Finishing our evening Bible reading:
Logan: “What time is it?”
Logan: “Oh my word! I had no idea it was SO. LATE!”
Discussing the names of our future children:
Logan: “I feel like you’re relegating all of my ideas to middle name status.”
Me: “What are you talking about?”
Logan: “You know, like Hazard. . . . ”
Me: “Hazard. has NEVER. even been a middle name option. Ever.”
Logan: “I thought you said we could use it for a middle name!”
Me: “I probably said we could use it for a dog’s name.”
Logan: “But we don’t want a dog.”
Me: ” . . . .”
I’m not the only critic: Me: “How about Eleanor?”
Logan: “EVERYONE would IMMEDIATELY think of Eleanor Roosevelt.”
Me: “She’s been dead for many years.”
Logan: “It’s a cultural reference.”
Me: “You’ve never even heard of Beyonce*. What do you know about cultural references???!”
—*note: this is not something I hold against the man.
On cleanliness: Logan: “Is this a chip on the floor?”
Me: “That would imply that I ate the chips while you were gone . . . and that I was too lazy to vacuum . . . would you imply those things about your wife???!!?” Continue reading “Snippets”→
It’s been a while since I’ve blogged . . . if you don’t count book reviews, it’s really been over a year. Mostly because boyfriends and wedding planning takes time. Husbands and housekeeping take time, too, but I’m not adding those responsibilities to school.
I only had one boyfriend, by the way. I know it says “boyfriends” and “husbands” but there’s only one. His name is Logan and he’s the coolest. I may or may not have mentioned him in the past. Long before we dated. But you’ll have to sleuth that out yourself.
Anyhow. I’ve just felt like writing for a while, so I’m finally doing it right now. Mostly because doing anything else (putting away the clothes I just finished folding, sorting out even MORE boxes of things, sewing, etc.) would require moving off this couch. . . and moving off this couch would mean giving up my blanket. And giving up my blanket would make me cold. It’s hard to keep a house warm, y’all. Especially when you’re the one paying the electric bills.
**Note to those in Des Plaines: You’re frigid right now, but you can turn on your space heater without obsessing about energy usage. Be thankful for the little things.
I’m rambling, quite shamelessly. Sometimes I wish I had a cool blog where I took artsy pictures of the cute things I’m doing with my house. But you really don’t want to see artsy picture evidence of me washing clothes and sorting out our closet and balancing our budget on a fancy Excel spreadsheet, do you? And that’s about all the cuter I’ve gotten so far, though I have lots of other ideas of nifty and blog-worthy projects. However, all those ideas require something: curtain rods, painter’s dropcloth, spraypaint. So I’m occupying myself with things I have on hand, like dirty or wrinkled laundry. Not even kidding. I ironed basically Logan’s and my entire wardrobe yesterday. Now I can dress him in different outfits on Sundays instead of the one non-wrinkly shirt he had.
Should I be ashamed? We’ve lived here a month and I just yesterday ironed my husband’s shirts. My mom brought me a bunch of sewing goodies from her and Grandma’s stashes and I haven’t even plugged in my sewing machine yet. (Though I DID finally get the office/sewing room organized enough to fit a chair by my sewing desk!) My fabulous sister-in-law took gazillions of gorgeous wedding photos and I have not hung even one on my walls.
Getting married is probably the best thing ever . . . but this also the biggest change of my life. I don’t really know if I’m handling it well or not. Some days I’m proud of all I get done, and some days I huddle beneath my blanket on the couch and pretend to be creative by stalking other people on Pinterest.
I don’t know how to finish this post. It was meant to be a cheerful little hello and life update to get me back into blogging, and it turned into a ramble about . . . about . . . I don’t even know exactly what I’ve been talking about. To-do lists and ironing and Pinterest and energy bills . . . welcome to life after college.
For the record, I actually enjoy ironing. Surprising, somewhat, as I never did much growing up; Ruth loved the job, so I let her enjoy it. And I almost NEVER ironed anything at school because it was so much hassle. Proof: Logan asked me Sunday if the blouse I was wearing was new. I’ve had it–and loved it!–for several years . . . but cotton blouses, no matter how cute, just never made it from hanger to ironing board at college.
I’m enjoying budgeting and keeping track of bills and receipts, too, for the most part. I mean, it’s not exactly enjoyable to watch your money turn into a still-chilly house and a milk jug that’s going to be empty terribly soon. But it’s nice, at least, to be able to see exactly where it’s all going and find ways to stretch it far enough to buy your husband 1/2 pound Reese’s cups for his birthday. (They were at Ollie’s . . . and we had a coupon . . . and he’s been working really hard.)
So I don’t mean to be a whiner about grown-up married life or anything. It’s super great and I absolutely love it. It’s just different than college single life, and I’m still getting used to it.
Okay, I have to put away this laundry for reals now. And start thinking about supper. Bye, blogosphere. I’m going to go do some married woman things.