Category Archives: Love & Marriage

Silly kind of love

Backstory: H used to make a little hoo noise anytime water was too hot in the shower.  I’d be in the other room or brushing my teeth or whatever and hear “hoo!” from behind the curtain.  I made the mistake of telling him I loved the “hoo” and immediately stopped hearing it forever more.

I was getting ready in the bathroom mirror this morning.  He said from behind the shower curtain,

H: This shower is always the wrong temperature.

Me: What’s wrong with it?

H: It’s too hot.

Me: Huh, that’s weird.  I’ve never heard you say anything before, but I guess you don’t “hoo” anymore.

H: How do you know?  You aren’t in here.

Me: Oh, I’d hear a “hoo.”

H: Okay Horton.



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The Car Incident

I can’t call what happened a car accident because there was no actual accident.  There was no crunching or crashing or other car injury.  H and I were fine after the fact, however, it was stressful as all heck.

We went to visit family over Memorial Day.  We are 6 hours from my parents and about 8 from his.  We were visiting around the South Dakota lakes that have been really floody this spring.  Things had improved substantially, so we ventured forth in our trusty sedan.  Well, it was a bit too much for the car to handle.  Over the bumps and valleys, mud, and little streams across roads, our undercarriage bumped a few times.  It wasn’t behaving badly, so we headed back to my parents house from his.

We left a bit earlier than planned because bad weather was supposed to arrive about 5:00 pm.  At 4:45, we were driving along, in 30 mph winds, when all of a sudden we heard a great “woosh” sound and the car was being pulled.  H thought that we’d popped a tire.  We pulled over on the interstate where people were travelling 80 mph.  We checked tires, which were fine.  Then we got to looking underneath the car, which revealed that our plastic spatter shield had fallen half off.

After a little bit more fiddling on the ground, we decided to call AAA.  This was decided as H was trying to puzzle out the problem.  He was considering and qualifying, like any good engineer will do, but I wasn’t having any of it.  The weather was supposed to get bad at any moment, so I needed a decision.  After my kind prompting, which may have been a bit of a yell, he said we should call AAA.

I will pause this story to endorse AAA.  You may not need them frequently.  You may not need them for years at a time, but when you need them, you need them so much!   Everyone in the world should have a AAA membership.  It is important.  They’ll bring you gas or tow you and help you when you’re distraught.  AAA is important!

The person we spoke with told us that it could be an hour before someone got there.  We were listening to Dracula on audiobook and had plenty of gas, so we proceeded like we had been without the forward motion.  About 5 minutes later (now about 5:05), the AAA guy got there.  He got the ruined spatter shield off the car and got us back on the road.  He even followed us for a few miles.

So, we’ll have to get a new spatter shield and refrain from taking our car off-roading or country roading again.  Car incidents are still no fun, even if everything turns out okay.

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The Davenport

As I am sure you have missed me terribly, I can only apologize for my inability to blog regularly, but not feel worse about it.  I’ve been busy.  Not only have I finished graduate school, been offered a grown up job, accepted this grown up job to begin next month, and signed a lease on a new, 300 square feet bigger, 40 years newer condo with H, but  we have purchased a davenport.  This davenport or couch, (ignore the ugly pillows) will officially be moving into our new apartment shortly after we do and before we ever dream of having people over.

I don’t know why the purchase of a couch is such a big deal, but it is.  Maybe it is because only grown ups go into furniture stores and buy things other than futons for dorm rooms, but I am feeling really adult about this whole couch ownership process.  I was feeling so inspired, that I actually purchased two pieces.  To go with our sage green couch that will match our existing furniture quite well, we purchased a sage green ottoman.  It is double wide so we can both put our feet or food or extra visitors on it, but it is also a storage ottoman.  No more will our unsightly blankets have to be exposed for the cruel eyes of the world to see, but will be tucked away, safe from prying eyes.

My mom suggested that I take a series of before and after pictures of our living quarters to commemorate this change.  She got slightly sentimental and said, “Soon your first apartment will only be a memory.”  It’s an odd thing to be attached to an apartment complex built in the 60s that will be bull dozed next year (no, I’m really not kidding about that), but it is the place where we have spent the first year and a half of our married life,  playing, arguing, and doing laundry.  Who knows if I will ever miss this place one we’ve moved out, but I know that there will be a few pictures to commemorate all 620 square feet of our first apartment.


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A Little Schmaltz

H and I started dating the day after Thanksgiving, 2005.  (This was nearly exactly 5 years from the day that we started dating in 2000 at 14 and 15 years old, which lasted 3 weeks.)  That means that H and I have been together for 5 years.  In February, we’ll have our one year anniversary, so I will not be able to celebrate our dating anniversary anymore, so I am going to use this as one last opportunity to be schmaltzy about dating my husband.

We started talking the summer I was 19 and by Thanksgiving, things had progressed somewhere new.  He was even pretty darn romantic for a broke 20 year old.  That Christmas, he took me to a city park built around water falls.  It was all lit up with white lights that reflected on the snow.  We walked and talked, holding mittened hands in the freezing, freezing Midwestern winter weather.

We went to college six hours apart, so we had no choice but to talk on the phone.  We would talk about important things and unimportant things.  I even played World of Warcraft with him and his college buddies.  I gave up on the game during my senior year of college, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to geek out.  We would see each other every 4 to 6 weeks for visits and holidays at home.  We had adventures getting to know each other and cheering each other on during design projects and papers.

He moved 12 hours away from college, staying six hours away, just in the other direction for his grown up job.  I joined him a year later for graduate school, where he helped me move into my new apartment.  This meant we got to see each other every weekend and sometimes a day or two during the week.  We got engaged in October 2008, on my maternal grandparents’ wedding anniversary and the rest is history.  Here is to my lovely husband, and the last time I can get mushy about our dating anniversary.

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Uh Oh, Sick Hubberton

I’m a bad blogger.  Getting prepared for my new academic year has made me neglect my blog.  I shall try to remedy this immediately, but in an uncommitted way.

Today went as usual for me, however, when H got home, he was puny.  I am not used to taking care of him when he isn’t feeling well.  I’ve got all my systems and signs figured out, but he is a totally different person with totally different issues and triggers.  I don’t know how to fix him!  I even called my mom for recommendations.

I then realized this is a preview of my life when I have a child.  (No, we’re not having babies soon.) I will have no idea what is wrong with it 99.9% of the time, at least for awhile.  Crap.

However, clueless as I may be, I am trying to take care of my under the weather husband.  We had plans to go to a friend’s comedy show tonight.  Instead of going out, we’re staying in.  He’s headed to bed at 9:30 and I’ll be quiet as a mouse in the other room for an hour to let him get good deep rest.  Maybe marriage is just a precursor to parenting with taller, more able bodies subjects.  Shh.  He’s sleeping.

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A Grown Up Job

I will be graduating with my second master’s degree in about 10 months.  That means I need to have a job in less time than that.  We could probably survive for a little while without any income from me, but it would not be ideal for a few reasons.  I would be a panicky, snappy mess and then finances would get tight.

To attempt to prevent these problems, I have been sprucing up my resume, contacting my references and getting prepared to job search.  If I enter the job market sooner rather than later, there will be less lag between school and job.

There is one problem with this.  When I try to start job searching, I get a constricting feeling in my chest.  The insides of me start trying to crawl out my throat and scream at me that they want to be free.  I am overwhelmed by how small I am, insecurity and the lack of confidence I feel with this whole process.  I am an educated, smart woman, but looking at job listings has me whittled down to a mess.

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Mawwaige is what bwings us togevah today.  Or rather, marriage is what brings us together this weekend.  Tonight, H and I are hitching all of our stuff into our car along with a wedding present and driving back home.  His brother will have a rehearsal and bachelor party tomorr0w, a dinner/mini reunion on Saturday, and the wedding Sunday.  H is a groomsman and has to wear a tux outside in August.  I feel kind of bad for him, but also believe I’ll need to gloat a bit because I’ll be sitting in air conditioning at my parents house for as long as possible about a mile away.

I feel like I need to bring some of the jugs of water that we used to use during band camp.  They’re a gallon or two of water and ice that stay cold really well.  I feel like the bridal party will need to hydrate to avoid passing out.  Luckily, it is supposed to be below 80 for Sunday.  I am hoping for a breeze.  I’m also considering investing in one of those little fans that can be purchased in china town for a dollar.  It won’t be that glamorous, but I might avoid sweating to death.

Outdoor wedding here I come.  I’ll just have to tell ushers that yes, the water jug really is my purse.

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