he could kick my ass

I'm not sure exactly how this happened, but the last thing I was discussing with German/Herman, the Hot Honduran Jardinero, was who could kick whose ass. "I could so take you," I said. With far too much hubris.

Because I am tough and mean when it comes down to it, and it always is amazing what adrenaline can do. If he pissed me off or I felt in danger, I wouldn't be hitting "like a girl." And I have a weight advantage - he's not much taller than me, and wiry.

But he's right, he could take me, and probably with one arm behind his back. He was a firefighter for 18 years, and in way good shape (which is why he's hot, even with the new fu manchu mustache). And that a/c unit I struggled with, he could lift with the greatest of ease. He's way stronger than me. He works physically for a living, and I have to sit down.

And it's causing this little shift in my reality about how safe I feel in the world. I remember years ago Karen and I in a discussion about this, how she emphasized that men could physically dominate women. I just don't think about it - I don't want to think about it. What would I do if some strong man broke down my door? After all those self-defense courses, could I defend myself? I, who can't even kill a freakin cockroach without being sad? (This is so warped, but I kind of miss 'em.) (And Ali said that German killed a ton of wasps on my back porch - I'm not just a wuss - there were lots and lots.)

And do I seek danger because I don't think enough about the everpresent danger? But what good does that do? German isn't going to kick my ass. He's a nice guy who's leaving the country in a couple weeks and I'll never see him again.

And what good does it do to live in mortal fear? I'm not stupid - I read situations quickly and comprehensively, and I've been in a lot of different places and always been fine. I am far more likely to die in a car crash - or of cancer - than any kind of violence. I don't want to die a horrendous death, but is being shot in the back really worse than dying of a horrible protracted illness? I think not.

I want to see "A Mighty Heart" - Angelina's new film, just released. The newspaper today said she spoke with a convincing French accent and used a dialect coach for the role of Mariane Pearl. Um, yeah - and Angelina's mother was French/French-Canadian and Angelina is fluent in french?

But I digress. My fantasy is not to die decapitated. But I'm more afraid of Alzheimer's and being a burden on society. When I'm no longer useful to the world, I no longer wish to live.

So maybe if I see the Hot Honduran Jardinero again, we can make a death pact. When we're both too old to be useful, we get to have our Death Match.