Book 35-The Proposal Jake's the responsible, serious, leader type.  I'm the devil-may-care comedian.  At least that's what I often find it useful for people to think. --Marco "Didn't he write all those Men are from Jupiter, Women are from Venus books?"  -Jake <I do not believe either Jupiter or Venus are inhabitable, certainly not by humans.>  -Ax "Mars, not Jupiter."  -Cassie <Mars may be marginally habitable.>  -Ax "Actually some guys are from Uranus.  Did I just say that?"  --Rachel <And then there's Euclid.> <Her toy poodle.> <Satan with a perm.> --Marco, Cassie Tennant continued to stare straight into my eyes, that weird "I'm about two cokes short of six-pack" smile still plastered to his face. --Marco "Cassie, everyone here has problems.  Ax is the only member of his species within a trillion miles who's not a Controller; you're a pacifist who spends half her time battling aliens; Jake is just a dumb jock trying to play General Eisenhower; Rachel is about three millimeters away from morphing permanently in the Terminator; and, oh, by the way, Tobias is a bird who lives in a tree and eats mice for breakfast.  We all have problems.  We are not exactly the poster children for Mental Health Week." --Marco <I am a talking half-spider, half-skunk.  A skider.  Or possibly a spunk.> --Marco <Marco?  Ax?  Are you guys in place?> <I am here Prince Jake.> <Where is Marco?> <He ees cleaning up ze peeg bucket.> Long pause. <Okay, whatever.> --Jake, Ax "You know what?  I don't care if William Roger Tennant signs people up for the Sharing.  If they're that dumb, forget 'em.  Why am I going to get myself killed for them?" The milk carton had no immediate response.  Maybe it wanted to think that over. --Marco I was a half-poodle, half-polar bear?  I was a poo-bear? --Marco <What's going on, Marco?  Talk to me.  We're your friends.  Talk to us, talk to me and--> <Talk my butt.  Marco.  Cope.  Now.  That's an order.> <Jake, he's going through some bad stuff in his life.  He's stressed.  His dad is--> <Cassie, you know I love you and admire you, but be quiet.  You listen to me, Marco.  We have zero time for your self-pity.  I don't care what your problems are.  You deal with this, right now.> <That's not exactly enlightened behavior, Jake.  If he's having stress--> <Cassie, he's not you, he's not Rachel, he's not even me.  He's Marco.  What he needs to do is pull his head out of his rear end and remember what he always says...Life is either tragedy or comedy.  Usually it's your choice.  You can whine or you can laugh.> --Cassie, Jake But mostly, I remember what I've always believed.  What my mom taught me.  That while some things are just plain awful, most things in life can be seen either as tragic or comic.  And it's your choice.  Is life a big, long, tiresome slog from sadness to regret to guilt to resentment to self-pity?  Or is life weird, outrageous, bizarre, ironic, and just stupid?  Gotta go with stupid.  It's not the easy way out.  Self-pity is the easiest thing in the world.  Finding the humor, the irony, the slight justification for a skewed, skeptical optimism, that's tough.  Anyway. --Marco