How To Fix A Marriage In Three Days -- Part II

Tuesday, Apr. 25, 2006, 3:49 p.m.

It should be noted that when you put several dysfunctional couples in a room together with one moderator who is encouraging them to "talk about what makes [them] angry," the ensuing conversation will be a whole pile of passive-aggressive fun.

Today was Anger Management Day in our marriage class, which meant that we got to go around the room and talk about our spouses (and everyone else in our lives) and what they do to make us want to throw them off of tall buildings.

In order to communicate our points better, we were each given a piece of paper and some crayons (yes, crayons. My inner kindergartener fairly leapt for joy) and told to draw one scenario in which we became angry.

*Side note: I forgot to take my camera with me, so I do not have a visual representation of Husband's drawing to show you. I will say, however, that it included me, a tiny fairy, and the words, "I like to listen to gay music!" -- all elements of an artistic masterpiece.

Although the drawing in and of itself was pretty therapeutic (I drew Husband in red, with a giant gut and tiny calves), my favorite part was when everyone else showed and explained their pictures.

For example, one woman drew a picture of two people.

"This," she pointed to a stick figure standing in a kitchen, "is me last night, cooking chicken, beans and mashed potatoes for my husband for dinner. This [pointing to the other stick figure] is my husband, bringin' home Chinese take-out."

A chorus of "Oh no he di-in't!" and "I hope you didn't give him no chicken!" filled the room.

(For the record: no, she did not give him no chicken.)

One of the men drew a large face, side-view (himself), with a massive hand covering it from the jaw to just above the eyebrow.

"That's what makes me mad," he stated.

Another woman picked up her picture.

"Here's my three kids, and here's me trying to get them ready for school in the morning. And here is my husband, laying on the bed and watching TV, holding the remote, asking me if I'm ready to go yet."

There were many more fabulous drawings and stories ("and here's my cell phone after he threw it out into the road and it got run over"), and a good time was had by all. And I think that maybe you guys are right -- if we can laugh at our peers together, there may be hope for us yet.

In other news, I finally got my car back from the fucking bastard towing yard, although I can't drive it until I get my license reinstated, and I can't get my license reinstated until Thursday, because I'm in Don't-Beat-Your-Spouse Class from 9 a.m. to 4(ish) p.m. until then.

I would have gone to the DMV Saturday, but apparently the state of Georgia observed Confederate Memorial Day (which, yes. I know. But it seems some still believe the South will rise again), so all government businesses were closed that day.

Anyway, things seem to be going all right, except that I am hungry, so I am going to go ahead and take care of that right this minute.

Thanks for all the love, by the way -- even though I haven't had much of a chance to read diaries these days, I hope you all know that I totally adore you and your wonderful comments and e-mails and existence.

In other words ... rock the fuck ON.