Mindful

Well, long lost friends, I needed to take a breather there. For a while, bad things happened. And kept happening. And for a bit, I was thinking deep thoughts and feeling big feelings and I just needed some clear head space. I wasn't really ready to write about what was going on in my life, and honestly, I may never publish some of the things that happened. Grief can be a long, dark tunnel, and your brain has a funny way of shutting out all but the non-essential until you are ready to take shaky baby steps back into the strange new world that is your life. Honestly, I've never been happier to celebrate a new year than I was this year.

And so far, honestly, 2013 has been pretty damn good. I think my journey through dark scary uncertain times gave me the gift of mindfulness. Now, if you know me in real life, you know that I am not the most cautious, thoughtful person by nature. Kev always scolds me for rushing to the end of a situation, rather than appreciating the steps along the way. He often reminds me to slow down, take a breath, look around, think things through. Often, I get 90% of the way into a task, only to forget the last 10% because I've moved on to something else. It is terrible.

A funny thing happened in the middle of my hellacious December, though. It turns out that when you can only take one step, one day, sometimes one hour at a time, that you become more mindful of what that step contains. In taking deep breaths as I proceeded forward, I began to slowly appreciate where I am now. Loved by a fabulous man. Surrounded by an amazing, challenging, rewarding learning community. Enveloped by family and friends that love my flawed, sometimes broken self. I began to put on my mindfulness like a warm sweater, and the here and now began to push back the cold fingers of grief.

I find myself wanting to hang on to this feeling of mindfulness, and to be more present in what I'm doing. To unload the dishwasher while checking for stray tupperware lids in the bottom. To really listen to my students' questions- even the most mundane. To think before I speak, and to be thankful for what I have. It turns out, that in having a path I was traveling suddenly bulldozed by life, I'm becoming able to really experience what I do have slower, deeper, fuller. Funny thing, this life. I'm not sure where I'm headed, but at least I can appreciate the getting there.

A small but mighty gift, indeed.

Graduation Thoughts

This weekend, Kev and I traveled with his family up to Minnesota for his younger brother Bobby's graduation from college. His fabulous girlfriend, Becca also graduated that day, and we spent all of Saturday bopping around to parties and celebrating the end of one chapter in their lives. Winona, Minnesota is a beautiful place in the springtime, and I found it easy to be festive in the sunshine.

Some people, on the other hand, weren't feeling so festive. What is it about a college graduation that inspires people to say horrible things? Some of the gems I overheard as people were "celebrating:"

So, do you have a job yet?
It's all downhill from here, buddy.
The real world sucks, it's definitely not the same.
I can't wait for you to start working so you can see what we all deal with.
College were the best years of my life, you're never going to have that much fun again.
Have all of your friends scattered yet? They will.

I'd like to say that I'm exaggerating, but I'm really not. Quite frankly, this kind of negative talk irked me. Yes, moving on from college to the next steps can be scary. For the first time, you are in charge of starting your life. Yes, the economy sucks and these kids probably won't get their dream jobs right out of school, but at the same time, there are so many options to learn from out there, and things have a funny way of working themselves out. I think you can tell a lot about a person from the advice and commentary they give graduates.


I personally felt ecstatic for Bobby because I know that the best is yet to come. I had an amazing time in college, but the years following have been the best of my life. I reconnected with Kev, got married, made amazing friends in Chicago, learned a new city, gained independence, landed two jobs that made me extremely happy most days, traveled, learned, read, and bought a house. Tried to manage money. Bought my own wedding dress with money I earned with my own hard work. Became a mother to two pesky hairballs. Watched my siblings grow. Grew myself. Cried. Loved. Lost. Gained.


I think that anybody who says college were the best years of their life probably is missing out on amazing opportunities in front of them. I miss my college friends, as we've moved to different states and drifted apart. I miss having instant access to my friends whenever I wanted, and the freedom to organize my days as I saw fit. But I am much prouder of the person I am now and the life I live then I was back then. I may be a little more arthritic, and a little more outspoken, but I've made a life for myself with my amazing husband that I'm proud to call mine. I've made mistakes I've learned from, and some choices that I would make again if given the chance. But they've all been mine.


I can't wait to watch more of my siblings become themselves in this way. I can't wait to watch as they stumble, then walk, then run towards the things they want in life. I can't wait to see where life takes all of us, and I know the truth- after college, the best is yet to come.


Were college your best years? What were some of your favorite years in life?

Here Comes August

Today is August 1st, people. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you know that I am a teacher. You also know that I had a very rough year at my old school, that ended in me taking on a new position. Next year, I'm going from teaching sheltered English Kindergarten to junior high ELL. The two work environments so far seem to be completely different from one another, and honestly, that might be just what my career needs right now. A fresh start, a new challenge, new friends and frenemies at work.

The arrival of August usually inspires a mix of dread and hope in my teacher friends and I. After six weeks of relaxation, occasional babysitting, drinking more than usual, and spending way too much money, I'm growing excited for the routine that the school year brings to my life. I'm looking forward to the challenges and mental puzzles that come with learning a new curriculum, and I can't wait to get to know and love my new students. And yet, August also makes me feel a little nostalgic. Another summer is winding down. I should have read more books, done more photographing, spent less time on pinterest (let me know if you want an invite). I should have blogged more, spent more time with my grandparents. Ran more. Drank less. The list goes on.

Teaching is one of the few jobs that comes with its own New Year, separate from the calendar. Each August, we go back into our classrooms with new resolutions, new ideas. We vow to be more patient, less gossipy. More focused, less stressed. Give more feedback, give fewer sarcastic remarks. We, as teachers, want to develop systems for ourselves that really work, that allow us to work smarter, so that we can juggle the balance between teaching and being part of our own families. All of these resolutions brew all summer, and then really start in August.

If you are a teacher, what are your new year's resolutions? If you are a parent or friend of a teacher/student, what do you think my resolutions should be this year?

Happy August!

Mental Space

Oh, hello strangers. I'm sorry I haven't written in a whole week, my mental space has been cluttered. My thesis was due on Tuesday, and I spent Monday writing, editing, polishing, and getting things under control. It feels phenomenal to be able to see the finish line on my grad school horizon.

Along with seeing the finish line on grad school, though comes seeing the finish line at my current job. I've been feeling low about it lately, possibly the lowest I've felt since realizing I should leave. It's hard. I love many of the people I work with. Now that the announcements have been made about who is teaching in what positions next year, the general public knows that I'm leaving, and are processing the information in a way I processed it many moons ago. I've been truly touched by the number of people that have come to me to say that they will miss me, that they love the way I work with my students, that they feel I am an amazing teacher. On the other end of the spectrum, two of the people that made it necessary for me to go have been unspeakably cruel. Ignoring me. Not asking my opinion regarding instructional decisions being made for my students for next year. Calling me unprofessional and disappointing to my face over something trivial. All of it. Knowing I had so many people that loved and supported me in a place I'm about to leave. Knowing that people I work with daily have such a misconstrued opinion of my motives. Not knowing what I'm walking into next year.

All in all, I think the change will be good for me. I walked into my current school feeling cocky, with six months of teaching experience under my belt, sure that I was God's gift to teaching. Over the last four years, I've learned to be humble about my skills, to admit my mistakes, to grieve for and laugh with my students without letting the tough times define me as a person. I've learned how schools really work, about special ed and gifted ed and ELL and native language transfer and more acronyms than one profession should really have. I've learned how to take marker stains off of almost any thing. I've also learned that I am a force to be reckoned with, while also learning to choose my battles wisely. Yet, on some level, I think that on some level, my current co-workers will always see me as that disorganized, impulsive 22 year old, and not the thoughtful, hard-working teacher I've grown into. Maybe moving on will help me to find my voice as a teacher, in a way I've only really begun learning how to do this year.

Processing all of these upheavals in my career has been taking up a lot of mental space. I'm only now starting to clear the cobwebs that two years of accelerated grad school and school changes have left behind. Writing this long post today really helped me to put my emotions in check. So thanks for reading, friends.

Senior Slide

Oh, friends. It was 75 degrees out today after a long, cold blizzard-filled winter in Chicago. Kev and I went for a walk after church, and then I came home and did grad school homework. Really, if I'm honest with myself, I should still be doing said homework instead of sitting around with magazines. Senior slide has hit full force with me this last term of grad school. I have a thesis to write and one more class to take, and somehow I cannot seem to get motivated in the slightest to finish any of it. I'm the laziest of lazy beasts.

Spring is definitely in the air. The countdowns to summer break (42 days!) have begun, and soon my principal will announce staffing for next year-which will not include me. It's hard to believe that in 8 weeks I will be finishing grad school and ending the last four great years I spent at my former school. Next year I'll be moving to a new place, with new people, and I'll have left the kindergarten world behind for the world of junior high ELL. I have to keep reminding myself that change is good. My friends are also all moving on- moving to new, far, neighborhoods. Seeing us less. It's a strange, crazy season in my life right now, and I'm alternately thrilled and terrified.

Date My Friends...If You Dare

Lately, my friends and I have been on a bit of a hiatus. Nobody's fault, but it's true. Many of my friends have new significant others/jobs/apartments, and it seems that we are all growing up a bit, and becoming more absorbed in doing our own things.

For a long time, Kev and I were among the few of our friends in significant relationships. When we got married, I heard a lot of "Oh, when you're married, you will never come out." "You're going to be so much busier after you get married." "You're going to move far away and just stay in together all the time." "You will never let Kev out." Believe me, I've heard it all.

Now, though, my friends are starting to look at things through their own (mostly) rosy relationship-tinted eyes. As the old (one and a half years!) married couple, people often ask me if I like their new-found dating partner. The truth is that I almost always like the new people in our group, because they usually meet the criteria I've set forth below.

I want my friends with people who make them a priority. With a boy or a girl who plans fab dates for them, is happy and sad right along with my friend, even if not always in agreement. This person needs to be flexible, as when he/she gets introduced to me and Kev, Kev will probably harass them. The ideal dater of a friend of mine must therefore must have a hearty sense of humor. Most of all, I want to see my friends with people who make them happier than they've ever been before. Even if they are wearing sweatpants.

....because really, I've found a great guy like that, so I want, more than anything, for my friends to be as happy as I am. And who doesn't like sweatpants?

Huzzah

Life these days is pretty freaking good. After all the drama with work and my decision to leave my current school, I have a new job! It's a junior high ELL position a bit closer to our house than my former job, and the pay and benefits are bangin. I didn't realize how stressed I was about next year until I fell asleep last night and slept without waking up.

Going through the drama and emerging victorious has made me realize how truly blessed I am to have Kev by my side. Whether discussing best and worst case scenarios with him through the decision making process or surprising me with some freaking delicious cookies (pictured above) and dinners out, I've realized how awesome it is to be married to him. This is one of the first big decisions we've made since buying our house, and we survived and came out better than we thought we would. I'm slowly learning that decision making is one of the hardest and best parts of being married. I have my best guy to celebrate with, commiserate with, and grow with, and I like to think we are making each other better people because of it.

Oh, and did I mention that spring break is a mere two work days away? Even though we aren't going anywhere, and Kev has to work all week, I'm really looking forward to the time off. I'm hoping to get things in order around the house, start my half-marathon training, and catch up on all the photo challenges I've slacked on over the past few weeks. Hopefully the weather will cooperate. I mean, seriously, I'm not asking for sundress weather yet, but fleece and jeans weather would be greatly accepted.

Overall, things are going great in our neck of the woods. I'm proud of the way we are growing together, I'm relieved to be gainfully employed in a career that always makes me think, and I've got a great family, awesome friends, and a kicken husband to celebrate with. Huzzah, indeed.

Travel Through Food

I have a bad case of the February itchies. You know the ones I'm talking about. As far as I'm concerned the only good things about February are birthdays of many people I love and the fact that it's a short month. That's it. Right now I'm hungering for travel to places I can't quite afford. I'm yearning for sundress season, and I consider it downright offensive that Target, that mecca that is usually my happy place, is showing bikinis and sundresses right when you walk in. What jerks. Recent uncertainties about work have made me reluctant to book a trip for spring break, so I've turned to other comforts.

Namely, food. What is it about food that instantly takes us to an exotic place? Take last weekend, for example. On Friday, Kev and I ordered from a new Indian/Chinese restaurant that just opened not too far from my home. I ordered my standard Palak Paneer, threw on my sweatpants, and feasted. You know what? It legitimately helped. For an evening I wasn't stuck in the cold, worried about my job, or antsy to get out of the city I mostly love. The break in routine helps.

The best part, though, was definitely this:

I mean, who doesn't love a smiley on top of free samosas?

Saturday Kev and I went to a fancy dinner at a phenomenal place in the loop: Weber Grill. I had never been there, and it was a place that is usually out of our random dinners out price range. We dressed up, we ate steak and seafood, and we got Thanksgiving dinner full. After, we went to the always fabulous Les Miserables and lost ourselves in France for the evening.


I think this weekend and the fabulous food we ate really helped me turn a corner in my February blahs. No, my problems are not solved by any means. Yes, I would still love to be somewhere fabulous and warm and exotic wearing a free flowing uniform of sundresses and flip flops. Sometimes, though all it takes is a break in the routine, culinary and otherwise, to remind you that there are bigger things out there than the petty shit that may be bringing you down. I am better than the way these last few months has made me feel. I am stronger than the drama that has been cluttering my life. I am a fabulous person who can bloom in any climate, and I will make it through this winter and find my invincible spring inside. I am more kick ass than February, that's for darn sure.

Now excuse me while I go spread my awesomeness.

I'm horrid

So, it's been a month since I last blogged which means I've pretty much killed off all 12 readers I had in my extensive membership. Oopsadoodle. I'm getting back on the blog train NOW though, so today's post will have an update of the past few weeks in the life of Colie and Kev. Details are supplied to you with the help of the OTHER love of my life, my trusty dusty planner.

May 31- June 6th: Kev and I spend Memorial Day weekend outside and eating about 32804 hot dogs each, and hold our last porch drinking and grilling on the sidewalk at our old place on Roscoe. Oh, Roscoe...scene of many parties, pettings of puppies, and pranks. Also the place where Kev popped the question to me a week after we moved in. It was also grad school finals week and the beginning of the Hawks being in the Stanley Cup. Kev about keeled over when he realized he was already taking his first finals 10 weeks after he started grad schools. These are the joys of a university with a quarter system. We also find out that the closing date on our fancy new condo has been pushed back indefinitely, due to the condo association not providing updated docs. Freakin A, we are bummed.

June 7th-June 13th: We send out frantic emails to postpone our painting party, as we will have no home to paint. It is also the last week of my school year, and I am plunged into a frenzy of report card finishing, room packing, and glue-stick padlocking to prevent the shady teachers using my room for summer school from stealing all of my glitter glue, markers, and googly eyes I have hidden in my cabinets. Oh, yeah, and the books too....cause I would be almost as upset about that. My work friends and I celebrate the end of the year with a Metra bar crawl (one bar and one beer at every train stop, then run back to the train to get on the next one), and the Hawks win the Stanley Cup at the exact moment I am felled by a sinus infection that leaves my head feeling like it is full of cement.

June 14th-June 20th: Classes start for summer session I. Due to the joys of the quarter system, each summer session is 5 weeks long and moves twice as fast. Kev takes an online class that makes him miserable and forces him to be chained to group conference calls with his strangers, I mean classmates, and I tiptoe around while he completes a giant marketing simulation that sounds complicated. We close on our new place June 14th and spend the last part of the week painting the with my parents. My dad primes and paints our new kitchen entirely on his own, and climbs on top of our refrigerator to do so. I've never seen the man more flexible. Our kitchen is blue, and the living room turns out a strange shade of grayish lavender pink. Whoops. We stagger around and pack, and somehow I manage to do my homework for my two summer classes. I am repeatedly thankful I decided to work on my masters some more instead of teaching summer school, as punk kids inside on a hot day would surely put me over the edge. On Sunday, June 20th, we hire movers (best money I've ever spent) who invade the Roscoe apt and our new place like hispanic worker ants and move us in under 3 hours. The movers discover I speak Spanish, tell me I have a beautiful body, and ask me if my husband is being good to me "en la cama." My sinus infection turns into some kind of goop that invades my lungs and leaves me hacking like a 90 year old pruny smoker, which is triggered often by running up and down the stairs as I move.

June 21-Present: We spend last week doing the 2380432908 chores that come with moving, setting up our new place, emptying our old. The cats move to our new place and alternately sulk around, get lost and cry, or hide behind boxes and attack us as we walk by. I mow through The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's nest, and decide I'm going to write twitter-sized reviews of every book I read from now on. I do about a billion more pounds of homework, since we are now in summer session midterms for session I, and Kev continually laments the amount of stuff we have filled our new place up with. Last weekend, we have a weekend of glory which involves sushi at a byob where I brought and consumed waaaay too much of the B, went to the cubs/sox game and sat 9 rows behind home plate with Kev's dad, went to a birthday party, got sunburned and rowdy at pride, and saw the Stanley Cup at the parade. This week, I'm going to try to finish unpacking and detox after last weekend's mayhem. I'm also still coughing and need a new planner. Sigh....

So, as you can see folks, I might have been a teensy bit busy, but I'm back. You can all sleep soundly tonight knowing I'm back, and if you are lucky, I'll even post some pics of our new place, and my awesome pics of Lord Stanley's cup at Pride. Also, I just realized our ONE YEAR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY is Sunday....holy crap, people. Holy crap.

Simple Questions

On Monday, I went out to lunch with a good friend of mine, who in the past few weeks has started dating another very good friend of mine. We all hang out in the same group, and a lot of things in their situation reminds me of how Kev and I got together. I was asking her about how things were going, and she responded. We chatted for a bit, then she asked me something that really caught me off guard.

"How are things with Kevin?"

Things with Kevin are great. He makes me happier than anybody, and, despite a lot of madness in our lives this year, I've never for one second doubted that we should be married or that I love him more than anything else. I realized, though, that none of my girl friends had ASKED me about him in a really, really long time. It felt really, really, good to have some girl chats about how big of a crush I still have on him.

Why is that? Since we've gotten married, nobody has asked me anything about my boy. Sure, people ask how he's doing, what plans we have, how things are going with grad school or the condo. All of those things are fine, but nobody asks for the real dirt. It's almost like people are afraid to ask, or just not interested. If I've learned one thing about being married so far, it's that doing it doesn't solve everything or automatically imply happiness. Our marriage is about choosing to be happy, finding ways to continue to show each other that we're interested in dating them, even though we know we've signed up for being eachother's plus one at every event from here on out. I still get excited about finding the perfect weekend plans for us. I still put thought into what I wear and enjoy pondering new ways to surprise him. Just because you get married, the dating part doesn't stop. I miss being able to tell my girls about something he said that puzzles me, or about some way he surprised me.

When you're in a new relationship, people get excited to hear about the details, and when you're really happy, you want to share some things. However, it seems like getting married has put an invisible veil between me and some of my girl friends. Now, when I dish about something fantastic that we did, people roll their eyes. They say "well you're married, of course you went on an awesome date or wore the sundress he likes best on you for no reason at all." It's not true, though. Living together, making decisions together, can kill the excitement, and cause a real potential for things to be not fine. And when they aren't, well, that's when you sit and wish someone would give you the opening to talk about your struggles. Just as when you're happy, you wish you could share that without sounding like you're bragging.

I was so, so, relieved my friend asked me about how things are going. Not because they are going horrible, but because I'm so happy. Sometimes I need to talk about how things are to remind myself about how great I have it. Friends, if you're reading this, don't be afraid to ask. Don't assume that just because we're married we are different and somehow untouchable and don't have good dirt to share about life. We're married, we're not different. Don't forget to ask.

Backing Away from the Ledge

Kevin and I have been zombies lately, due to a potent cocktail mix of grad school, first time homebuying, and our usual crazy lives. After figuring out some financing, we are 6 weeks away from being homeowners.

The whole process has really been the first step in our 291 day old marriage, and I'm proud to say that despite some setbacks, we've come through it stronger. I'm a fiercely independent, opinionated and stubborn person, and it has taken some work to accept the fact that I'm going to have to lean on my husband for some things in order to make the best decisions possible for both of us. For example, today we were discussing the amount of the loan our parents have so generously offered us to help us with our down payment. After reiterating about 822938 times that I'm not comfortable borrowing from my parents without a strict repayment plan in place, Kev reminded me that A) this is the only way we can come up with the 7% down payment we need to buy our now non-FHA finance-able dream home, B) he has done the math one trillion times, and has remembered to budget date nights, going out with friends, and my target shopping sprees into the monthly mix each and every time and C) that I really should just stop bugging him about the numbers because he is a numbers guy and does these types of things every day for a career. A career that he has been successful at for many years, and that pays him the money to buy the condo to build our life in so that I can continue to pester him for many happy years to come.

Point taken. One of the interesting dynamics in our relationship is that we have many opposite qualities. I tend to be flighty, Kevin's neurotic. I'm creative, Kevin reins me in. I come up with about 487 life plans for us every day, Kevin reminds me that we need to eat dinner and take things one step at a time. Sometimes I worry I am going to drive him crazy with my incessant impatience for the next BIG EVENT. What I'm learning though, is that we can use these dualities to meet somewhere in the middle, to make a cozy happy life full of Glee singalongs, book chats, floor hockey feistiness, and gawking at other people's cute dogs. It's like the Black Eyed Peas say- we just have to meet halfway. (I know I'm going to get made fun of for that quote- I don't care though. Love them.) It turns out that these things that I used to think would drive us apart are now making us into what every good marriage should be- a team.

Silver Lining

I haven't posted in a while, because things these days have turned out trickier than I previously thought. While we thought we had a condo, with accepted offer all set, it turns out that the condo didn't get FHA approved, which has made it more difficult for us to get financing. The eternal debate of "Should we buy or should we rent?" has been playing out in my mind for so long, it's become an old friend. Times are stressful. In the past week, while all of this has been going on, however, I've found that several things in my life that usually stress me out have brought unexpected joy to my life. Things are sneaky like that. So, to preserve my sanity, I am going to sort out my thoughts about some big topics in my life lately.

Grad School: Yes, I am still on track to graduate in under two years, and yes, I still have to leave work with the students two nights a week to make it to campus, but I've found that while I'm in class, I can just focus on the topics and discussions at hand instead of worrying about where we will live and our future finances. Doing my homework is currently becoming an escape from the endless pro-con list I am keeping. Better yet, I feel more productive, and I'm procrastinating less. I expect this phase to end abruptly once something more exciting comes into my life (37 school days left in my year!) but I'll also enjoy this dedicated student honeymoon while it lasts. Better yet, one of my classes is a children's literature course, so I have an excuse to retreat into my happy place, reading, for a good cause.

Budget: I never thought I would say this, because most things financial stress me out. Usually, I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing financially, and I tend to go through periods where I spend a lot of money (when stressed) and periods where I'm very frugal (when I'm not stressed about life, but stressed about money). Trying to buy a condo has forced Kev and I to take a cold, hard look at our finances. We've created a budget that we share and type things we buy into the various categories. (Love you, Google Docs). Seeing a plan in place makes me feel more confident that we can really do this, should the opportunity arise, and it's had the added bonus of forcing Kevin and I to make some healthy lifestyle choices. We're spending a lot less time and money at bars with our friends, and we've been saving the times we eat out for nights when we can splurge just for the two of us. In the past, Kev and I haven't always been very good at making time just for us, and sometimes I feel like I'm still in the 14 year old phase of only-going-on-dates-when-we-can-go-in-a-big-coupley-group-so-mom-and-dad-don't-find-out. By trying to save money, we've cut down on that and have spent some great time together.

Tackling this house issue has been the first big stressor our brand new marriage has faced, and I'm proud to say that we're doing well. I'm so glad I have someone on my side who understands just how stressful and crappy a lot of this process is, and I'm glad to know that when I pass on going out because it's too expensive, that I have a partner in crime to stay in with. I still don't know where this is all going to go, or where we'll be come June 1st, but I think I will be okay knowing that I will have some kind of home to share with my some kind of wonderful husband.

Awww.....

So, you're, like, married?

Well, we’ve been married for 37 days now, and we’re still going strong. While this number isn’t impressive compared to the dozens of wonderful and happily married couples I know, it feels really good to be married.

Whenever I talk to my friends now, however, a new refrain has become increasingly common. “Well,” they’ll say when discussing plans, “I know Kevin wants to do _____ but let me know if he’s allowed to.” Or, from one of my girls, “You wouldn’t understand why I want a relationship so badly, you’re married. It’s always been easy for you.”

Quite frankly, I’m a little mystified by all this. Yes, Kevin and I are married, which means we have made a pledge to walk through life together, and to put each other first. I’m in the process of getting a new last name, our finances are now together, and if Kevin gets hit by a bus tomorrow, I’m now the one who makes the big decisions should they be necessary. However, we’re still US. We spend more time at a dive bar near our home than strictly necessary, we still irritate each other in the same ways, we still spend an absurd amount of time during the day sending over the top emails to our friends, and we still have champagne, sweatpants, and videogame date nights.

I love being married- the small rituals that make up our day to day lives, experimenting with cooking, hanging out with all of the fantastic people in our lives. I don’t love the assumption that now that I’m married I’m fundamentally different- less willing to spend time away from Kevin, less understanding of my friends’ struggles and successes in the dating world. I’m awkward, blunt, clumsy, sometimes immature, absurdly social, and perpetually late for everything, just as I always was, and none of that is likely to change any time soon. Luckily, I have found and married a partner in crime that is more than happy to deal with it. And for all of the rest of my friends and family- I love you, I will be here for you, I will not hide Kevin from you, and we’re happy.