In some of nadin's last few posts, she has inserted some mundane hausfrau tasks that she was gonna do. Do the dishes, earlier it was make bread. I think she is inserting these snippets as a counter punch to franksolich's "nadin's diaries" whereas the condo close up by the highway that serves as nadin's lair is always in disarray.
I dunno. I suspect nadin's so full of herself she doesn't pay any attention to what other people say, only to what she spouts off. If one were to ask nadin who franksolich is, she'd have to google it.
Wonder how nadin's ex-Navy better half is taking this. She never take's him with her to mix with the SD occupoopers, never stays overnight with OWieS, alway rushing back home to do housework.
To my, that's the most fascinating thing about this whole saga of nadin.
I'm really intrigued about it. Really.
Her husband, by his non-presence, is becoming the most fascinating character in all this.
One has only the knowledge that he's some modest reticent nice guy who served in the Navy circa 20-30 years, and is in his late 40s; also that he works at the post office.
And it's very likely he has no idea, no idea at all, what his wife is up to; has not the slightest idea.
The imagination scrambles around trying to paint a picture of him.
One wishes nadin would wax autobiographical, telling the primitives and us how they first met, what they found in each other, how they interact with each other, who wears the pants in the family. The imagination conjures up all sorts of credible pictures, but it'd be better if one knew, rather than imagines.
Really, though, I think he'd been better off meeting and marrying an American chick, and nadin herself finding some other submarine officer, in the Mexican navy.
