Tartan Schmartan
Hi all. I'm on day 3 of 42 that I'll need to recover from a very complex hysterectomy. Complex because my uterus had attached itself to my bladder and intestines, and had to be carefully cut away from both. I also learned I have stage IV endometriosis, which was a complete shock. No one has ever said "endometriosis" to me in my life. I had a hard time coming out of anesthesia, pain that even 4 doses of fentanyl struggled to mask, and guys, I'm tired.
So apparently Sam was the grand poobah for Tartan Week. As you might imagine, I didn't even know. I was tagged several times to lip read interactions between him and whatever her name is (I genuinely don't know it) and the kid.
I'm so flattered to be thought of, but there's not only nothing here to work with, but this woman is a total non sequitur. And at best, her daughter was used as a prop.
Hard pass.
Even this exchange between Sam and Alex was a nothing sandwich:
Alex says something, Sam says: "Well, if I'm to go..." And Alex says something to the woman.
Can I ask a serious question:
Why do you care?
These two are not in a relationship, but you know that. Cait is at home with the kid(s), and he's being stage-managed in public.
Whatever little 1- to 3-word exchanges he and the woman had on the podium mean nothing. Her nervous tics of bouncing a medium-sized kid on her hip and rearranging her hair tell you everything you need to know:
1) They are dead weight and weren't given anything to do at this event, and
2) Their hearts aren't in it any more than his is.
Tag me when he and Cait are in the same frame. Til something worthwhile comes up, I'll be watching documentaries, reading, and recovering.
And yes, I was disgusted that he poured booze into women's open mouths. The sheer liability factor of doing so in this modern age makes him look like a blithering idiot.
