Tuesday, April 14, 2009

The dog doesn't know to go to bed.

My life is so lame.  But weird. And awesome.  

I'm feeling conflicted. 

I decided today that I'm going to school through the summer.  My response: 

Well, duh.  FIRST watch "the biggest loser", which is not only the best show ever, but the only redeeming show on television.  I fucking love that shit, and now I have dry eyes from crying, (which I do every week).  That show and LOST are my only two favorites and LOST is such a pile of turd, but I can't turn away.  I'm too invested and it's too satisfying. 

I met up with Steve and Ann today.  Steve is the dude that got me into law school by writing by resume and making it sound awesome (which was fairly difficult, since the most I've done is like drink alcohol and make lattes) and his wife Ann, who went to law school and now works for West publishing in a super boring job, but makes a shit ton of money.  

Steve is a chef. Ann is a lawyer.  Sort of reflects my own life.  

They've been married 30 years and made it work. BUt here's the thing.  Steve had a goal.  He not only had an undergraduate degree-he got his masters and wrote a fucking book!  My husband seems like he's just hanging out.  And I hate it when he's all depressed and music is the only thing that makes him happy.  It's a bad sign.  

He complains about the house, and the chores, and the responsibility.  Finally I was like, BABE-fuck you a million times over because I feel like I'm the one that MADE us buy this house ( I supplied the down payment) and encouraged the dog, and forced the marriage, and maybe I would like a little romance or thanks in return for basically me turning your life around from being some roommate/pot-smoking musician into a responsible home-owning husband.  

BUT maybe he didn't want that.  Maybe he wanted to be the pot-smoking roommate. 

Ahhh...I really don't think so.  I wanted to marry the dude for some reason.  Here's the thing.  
That asshole needs to reach WAY down deep and figure out what he wants to do with this one, short, sweet life.  I want him to be satisfied, fulfilled, happy.  I don't want some bump on the couch that complains all day.  

I'm moving on with my life.  figuring out what I can.  I can't hand-hold him into a sense of worth for him.   He needs to know-what can I handle-what am I able to figure out-who do I want to serve? 

Sometimes when I get pissed and frustrated, I remember.  I remember that person I fell in love with-so deeply.  Not to sound like a total asshole, but in that love I found myself.  It's amazing, but true.  I tumbled into someone that gave me permission to be myself.  It sounds so simple, but when you live it-it's unreal.  

I became myself and I wanted to marry him.  This is how I feel about marriage.  This is why EVERYONE should be legally allowed to engage in it.  

I was 100% committed to the idea of him becoming my family.  My other.  I wanted to kiss him on my honeymoon ( see above) and deal with all the administrative shit after the fact.  

Let me tell you, the " after the fact" is really what marriage is about.  

Sometimes I can't stand the look of his face, other's I want to make a pact to die together because I can't imagine living without him by my side.  

that's what long-term love is.  It's overcoming the hormonal/chemical connection (that is proven to wear off after 5 years) 

It's overcoming the momentary issues (when it's not meant to be-you know it). 

It's standing at the aisle in front of 100 family/strangers and declaring your ultimate love in front of a God you don't really believe in (but believe in enough to capitalize), an idea of commitment and sacrifice.  An idea of love that exists, not all the time, but sometimes.  In the glance, in the touch of your fingers, in paying God damn bills together.  That belief that sometimes is enough, that the sacrifice is worth it.  That at the end of the day-the only person the gives your orgasms and light and calls you on your bullshit is worth all the conflict.  

He's the one you marry in a Russian vodka bar and the one you go away with to a sheltered resort in Wisconsin.  He's the one you kiss in a photo and it doesn't seem cheesy-although if it were anyone else it would.  

In the middle of the night-when you're worried and anxious and you feel the most alone.  

Who's there? 

They are.  The ones that sleep with you.  

Unconscious, but subconsciously alert to your slightest touch and movement.  Spooning a little bit tighter, moving their leg so you can slip yours in between, loving you even though you are vulnerable-alone-afraid or unsure-holding you tight and not judging that your belly had started to spill over the edge of your pajama bottoms just a bit more.  

THEY are what you've been waiting for.  It may not always be exciting.  

It make not always be romantic.  

But it is real-and it is you-and it is them.  

It is a kiss on a honeymoon  declaring-I am yours-no matter what.  

Beyond that-What is there? 


  1. Seriously, Biggest Loser is the best show EVER! I cannot watch it without being moved to tears.

  2. Isn't it great?! I'm rooting for Tara and Kristin and I am secretly attracted to Jillian Michaels in the sense that i either want to be her be trained by her.