Fish are Weird Pets

When I'm not working my crummy job, I occupy my time with my obscenely adorable dog, Lucy, and my boyfriend who is the strangest normal guy I've ever known.

I'll be honest, I have weird taste in men. I have dated musicians, artists, writers, anarchists, hippies, nerds, straight edge kids, any pretty much any other type of guy that fits into the generally odd, bohemian subculture. But boyfriend, henceforth known as Noah (because he bears a slight resemblance to the ER star, Noah Wyle), appears completely normal.

What a handsome devil.

He's quite tall, lanky, and more tan than the average person of Irish descent. He has huge hands, blue eyes, and a wide mouth. When he looks at me with intensity I still get butterflies. We started dating when I was 18 and he was 17.

Yes, I'm a cradle robber. Whatever, get over it.

Anyway, we dated through my freshman and sophomore years of college, broke up for three years, and reunited at my little brother's high school graduation party three years ago.

We live together now, in a small house with vaulted ceilings and ugly brown carpet. He has a real person job actually using his degree as an engineer. But man, he is so weird sometimes.

He really likes keeping fish as pets. But, he doesn't really see them as pets, they're more like moving art. He's been carting around a massive, empty fiberglass (or something else thats kind of like plastic but its clear), tank. It has been used as a table to complete the 1000 piece puzzles he was obsessed with six months ago. It currently sits in our TV room, empty except for some kitty litter in the bottom, adorned with huge jade plants that my old roommate left in my custody. It makes me a little crazy.

Ugly brown carpet AND empty fish tank.

About six weeks ago, he started looking around on craigslist for another fish tank. He would enthusiastically tell me of his plans to make a breeding tank, and then of course we'd need one for the bedroom, and eventually we'd get to work on the big fish tank.

Fish aren't really my thing, although I do like to name them. Right now we have a bright yellow one that I call Pollyanna and two silver spotted ones of the same breed that I call Jack and Diane. I have no idea of their gender.

One evening, after work, he asked me if I'd go with him to look at a fish tank from a guy on craigslist. We drove to the address in question and met the gentleman selling what appeared to be all his worldly possessions. They negotiated, the seller a hispanic man in his early 30s with long, oiled, curly hair and no accent to speak of trying to convince Noah to buy random tools that were laid out in the half empty garage. I stood behind Noah, listening to the guy list the DVDs he had left to sell. We left with a new fish tank.

Noah picked out a desk from the restore a few days later to put the fish tank on in our bedroom. After a few weeks, he filled the tank. He decided that the water was too cloudy, probably because the sand he put inside it was ”dirty,” and emptied the tank using our hose. He filled it up again and emptied it again. And again. And again.

I guess it was worth all the effort because we have pretty fish that swim around in a tank filled with ceramic flower pots.

Its weird, just like Noah. Secretly weird.

He is kind of obsessed with normalcy though. One of his most used phrases is “that's strange.”

When I put my desk catty corner in the study? “That's strange.”

When I want to eat dinner outside on the patio furniture? “That's strange.”

When I put groceries away in the pantry differently than his parents do, “That's strange.”

I think he is so concerned with strangeness, fitting in, wearing the right thing, saying the right thing, because he knows he's a secret weirdo.

And I think its the secret weirdo part of him that I fell in love with. Though, as charming as his weirdness can be, I do kind of wish he'd develop some improved social skills. But then he'd be the perfect man and I'd get bored and run off to date some bass player with a credit score of 12. This is probably all for the best.

EDIT: Noah would have it be know that the kitty litter like substance on the bottom of the fish tank is actually crushed coral. Which is fancier and far less strange.