There are a number of ways to bring on a divorce. One sure-fire method is to have an affair. As I've said before, I've never tried this approach, but if I did, ya'll would be the first to know. Another good technique is to spend entire days together doing something inherently frustrating ... like assembling IKEA furniture. C and I gave this one a go on Sunday. And, you know, there may have been a time, several years ago, when engaging in this sort of activity would have been peppered with snarky comments about our respective IQs, and endless repetition of the phrases, "Here, let me do that" and "No, no, no ... it's supposed to go THIS way." And the whole thing might have ultimately led to a day of silence and bruised egos. We are, after all, a couple whose dinner plans got thwarted once over an argument about my driving. (To her credit, C was right: it actually IS impossible to share food with somebody after they've been driving like a granny. And I admit it. I was ... driving like a granny. But in my defense, it was only because I was trying to tell a story. Geez.)

After eight years of marriage, though, you begin to figure out certain things about being with one-another. Like how to tolerate granny driving. And how to put together furniture. Over the last several months, C and I have tackled jobs from the Futon Sleep Shop, to Staples, to IKEA, and I'm happy to report that furniture assembly is no longer the divisive activity it once was. Much the opposite: I think this time it actually brought us closer together. I might even go so far as to say that it was borderline romantic. And yes, I realize that this fact is probably ... no, definitely ... a sad commentary on what we find "romantic" these days. The thing is, we each know our roles in the furniture-assembly equation. C likes puzzles, and she knows that I hate reading instructions of any shape or color. So she handles that part. I like using power tools, and I know C is delicate and girly and averse to calluses, so I do all the grunt work and turning of screws.

As she put it to me before we got started: "You screw and I'll do everything else." (God, I love it when she talks dirty.)

So we have another room mostly done. This time it's C's office which, thanks to a futon, will double as a second guest room for when we have lots of guests ... like this weekend. It's fun having a futon again. I like the way they smell. It reminds me of college. And I guess it probably says something about us that we have both of our offices very near completion and haven't yet a spec of furniture in the living room, aside from my piano.

But back to this weekend ... A bit of Texas is coming to New Jersey this week. Three bits, to be exact. A keg of Miller Lite has been ordered to make it more home-like for them. And there's plenty of Johnny Cash and Hank Williams Jr. on the iPod. Oh, and there will be grilling. Lots of grilling. I'm hoping I don't scare the neighbors, which is why I've invited them all over for the 4th as a sort of North-South peace offering. Hopefully, just like with our furniture-building, just like Barack and Hillary, it will lead to unity. We'll see.

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