Ugh, this is hard

In an attempt to procrastinate from homework I just went on a wedding blog binge that ballooned into photography and design blogs...all of which started to make me bitter and grumpy. Why can't I have a lovely home and a creative outlet that also happens to support me financially and bla bla bla bla.


C'mon Project Good Attitude, where you at? It was Thanksgiving after all.

Self: get it together and remember what you have to be thankful for.

Happy Thanksgiving

A few months after D and I started dating, he and I were lazing around one day not really knowing what to do with ourselves. I was in a funk for god knows what reason and we were trying to figure out a low-key way to entertain ourselves and put me in a better mood. We ended up at the video store (remember those?) wandering around aimlessly, like you do. Somehow we ended up in front of the Addams Family movies and I became convinced that watching Addams Family Values would make me 100% better. I turned to D, desperation (and a little bit of joy at the prospect) in my eyes and asked:

"Can we pleeeeeease rent Addams Family Values?"

Luckily for our relationship he readily agreed. It totally did the trick.

A few weeks ago the original Addams Family movie was on TV and we watched snippets in-between a football game. D turned to me and said, "You know, I really don't think I could have married you if you hadn't loved the Addams Family." Uh...Ditto babe.

In honor of those stories I bring you this, my favorite Thanksgiving-themed anything:




And yes, apparently my life is wholly defined by campy movies from the 80s and 90s.

Can I get a Boo-Ya?

I'm not gonna lie, I have had one productive-ass weekend. Because I feel like patting myself on the back a little bit, here's a list of the things I accomplished since Friday (the * connotes involvement of the Hubs in said activity)

Watched Ghostbusters*
Went pre-Thanksgiving grocery shopping (hello, nutmeg)*
Cleaned the house*
Did Laundry*
Bought new running shoes
Went on a walk
Wrote two (count 'em, two) papers
Studied for an exam for approximately 7 hours
Watched basketball with an old friend (related: drank microbrews and scotch)*


And on top of that, D$ rearranged our living room and I am waaay more excited about it than I thought I would be.

And so now, my dears, I am off to relax until tomorrow.

About that limbo

Today on the way to the grocery store D$ and I were talking about a friend of mine, who just got a really great job opportunity that will take her to NYC in a matter of weeks. D$ asked if she was scared and I was telling him that yea, she was nervous, but mostly really excited, when he said:

"Yea, that is why I am glad that next year, I will be moving with you."

I asked him to clarify and he said:

"Well, its just that all of that, moving to a new city, starting a new job, is normally so terrifying. But I'm not terrified at all, because I'm moving with you."

I just beamed.

Yea.

I did it, y'all

I cooked dinner two nights ago. Yes, this is a fairly large event in our household. During our wedding I actually vowed to Daniel that I would cook dinner once a month, but I’ve already screwed that up (unless you count making burritos, which really only happened once and barely counts as cooking anyway).

Wednesday night I found myself without a class to attend, excessive homework to do, or any other obligations. Due to my being a jerk about dinner the night before and my campaign to have a better attitude, I decided that I should pull my weight and make us dinner.

The only problem is that I honestly don’t know how to cook anything. I spent all Wednesday surveying my grad school friends about easy recipes, stressing out, and searching on the internet for easy ideas that could turn my thawing chicken breasts into something delicious. I tried to look on Smitten Kitchen, as the hubs loves that blog, but I quickly remembered that that blog just makes me bitter and insecure.

So I ended up googling “chicken spice rub,” making up my own rub since I didn’t have all of the ingredients suggested in the first search result, and going from there. D$ was enlisted to purchase wine and set the heat on the burners.

The result: delicious, if weird-looking, chicken couscous.

Was I totally proud of myself? Yes.

Did I cook in a teddy and an apron? Obviously.

Now I feel sheepish (baaa).

So as you all probably already know, Meg has asked a whopper of a question today.

Q: Your Marriage: What do you want, what do you fear? Or, What kind of marriage do you want to have?

I was going to try and answer here, but that felt like cheating off of her to make my own blog post (I have total fears of being an asshole on the Internet without meaning to). And I was completely unsure how to answer.

But the question comes at a good time for me because, as noted, I've been in a total funk about my life lately, and I'm realizing how ridiculous I was acting. I went out with a bunch of friends on Saturday night and realized that two of them are going through either separations or divorces right now. One of these women is the most friendly, engaged, and all-around good natured people I have ever met- and I realized as we all celebrated and danced that she has been that good natured and friendly and fun to be around while her marriage is in crisis. And I, who have nothing to complain about besides an obnoxious supervisor and too much homework, have been a scowly pain in the ass for weeks. When I got home that night I grabbed the hubs and took him to bed. And then later told him that I felt like a spoiled brat and that I will try and realize how damn good I have it (in all things, not just my marriage).

But...I have to think more about Meg's question before I commit anything to writing here.

Keeping me sane is teamwork, indeed.

It has been a rough couple of days. On Thursday I was hideously frustrated with school, and then I went to my yearly lady parts appointment and my [totally rad] doctor was fully pregnant and due in two weeks. And there were all these happy pregnant couples sitting in the waiting room. Long story short, I got back to school and emailed D$ to say "I want to drop out of graduate school and have a baby." Which obviously isn't a very fair thing to email one's new husband, but he responded by saying (over g-chat) "Dude let's just get preggers" before pointing out that a) I wouldn't be "big and round" until after graduation time anyway so I couldn't justify dropping out of school and b) we could just get a Slow Loris instead. We compromised; I will stay in graduate school and we will try to find a Slow Loris that I can put in little outfits.

Then, yesterday I stayed home from school to finish a job application that I had already spent hours on. Hours, people. The application was due at midnight last night and I had planned on having it done by noon, only to have the site reject my application over and over again for several hours in a row. I tried really hard not freak out; I took breaks, ran errands, repeated mantras about not wanting to move to that city anyway, and occasionally slammed my first down on the desk repeatedly. I held it together and had basically resigned myself to not applying for the job until D$ got home at around 6, when I started to lose it again.

But then my husband, my dear, sweet, large-brained, computer geek husband sat down and went through every damn text box in that damn application to figure out what was going on. And he fixed it. And I danced around and told him I loved him about twenty times, and I felt like a normal person for the first time in three days.

And then we walked to a bar to say goodbye to a dear friend, and lest you think the hubs is perfect, I should tell you that while walking he accidentally hit me in the head with our umbrella at least five times.

WANT.

I'm not normally the frilliest of girls, but...really. With the boots? I'm pretty sure I could make that work in a way that would make Tim Gunn proud.


Dress found via Etsywedding, originally from here.

I am not happy about this

I realize that a lot of this blog has been me writing strange letters to inanimate objects, and I promise that won't become my schtick, but last night after hearing about the passing of the Stupak Amendment I got an email from Barak Obama, telling me to be proud of the House for passing the Health Care Reform bill and asking for my donation.

I raved a little bit, went to bed and then lay awake and fumed. Finally, I got out of bed, hit "reply," and wrote this:

Dear whoever reads this/President Obama,


How dare you send me a triumphant email about the health insurance reform bill mere hours after the House passed an amendment to restrict insurance from covering abortions?


I am tired of revolutions selling out womens' rights; tired of being told that my rights are not as important as the common good, as whatever lofty goal needs achieving.


And as for my $5 donation: I'll be saving that so if I happen to have a life threatening pregnancy I will be able to afford the abortion that my insurance won't cover.

Today, I am still upset. I mean, I work in policy and I know that people in government have to make terrible trade-offs every day. And I do think that passing health care reform is really important, but it is just such a familiar feeling. Women (and the GLBT community) being told, once again, to wait our turn. That the time just isn't right for us. I don't have a solution, and I can't even say for sure that the Stupak Amendment will matter (D has been telling me it will die in committee and I hope he is right), but it just exhausts and disheartens me that once again I am being told that my rights and health are not as important as the greater "common good."

Oh- my silly little e-mail got returned. Apparently you just can't "reply" to the President's e-mail...

Dear The Nest Magazine: Newsletter Edition

Dear The Nest Newsletter:

Did you REALLY just send me an e-mail (to my junk e-mail address, I am not stupid enough to let you have my real e-mail address) titled "Are you in a Sex Rut?"

Really?

Are you really going to go with that stereotype-laden email to your newlywed populous you heinous monsters?

For the record, Nest Magazine, my sex life is just fine. But thanks for putting the possibility that it isn't fine into the minds of all the poor saps that think your magazine is important. By titling your e-mail that all you are doing is buying into the stereotype that once people get married their sex lives shrivel. What is wrong with you, Nest Magazine? If I open that Newsletter, will I get a Cosmo-style tip to put a scrunchy somewhere naughty to "spice things up?" Who even wears scrunchies anymore?

Ugh. UNSUBSCRIBE.

XO,
MWK

I can do this!

So, the hubs has the flu.

I feel like this is a test of my partnership duties. I want to be comforting and helpful! The thing is...I can't make soup or anything else comforting besides maybe a cup of tea.

But I can go to the local Vietnamese deli and pick up two pints of our favorite Chicken Egg Noodle Soup. And that is just what I did.