Peace in the East

We worked it out. We talked, we fought, we drained ourselves. Then I made him some cookies and he washed my bras. There was a resolution, and a mutual understanding. So this is marraige? Marraige is tiring...


And also, alot less glamorous than it looks on TV...

Hurt

It is hard to write a chronicle of the first year of marraige for someone who will read about our experiences in retrospect. My intention is to keep a journal for my husband so that we can have a keepsake of our first year together. To remember all the small details that don't make it to a photo album, memorialized forever. To give life and memory to the mundane 'everyday' that we go through. I know that we will look back on this year with a much different perspective than we had while going through it. And I want to remember how I felt, how he felt. I want to be able to remember this year with the same perspective with which I lived it.

The only catch is that as much as you want to remember the funny little things, to truly capture the year means to write about the hurts too. Marraige is not all emergency plans, and home depot and valentine's day stories. So I write now, knowing that when he reads this, all will be fine again. I know that, but I think it's worth something to remember the times it was hard. Not to would be a disservice to our first year of marraige.

So....

Marriage kicks in most when it gets hard. And it has been hard.

We are not a couple that fights very often. We bicker and laugh. We disagree and discuss. But it would be rare that we actually fight. The kind that hurts, that you can't get over with a 'sorry' and a kiss. I would estimate that over 8 years, we have gotten mad enough that it hurts only 4 or 5 times.

I am hurt. What I am hurt about is irrelevant. It always is. For me, it has always been the fact that he would hurt me at all that cuts the deepest. In an argument there are boundaries and I know that they are sometimes crossed. To do so inadvertantly is unavoidable. No one can always know where those boundaries lie. Those are the types of lines that if you accidentally step over, you can jump right back behind the line. The types of things that are more easily forgiveable because of their nature.

But to knowingly cross the line, and to take that step when someone is telling you "please don't do this, it's a whole other thing if you take that step" is to do so intentionally. It is much harder to go backward if you were moving forward at such a deliberate pace. The types of things that are much harder to forgive because of their nature.

Arguments happen, and they escalate. No one gets to be married without going through that. I am sure this will not be the last time, but it is the first, and that counts for something.

Because what my blue eyed boy does not realize is that yesterday I would have said he was perfect. I would say it still today or tommorrow, but I would know deep down that it wasn't entirely true. Which is fine, because no one is perfect. It's like the first time something happens that makes you see your parents as real people. You still love them just as much, and you get over it...but they are redefined to you, and somehow you can never go back to seeing your parents as they were when you thought that their whole purpose of being was you.

See? That's the problem with deciding to step over the line intentionally is that no matter how mad you are and how justified you feel at the time, you lose something much more valuable than whatever's at stake in the argument.

Because until yesterday your wife believed you were perfect.

On Today's Oprah...

Me: Honey, I really think we should go to bed at the same time. I'm worried about our marital connection. It is really the only time of the day you can be truly intimate and connected without distraction. I think it will make our marraige stronger. Marraige is like an ATM machine, you can't keep making withdrawals without making the deposits.

Him: Did you TiVo Oprah again?

Me: It was the ATM analogy wasn't it? Too much right?

How Rude!

For our wedding, someone gave us a cake plate from a very shi shi home store about an hour away from where we live. It is Mackenzie Childs, and with it we got a knife and cake server. It was beautiful, but alas, I am plain, plain, plain...So the white and blue ornate design simply doesn't fit in with my other stuff.

My mom tells me that Mackenzie Childs is expensive and lovely. I wouldn't know. I never heard of Mackenzie Childs. Until this past weekend, I thought he was that kid who joined the Facts of Life cast for the last two seasons...you know, once they 'jumped the shark'.

Anyway, we returned it to the upscale home store and got a store credit for $350. And I looked around and thought "what the hell am I going to buy for $350 in here?" We spent an hour looking around, the store had beautiful things, most not my taste, but beautiful nonetheless. There were some things that I loved...but I can not bring myself to spend $250 on a glass vase.

On the way out of the store with my credit in hand, after an hour of shopping and not finding anything, the store clerk said in an extremely rude voice:

"What kind of taste do you have anyway?"

She was implying that I had no class. It was clear by her tone. If you want me to get furious, one of the ways would be to act snooty. I was furious. In an effort not to embarrass my husband, I just replied that although everything was beautiful, I have plain taste. What I really wanted to say was "I like Target, but your stuff is good too, I'm sure I'll find something next time." But you know, the husband gets pink in the cheeks when I do stuff like that.

There are two ways to confront someone like that. I could tell her that I am a well bred attorney, My parents are the So and So's from so and so, and I drive that Lexus parked out front, so who does she think she's talking to? But to me, that seems a little too Ron Burgundy in Anchorman "I'm kind of a big deal around here...people know who I am." And truly, doesn't that make you as guilty as she is?

My preference is to tell her I shop at Target (which I do on occassion). Because I think that if you do it in the right way, someone like that sales person knows exactly what you're doing. And I think the point is worth making.

An example:

When I was planning my wedding, I was not really on a budget. My parents could afford to give me the wedding that I really wanted. But I think cheapness is in my blood, so when I priced flowers, I was horrified at what they cost. Who spends $20,000 on flowers? Who? Seriously, WHO?

So I was meeting with a well known florist is Philadelphia and they quoted me $18,000 for flowers. I still have a scar from when my jaw hit the table. And the lady, seeing my horror, asked "Why? How much were you thinking?" and I replied "$2500" and she said, "Oh, honey, I am sorry but we only do nice weddings."

My husband was not with me at the time, I was alone in fact. So I replied with all sincerity and sweetness "I'm sorry, I have wasted your time. See, I am trying to plan a shitty wedding. Do you have any recommendations for florists who work with shit weddings?" And that is how I got thrown out of the fanciest florist in Philadelphia.

And you know what happened? I found a florist who did the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen for a third the price. It took me forever, and I spent way too much time searching out someone like her. She was a wonderful woman who does it out of her home, on her own. People kept warning me, saying I was being too cheap and going too far to make a point..."what if she's not good? What's her reputation?" But on my wedding day, more people came up to me about the flowers than I can remember. And every single one of those people said "you must have spent a fortune on the flowers!" No, actually, I got them at Target.


*Update: Just to clarify, I am neither well bred nor do I drive a Lexus. Plus, although my parents are extremely nice, they are not really So and So's from So and so. My mom is from Boston and my dad is from Brooklyn...So unfortunately that just makes me a lawyer, like every other kid who didn't want to work after graduating from college so kept going to school for 3 more years!

VACATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We are planning a vacation that we need so that we don't jump out our office windows. Actually, I am planning a vacation that we need so that we don't jump out our office windows. The last time I let my husband plan a vacation for us, I ended up in a tent in the Poconos and had to bathe in a public pool...But I am blocking that out of my mind...yes. Happy Happy, Joy Joy, just think good thoughts about a vacation!

Now, we just need to decide where to...

For our honeymoon, we went all out and took the vacation of a lifetime...14 days in the Greek Isles. Santorini and Mykonos. It doesn't get more romantic or more beautiful. Unfortunately, I am not Paris Hilton and we can't afford to do that again...So we are going somewhere a little less "sell your first born to afford it"...

But I dream of returning. In ten years I will be able to determine if it truly was the land of lovers, or if we were drunk with newlywedded bliss...Probably a little bit of both.

In Santorini our hotel was carved into the cliffs. Each room was like a cave, and was so romantic! We were on the edge of the caldron of the volcano that formed Santorini...

Our own private patio, with an amazing view, right on the rim of the volcano...One push and he could have been a widower!

Plus we both really like to immerse ourselves in the culture of other countries...We imbibed a little of the OUZO that is native to Greece.



It was awful, but each night, everyone would make a big deal over the honeymooners and they would pour us each a shot and well, you can't be rude! So each night, the above was repeated...

I can't believe we can finally go on VACATION again!!!!!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Stand Corrected

Does the "M" stand for marraige or mcdonalds? You decide.

So that last post? Yeah, I would like to qualify that. No sooner had I posted that than my husband got all crank ass on me and flipped out.

Now that I have been married for 8 months, I feel that I should offer my sage advice to all married women. Because, you know, I have clearly got it all together:

When you are starving, and you have a craving for Chicken McNuggets, and you tell your husband that you are starving and really feel like Chicken McNuggets...and he tells you that he will go get them for you in a way that suggests he would rather stick a pen in his eye...

don't feel guilty and play coy and say "Oh, its okay, you don't have to go if you don't want to." Only to keep mentioning that you really feel like the McNuggets, because you are waiting for him to either say "Yes, I will go get them" or "No, I will not go get them" thereby making a god damn decision...Until finally, he tells you what you are waiting for and makes a decision and says "I will go". And you think, he will go! Great! And you repeat how starving you are.

Only he doesn't listen, because instead of going, he gets on the computer and surfs the damn internet for 45 MINUTES! And FORTY FIVE MINUTES LATER, when he finally strolls downstairs and you have already eaten your own hand because you are so hungry, you say "Forget it, don't go. I'm starving and by the time you get back, it will be 9:00" and everyone knows you can't eat Chicken McNuggets at 9:00 at night, because well...JESUS, the size of your ass has to have some boundaries...

Don't do that. Because he will, to your horror and amazement, GET MAD AT YOU and accuse you of not being clear about what you wanted. He will try and argue that he didn't know you wanted the McNuggets, OR that you were starving OR that you wanted him to go get them for you. HE WILL TRY AND SAY THAT YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE CLEAR WHEN YOU SAID "I REALLY FEEL LIKE MCNUGGETS AND I'M STARVING" because he will try and tell you he had no idea what you wanted...because it is you, not him, that is at fault for being so vague in the first place.

So ladies, when you tell your husbands that you want McNuggets, and he tells you he will get them for you, but you know he doesn't really want to...don't try and be nice and wait for him to make a decision about going, just say: I WOULD LIKE A SIX PIECE AND A SMALL FRY AND A DIET COKE, AND COULD YOU GO RIGHT THIS SECOND BEFORE I EAT MY OWN ARM BECAUSE I AM SO HUNGRY? THANKS HONEY."

I pray that women everywhere will hear this advice so that they may never have to experience the pains of hunger that I endured that night. Also, I hope that women everywhere will come to realize that as soon as you shout your love for your husband from the rooftops, Karma will knock on your front door, and when you answer will kick you in the ass.

So that last post? Yeah, consider it qualified.

The Most Wonderful

I could tell you a million reasons why I love my husband. And there are a million more reasons that I could never put into words.

He is my center, my heart. I love him so much it hurts to breathe sometimes. Just having him next to me makes me feel better, safer, calmer.

It is his kindness, his compassion. He has a sense of justice and fairness that is from a different time, long ago. He is quick with a smile and has an easy laugh. He slow to anger, if at all, and his patience is never ending.

He is smart, and he is funny. He is an incredible athlete with an endless knowledge of sports...but he knows how to cradle a newborn's head and is gentle enough to kiss a sleeping baby. He likes a good beer, but a grape juice suits him just as well. He cried on our wedding day when the church doors opened and he saw me...He laughed as we exchanged rings. He says "I love you" a thousand times a day and means it every time.

And sometimes, he dances with me in our kitchen. Without music, and only for a minute. But it is always the favorite part of my day.

Mornings

An Open Letter to My Husband:

Do not think you are getting one by me. I know your game. I see exactly what you are up to. I am fully aware of your trickery, and have responded accordingly.

You think I don't know that you snuggle up to me and hold me close to you in bed in the morning in an attempt to make me so comfortable that I fall back asleep and don't make you get up...Oh, I know. I know what you're doing. I hear your "five more minutes" appeal.

Just for the record, there are mornings where I start the wake up process 15 minutes early unbeknownst to you so that you get extra snuggly in search of more time. That way, I get the benefit of the morning nuzzle without having to be late.

Anticipation of the enemy's moves is the key to success...Consider yourself outstrategized!

Love,

Me