case of the ex

After my tutoring session last night, my student’s grandmother shared a delightful anecdote from her past. We were talking about names when she told me that, during her pregnancy with her only child, her late husband insisted on naming the baby *Alex, regardless of gender. His reason? It was the name of his high school sweetheart. Being young and easygoing, she agreed, and their daughter was named Alex.

Looking back, she finds it all a bit strange. She chuckled and shook her head in disbelief as she told the story. “After 40 years,” she said, “all you can do is laugh.” I couldn’t help but joke, “Well, at least whenever you’re annoyed with your daughter, you’ve got an extra reason to frown at her name.”

Her story got me thinking about exes. Oddly enough, I seem to get along famously with my boyfriends’ former girlfriends. I suppose the ex and I usually have one thing in common: excellent taste in men (or at least one man). One of my close friends, in fact, is my high school boyfriend’s ex. I met TL after their breakup, back when I was still friends with him. I ditched the boy but kept the friendship with the girl. As my relationship with him fizzled, our bond only grew stronger, especially once we found ourselves throwing darts at the same photo.

I’ve connected with most of the exes and had a few meaningful chats, though there’s usually a hint of awkwardness, a half-smile, a soft cough, a quiet nod to shared history. The one exception is TL. With her, there was no tension - just an easy, natural friendship.

home beautification

This afternoon, I was watering my mum's two guava trees and noticed that they were still alive and much happier in this cool weather. I could see the birds dancing around them, so I devised a plan to keep the birds off. I assigned Chino, my dog, to be our official security guard. He loves to chase birds away from our yard, likely because he's territorial.

The birds usually fly and land on the tree as refuge from him. I once caught Chino trying to climb the guava tree. I don't think he understands that dogs cannot climb trees. But with his presence, the birds are too scared to peck at the fruits. Being the angel that my mother was, she insisted on leaving food out for the birds. After some intricate and complicated physics work, I was able to calculate how high to place the bird feeder so that it would be impossible for Chino to jump from the ground to the feeder without a serious concussion. Thankfully, my dog is a mathematical creature, as he hasn't broken any limbs. My plan is working like a charm because the guava trees seem healthier and the birds are whistling outside my window as I type.

While in our backyard, I saw three elaborate spider webs on our fence. The patterns were gorgeous and probably took those little spiders hours to create. So, I went inside, grabbed my Raid can, and sprayed all three. I hate spiders. The webs were not ruined (can't say the same for the spiders), and in fact, the glistening whiteness of the toxic spray left them looking very distinguished in the afternoon sun. I think the spiders were secretly pleased with the free touch of home beautification I supplied, though they were apparently too busy choking to death on the poison to truly express their gratitude.