Survey Says:

I found this luvy-duvy questionnaire on another blogger's website and I thought I'd take a swing at it. Because this will be far more interesting than another "GAWD I'M SO DEPRESSED" entry. Don't you agree?

What are your middle names?
Kristin and Michael
How long have you been together?
12.5 years
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
Ages. We met in college while he dated my best friend. He joined the Marines. They stopped corresponding, he and I continued corresponding… before long he was sending me roses for my birthday and taking his precious leave to visit me instead of his parents. After his obligation he chose to attend the university in my city so we could be together.
Voila. Ze rest, eet ees heestory.
Who asked whom out?
He clearly did the majority of the pursuing, while I was still interested in him I felt horrible about nurturing a relationship with my best friend’s ex. She came to our wedding though and we’re all still totally happy about how it turned out – so no drama there.
How old are each of you?
32
Whose siblings do you see the most?
Mine, because we all live in the same state and because my brother has the most beautiful and brilliant baby girls in history. We try to visit the rest of the family on the holidays or in the summers as much as possible.
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
My job instability is killing the romance, to be sure. It’s hard that he’s still in school and I can’t seem to hold a job. This too shall pass though, right? Right?
Did you go to the same school?
No, then yes, then no. We grew up in different states, then I went to Coe College in Iowa. My second year started with his first semester there. ‘Course, then he got all Marin’ated so it was just that one semester that started it all and afterward he finished his degree in my homestate, neither at a school I had attended nor in Iowa.
Are you from the same home town?
Nope. His home town is a big fancy capitol city that will lead the nation to new heights of modern environmentalism. Mine’s a tiny brown tourist trap in a valley choked by ski-traffic.
Who is smarter?
He is. Hands down. He’s the one doing bleeding-edge research and pursuing his PhD. I’m the one lamenting my lack of honest technical certifications and trying to claw my way back into an administrative position until I can catch a break and either become the trainer I’m destined to be or win the lottery. Plot twist: I don't buy lottery tickets.
Yeah, he’s the smartypants in this family. Totally. Hands down.
Who is the most sensitive?
Me. I’m the emotional equivalent of a champagne flute in the dryer. These days, anything can break me. He’s the emotional equivalent of horseradish. He’s punchy, loads of people love him, and his flavor will never change. Give him a battlestar galactica sticker, you get a “hey, cool”. Give him a million bucks, you get a “hey, cool”.
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
We don’t eat out so much these days, but when we’re eating food that neither of us has cooked we get pizza. We do burger-nights sometimes at chain restaurants, and otherwise on movie nights we go to Chipotle or Qdoba.
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Iceland
Who has the craziest exes?
Well, he has a stalker from his time as an undergrad – and she’s pretty unbalanced. She’s not an ex though since they never ever dated (because in his words: ew). The only ex I know about, I adore and miss terribly and hope she and her husband find a way to move out and live closer to us instead of in Iowa. For my exes, I have some REALLY unhinged ex gal-pals… but all of my historical interludes have either ended well or completely. None of the dudes are really crazy. Some of those gal-pals though, gragh! Sorry m’ladies… you know who you are.
Who has the worst temper?
He swears a blue streak when he drops an egg. I flash to red kindof unpredictably… but far more rarely. It’s like, he gets it all out (and then some) all the time over little things. I get it all out over little things too, but only after tons of big things have gone down and built up and pushed me over the edge. That’s when I start throwing down the big words and the insults and crap. For tempers, we’re pretty evenly matched though we’ve never ever had an argument that got worse than “Lost is about Aliens”, “don’t be dense, it’s clearly about purgatory.”
Who does the cooking?
I do, though that’s just because I like to have dinner before 10pm. It's not like I'm any good at it or anything. He gets home late and exhausted from long days at the lab. I get home pursuant to business hours (whenever I like, have a job, that is) and therefore am also exhausted but have a few hours' head start to stare at the freezer and try to concoct a meal that won’t suck. So far the sucktastic meals have been getting better and the rare treat meal that works out well has been getting healthier. I guess I’m learning, but I’m nowhere near knowing how to cook stuff with like, the bones still in or anything that ever had fins.
Who is the neat-freak?
Him him him him him. I’m the slob. I’m the bachelor slob with no instinct for tidiness. At home anyway… at work I’m all over it because it’s just one desk, you know? At home… I’m like Lister from Red Dwarf. Mmmm. Red Dwarf. Poor fella. I'm sure my beloved is hoping I’ll see the light any day now and start doing things like dusting and scrubbing and throwing away the huge piles of papers over there… hope springs eternal.
Who is more stubborn?
We’re both Olympians when it comes to being passively stubborn. Outright though, we’re both as stubborn as jell-o.
Who hogs the bed?

He does. He’s a cuddlebug and he’s a nuclear furnace. That means I get to stay warm all night until I get too hot and then we spend the rest of the night skootching in my direction until I wake up with the mattress piping-seam buried in my hip. He is also prone to sleeping motionless like a crime-scene corpse all night, so when he roots into his spot on THOSE nights, it doesn’t matter what kind of realestate is left… I’m not getting to any of it. He’ll plant his exhausted self square in the center with one knee going that way and one elbow going the other way and it’s just kinda game=over after that.
I guess it’s fair then that I sleep with my hand on my face… meaning that my elbow regularly slops over and clobbers him on the head as my muscles twitch and fidgit.
Who wakes up earlier?
When I’m working, I do. By hours. When I’m not working… he does. By hours.
Where was your first date?

Um… is it too saccharine to say I’m kinda still on it? That “he’s really neat” feeling hasn’t quite ever worn off. We didn’t do a lot of the typical dat-ey date stuff, but we went to a lot of movies and had lots of awesome date nights while I lived in my apartment and he lived in his on campus.
Who is more jealous?
Neither of us has a speck of jealousy. Neither of us has ever felt the need for it. He could be in the lab on Hooters-Tuesday while the unbuttoned women massage his shoulders and feed him doughnuts – and I wouldn’t worry for a second about it. He’d be so uncomfortable, and he’d come home to me and tell me now funny it was that his buddies did this or that or some other thing. He’d never betray me, I’d never betray him. It’s why we got married – because we know that we have choices we’ll have to make and we know that, ultimately, the choices we make we’ll make for the “us” instead of the “me”.
‘course, all bets are off when it comes to the kitty. We both get a little green when kittycat seems to be spending her lurve on one of us more than the other.
How long did it take to get serious?

Roughly two thousand and four years after Jesus got tortured to death. Give or take.
Who eats more?
He does. He also eats more veggies. He’s the one who went through boot camp, after all. We have a rule when dishing up dinner…. Serve him up three times of whatever it is I’m getting one of. Typically, that’s a solid equation that’s working out okay. I’m a small eater most of the time, so it’s not like he’s ten thousand pounds.
Who does the laundry?
We both struggle with this. I feel like I start the most loads, he feels like he ends up finishing what I’ve started. The, after a few weeks, we have a “laundry party” and pile all the clean clothes on the bed and we put our own stuff away while watching Law and Order. Even if it takes us hours.
Who’s better with the computer?
He is. I do more on the computer – but he built the one I’m using now… so there’s your clear winner there.
I’m better at Excel though.
Who drives when you are together?
We alternate. One of us suggests we go someplace… if it’s your idea then you probably end up driving. If you don’t make that statement as part of the suggestion… then the other person has the open door (day of) to say the ceremonial “are you driving or would you like me to?” and then the suggestor can either fall upon the sword and do the driving or humbly ask the other party how much gas they have and would they mind terribly.
It’s complicated, but it works, and it’s a cherished little ceremony. We both thank the other for driving… every time… and it almost always balances out eventually.