Every Tuesday and Thursday I force myself to sit down and write creatively for two hours as part of a school project (and also because if I don't force myself to do things with structure, they never get done).
I've realized two things:
1. I have to write while my favorite sitcoms are on in the background or I get too morose. (And if I opt for music, it has to be Bob Dylan.)
2. I relish distraction.
Today's distraction: my dad is coming tomorrow. To stay with us. For the entire weekend. We've cleared our our second bedroom and acquired a blow-up mattress and I'm convinced that if I cook him fantastic meals all weekend he'll think I'm adult and mature enough to handle the responsibilities of marriage (which has previously been up for debate).
So here's what I'm thinking:
Saturday Morning: Breakfast Burritos
Boiled potatoes, cheddar cheese, crispy bacon, sauteed onions and green peppers, and scrambled eggs all wrapped up in a warm tortilla. Green chili salsa optional (although he'll take it because he's a New Mexican). Yum!!
Saturday Picnic Lunch: Panini Sandwiches with Herbed Potato Salad and fresh fruit.
I'm thinking steak sandwiches with grilled veggies and mozzarella cheese.
Sunday Morning: French Toast
...with strawberries and a creamy brown sugar topping!
Okay, so most likely this will all end up a disaster-- the mattress will explode (I hope not; it's borrowed), he'll notice that we're paying too much for rent, and my meals will be awful and burnt and taste bad (because I've never made them before). And we'll have this moment where he says "I'll always be your dad and you'll always need me" and I'll say "I know, you should have been cooking this whole time" (because he's terrific at it) and then we'll all go out for ice cream.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Two Months of Marriage
Well, almost. Tomorrow it will be two months.
TWO MONTHS!
To be honest, this isn't what I thought marriage would be like. It's better than what I thought marriage would be like. It's like having the best of childhood and adulthood all at once. For example, yesterday we rode a carousel.
And then later, when we wanted hamburgers, since we're adults, we made them ourselves.
Isn't that a beautiful hamburger? I remember when I was a kid, whenever I wanted hamburgers we'd end up having like stroganoff, but whenever I wasn't into it, we'd have hamburgers.
Now I get to decide.
Because I can cook. Sort of.
School's going well. I'm learning a lot. For example, the other day I learned that you're supposed to say you feel nauseated instead of nauseous because if you say you feel nauseous you're saying that you make other people want to puke. Which is funny.
And work is going well for Scott. The other day he called a guy with a thick Southern accent who put the phone down randomly and Scott heard him muttering to himself, "C'mon man, I don't care 'bout you or nuttin' yous got tuh say, Ima just lay that phone rightcher n letchew talk tuh yurself..."
And, in gloriously wonderful news, my dad is coming to visit. Yep, my dad. He's going to fly to Salt Lake, rent a car, and drive four hours to Rexburg for the weekend before my birthday. I've never been in a social situation that involved my dad without my mom, and definitely not that was in any sort of visiting format, but I'm determined to show him what a grown-up I am by having a clean apartment and cooking us good meals. I'm also desperately searching for some way to entertain him while he's here; Rexburg isn't exactly a happening place for 45-year-old men. Wish us luck.
TWO MONTHS!
To be honest, this isn't what I thought marriage would be like. It's better than what I thought marriage would be like. It's like having the best of childhood and adulthood all at once. For example, yesterday we rode a carousel.
And then later, when we wanted hamburgers, since we're adults, we made them ourselves.
Isn't that a beautiful hamburger? I remember when I was a kid, whenever I wanted hamburgers we'd end up having like stroganoff, but whenever I wasn't into it, we'd have hamburgers.
Now I get to decide.
Because I can cook. Sort of.
School's going well. I'm learning a lot. For example, the other day I learned that you're supposed to say you feel nauseated instead of nauseous because if you say you feel nauseous you're saying that you make other people want to puke. Which is funny.
And work is going well for Scott. The other day he called a guy with a thick Southern accent who put the phone down randomly and Scott heard him muttering to himself, "C'mon man, I don't care 'bout you or nuttin' yous got tuh say, Ima just lay that phone rightcher n letchew talk tuh yurself..."
And, in gloriously wonderful news, my dad is coming to visit. Yep, my dad. He's going to fly to Salt Lake, rent a car, and drive four hours to Rexburg for the weekend before my birthday. I've never been in a social situation that involved my dad without my mom, and definitely not that was in any sort of visiting format, but I'm determined to show him what a grown-up I am by having a clean apartment and cooking us good meals. I'm also desperately searching for some way to entertain him while he's here; Rexburg isn't exactly a happening place for 45-year-old men. Wish us luck.
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