Rob had a congenital heart problem. He was born with a hole in his heart--ventricular septal defect--that was patched at age 4. Their contention is that I exacerbated the problem by constantly nagging and fighting with him. His doctor told me that the autopsy showed that he died of an unrecoverable fatal arrhythmia that can sometimes happen after the type of surgery he had, even years later. It was just shitty luck, but with him being cleared to play pro hockey we all thought he was OK. Anything can happen at any time. Bodies and organs are still such a mystery.

Thank you, sj.

I'm seeing someone who is pretty awesome, and gets all of this.

squeals girlishly

"Im a mensa certified genuis. Im very ambitious which makes me misunderstood alot and is probably why I am single."

See, this is why I never bothered with Mensa.

Clearly I would also misunderstand that person, so better we not date.

Maria, your former in-laws are douchebbags. Seriously? It would e inappropriate to say that shit even if he'd been killed in a car accident and you were driving. Whatever he actually died of, he had cancer! Did they think you withheld the magic serum and potions? So wrong.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure Wifely Nagging, however much of a terror it is in old-school sexist stereotypes, doesn't actually go in with surgical instruments to undo heart surgery.

Oh, blessed be. May I ask, how old are you? I've pretty much shrugged off the idea of anyone new, unless the universe is pretty set on the point and shoves someone my way. I met Hubby when I literally tripped over him at an SCA event, so one never knows.

I'm 40, 41 in February. I wasn't looking for him. He was dating someone else when we met last February, and we were just friends in the beginning. The relationship ended, and he made his intentions clear. I pushed him away like hell. He pushed back. And here we are. And I'm happy with him.

Intellectually, I know, but we fought terribly the day before he died. Emotionally, I was blaming myself. It took a long time to get over that. It also doesn't help that I was also called a money-grubbing bitch. Yet I'm the one that carried the household. *shrug*

Oh, and this ambitious misunderstood genius dropped out of college and works construction. Not that there's anything wrong with working construction, or dropping out of college, but it doesn't really seems like the sort of thing that someone who defines himself as an ambitious genius would do. (He never says what his ambitions are -- like, is he writing a novel or discovering a cure for cancer or something when he's not working? He just talks about watching wrestling and playing poker.)

I'm not awke enough to utter the proper imprecations against the evil of your former in-laws. But I am awake enough to be happy that you are dating.

Nothing wrong with wanting to excel at a trade, but he just sounds like a blowhard who is projecting what what he wants to be on who he currently is.

Thank you, Andi. He's a keeper.

I'm taking an online class about how to teach statistics, and I've got to write a sample lesson plan. I really don't feel like writing a sample lesson plan. And most of the suggestions given for these lesson plans involve having students use their own personal data for stuff, and I really need to get over the fact that I'm not comfortable with that, because I need to remember that I'm not going to be teaching this lesson plan with any real students.

(But, seriously, in what way is it a good idea to have high school students do an activity in which they have to report how many text messages they send per day, on average? Is there any scenario where this will not become, "That kid sends almost no text messages because he has no friends"?)