The Post In Which I Explain To Those In The Southern California Real Estate Market That They Too Could Afford a Beautiful Home If They Moved To JERSEY

I couldn't help noticing that people commented on my "cute" house:





And the LOCATION! I think the word is "Quaint":



The grass seems greener, does it not? But upon closer inspection:






But maybe you guys won't be bothered by the 1,983,879,342,076 hours of blood, sweat and tears involved when you buy one of those charming old victorians...and lest you think I was kidding, blood was shed, Oh. My. God. the sweat, and there were DEFINITELY TEARS.

Maybe those of you in the Southern California Real Estate Market are saying, "I'm not afraid of a little hard work, it is worth it in the end." To you I say, you are right! For us, it was worth it in the end.

But please do not forget, with New Jersey prices, comes Northeast Weather:



How "cute" does our house look in this picture?

Rocky part VI

Mawwwwiage is what bwings us here today...a dweam within a dweam.
-The Princess Bride.

As I mentioned in the previous post, on the same day I cranked out on my husband for his broken promise of bed time, the train home caught on fire and stopped running. Forcing me to have to call him to come get me...IN RUSH HOUR TRAFFIC. Which he did without blinking. Therefore, I give you: ODE TO MY HUSBAND

Marriage is the hardest and easiest thing I have ever done in my life. There are days when it feels like from the moment I step off the train to go to work until the moment I walk in the door at night, life becomes a slug fest. Most days I feel like I am fighting for a title in the main event, and home is the the corner I go to when the bell rings. And being married is like having the guy with the water bottle standing there, telling you "it's going to be fine, your doing great, throw your left more because he looks like he's coming from the right." He's the guy that takes me out in Vegas for a good time after the fight...win or lose.

I hear people say "life is a grind" and I think that it probably can be. But when you have someone grinding it out everyday with you, it doesn't really seem that way. It feels like there is a purpose, something greater than you, something your are building together. Working towards "it" together. And it is fun, it feels like it's what you were meant to be doing.

My husband? He is a great corner man. I tell him so all the time. And so I'm telling him now, here on this blog.

Thanks for being a great corner man.



*I would be remiss if I didn't let the internets know that my husband does not normally wear shirts like that, but we bought matching shirts in greece...which I make him wear sometimes. Another example of how good he is to me...

I'm Cranky

"Cranky pants" for those of you not in the know (or not in a marraige with me) is a condition which is marked by irritability after a poor night of sleep. The condition is normally caused when a husband promises his wife two nights in a row that he will come to bed early with her, then does not come to bed early with her on either night, thereby keeping her awake until approximately midnight despite the fact that she has specifically told him that she is EXHAUSTED, and needs to go to bed early. Said wife will let it go on the first night, but then on the second night, she will restate her desire to go to bed early, and in a nonaccusatory way, mention the fact that she had wanted to go to bed early the night before, only didn't get to do so because he kept her up doing god knows what in the kitchen.

When said husband again agrees to come to bed early, only to break the agreement at bedtime, the result will be a wife wearing cranky pants upon waking the next morn.

My advice to those who may encounter this phenomenon in the future:


When you say you are going to come to bed and do not do so, and it keeps your wife awake on a span of nights on which she has specifically informed you of her desire to retire to the bedroom early due to exhaustion, then do not be surprised if when you bend down to kiss her awake the next morning she wordlessly shoves her open palm into your face, giving you the universal signal for five more minutes. And I suggest giving her the five extra minutes and not trying to pull one over on her by waking her up again in four minutes, because she will know that she was short-changed and it will only make the situation worse...for you.

Also, do not look surprised in any way whatsoever if, when you try to tell her good morning, she growls at you like a bobcat and closes the bathroom door in your face.

If you find yourself in this situation, it is best to remain still and make no noise. Eventually she will let you in the bathroom to put your god damn tie on (And although this seems to be something that goes without saying, I would not recommend asking her which tie she thinks looks better because I assure you that the only consideration she is giving your ties at the moment relate to which tie she would use to strangle you). I would also suggest going to bed with her that night even if you have a soccer game that does not start until 10 pm, and even if the team needs you to show up so they have enough guys. Because one more night could intensify the cranky pants syndrome elevating the condition to a much more dangerous and lethal condition known as "bitch-ass" sydrome.

And we would ALL like to avoid that.

*editors note: The cranky pants syndrome lasts only 20 minutes in the morning. I love my husband and am not entirely a shrew. Also, the train I take home from the big city wasn't running last night, and he came all the way in to pick me up IN RUSH HOUR TRAFFIC...certainly a cure for the cranky pants. And there was never a question that he would go to the soccer game...I don't pretend to be his mother and tell him things he can't do. So can we stop with the mean comments saying I am a horrible person and wife?

Oh, so now that you're married, you don't give a damn about bridal showers?

That is correct. I don't. Quite honestly, aside from getting alot of kitchen and bath stuff, I didn't really care about them when I was the bride. They are a type of torture that women inflict on each other. Why? Well I don't have all the answers...did you think I did?

So my husband's cousin is getting married. To a woman. Which is fine, as he is a male. Not that it wouldn't be fine even if my husband's cousin was a female. I mean, I'm liberal...I voted for Gore and Kerry. I AM FROM MASSACHUSSETTES FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! Plus, I have a gay brother. See? You can't trump that can you? I am definitely all for equality and civil rights and I am totally down with the gays. Obviously. Geez. But I digress.

Anyhoo, where was I? Oh yes, my husband's cousin is getting married to his long, long, long time girlfriend, and I was invited, along with my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law to the shower. I will take this opportunity to point out that the bride to be is quite possibly the sweetest human being on the face of the earth, and in no way am I talking about her shower in particular. Well, I mean, I am, but...not just her shower...all showers. So again, not mean spirited (and also down with the gays, in case we are keeping score).

The shower was hastily thrown together because she is pregnant. They were engaged before she got pregnant and have been dating forever, so it actually just makes the whole thing more special, and quicker. Again, I digress.

The shower was at a place near my house. A well known place. A place I have been to many times. I wouldn't have gathered that from the invitation however, because my invitation was illegible. Nor did it state the address, nor did it have the time the shower started. Pay attention people...it was a rush job. So I was completely aggravated by the shower. Which let's be honest, even if you had printed out directions on gold leaf paper, I would have been aggravated. I hate showers.

In light of my not knowing where the shower was, or what time it started, I called my mother-in-law, who told me the shower was in a shopping center called "ABC CIRCLE SHOPPING CENTER." She also told me the shower started promptly at 2:00. She told me this on Saturday morning. The shower was on Sunday.

I was proud of my proactivity. Normally, I am totally disorganized and have no idea where the hell I am going on any given day. But not this time! This time I was prepared. Much like our military. Well, much like our military under Clinton, as opposed to our Bush military which is woefully ill prepared and under funded, and poorly supplied (and before some republican starts calling me unpatriotic...that gay brother? Yeah, well his boyfriend is a serving marine...so I am not unpatriotic. I totally support the troops. Especially my gay brother's boyfriend, to whom I send care packages regularly, so shut your republican fear mongering trap). Alas, I must digress again.

On Sunday, my husband starts trying to figure out where the shower is. This is not unusual, but rather typical. This is our dynamic. I never know where I am going, how to get there, or what time anything is. I usually don't have everything I will need once I am there with me. Normally, this drives him crazy, but as previously explained, the invitation was useless and therefore my complete lack of knowledge about what is going on around me was excused just this once by him.

Until I stepped in to tell him that I knew where the place was, and what time to be there, and shouldn't he be proud of me because I am basically as prepared as the army...under Clinton, not Bush. And he agrees with me about the distinction between CLinton and Bush militarily, and we discuss it for a while, before we get back on topic and he says, "are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"I talked to your mom yesterday" I said. He said "what is the name of the place?" "I don't know, but its in the ABC CIRCLE SHOPPING CENTER."

A roll of the eyes. I mean seriously? He is going with a 'roll of the eyes' response? I am getting ready to attend a thousand year old torture tradition for women (no doubt thought up by a man) and he is rolling his eyes at me?

"There is no restaurant in the ABC SHOPPING CENTER"

"Look, that's what your mom said"

"Then you heard her wrong"

"As opposed to her actually BEING wrong?"

He proceeded to call everyone under the sun trying to get anyone to pick up their phone so that we could determine where the shower was. Despite the fact that I already knew where the shower was.

Finally, we got a hold of his sister, who informed us that it was indeed NOT in the ABC SHOPPING CENTER, but was at a place nearby. My head exploded. I broke out in an anger rash, and then fire came out of my eyes.

"See aren't you glad I checked into it for you?"

"No, I am not glad. I am aggravated that your mom told me the wrong thing!" I think my husband rolled his eyes at me, I don't know because all the fire coming out of my eyes blinded me.

10 minutes later, I am at the place (told you it was close by!) and fuming because my husband is blaming me once again for not knowing what is going on, when in fact, I had done my due diligence and determined time and place of the shower. HIS MOTHER WAS WRONG, NOT ME! God forbid he blame anything on his MOTHER! Which I am aware is a cliche, and I am also aware that he actually did concede that it was his mom's fault, but still...

I have absolutely no ending to this story. I wish I could say that I was furious with his mother when I saw her and poured soup in her lap. But frankly, I saw a lemon meringue pie and got distracted from being mad. What can I say? I am easily distracted.

So in conclusion:

I am down with gays.

I support our military.

I also support gays in the military.

My husband's mother is trying to sabotage me.

I love America.

Our president is a schmuck.

My in-laws are republican, and I am down with republican's that can admit our president is a schmuck.

I like pie.

I hate bridal showers.

*as a side note: I do in fact have a gay brother, whose boyfriend is a marine. I do send him care packages, but not as often as I should.

Oh, and just in case, you love our president, and totally agree with everything the republican party says, and have lost all ability to either 1) laugh at yourself and your beliefs in good fun and/or 2)recognize that our president is an idiot:

Look at this:



And don't be mad!

BLACKBERRY

I got a blackberry and am testing it out! Hello 2006, it is nice to meet you...

Also, it's nice to know that I will never be unreachable to my job again. Technology will bite you in the ass sometimes right?