The first being I just celebrated my ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY-OH-MY-GOD-WE-DID-IT! and to celebrate that I flew back east for a weekend to surprise my husband. It was the hottest night Pittsburgh had ever seen, and I was not wearing makeup or good-smelling clothes, but he saw me standing outside of a restaurant that he had plans at...and it was all the sappy/happy/heart dropping/butterflies mix that you can imagine. I won't get in to the details of the weekend, but we had a very good time. And the very good time involved a platter of fried fish the size of my head. We don't hold back on romantic weekends.
So, I didn't blog for a while because I was almost sure I would blow my own cover. And then I didn't blog because the lure of mint green pajamas and "Mad Men" streaming on my computer held more allure. BUT THEN I realized that if I kept up said habit I would probably never finish college, thus making this whole "wife experiment" thing a joke. So I tried. I bought my books. I even read a few, and remembered to bring a pen to class once and awhile.
I'm not proud that I've let myself succumb to the pity-tea-party for one. I guess...well, here is the truth. Besides a few people here in California, (and I mean few, like, few-few-few....) most of my life and support system is...elsewhere. My closest friends live in a scattered handful of states. My husband is thousands of miles away. The people I like on a daily basis tend to live near him. Or in Seattle. (Hi, Ashley M.) So, it makes me cranky. It made me walk to Trader Joes in a fog, buy the most RANDOM SHIT, come home, cook some of that random shit up in the kitchen...and sob.
Do you ever think: "What the hell am I doing here?" I feel that. I know the answer of course, but it is not that easy. With the people I'm with, with the things I worry about, with the weird crap I put in my mouth...all I can think is: "WHAT AM I DOING?"
My fish is home, which is great news. I have someone to talk to over my mini wheats in the morning. The other day I actually took a video of me "training" him (he follows my finger...which is usually pushed down far in the water, so he has no choice but think "what the fuck is this thing? I'm going to follow it, the bastard!" so it is not really training, but whatever.) I've discovered "Mad Men." I talk to the characters on my screen. I accidentally smoked a cigarette the other day, (long story,) I found a scotch brand that has a flat side so it fits in my cupboard easily. I bought a pair of pants! So, I guess you could say I have a lot going on. And I do. I look forward to mopping at the end of the day because it takes up ten minutes and it gets rid of the dead-mold-garlic smell of the apartment. I febreeze my comforter every morning, like I defecate on it daily or something. I've become obsessed with febreeze! I'm not joking when I say that these things fill my time, and they make me happy. In some weird- I need medical help kind of way...they make me happy.
You can't always rely on the people in your life. But you can rely on your can of febreeze and your swifter. They will never do you wrong...and they remove the dirt and grime from underneath your feet...they don't add to it.
So I guess you could say, I am a lucky girl.