Love for my attractive male partner has forced me to do something so profane, so perverse, that I shudder at the mere thought of it.
I'm going to a Cowboys' game.
I'm so cold on the inside...
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Ch-ch-changes
My darling piece of manmeat and I lived together (in dirty sin) for nearly three years before we got married. I personally thought that the only change married life would bring would be a joint checking account. I thought I'd share some of these changes with the only thing that listens to me-the internet.
Being married means that you no longer can avoid traveling to family functions. Even if that means driving to Kentucky with hubster, hubster's brother, and hubster's niece. Even if that means that hubster's racist cousin will refer to you as a "liberal Northern woman."
Being married means that your housecleaning gene will be activated. In the previous three years of living together, I can say that I successfully managed to avoid cleaning our apartment. That is one thousand and ninety five days of living in piles of my own rapidly expanding debris. SURELY this is a record of some sort! I have never met a piece of paper that was screaming to be thrown away.
I found myself cleaning the shower the other day. While I was showering.
Being married means that I actually use my cookbooks now. Well, by cookbook I mean "the back of the box instructions", but if I put it in a pan it counts as cooking.
Being married means that somebody nice (or five somebody nices) will buy you an orange Kitchenaid mixer. Sweet.
Being married means that people will take you seriously when you say "husband". This same respect was not given when you would say "fiance" or "betrothed". Apparently more jewelry means more respect. Good thing I have three wedding bands.
Being married means that your bridegroom will continue to bite his nails, even though everytime he does it it makes you want to poke your own eye out with his fingernail clippings. That's ok- I still say "fuck" fourteen times a minute. Some things just don't need to change.
Being married means that you no longer can avoid traveling to family functions. Even if that means driving to Kentucky with hubster, hubster's brother, and hubster's niece. Even if that means that hubster's racist cousin will refer to you as a "liberal Northern woman."
Being married means that your housecleaning gene will be activated. In the previous three years of living together, I can say that I successfully managed to avoid cleaning our apartment. That is one thousand and ninety five days of living in piles of my own rapidly expanding debris. SURELY this is a record of some sort! I have never met a piece of paper that was screaming to be thrown away.
I found myself cleaning the shower the other day. While I was showering.
Being married means that I actually use my cookbooks now. Well, by cookbook I mean "the back of the box instructions", but if I put it in a pan it counts as cooking.
Being married means that somebody nice (or five somebody nices) will buy you an orange Kitchenaid mixer. Sweet.
Being married means that people will take you seriously when you say "husband". This same respect was not given when you would say "fiance" or "betrothed". Apparently more jewelry means more respect. Good thing I have three wedding bands.
Being married means that your bridegroom will continue to bite his nails, even though everytime he does it it makes you want to poke your own eye out with his fingernail clippings. That's ok- I still say "fuck" fourteen times a minute. Some things just don't need to change.
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