up with a woman with a certified mental illness. And having their entire relationship broadcasted on her blog.

If the Armstrongs were to divorce, I would have thought it would have been after Heather checked herself into a mental hospital for post-partum depression and suicidal thoughts, way back in the mid-2000s. Instead, he brought their infant daughter to see her every day, despite battling his work for the time off. Heather was a stay-at-home mom (or work-at-home mom) then, with an infant. And she contemplated hanging herself with a dog’s leash in their garage. She had a serious mental illness and needed help. But if there was ever a time to leave someone, Jon could have made his break. She was endangering his daughter!—he could have walked away then. But he didn’t. He stayed, which is what made all of us think they really could last forever.

I’ve been reading Dooce, and occasionally Jon’s blog at Blurbomat, on and off since high school. I feel like I know them. I feel like I’ve grown up with them, and this separation feels as real as if a friend was facing this. Of course, I’m dying to know the details--any reader who says they aren't is lying. Obviously we're obsessed with reading intimate details of the lives of people we've never met--of course we're interested in your scandal!

So what did he do so wrong? They will likely never tell us, but I’m much more interested in that than Heather’s current saga of growing out her hair.

So for the love of sweaty goat balls, tell us already!!!!!!!