As anyone who’s read more than a single post of this blog knows, Paul and I started dating when we were 13. Since childhood sweethearts are so rarely in the news, my fingers couldn’t type fast enough once I stumbled upon a certain somewhat offensive Canadian study. Continue reading
That's really our bedroom! But it's only that clean because our apartment is for sale.
Sorry for the Mafioso title; Paul and I recently started watching The Sopranos for the first time…the day BEFORE James Gandolfini died.
It’s a symptom of your early 30s (in my part of the country anyway): The wedding invitations gradually stop showing and baby shower invitations start picking up. In fact, this year, Paul and I were invited to only two weddings. On May 19th, my friend Jenn married her longtime love, Karina, and then, for the first time in nine years, Paul and I didn’t have a single engaged friend. Continue reading
Who couldn't make friends in this serene setting?!
That's Bert dancing on the left. Just kidding; he wasn't invited to this happy hour.
This past Friday, Paul went to his friend’s birthday party. I wasn’t feeling great (I’ll blame the free buffet at the Chinese New Year celebration in our apartment complex), so I stayed in. A pal of the birthday boy went around taking pictures of the revelers, including this unfortunate one of my husband. Continue reading
Everyone who knew me at Paulo Intermediate School knew at least two things about me: that I had big teeth (still do) and that I had a big crush on my classmate, Paul. Telling everyone I encountered about the object of my affection embarrassed Paul; he’d gone through physical puberty before his brain had a chance to catch up. In retaliation for the humiliation, and probably in an effort to inspire me to move on to the next poor, unsuspecting sixth-grader, Paul teased me mercilessly. Continue reading
I don’t enjoy being angry. I much prefer to talk about butterflies and sing. Truly. But when you’re with someone for 17 years, you’re bound to get mad about something. I try to limit livid responses to only Paul’s most abhorrent actions. Still, on occasion, I’ve become furious over admittedly stupid things. Here are the highlights. Continue reading
Last week, I asked one of Paul’s co-workers what she’s wearing to their company’s semi-formal holiday party. She went on to describe two beautiful-sounding options and asked me to help her choose. Then, she asked what I was wearing to the event. “Oh, I’m not invited,” I said sadly. Shock crossed her face. Here’s why I suspect that happened. Continue reading
I don’t know if you heard, but there was this hurricane called Sandy in the Northeast earlier this week. Paul and I were two of the extremely lucky ones in New York–no damage to our home or car and we haven’t lost power. (But of course, we’re devastated by the images of destruction in our hometown of Staten Island and the other affected areas.) The storm had an unexpected side effect: forcing us both to do our separate jobs in our not-huge apartment for a few days (and counting), which made me realize some surprising things. Continue reading