Tag: Marriage

We Take You Now to the Small Dog Family Flat…

…where J. has asked C. to quiz him on information for his business law class’ upcoming exam.  For some clarification of the following snippets, it is helpful to note that his study guide seems to have been compiled by blind monkeys tap dancing on a typewriter.  Let’s listen in, shall we?

“Name the conditions for unconscionability.”
“One party is Comcast?”


“Talk to me about minors.”
[J. grins slowly]
Not the ones in Chile!”


“Term meaning that the Court will leave you as it finds you.”
“Delecto.  I was mixing that up with In flagrante delicto, but I knew that wasn’t right.”
“Um, no.  No it’s not.”


“What is a ‘covenant not to complete?'”
“Uh, I think you mean ‘compete.'”
“Look.  It says ‘complete,’ right there.”
“Oh, so it does.  It’s wrong, though.”
“I could write a more coherent study guide than this!”


“Help, help, I’m being duressed!”


“Hold on!  Are they making up legal terms?”
“Looks like it.”
“But they can’t do that!  ‘Assign-ee?’  ‘Offer-or?’  ‘Oblige-or?’  These sound like video game character names!  And I’ve counted six spelling mistakes on this page alone.
“Calm down, C..”
“I can’t!  This is wrong!”


“That reminds me!  Have I showed you that YouTube clip -”
“Focus, J..”
“The one from the Simpsons?”
“It’s funny!”
“I don’t care.”
“You need to see it -”
“Pay attention or I will papercut you to death with this thing, so help me!”


“Ok.  Fraud.  Give me five examples.”
“Number one, inception.   DUNN.   DUNNNN.  DUNNNNNNNNNNN.”


“I am not a monkey.”
“Good.  Anything else you want me to mention on the blog?”
“Quiet, you.”


“Explain ‘reformation.'”
“Martin Luther nailed – ”
“We’re done.”

Food. Fights.

“I don’t like to eat snails.  I prefer fast food.”
– Roger van Oech

J. eats three or four times as much as I do.  He buys junk food and, if left to his own devices, would subsist on mac and cheese (the evil boxed kind that I like to think of as the spit of Satan), frozen burritos, and ramen bowls.  He chows down on hot dogs, burgers, and any form of fast food he can get his hands on.  If I don’t dish out dinner, he’d never eat vegetables.

Minor annoyance 1 – he’s LOST weight since we’ve been married

Minor annoyance 2 – I twit him about his eating habits from time to time, but now I’ve lost the right.  Our insurance pays for us to get our cholesterol, glucose, and other blood levels tested for free once a year.  Our results just came back.  He’s in perfect health.  Curses.

Ducklings, May I Ramble?

By all means marry; if you get a good wife, you’ll be happy; if you get a bad one, you’ll become a philosopher.
– Socrates

Confession time.  I was an excellent girlfriend when J. and I were dating.  I was independent, clever, fun to be around, liked trying new things, was optimistic, and supportive (oh, and definitely humble).  By anyone’s standards I really was a catch.

Alternatively, I’m starting to think that I really suck at being a wife.

To start out with, I am stressed all the time…but I think this is pretty understandable.  When we got married, I assumed the rent, food, utilities, car payments, insurance, two credit cards, and the general livelihood of two people, solely by myself.  Just so we are clear I am happy to do this, but I can’t lie, it’s an awfully big pressure.  I live in fear of unlikely events (pregnancy, job loss, etc.) because of how it will affect my family.  It’s a Great Big Worry to carry around all by myself and I confess, I probably exacerbate the stress by trying (in all my control freak, Small Dog glory) to plan and be prepared for every eventuality.  Which is, of course, impossible.

It’s also very hard for me to adjust my thinking to his.  His life revolves around school, I graduated two years ago and now work full time.  Most of his friends still live in the area or within an hour’s driving, most of my friends (exception of Margot and Angel) are in different states/countries and my nearby family is pretty busy these days.  Honestly, it can get terribly lonely working a subsistence job, having a thinned out support system,  and bearing the financial weight of two people.  I’ve always been pretty good at entertaining myself, keeping myself busy, but honestly it’s downright exhausting these days.

This stress builds up to the point the small things violate my sense of order.  If the rubbish isn’t taken out when I ask, if the house is a mess, if I have a bad day at work, or if…you get the idea.  Complete transformation into a snarling Gorgon.

Small things become massive disappointments, such as when J. applied for a job and didn’t get it (even though they wanted him) because he’s graduating in six months and they want someone for longer.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m not fun to be married to these days.  I’m worried, shrewish, tired, easily irritated…I’m the exact opposite of what I was as a girlfriend.  And even though I’m sure a good chunk of this can be tied to my birth control being out of whack, I’m feeling miserable about it.

Le Reception!

“When the bride is one with her lover, who cares about the wedding party?”
– Kabir

I left work at 12 on Thursday to head an hour north to Marie’s home to set up for the reception.  I didn’t get home until nearly midnight.  It was quite the event!

The single other bridesmaid I actually knew (who is an absolute darling!). And yes, she is a foot taller than me.

Sadly I’m afraid I didn’t really get on with the other bridesmaids and attendants.  Nothing malicious, you understand!  It’s just that not a lot can trump shared history and the other girls had heaps of it.  I did overhear one girl say that she had known Marie longer than me and should have been a bridesmaid instead, which sort of was a downer, but one I didn’t take too seriously as there was probably some truth to that.  They’d all grown up together in the same neighborhood, lived together for years at school, etc.  By comparison I was a babe in arms, as far as Marie’s friendship was concerned!  But then again, she asked me (hurrah!) and I was resolved to be the best damned bridesmaid the world has ever seen.


So, after a couple awkward failed attempts to join conversations about people I didn’t know, I contented myself with jumping up and down on lantern stakes to drive them into the turf, setting up tables, hanging garlands, whipping up massive gauzy decorations, organizing boys for heavy lifting, carting gifts about, and arranging flowers – all of which suited me perfectly.

There a few mishaps, the boys recruited by the groom (severely underestimating the amount of work that needed to be done) didn’t show up as early as we would have liked.  And that darling other bridesmaid up there?  Well, we sort of had to construct her dress from the pieces of two or three other dresses.  What you can’t tell in that picture is that it is fearfully and wonderfully made – the safety pins colored with sharpies, the cinching, the half dozen people draping fabric and wrapping ribbon – it was quite the project!  But it was a great joke because it turned out so well, no one but those involved were the wiser.

In fact, everything turned out gorgeously, we were thrilled.  And more importantly, so was the glowing bride!

*Hopefully I’ll be able to get more pictures of the day from Marie when she gets back from her honeymoon.  Congratulations, love!

Supply and Demand

“I want to make Korean food this week.  Let’s to to the Asian market.”
“I just got back from the store.  You can go get things without me you know.”
“I like to go with you.  You tell me what I can and can’t buy.  Because I’d come home with Korean marshmallow pies and you know it.”
– C. and J.

We do and buy strange things sometimes.

J.’s been into a new exercise regimen recently, and after begging me for a few days for a pull up bar and finding a good deal on one, I gave in.  Naturally one thing led to another and now our house looks even more ghetto as he had to take off the door to our office to use it.  I resisted that for a couple of days too, but since I have my bike sitting pretty in the front room I had lost the aesthetic appeal already and didn’t have a leg to stand on. But as he works out everyday and I ride my bike faithfully (for an hour yesterday, kittens!  My legs are jello!) I suppose the loss of a door is alright.  Except when company comes over.

Then,because summer arrived quite suddenly this year–we went from snow to heat in mere days, what gives!–I realized, as I do every year, that I was dying.  I didn’t own a single pair of shorts.  So I marched into Old Navy and bought a stack.  Jupiter, Odin, and Quetzalcoatl, what have I been missing?!  You mean wearing these things makes my legs that much less glow-in-the-dark white, and keeps me cool?  What has a professional-only wardrobe done to me?!

Finally, while doing the grocery shopping yesterday, I came across almond butter.  I’d read of its awesomeness here at Thinspired, and from various health conscious friends and so snatched it up.  Go.  Buy.  This.  Stuff.

Lifestyles of the Poor and Obscure

“It’s an area of Dublin that still has lots of character.  It hasn’t been yuppified to ****.”
Lisa’s spirits started a slow slither.  She was
desperate to live in a place that had been yuppified to ****.
– Marian Keys,
Sushi for Beginners

Every once and a while a strange urge takes hold of me, shakes me around a bit as I struggle to be free of its grasp, and and is finally, forcibly thrown off while I stagger around gasping and trying to reorient myself.  It’s the (understandable but currently impractical) desire to have an upwardly-mobile-ish change to our lifestyle.

Nothing desperate, you understand.  But maybe…an in-house dishwasher (that isn’t J., I mean).  Or a newer flat that doesn’t have creaky floors (or my Lord and Lady Stompington above us).  A second car, one that can manage the highways without 4000 rpms or a using half a tank of gas to get to the city (45 minutes away).

Now, I’m aware that I’m in one of the best phases of my life.  Newly (relatively) married, no kids, no mortgages, the ability to do nearly whatever J. and I want.  And yet…sometimes I have this strange desire to be just a bit further on.  First house together and past renting creaky flats.  First pet, instead of surreptitiously googling local breeders and the Human Society at work.  First real double income paycheck, instead of single-and-very-small checks on paydays.

Again, I feel as if this an understandable feeling, but I’m constantly shocked by what will trigger the flood of longing.  Today Wise and I headed out to get a cake for our monthly department birthday party.  The venue was Costco, wherein I have not spent previous quality time.  Oh dear.

Back, temptress!

There were boxes of strawberries that had not yet succumbed to slime and decay.  There were bags of frozen chicken that contained more than two or three breasts.  There were quality diamonds, iPods, lawn chairs, massive bags of chips, huge bales of toilet paper…yes, it was all very impressive.  But, above all, there were SAMPLES.

Wise and I wandered the store sucking down granola, salad, juice, and finally this.

And now, suddenly, I am wrestling the desire for a Costco membership, something I will probably not need until there are more than two of us…solely because I now crave a bottle of Roasted Blackberry Chipotle Sauce.  Aren’t I supposed to be craving babies or something?  Why do I want a dog and fancy fruit/chili sauce instead?

Never A Bridesmaid, Once a Bride

“Would you like to be one of my bridesmaids?”
“I’d be honored!”
“Bridesmaid…bridesmatron…?  What are you?”
“I’m not loving matron.”
“How about attendant?”
“Yes, that sounds appropriately royal!  I’d be honored to be your attendant!”
– Marie and C.

Well, well! 

Marie announced her engagement publically a couple of days ago, I got the good news early and bounced around enthusiastically in my parking lot (so as not to become the Stompingtons to my downstairs neighbors).  Then I emailed my mother and told her to ship over as many bridal magazines from the UK that she could get her hands on.  Marie tried a few months ago to steal the ones I trucked home with me to use for my own wedding, the minx.  I was thrilled to be able to send off for some of her own!

Then yesterday Hennessy texted me to say that we get to start making wedding plans for her as well.  And she walked in today with what I can only guess is a small, sparkly country on her left hand.  None of us in the office got any work done between 9 and 10 this morning.  Congratulations, Hennessy!  It’s a stunner!

Surprisingly, I’ve found I get lots more enthusiastic over my friends weddings than I did my own and I always love being included, whether it’s agonizing over flower arrangements, or being in the wedding party.  I love seeing my friends happy and will cheerfully bend over backwards for them. 

Also, I am deeply aware that the only reason my own wedding came together so well was because of the tireless effort and indefatigable support of this fantastic network of friends.  Daae offered endless tips from her days working for a wedding planner, Catriona helped me stuff envelopes for hours on end, Venice went dress shopping and helped me check out the venue, Peregrine flew cross-country to be a part of the event and drove hither and yon with Snickers to pick up flowers, Fairy housed my parents and siblings and attended every single party associated with the wedding from the bridal shower to the reception, Marie supplied food, drink, and blotting papers throughout the day in spite of not feeling up to snuff…the sucess of the whole day is a tribute to lots and lots of people doing me and J. a great many favors.

And I love to return favors!

I’m thinking Marie needs a fabulous English High Tea shower.  With decorations like these, food like this, and the usual required headgear.

Spunky Chap With His Hat at a Jaunty Angle

“Strange to see what delight we married people have to see these poor fools decoyed into our condition.”
– Samuel Pepys

The Marriage Mart, of Regency fame, is alive and well on this campus.  We’re getting close to the time of a semester (directly after finals, usually) that people rush to get married before the summer term starts up.  In fact I have a small horde of friends tying the knot in the next two months.  In a year or two, I’ll be attending baby showers.

This vid gets a Tip O’ My Hat to Sav for finding it, and check out her site for another dose  (that one in honor of the mutual lambasting by colleagues, acquaintances, and Fox News we endured for our less than hateful attitude towards current events in the capital).

Viewers Like You. Thank You.

“So Amanda stays with Darcy and Elizabeth stays in the modern world?  Why does she want to do that?”
“Birth control, indoor plumbing, and women’s rights?”
– J. and C.

Whether against his will or not, J. is slowly getting dragged into my PBS obsession, and it’s been fun to watch.

Pictured: a post-modernist moment. You may close your mouth now.

For someone who dislikes Jane Austen pretty strongly, he liked Lost In Austen quite a bit (granted, we both loved Pride and Prejudice and Zombies).  He laughed just as loud as me when the main character asked Mr. Darcy to take a dip in his pond so she could enjoy a Colin Firth-esque “post-modernist moment.”  He found the fact that Caroline Bingley was a lesbian hilarious, liked that Wickham was a good guy after all, and that Jane and Charles run off to America together.  One Sunday night he called back to where I was in the office and reminded me that Masterpiece was on in a half hour and asked if there would be another LIA installment.

She heard you, J.. Beware.

And when Dorcas Lane (of Lark Rise to Candleford fame) stated she doesn’t like to judge people, to the face of the man she’s refused to marry for having a scandalous, mistress-mongering past, and said man snaps back, “You’ve never had a problem with sitting in judgement before.  Good-day,” … it was incredibly satisfying to hear my red-blooded, football/basketball loving, hamburger devouring, man’s man, all-American husband cry, “Oh no he didn’t!  Burn!”

I’m sure he’d like me to reciprocate by learning to love basketball and Sports Center, but I’m not quite there yet.  I’ll work on it.

Money Honey

“Are you buying lunch, or am I?”
“I will.”
“Thanks.  Oh!  You also need to write me a check to replace the savings we used for car repairs.  Wow…I sound like a gold-digger.”
“You are a gold-digger.”
I beg your pardon.”
“You’re expensive.”
“I am not!”
“Well, someday, you will be expensive, so someday you will be a gold-digger.”
“No I won’t, I’ll be a trophy wife.  They aren’t the same thing at all.”
– C. and J.

Gold-digger!  The nerve of him!