almost a month ago, i wrote my last update. i really, really need to work on disciplining myself to write regularly. i'm not ready to give myself deadlines, because then it would turn into something that would stress me out, but i need to motivate myself to write regularly. i'm so into this phase of "action steps" from work that now i feel like i need action steps for my writing. i need to write regularly for at least a few months. then... what? i should really write some new short stories and send those in for publication, somewhere. the atlantic monthly? i think that's the journal that is impossible to get into... anyway, once i decide what the next steps are (if there are any), i'll let you know via blogging (that i'll be doing regularly).
someone once told me that i write better after a few glasses of wine... and i tend to agree. actually, i think i write better when i have a purpose for my writing. lately there hasn't been much purpose behind my entries. i feel like writing antecdotes on newlywed life- funny little things that only a new husband and wife could do... but sometimes i feel bad because it's always colored in my favor, and husband doesn't love being a character. but, then again, who cares?
a story from thanksgiving, shall we?
our first thanksgiving together... i took a day off work to prepare... we were all ready. but for some reason thanksgiving morning, although i was so prepared to be in the spirit of the holidays, something wasn't clicking. maybe it was because i told him 12 times i wanted to watch the parade and he turned on some cd (surround sound, of course) at the highest possible volume, blaring some heavy rock metal-type music. fine. maybe it was because we couldn't find any tablecloths or napkins at 5 stores the night before and had to resort to going to walmart in the morning. i think i may have been hungover as well, or at least not ready to wake up, by the time we got the turkey. dad brought the turkey over early (mom had bought it fresh and kept it in their spare fridge for us). husband tried to escape before the turkey came and go to walmart for table linens. long story short, i ended up in tears before we even attempted to get the crap out of our turkey's butt (which, incidentally, had frozen in the spare fridge, so we had to ice-chip out the bag of organs and other gross body parts).
so... finally, turkey is in the oven, and we went to walmart for the linens. husband assembled candleholders while watching the game, and i peeled potatoes. throughout the day, i wonder aloud that the house didn't exactly smell like an 18 lb. turkey was roasting in the oven. husband proceeded to tell me that he couldn't smell anything beyond the cinnamon broom i bought recently at the organic food store (it is a little strong). 3.5 hours into the cooking of the turkey, i finally opened the oven to discover that when (no names please...) _______ put it in the oven and set the timer, it was only set for preheat. huh. we "cooked" the turkey in an oven that had managed to cool down to room temperature in 3.5 hours and now had no thanksgiving meal.
panic ensued. (i first screamed). husband is asking me if random restaurant/buffet places sell roasted (cooked) turkeys. phone calls were made to my family, the guests of the dinner, and i ended up crying in probably every room of our house, while simultaneously hyperventilating and discussing the highest of expectations for our first holiday meal (and first dinner party, really). finally, it turned out alright. the oven was turned on, family assured that dinner was now at 7 instead of 3, and we were able to make an early trip to the in-laws instead of a late trip over. (of course we lied to everyone there and said we meant to have dinner later). ahhh... the holidays.
someone told me today that i have a pretty nice life with my husband and our little home. and i had to agree. husband is a life-saver (especially recently when i was sick and had to go to the ER... i'll spare you the details, but it involved puking an average of every 10 minutes for 4 straight hours. poor husband spent the entire night either cleaning up after me or sitting in a plastic chair with no arms at the ER while i dozed in and out of a morphine-induced sleep)... and we are also best friends. but, beyond that (and more along the lines of what that person was talking about today), we don't worry about the things that a lot of people dating around worry about. i'm always amazed at the dating world now... it seems to be broken up into the people who want to find "the one" -- those who could use eharmony or something, those who like dates involving dinner and wine and movies, and those who aren't interested in dating but who have some loose strings that occasionally trip them up... an ex from college, or a guy they've been talking to... but for one reason or another they aren't ready to commit. it seems stressful and hard to be a girl who is approachable to guys but not ready to go home with the first guy to come up to her in a bar.
anyway, i'm glad to not have to deal with those stresses, to be comfortable with him and us and not involve any other people. in a world where it's an oddity to stay together, i'm finding more and more that i like beating the odds.
.... this post is going nowhere fast. someone want to send a cure for writer's block? i'm going to just start writing more often... they may be pointless, but i'll get somewhere eventually with these blog posts.
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I've heard it takes 60 days to make something difficult like working out, or writing, into a habit.
ReplyDeleteI've also learned to laugh at the horrible situations we bungle ourselves into every day. It can annoy people who tend to cry though. Celebrate the fact that your thanksgiving was spent (stressfully perhaps) with family - mine (all of it) was spent on planes and airports.