marriedgirl

Archive for December, 2008|Monthly archive page

On Vacatione!

In Admin Notes, Main, Why MG Isn't Updating on December 20, 2008 at 7:24 am

Married Girl is off on her annual vacation. While she will be posting, it will be sporadic.

Stay tuned, however, for Rock n’ Rolla Part II.

Otherwise, MG will return mid-January. Happy New Year and Happy Holidays to all!

And Isn’t It Ironic? Don’tcha Think?

In Getting Married, Main, Random Fantasy Land, Relationship on December 17, 2008 at 10:49 pm

There is something highly ironic about getting an international phone call about the color of the ring I want.

White gold or yellow. Over a $1/minute phone line.  Couldn’t an email have sufficed?

While we’re in a fight

While I have a high pressure, high intensity deliverable due in a half an hour. While I’m in one of the worst moods I’ve been in since June.

Again…ma-r-iage is a celebration>?!

And I still, after a minute of monosyllabic replies, said, “white”.While wondering to myself in a Sex and the City-esque manner; “if he really loved me, he’d already know I don’t want yellow gold!”

And then I promptly kicked myself, hard, as my feminist/logician leanings kicked in. “Why on earth would you expect him to know what color ring you want. He’s not telepathic. Don’t be one of those girls, Bride of Zilla!”

The now-chastened princess-fairy-queen still managed to get in a small-voiced whine. “But we’ve been dating five years. You would think he would know by now!

The now softening F/L said gently, “clearly, he doesn’t, are you really going to make a Big Deal about this? Is it worth it? Especially after all you two have been through?”

Well. It was hard to argue with that. And so, I went about my way, trying to get my work done, while trying not to be hurt, while trying not to bitchy and self-righteous about it.

And then he called. Again. And it was very hard to be the silent stoic type when he was going on about saying what he did because he was angry.

And so I let loose. With the worst possible thing I could think of.

I compared him to the Ex.

And that’s when he said good night. You see, selfish as I am, I wanted him to feel as bad as I did for his particular low blow. A little part of me was even exultant. Now he would realize how much he had hurt my feelings.

But then I promptly wanted to strangle myself. It was one of the lowest blows I could’ve come up with.  The Ex is a sensitive subject in our relationship, like most people.   So I said it. And now what? Quid pro quo? I felt, cliche of all cliches, worse than I did before.

He called back an hour later. And said “let’s forget about it”. And so we did, and tried to ease our way back into a semi-normal conversation, and ended on a happier note. “Would you prefer a bigger ring, or a ring with more color? Although I couldn’t really tell the coloring difference until they were under a microscope, honestly.”

*Chuckle*

Rock n’ Rolla Part I

In Getting Married, Main, Random Fantasy Land, Relationship on December 16, 2008 at 6:21 pm

So, I have yet to actually get a formal, knee bended, deep tender look into the eyes proposal of marriage, where once I whisper my frustrated horny love-filled “yes“,   he slips on the twenty-thousand carat sparkling platinum Harry Winston non-princess-cut* solitaire that fits oh so very perfectly on to my perfectly manicured finger, as I breathe out my dew like breath in tiny gasps, as my perfectly glossy pink lips form an ‘o’ of surprise, pleasure, and orgasm delight, while my gorgeous lotioned hand droops under the weight of said ring. “Oh” I will purr. “It’s so very heavy,” as I suck face kiss him passionately. “My new husband-to-be,” I will think to myself. “My other half.  My God. My Milky Way. My Universe. My Moment. My Dove. My… New…Everything.” And the violins swell, the Vienna Boys Choir hits a high note, and the pink clouds in front of the setting sun high on this warm plateau in this impossibly beautiful mountain top, under a vivid starry sky-to-be, turn even pinker with our combined joy as we begin our holy journey to becoming a whole and sacred Union. A Marriage. A Two Become One. A…what.the.fuck?!

There are many, many things wrong about this scenario.

Firstly, because He is in grad school and can’t, theoretically at least, afford a ring yet,there shall be no proposal, because there shall be no ring. At least until He receives his signing bonus. And then at least, there is a slight hope of a piece of diamond to give a home to on my caring, loving hand. But that, it seems, is a ways off right now. And Harry Winston? Twenty-thousand carats?  When hell freezes over.

In the movies, the heroine spends all her time up to the proposal guessing, and waiting, and wringing her hands in despair until the hapless hero gets his act together and finally, finally!, Proposes. And there is excitement and kissing and cries of “He Went to JARED!”. But that’s not the case here! There will be no surprise in this affair. We already know we’re getting married! Being proposed to now is like tube-icing on a pre-baked-from-the-grocery-store-cake. The cake is frosted already, folks! Icing is just extra, useless, calories now!

And what is with the girl being a wringer-of-hands and Scarlet O’ Hara incarnate? I’m no Genteel Lady. I know what I want and He’s got it. Dangling between his legs. That’s what she said. And we both went into this relationship with a long-term view. No starry-eyed-maiden I, I have never been the kind that treats marriage as a sacred anything. Except, perhaps, the sacred duty of making him do the damn laundry, for once.

Numberly, He and I have made a career out of being the goofy, loud-mouthed,  hormone-crazed couple. How does one go from Public Grope-Fest central to passionate, romantic, and something out of a early nineteenth-century novel set in Elizabethan England? Simple answer? You don’t! Else you’d both burst out laughing, and sacrilege of all sacrileges, ruin the moment. He, of course, takes it to a whole other level. “Baby, rings in glasses of champagne are so idiotic”. (I know!). “I’m just going to give you the ring in front of two hundred other people at a party or something.” (Gak!)

And I bite my nails! There will be no manicured lotioned hands . Knowing Him, he’ll roll over in bed one morning while I have peeling cuticles and dried saliva on the corners of my mouth, and ask me, whether I want my ring, finally. Honey-dew breaths?! More like, omg, get your mouth out of my face, dude.

Ok, so perhaps he wouldn’t be as bad as all that. In fact, He imagines himself as quite the romantic. I know there will be soft voices and tender looks, bended knees, and kisses for the books. But that.will.be.so.very.cliched. And me? I don’t do cliched! While I would pretend to be as awe-struck by the import of the moment, underneath it all, a very small part of me would be like, oh God, this is way too cliched. Yuck. What will I blog about now?!

In summary, being proposed to, I suppose, is one of the most overhyped, overrated, overcommercialized things out there. But underneath it all, the material-girl I-am-a-princess-fairy-queen/the-Wedding-Industry-Got-To-Me part of me does want a proposal, a ring, and a happy ending, (who doesn’t?), and He has been known to blow my mind occasionally, so perhaps my misgivings are, well, misguided. And the proposal will be Us.  And we will live hornily-ever-after. Perhaps. But I’m warning you. If it turns into that set of mush up above, well, God help me, you’ll never hear about it here!

The End.

But, but, but, you sputter. You’re missing the point here! How are you getting married without a proposal? How do you even know that He wants to get married??! You even started this blog with a name like Married Girl, and yet, you aren’t getting married? Or at least don’t have a formal declaration of ma-r-iage! Are you crazy?

Rock n’ Rolla Part II (Coming Soon): How it is that I’m getting married, without aforementioned proposal.
* Don’t even get me started on the American jewelery industry and the perfect princess cut ring. That may have to be an encore piece all by itself to this mini-series.

PS: Tiffany’s is for poor people. Yuck!

It’s In My Head, Dammit!

In Getting Married, Main on December 12, 2008 at 5:00 pm

So, it seems that brides around the planet will finally, have their long-cherished dream of having the designer make the dress as they have, literally, imagined all their lives.

From Tech On Japan:

Japanese Group Reconstructs Visual Images From Brain Activity Patterns.

Dec 12, 2008 19:24
Yousuke Ogasawara, Nikkei Electronics


The drawing illustrates the “visual image reconstruction” technology developed by the Advanced Telecommunications Research Institute International (ATR) and others, which reconstructs figures seen by a subject into images by measuring human brain activity.


A conceptual diagram of the visual image reconstruction technology will be on the cover of a US magazine “Neuron.” The figures and alphabetical letters in the background are the images used in the experiment. The images in the film were actually reconstructed from the brain activity, according to ATR.

A Japanese research group developed the “visual image reconstruction” technology to reconstruct figures seen by a subject into images by measuring human brain activity.

Read more here.

The question remains however, whether the designer will ever get it right based on our exacting bride’s self image of being, of course, a perfect size 0 in said wedding dress.

Nuts & Bolts. Mostly Nuts.

In Getting Married, Main, Relationship on December 11, 2008 at 7:15 pm

Registries?

Wedding Web sites ?

Are you kidding me?

What is all this nonsense surrounding weddings anyway?  Save the dates? Send an announcement to the newspaper for both your engagement and actual marriage?

And why is that I’m doing it all, while He gets away with doing nothing by providing the following cliched aw-inducing-now-irritating statement:

“Baby, I don’t care about any of these things, I just want you.”

Oh, very easy.

I call bullshit.

Oh, and doing it right now, after he said “you know what, I am getting married to a fat girl” last night after a very frustrated lash out by yours truly on the subject of hating the gym, seems so stupid. What are we celebrating? The union of these two souls?

I’m hurt enough that I’m questioning this wedding. Some union.

New York, New York

In Getting Married, Main, Relationship on December 10, 2008 at 4:50 pm

So, He decided to accept the job offer in New York. While He will be making serious G’s, and I will still be working before/after the wedding, He has serious student loans. So, for the first year, He will be using his Gs to pay off that loan, and I will be supporting the two of us for rent/cash/food/life.

This makes me very unhappy, not because of the supporting Him factor, because that I don’t mind (honestly!), but because I have to do this supportation in New York.  Where my money is going to mean nothing.  Which means a standard of living hit.

That makes me unhappy.

Remind me again why I’m getting married…

In Getting Married, Main, Relationship on December 9, 2008 at 3:15 pm

He uses far too much moisturizer, more toilet paper in a week than I use in a month and then refuses to change the roll when it’s on its last shreds, refuses to help me fold my laundry, even though helping me get through it would get me in bed faster, and less irritable because of the resulting lack of sleep.  He won’t even volunteer to do the dishes, even though there’s a fair half share of his dirty dishes there, and then has the nerve to act like I should plan better, even though I’ve been with him all weekend?

Suddenly, married life is looking very, very grim.

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