In the past few weekends, I've had a lot of amazing girl time with my gal pals. Kev has bee wildly busy with work and finishing up another quarter in his MBA studies, and I've been making the most of flying solo by prioritizing my girls. Truthfully, I've written about it before and I'll say it again; I'm not great at making plans without Kev. But a sister needs her sistas, and I'm glad I've gotten to catch up with my original crew.
After spending time with two different girl groups, there was one theme that I had heard over and over. Two of my very best friends are having significant boy troubles. Those are their stories to tell, but both of them are stressing for the same reasons. They are getting older, they want to find the one, and they want to feel like they are really building something special with somebody they care about.Both of were saying the same things:
"I gave him everything I had."
"I was scared to tell my friends until I knew it was going somewhere."
"I don't understand what he needs to 'figure out.'"
"I have no idea how to meet someone."
"I don't want to start over."
"I'm ready to find someone."
"I'm doing my part, why isn't he doing his?"
Ack.
I totally empathize with these ladies, in that as we get older, our groups of friends are really starting to pair off. I love these ladies and want them around as much as possible, but truth be told, we really do suck. They aren't going to meet a lot of new single gentlemen if they hang out with their same old groups every weekend. It just ain't gonna happen.
But more importantly, I told them both the same thing. The dating and figuring out where you are headed is the easy part. It shouldn't be hard to fall in love with someone with whom you want to build something serious. Falling in love isn't a choice. Staying in love is. The dating part should be the easy part. If it's not, it's probably not going to go anywhere. It sounds harsh, but it's true.
Why waste the effort on somebody you don't look forward to seeing? Why take your fabulous self off the market for someone who isn't equally as smitten with you? Real true love doesn't listen to your objections. It grabs you by the teeth, drags you along with it, and leaves you so high strung that you daze off at work, dreaming of that special someone. You look forward to seeing them, but more importantly, your life seems a little bet less rich, less sparkly, less vibrant, when they are not around. And until you get that magical foot-popping, swoony giggling fit around that person, well, they aren't worth your time.
Life is too short to get lots in the should and shouldn'ts. Love knows that and doesn't pay them any mind. Wait for it ladies, because when that special someone comes, he (or she) will be so, so, so, so worth it. I promise.
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Monday, February 27, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
On Being a Hermit
Recently, I read an excellent article about living alone from the New York Times Basically, this article contends that living alone is more acceptable now than it ever has been in previous social times. It also says that contrary to popular belief, living alone means being more, rather than less social. Long story short, I completely agree with this article. It explains why I'm becoming such a crazy cat lady in my old age.
When I was younger, and lived with roommates, I constantly made plans. No, I wasn't living alone, but I was extremely social. I had each weekend booked up with things to do, and I actively organized lots of plans with my friends. When Kev and I moved in together and got engaged, I swore that we wouldn't become "that married couple." You know the ones. They spend all their time with friends talking about their wedding and then once it is over- POOF. They disappear into a cloud of matching linen sets and formal flatware, never to be heard from again. Indeed, I started this very blog in the hopes of refuting some of those stereotypes. To make matters more complicated, Kev and I had very few local, close friends who were in serious relationships at the time we got married, so they were all happy to predict that big scary changes were coming our way.
Now, after nearly three years of marriage, I'm realizing that my friends were right, to a certain extent. Kev and I have a cozy condo with two cats, and complicated work lives. Kev is still getting his master's degree, and I am still recovering from finishing mine in June (not to mention starting a new job). If we are invited to weekend events, we almost always say yes, but if no invite is forthcoming, well, we get lazy. We stay in. We drink champagne and wear sweatpants and don't get out of bed until noon. Because we can.
I think there is something about having an automatic partner in crime that makes the rest of the world seem a little less pressing. Four years ago, I would have jumped at the chance of a free weekend to organize a big outing to an unusual restaurant or one of Chicago's many fests. Now, it all seems like a lot of effort, when I can use that time to lounge with my favorite person in the world. I would argue that I've gotten less social as a result of living with someone I love, rather than more. I feel some guilt about this. I know I've let some friendships slide and grown apart from some people from whom I was inseparable, but that's life. I know I need to find a happy medium between "us" time and "the world" time, and I know I'm wasting valuable opportunities to venture out in the city. I know that time is ticking before we have kids, and it may never be this easy to get out and about again, but really....I'm just not as motivated as I used to be.
Shacking up has made me a hermit.
Do you think that living with someone you love makes you more or less social? Why?
Are you offended when your cohabitating friends don't call?
Am I a terrible person?
When I was younger, and lived with roommates, I constantly made plans. No, I wasn't living alone, but I was extremely social. I had each weekend booked up with things to do, and I actively organized lots of plans with my friends. When Kev and I moved in together and got engaged, I swore that we wouldn't become "that married couple." You know the ones. They spend all their time with friends talking about their wedding and then once it is over- POOF. They disappear into a cloud of matching linen sets and formal flatware, never to be heard from again. Indeed, I started this very blog in the hopes of refuting some of those stereotypes. To make matters more complicated, Kev and I had very few local, close friends who were in serious relationships at the time we got married, so they were all happy to predict that big scary changes were coming our way.
Now, after nearly three years of marriage, I'm realizing that my friends were right, to a certain extent. Kev and I have a cozy condo with two cats, and complicated work lives. Kev is still getting his master's degree, and I am still recovering from finishing mine in June (not to mention starting a new job). If we are invited to weekend events, we almost always say yes, but if no invite is forthcoming, well, we get lazy. We stay in. We drink champagne and wear sweatpants and don't get out of bed until noon. Because we can.
I think there is something about having an automatic partner in crime that makes the rest of the world seem a little less pressing. Four years ago, I would have jumped at the chance of a free weekend to organize a big outing to an unusual restaurant or one of Chicago's many fests. Now, it all seems like a lot of effort, when I can use that time to lounge with my favorite person in the world. I would argue that I've gotten less social as a result of living with someone I love, rather than more. I feel some guilt about this. I know I've let some friendships slide and grown apart from some people from whom I was inseparable, but that's life. I know I need to find a happy medium between "us" time and "the world" time, and I know I'm wasting valuable opportunities to venture out in the city. I know that time is ticking before we have kids, and it may never be this easy to get out and about again, but really....I'm just not as motivated as I used to be.
Shacking up has made me a hermit.
Do you think that living with someone you love makes you more or less social? Why?
Are you offended when your cohabitating friends don't call?
Am I a terrible person?
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Social Justice
First of all- thanks to all you friendlies out there who talked to me about last week's depression post. Honestly, there are a few reasons I write this blog. One of them being that it's cheaper than therapy. Often, I start writing about things that I need to think out for myself, and voila the answer works itself out.
Today was one of those rare days where I attended a professional development workshop and I walked away dazzled. I participated in an amazing workshop for ELL teachers given by a woman who has been in the business since 1974. She was energetic. She was passionate. She was real. I want to carry her around in my pocket all the time. So many of the things she said resonated with me, and she delivered her thoughts with so much love.
One thing stood out to me in particular. Dr. Guzman said that you can't be an ELL teacher without the hunger for social justice for your students. She noted that part of our job is to make sure that our students are enveloped in and protected by the great laws that the United States has for our ELL students. She said that we can't just be satisfied by giving them a good education- that we must work every day to make sure they have an equal opportunity for success, for social participation, and for the opportunity to help enrich and open their native English speaking peers' minds.
Yes, I thought this is why I teach.
Then, I took this concept back to my own life. Although I feel I've gotten myself out of my recent funk, I know I can slip back easily. Even though I have more than I ever thought possible for myself in my life, I'm hot tempered. I'm jealous. I can get whiny. I'm stubborn. I think it comes with the territory of being intelligent, passionate, and opinionated. In short, I'm a lot to handle. But if I really want to find peace within myself, I need to make sure that I am treating myself with justice. Because a lot has been given to me, a lot is expected of me, as the saying goes. I need to pour my energy more into working for others, into making things better and not worse, and to focus on all of the things I do have, and suddenly all this popularity and has vs have not bullshit will fall by the wayside. I also need to be fair to myself- I need to know when I need to give myself a break, and I need to give it. I know when I need to give my friends a break, too, and I need to give that as well. If you want peace, Nicole, you need to start working harder at justice.
Who would have thought the time I spent writing sub plans yesterday would have turned out to be so, so worth it?
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
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?
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?
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Reuniting
Yesterday, I reunited with some people very dear to my heart, and as I stopped and thought about it, I realized they are related.
For starters, my lil' sister came home from studying in Chile for six months. I'm so proud of her for going somewhere off the beaten path, and also incredibly jealous. I've studied in Mexico and Costa Rica, and I'm also a travel junkie. I get antsy if I don't have a trip planned, and I have a life goal of seeing as much of the world as humanly possible. I have a collector's lust for amassing connections with people and unique experiences from as many different societies as possible. My sis traveled throughout South America during her time there, hitting Argentina, Peru, Bolivia, Uruguay (I think) and the northern desert and Patagonia regions of Chile. She spent the last three weeks of her trip backpacking the Inca trail, and met people from all over the world. While I'm happy for her, I'm also very selfishly jealous. I don't know when (or if) I'm going to get to embed myself in a culture the way that she did again.
As some of you know, I teach ELL at a school with students from many different walks of life. Most of the time I love my job, and I'm fascinated by the diverse set of students and teachers that I work with. I also get to use Spanish every day, something that makes me incredibly happy and allows me to connect with a wide array of parents and students. In fact, last night, after dinner with my sis, I stopped by a local bar and caught the tail end of a summer happy hour (gone way late) with my favorite friends from work.
While we were sitting at the bar, we all started talking about the fact that most of us are now tenured and in grad school. For teachers, this means that many of us have put on the "golden handcuffs"-we're moving up the pay scale, and may be pricing ourselves out of other jobs in other districts. In effect, we've consciously or unconsciously acknowledged the fact that we're all probably going to stay at our school for the foreseeable future. As we talked about this, we all realized we had something in common: none of us, when we took our jobs, thought that we'd stay at our school for more than a year. Not because there's anything WRONG with where we teach, but because we are all (like my sister) travel nuts. We figured we'd spend a year or two in our midwestern district, and then go back out into the world. Many of us considered taking jobs teaching English in foreign countries, and almost all of us have plans to visit another country for an extended summer trip in the near future.
Before I met Kev, conversations like these with my work pals would have sent me into a panic. Committing to a job? Cutting back on my months abroad? Buying a HOME instead of planning a trip? Now, while I might travel less, I have a partner in crime to explore with, whether it's different neighborhoods in my city or different countries on a trip we plan together that has meaning for both of us. While I might not be taking trips that reflect my own selfish goals, traveling with Kev leads us to go places and see sights that I may not have chosen, but that lead me to new and different thoughts. I've learned that part of growing up means expanding your vision of where your future will take you, instead of planning your life through the lens of your own vision.
For starters, my lil' sister came home from studying in Chile for six months. I'm so proud of her for going somewhere off the beaten path, and also incredibly jealous. I've studied in Mexico and Costa Rica, and I'm also a travel junkie. I get antsy if I don't have a trip planned, and I have a life goal of seeing as much of the world as humanly possible. I have a collector's lust for amassing connections with people and unique experiences from as many different societies as possible. My sis traveled throughout South America during her time there, hitting Argentina, Peru, Bolivia, Uruguay (I think) and the northern desert and Patagonia regions of Chile. She spent the last three weeks of her trip backpacking the Inca trail, and met people from all over the world. While I'm happy for her, I'm also very selfishly jealous. I don't know when (or if) I'm going to get to embed myself in a culture the way that she did again.
As some of you know, I teach ELL at a school with students from many different walks of life. Most of the time I love my job, and I'm fascinated by the diverse set of students and teachers that I work with. I also get to use Spanish every day, something that makes me incredibly happy and allows me to connect with a wide array of parents and students. In fact, last night, after dinner with my sis, I stopped by a local bar and caught the tail end of a summer happy hour (gone way late) with my favorite friends from work.
While we were sitting at the bar, we all started talking about the fact that most of us are now tenured and in grad school. For teachers, this means that many of us have put on the "golden handcuffs"-we're moving up the pay scale, and may be pricing ourselves out of other jobs in other districts. In effect, we've consciously or unconsciously acknowledged the fact that we're all probably going to stay at our school for the foreseeable future. As we talked about this, we all realized we had something in common: none of us, when we took our jobs, thought that we'd stay at our school for more than a year. Not because there's anything WRONG with where we teach, but because we are all (like my sister) travel nuts. We figured we'd spend a year or two in our midwestern district, and then go back out into the world. Many of us considered taking jobs teaching English in foreign countries, and almost all of us have plans to visit another country for an extended summer trip in the near future.
Before I met Kev, conversations like these with my work pals would have sent me into a panic. Committing to a job? Cutting back on my months abroad? Buying a HOME instead of planning a trip? Now, while I might travel less, I have a partner in crime to explore with, whether it's different neighborhoods in my city or different countries on a trip we plan together that has meaning for both of us. While I might not be taking trips that reflect my own selfish goals, traveling with Kev leads us to go places and see sights that I may not have chosen, but that lead me to new and different thoughts. I've learned that part of growing up means expanding your vision of where your future will take you, instead of planning your life through the lens of your own vision.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
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.
"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.
Friday, May 21, 2010
A Little Problem
I almost got divorced this morning. Seriously, it was bad. In the process, I think I lost a lot of wife points, and am now plotting smart hockey things to say while feeding Kevin Beam-and-7ups when I see him this evening. I am in that much trouble. Yipes.
One of the fundamental problems in Kevin's and my relationship is our opposite approaches to the mornings. Kevin leaps out of bed, happy and well rested, and tackles 7 projects at once. He chats with the cats, tries to chat with me, and whistles a happy song as he thoughtfully chooses the appropriate attire to wear for the day.
Me? Not so much. I cannot emphasize enough how much I hate mornings. I am a total beast to deal with, and after hitting the snooze button as many times as humanly possible, I stagger out of bed, rifle through piles of clothes until I find the easiest thing to wear, and stumble around blindly, muttering about how miserable I am. I'm like the hunchback of Notre Dame and Medusa combined. It's simply awful. It's also a good thing I live so far from my work and have to leave earlier than Kev on weekdays, because I need a good hour of silence and staggering before I'm able to morph back into my usual awkward and giggly self.
In the past, we've had several discussions about the use of the snooze alarm. Kevin uses it maybe one time if he stayed up a little to late the night before. It's an emergency situation only tool. I, on the other hand, consider every time I have to wake up to an alarm clock an emergency, and accordingly hit the snooze at least four times. There's just one little problem-the alarm clock is on Kevin's side of the bed, and he's a big guy. I can't hit the alarm without him waking up. He is less than pleased with the whole arrangement, to say the least.
This morning, the alarm went off, and I drowsily asked Kevin what time it was.
"5:50," he replied, "Time for you to get up."
"WHAT?!" I responded.
"Yeah," he said. "I thought I would just set the alarm later to let you sleep longer since you've been so tired lately."
Now, I realize that in theory it sounds like a kind and thoughtful thing for Kevin to do. Knowing I've been super busy and exhausted, he thought an extra 20 minutes of uninterrupted sleep would give me a little boost- a chance to let my batteries re-charge a little longer, and attack the morning a bit more happily.
What Kev failed to take into account is that I am physically incapable of exiting the bed without a little doze. So, I asked him to hit the snooze KNOWING I had to get up right that second, which meant I did not get out of bed until 6. I have to leave the house at 6:25 to make the train ride up to my school. What followed was a prime example of bad behavior on my part. I stumbled, I cursed, I ranted, I raved, I even yelled at the cats for moving my shoes in the middle of the night. I left the house feeling panicked, and barely made the train. Worst of all, Kevin woke up after my fifth stage-whisper of a terrible curse word, and got out of bed to help me find my shoes, school's t-shirt, and lunch. I am officially a horrible person.
Marital Lessons Learned:
1) I should have the alarm clock on my side of the bed.
2) I should never be allowed to speak before 8 a.m.
3) The only thing that allows me to survive the mornings is my routine. I do not handle disruptions well.
4) Surprises are not meant for mornings.
Wish me luck as I attempt to smooth this all over. Maybe I should buy Kev some nachos, as well.....
One of the fundamental problems in Kevin's and my relationship is our opposite approaches to the mornings. Kevin leaps out of bed, happy and well rested, and tackles 7 projects at once. He chats with the cats, tries to chat with me, and whistles a happy song as he thoughtfully chooses the appropriate attire to wear for the day.
Me? Not so much. I cannot emphasize enough how much I hate mornings. I am a total beast to deal with, and after hitting the snooze button as many times as humanly possible, I stagger out of bed, rifle through piles of clothes until I find the easiest thing to wear, and stumble around blindly, muttering about how miserable I am. I'm like the hunchback of Notre Dame and Medusa combined. It's simply awful. It's also a good thing I live so far from my work and have to leave earlier than Kev on weekdays, because I need a good hour of silence and staggering before I'm able to morph back into my usual awkward and giggly self.
In the past, we've had several discussions about the use of the snooze alarm. Kevin uses it maybe one time if he stayed up a little to late the night before. It's an emergency situation only tool. I, on the other hand, consider every time I have to wake up to an alarm clock an emergency, and accordingly hit the snooze at least four times. There's just one little problem-the alarm clock is on Kevin's side of the bed, and he's a big guy. I can't hit the alarm without him waking up. He is less than pleased with the whole arrangement, to say the least.
This morning, the alarm went off, and I drowsily asked Kevin what time it was.
"5:50," he replied, "Time for you to get up."
"WHAT?!" I responded.
"Yeah," he said. "I thought I would just set the alarm later to let you sleep longer since you've been so tired lately."
Now, I realize that in theory it sounds like a kind and thoughtful thing for Kevin to do. Knowing I've been super busy and exhausted, he thought an extra 20 minutes of uninterrupted sleep would give me a little boost- a chance to let my batteries re-charge a little longer, and attack the morning a bit more happily.
What Kev failed to take into account is that I am physically incapable of exiting the bed without a little doze. So, I asked him to hit the snooze KNOWING I had to get up right that second, which meant I did not get out of bed until 6. I have to leave the house at 6:25 to make the train ride up to my school. What followed was a prime example of bad behavior on my part. I stumbled, I cursed, I ranted, I raved, I even yelled at the cats for moving my shoes in the middle of the night. I left the house feeling panicked, and barely made the train. Worst of all, Kevin woke up after my fifth stage-whisper of a terrible curse word, and got out of bed to help me find my shoes, school's t-shirt, and lunch. I am officially a horrible person.
Marital Lessons Learned:
1) I should have the alarm clock on my side of the bed.
2) I should never be allowed to speak before 8 a.m.
3) The only thing that allows me to survive the mornings is my routine. I do not handle disruptions well.
4) Surprises are not meant for mornings.
Wish me luck as I attempt to smooth this all over. Maybe I should buy Kev some nachos, as well.....
Monday, August 10, 2009
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.
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.
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