Tag: Husband

Angst, Humor, Husband, London, Sad, Travel

Another Humorless Interlude – Hyperbole Will Return Shortly

“Anytime you suffer a setback or disappointment, put your head down and plow ahead.”
– Les Brown

Thanks, minions, don't mind if I do.

Kittens, I’m bitter.  Talking it over with Peregrine helped, as it so often does, to really organize my bitterness into manageable and coherent issues and I finally realized why I’m so disappointed – you know, besides the fact that my best friend and lover is moving to London without me.

The real problem is that I feel horribly left behind.  I gladly put J.’s schooling at the top of my priority list and considered my ambitions and goals on hold and never considered it a burden or bad decision.  I still don’t.  I can write from anywhere, but there are only a few really great schools for accounting and finance and I was perfectly content to go where he schooling took us, and wherever his jobs will too.   But suddenly, I’m not going with him anymore (and yes, I know I am eventually, but just indulge me in this mini sulk, alright?) and I’m not sure how that fits in.

I’ve delayed grad school or other academic ambitions, writing is hard when you can’t really devote yourself to it because you’re earning the bread/bringing home the bacon/whatever, and I’ve stayed an extra three years in my dinky university town waiting for him to catch up to me in schooling.  And now, the sacrifice I was willing and glad to make (and still am!) isn’t really paying out the way I thought it would.

I hear you now, “G’DUH, Small Dog.  Welcome to life, you whiner.”  You’re right, I’m sure, but that doesn’t stop the disappointment.

I’m grateful to have a job, goodness knows not everyone does these days.  I’m proud to be able to support my family and keep us out of debt while we finished up undergraduates, internships, and the first few years of marriage.  I’m ludicrously proud of J. and what he’s achieved and thrilled about where he got into school…

But what about me?

Yes, I’m perfectly aware of how selfish that sounds, but I can’t help it.  What about me and what I wanted and planned for?  Three years isn’t a long time in the grand scheme of things, but honestly it has seemed horrendously long to me.  I’ve been working a job that I can say I am grateful for and usually enjoy (and you can bear witness that the stories I’ve got out of it are amazing, eh, ducklings?), but I don’t want to be a police department receptionist for the rest of my life.  It’s a job without the possibility of promotion or progression.  Ditto really for the town we currently live in, and frankly most cities compare unfavorably to London.  J. really was the only reason I stayed where I am now…and he’s leaving.  I’m having a weird time processing that.

So, I’m bitter.  Six more months of slogging (yeah yeah, I hear you again, “Cry me a river, C.”) past when I thought I’d be moving on and forward with our/my lives/life.  It’s not the great tragedy I’m making it out to be, I know that, but it’s still not…what I planned.  And I hate having my plans messed up!

At the same time, I’m feeling a little smug that I’m holding up as well as I am.  I’ve only really whined to Venice, Peregrine, and Hennessy, and in the meantime I have packed up a third of my house to store (the reason for which you will just have to wait and see!), kitted J. out fully in sweaters and suits, researched places to live, made due when Her Majesty’s Government turned our plans on their heads, and generally kept on keeping on.  I’m tired, disappointed, but proud and damned effective.

Rant over!  Thanks for listening, kittens, you’re all sorts of awesome.  But you knew that.

Humor, Husband, London, Travel

Such Sweet Sorrow, My Eye

“I would have to say loneliness is next to uncleanliness.”
– Janeane Garofalo

Today kick’s off J.’s final week at work, which means next week we head back East to see my parents for three whole days, which means two weeks from today we land in London…which means three weeks from today I’m back in the States, sans my husband.

I’m starting to get awfully depressed about the fact, but trying to buck up.  I’m useless if an emotional wreck and we’ve still got work to do in getting him settled in the UK…but I can’t promise I won’t collapse into a puddle of wimpy tears when I get home.  Dratted immigration law changes!

Small Dog...sulks.

I got really mopey last night as we cuddled on the couch watching movies – as evidenced by the fact that, when we ran out to get some frozen yogurt at the local froyo bar, I combined sour gummi worms with dark chocolate yogurt, a revolting combination.  Obviously my brain wasn’t working due to stress.  And then neither of us slept well, me because I was too busy trying to picture what it would feel like going to bed without J. by my side.  I can joke all I like about sleeping in the very middle of the bed when he’s gone (usually countered by J. claiming I already do anyway), but the prospect of actually not having him there for months is starting to feel…decidedly crappy.  To think, I used to like mostly being on my own!

Cheer me up, kittens.  It’s Monday and far to early to burst into tears at work.  What’s going on, good and bad, in your corners of the world?

Home, Humor, Husband, University

Scope Creep

“If the psych boys ever got hold of him, they’d never let him go. No. This is a family matter.”
– Louis McMaster Bujold, Memory

I apologize for thinking that it only produced self-congratualting jerks. I mean, I knew J. came out normal and well adjusted, so did Janssen's lovely husband, but I never really gave the institution in general credit for a well rounded education. I herewith apologize. Sort of. History still rules!

One of the reasons I like J. so much is that we have largely completely separate interests.  You’d think this might lead to marital incompatibility, but au contraire!  It means that we’re constantly introducing each other to new things and are obligated to at least try them out once.  I expose him to opera, he takes me hiking, etc.  Occasionally this is not only interesting but useful as he has a whole brain chock full of things from business and accounting that I never learned in a liberal arts degree.

For example, his upcoming move to London.  As it turned out, my good friend Margot may need a place to crash for a while before she jets off to South America for a job (my friends are nifty!), the timing of which just happened to correspond with my grad-school-induced widowhood!  In any event, she need a place to store some things as she figures out life plans, and I needed an excuse to pack up the back room and get it stored, so we decided to kill two  birds with one stone and clear out my space so she could occupy it for a while.

I press ganged J. one evening and we packed up our entire collection of books (no mean feat), our fine china (a present from my parents which I’ve never even used because I’m terrified of breaking it), and our desktop computer and stacked it all in a closet awaiting transport for storage.

Then, on fire with my success, I turned a baleful eye on my front room.  Before I knew what had happened I had cleaned out our closet and reorganized all the coats, athletic gear, shoes, and luggage.  I vacuumed everything.  I dusted.  Everywhere I looked I saw lists of things to be done and my stress level (exacerbated by recent events and circumstances) rose slyly, but steadily.  Finally when I lashed out at J. for leaving the dishes undone, he crossed his arms and declared, “You, my love, are experiencing scope creep.”
“And just what’s that supposed to mean?!” I frothed, clutching the Swiffer Sweeper manically.

And he explained.  Personally I appreciate that he used a business reference rather than a (in my opinion likely more accurate) psychiatrist term.

But see?  A problem properly cataloged and my worldview expanded.  He also sat me on the couch and told me to watch some mindless TV for an hour to calm down.  How handy!

Humor, Husband, Marriage

Two Years and Counting

“A wedding anniversary is the celebration of love, trust, partnership, tolerance and tenacity.  The order varies for any given year.”
~Paul Sweeney

Don't disturb.

The Fourth of July prep is done.  After staying late at work and taking short lunches (if any), either crawling into bed idiotically late or horrifyingly later, and consuming my body weight in Jamba Juices (due to utter failure at getting up early enough to pack any food at all), I’m done.  Finished.  Dusting my hands in a self-congratulatory manner.  Calling it.

I am taking today off.  It’s my two year anniversary and J. is taking me to my first breakfast in longer than I care to think about.  We’re going to hang out outside in natural sunlight, I’m going to call my Mum and Venice (who are owed marathon phone calls), and flirt with my husband shamelessly in public.  And I am not going to have anything to do with fireworks until Monday when I’m flat on my back in a park staring up at ’em.

C., checking out, kittens!

Health, Humor, Husband, Working Out

Jillian Michaels Is As Evil As She Seems

“I came the simple way, down the stairs.”
“Down the stairs?  To Ursa Minor?  Hey, you must be unbelievably fit.”
– Douglas Adams, The Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy

On the recommendation of a coworker, a rather impressive sister-in-law, and over a thousand Amazon customers, I picked up Jillian Michaels’ 30 Day Shred.  Amusingly, the DVD case got worked over in the mail and it arrived, ahem, shredded!  (Guffaw)

The DVD itself runs just fine, but that’s more than can be said for us.  J. pushed himself too hard the first day we did it and lost his dinner rather inelegantly.  I’ve been unable to walk without wobbling a bit for the past few days,.  Iimagine a more than usually ungainly penguin bobbing back and forth across the ice and you’ll have some idea what I look like going up and down stairs.

My bum hurts.

In other words, it’s working.  I’m determined to be extremely fit by the time we go off to grad school!

Humor, Husband

Smart Husbands Make For Healthy Lifestyles

“Marriage must constantly fight against a monster which devours everything:  routine.”
~ Honore de Balzac

Margot and I couldn’t work out as usual last night, but she decided to come over to utilize my prodigious cutting and pasting skills to make a project for her class.  She wasn’t coming over until 8pm so after putting dinner in the oven and dropping on the sofa, I threw a baleful glare at Harley.

Wait a second...

“I need to bike tonight,” I sighed, snuggling down in the cushions.
J. glanced over at me, saw my lazy intentions, and grinned cheekily.
“I bet you won’t.”
I sat up sharply.  “Excuse me?”
“You,” he reiterated.  “I bet you won’t bike.”
“The hell I won’t!” I snapped and dragged it of its corner before everything clicked.
“Oh.  You’re clever.  I’m on to you.”
“But is it working?”
“Yes.  Drat.”

Sneaky boy.

Humor, Husband, School, University

Hand Me That Paper Bag, Dear? Thank You. AUGHHHH!

“A graduation ceremony is an event where the commencement speaker tells thousands of students dressed in identical caps and gowns that ‘individuality’ is the key to success.”
~ Robert Orben

I’m calm.  I’m collected.  I’m poised.

I’m freaking out.

Today makes it officially one month until J.’s graduation.  Which means that it’s only five months until we’re off to grad school on the opposite side of the country/world.  Which means we’re 14 months away from being done with school entirely.  Which means we have to grow up, I suppose.

That coherrent look? The product of caffeine, pain killers, and my good friend there holding me upright.

I remember being almost entirely apathetic about my own graduation.  Granted, I just got home from a summer “study abroad” to the UK 24 hours previous to the ceremony and was jet-lagged out of my mind.  The only reason I participated in the whole cap-and-gown circus was because my parents happened to be in the country visiting friends and family and could actually show up.  They took pictures, met J. for the first time, and took us all and my godparents out to breakfast.  Fin.

Thus I’m much more excited about his graduation.  But just don’t let me think about what comes next…because there is too much to do and I’ll start hyperventilating.  Again.

Humor, Husband, School

Higher. Education.

“Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it sure has earned a lot of people graduate degrees.”
– Robyn Irving quotes

Yesterday was a big day, my loves.  Huge. Well, maybe just for us, but still.  Gargantuan.

And he's brilliant too!

We received word back from the last of the grad schools J. applied to, and he got in to all but one – which is completely fine because it’s their loss apparently.  He’s into two of the top ten schools for his program in the country, including the number one, and one of the best schools in the world!  I’m so ridiculously proud of him it’s a little dizzying.

Now, the fun bit.  I thought the hurry-up-and-wait period after submitting the applications was bad, but now we have to make a decision.  And after that we have to make a plan that includes a move, financing this adventure, maybe visas, and selling our soul (and possibly our firstborn child) to banks and governments to afford it.  That’s all a bit nerve-wracking.

But also incredibly exciting.

Humor, Husband, PBS

Hello, Lover!

“Bestow thy flickering light forever.”
– Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes

You haven’t heard from me much, piglets.  Shall I tell you why?  And shall we agree that you won’t judge me about it – at least not very much?

Well, as you may recall, J. and I canceled our cable.  Our cable company, being the dirty rotten sort that they are, was going to hike our monthly fee to over a hundred dollars!  Outrageous!  If you haven’t noticed, you can watch most shows online these days (completely legally, even!), so paying $100 for something you can get for free is ludicrous even by cable companies’ skewed logic.  We gleefully turned in our modem and bade adieu over a lunch break.

We were sheepishly astonished at how much free time we had after severing all ties.  Embarrassed really.  J. missed his sports channels, but he has several friends in the area to watch sports with at their houses (his own loving wife having still not quite learned to love ESPN).  The real blow for me was giving up PBS (love of my life).  However, using our TV just for movies was a good choice in a lot of ways, and I still had the internet to indulge in this Masterpiece Mystery – speaking of which, have you seen Sherlock yet?  No?!  Find it and watch it at once.

But then.  Then.

J. bought me a digital antenna for Christmas.  I now have not one but five PBS channels plus several others this magical little box sitting on our TV stand plucked out of the ether.  I like that guy so much.

And thus, I am as good as dead to the word.

Sigh. I have missed thee.