i get a lot of weird looks when i tell people i’m a housewife. folks are like “oh, you stay home with the kids” and i’m all “nope, we don’t have kids yet” or they’re like “so… you’re unemployed right now?” trying to be sympathetic as they figure out where to put me. because this is new york. a city of achievement. pretty much the first thing people ask you after your name is “what do you do?” and they’re looking for a short answer. a job. they’re not necessarily interested in hearing about how i putter in my garden and make cards for people and do weird stuff to furniture and occasionally plan weddings and visit my folks and bake cookies and go to meetings and do our bills and cook moderately good meals and play stage-mom to our dog Smith and fight with the health insurance company and support my wife in every way i can think of. so i tell people i’m a housewife. with a grin on my face because i love what i do. and mostly i get a quizzical look.