It Would Be Easier If We Just Ran The Gauntlet Down The Aisle

04/09/2012 · 86 comments

in Adrian, How Did My Life Come To This, I'm A Terrible Person, Psychological Warfare, What Is Wrong With You?

Cosmopolitan’s infinite and wondrous knowledge base, Oprah, and all shows on CBS will tell you that you can, and should, test your relationship. In the back of each issue is a way for you to feel superior to newsprint when you cheat the system and prove once and for all that you have a solid love.

“Is He Your Soul Mate?” If you selected all A’s and are a total asshole, then yes.
“What’s Your Fight Style?” Lock myself in the closet and cry on my shoes? All B’s, yes.
“Will You Last Forever?” All C’s and a pocketful of roofies and rum says yes.

It’s all bullshit. There’s no book, no therapy, and no daytime talk show host (minus Sally Jesse Raphael. God Bless You and your red glasses) who could test your relationship quite as well as some common activities that we all go through every day.

Adrian and I have failed each and every one of them.

Deliverance Was Just An Allegory For Failed Marriages

Teamwork is a solid foundation of any good and long-lasting relationship. Naturally, Adrian and I have absolutely none.

We recently learned (as in, Saturday) that there is no greater test of teamwork than trying to paddle a canoe. The front person is the power, the back is the steering, but you can’t look at one another and are forced to communicate through only voice commands. For us, ‘voice command’ meant ‘shouting and hatefulness.’


If you aren’t ready to hilariously murder each other to death with the neon plastic paddles at the end of your river journey, you win.

The 9th Level Of Hell Is A Maelstrom of U-Hauls

Moving is awful. Moving by yourself is worse. Moving with someone you love is the deepest and most excruciating level of Hell. Not because moving is stressful, but because we all know how to move the right way, and no one else does, so shut it, goddamn you.

I am a woman of efficiency. I have a plan in my head about exactly how the truck will be loaded, everything fits perfectly and we leave on time. Then Adrian comes along and can’t read my mind and Fucks. It. All. To. Hell.

Where Adrian sees an unfinished challenge, I see a grave failure of efficiency and time management. He has no problem with taking things back out if in his slamming of shit in places, it doesn’t all fit. We have to load it again, and again, and again one last time because it’s still fucked up oh and also it’s now 7 PM. At a certain point, I give up entirely, and just sit on the couch in the driveway (until Adrian is done loading for the last time) coming up with names for the truck.

It’s easy to hate less when I keep referring to the truck as, “The Triumph of The Seas.”

The Chair Goes Here Because FUCK YOU THAT’S WHY

Adrian and I solved our U-Haul issue by just hiring movers (which proved to be the best idea ever), but we still dread the last test of marriages we put ourselves through every year: decorating our home. We can never agree on where to put anything, so for weeks, we just  remind ourselves of failure and leave everything scattered around the floor to kick around like sad expensive leaves.

One weekend, we’ll finally decide to be real grown-ups and put everything up. That is a weekend of sadness.

It starts with toolboxes and good intentions and ends with me just slamming a giant-ass railroad nail into the wall for a 3×5 photo and Adrian dropping the level on my face for the 65th time.

You can actually see the progression of deteriorating teamwork through my house. The first room is neat, orderly, and well-planned. The last room is just left-over shit hung over the breaker box like a hateful mother does to her kid’s shitty drawings.

Then we sit on our couch, holding hands while staring at our art gallery of failure, and drink.


What else have you seen that tests relationships that I haven’t done yet? I’m excited to see how much I really suck at life.
Favorite Comment From The Last Post:
From Heather Rose: “She is the only, only reason I would ever consider having children. Because I could pimp them out as blog fodder. No wait, that wasnt the lesson I was supposed to learn. Because they’re not complete and utter life-wreckers? Eh, that’s probably closer.” 
CoreyFerns April 9, 2012 at 4:57 am

….I whole heartedly agree with Adrian on just shoving shit into places it don’t fit, you make it fit..and if it doesn’t there’s always duct tape..

That..sounded way too much like rape..oh well.
CoreyFerns recently posted..Sunday, 8th November 2009

Noa May 2, 2012 at 4:01 pm

I am on the floor at this comment. Thank you.

Laura April 9, 2012 at 5:25 am

This is such a sweet and heart-warming post. You know how, in The Princess Bride, every time he says “as you wish”, he really means “I love you”? I kind of imagine you guys have something like that, except that instead of saying “as you wish”, you say “fuck you”.
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Noa May 2, 2012 at 4:08 pm

It’s pretty close to that.

Meg April 9, 2012 at 5:45 am

Putting furniture together or building something. My husband always has to make everything 10 times harder than it is and then I’m a bitch if I point out the easiest way to get from A to B. In the end, we’re both yelling swear words at each other like crusty old sailors. Fuck the instructions or common sense. Who needs ‘em?
Meg recently posted..Anger Management

Jen April 9, 2012 at 12:07 pm

I firmly believe that IKEA was a clever plot on the part of the Swedes to destroy American marriages, thus undermining the economic and social infrastructure of the United States. The Swedes are coming, y’all. They’re just biding their time, loading up on herring and lingonberries, waiting for their moment to strike.
Jen recently posted..William Shakespeare: The B(ast)ard of Avon

Meg April 9, 2012 at 5:07 pm

That sounds about right. It’s the cheapest furniture in the world(quality, not price) and all of it comes with a 20 page manuals. Everyone knows Americans don’t have the patience for that shit.
Meg recently posted..Anger Management

Noa May 2, 2012 at 5:20 pm

@Meg: I must leave the room in the event of furniture building. I am a holy terror. I have panic attacks doing that.


Hoody Hoo April 9, 2012 at 7:20 am

FUCK CANOEING, IT IS THE EPITOME OF SUCK! The Evil Troll used to make me go canoeing, and I was always falling in, which resulted in the Time I Had to Pee My Own Pants. He also almost suspiciously turned up dead when we painted a hallway. There’s a reason that relationship is over… mostly it’s me.
Hoody Hoo recently posted..Even a Stopped Clock…

Noa May 2, 2012 at 5:21 pm

When we kayak, we have so much fun. It’s because we’re in separate boats. Separate Boats: Love floats.

I hate myself now.

Corrigan July 24, 2012 at 3:43 pm

Yes! Kayaks. We call the canoe ‘the divorce-boat.’

Mandi E. April 9, 2012 at 7:26 am

I appreciate the break it gives me some nights, but having to watch my husband cook is painful. Smallest example? He’ll ask me every single time what the ratio is of water to rice, but if he tries to make it from memory, he uses twice as much water as he should and we end up with rice soup instead.

Don’t get me started on how he can’t load a god damn dishwasher.
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Jackie G April 9, 2012 at 12:03 pm

See my husband is actually a decent cook (his mom was one of those annoying people that worked full time and then came home and made her own pasta for dinner and shit) but he has to use EVERY SINGLE UTENSIL in the kitchen in order to cook. At least 5 pans and pots and 2 mixing bowls and 4 spatulas. I always ask him what the fuck he needs so many items for, and his reasons are so asinine I won’t even repeat them. It saves me time from cooking, yeah, but then I am doing dishes for the next 7 hours.

Noa May 2, 2012 at 5:23 pm

@Mandi: I wish I could say something about Adrian’s cooking, but I’m just as bad. It’s pretty often that I’ll eat dry pasta for dinner.

@Jackie: I’m that kind of cook when I actually bother to do it. ALL OF THE POTS MUST BE USED.

Ruth April 9, 2012 at 8:48 am

Laundry. We no longer have “communal” laundry since he managed to shrink my $200+ Aran sweater (among other but less important to me items.) I got it when in Ireland on a trip with my BFF and sister who has since passed away from breast cancer. I was not a happy person when I pulled that out of the DRYER! Who the fuck puts a wool sweater in the goddamn dryer?! It’s actually a bit surprising that he’s still allowed in the house now that I think about it. And like Mandi, the cooking thing… If you’re cooking, then cook, but Jesus Christ on a hockey stick, quit coming in and interrupting my book/TV show/game to ask me yet again how to know when chicken, beef, pork, veggies, rice, noodles, instant mashed potatoes are done! I have gazillions of even-the-most-inept-person-on-earth-can-make recipes in the hundreds of cookbooks on the shelf with detailed fucking instructions – this is NOT rocket science!

Bill G. April 9, 2012 at 8:38 pm

I do the laundry because I kept catching my wife doing fucked-up things. I mow the lawn and anything else that involves pushing motors around (like the snowblower and vacuum cleaner) but I’m the only guy I know who primarily does the laundry. Here’s a list of shit that my wife does that makes me crazy when she does it:

1) She’ll complain that the dryer isn’t drying the clothes even though she’s setting the time to max 70 minutes. I ask, “When’s the last time you cleaned the lint filter? You have to do that EVERY cycle.” She says, “I usually do it every other cycle, and I just did it, you don’t need to look at that.” Then I pull out the lint filter and there’s 1/2 inch of lint on it. The conversation generally ends with me saying something like, “Fucking christ, when’s the last time you did it? Who was president then?”

2) Picking a random temperature to wash clothes. I’ve caught her washing whites in cold and dark colors in hot. That’s when I ask her, “Do you consciously pick the wrong water temp or do you just spin the wheel of randomness?”

3) Not sorting the clothes, just throwing them in the washer at random and picking a random temperature. It’s fucking anarchy in the laundry room if I’m not there.

4) Here’s how the mother-in-law pissed me off: she decided to help do some housework when she was visiting. So she loads up the washer full of random clothes, throws in the soap, then decides that the predominantly red rug at the front door should go in, too. When I go downstairs to move laundry, all of the white clothes (mostly MY white T-shirts and socks) that were randomly sprinkled throughout the darks are all fucking pink because the goddamn fucking red floor rug bled out. Who the fuck does that? If I took a greasy garage rag and started drying the clean dishes with it, I’d wind up with a barbeque fork sticking out of my forehead. But apparently it’s OK to do that with the laundry. Her “help” cost me $40 in replacement costs because, if I ever wore pink socks and T-shirts, I’d have to kick my own ass.

I’m not trying to totally ride down my wife, I know there’s bullshit I do in the house that makes her want to rap my head in with a lug wrench. But the laundry is my domain because other people are just bent on fucking it up.

Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:18 pm

I just found out last week that Adrian can’t turn on the dryer.

Can’t do it.

I feel for you.

Johi April 9, 2012 at 9:21 am

Add sleep deprivation to any task and we are bound for WW3 at my house- thank God that Brock knows I’m crazy and he doesn’t utter a peep (in front of me).
I highly recommend remodeling your kitchen while caring for a 6 month old baby. That is a memory for the baby book…..
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:17 pm

Adrian is a passive-aggressor. He just wants to remind me that I’m not doing the things I need to do by laying on the floor and being an ass.

Kenny Boy April 9, 2012 at 9:30 am

When I made some Bear Creek soup Saturday night while my bride was shopping and she came home, she spooned up a big ass bowl of it, sat down on the couch, took a spoonful of it and said, “How can you fuck up soup that comes in a pouch that you just add water to?”
I didn’t say anything and got my own bowl and tried it, and it seemed good to me. I said, “What the hell are you talking about?”
She said, “This soup doesn’t taste like when I make it.”
I said, “I followed the instructions on the pouch.”
She said, “Well I always put 10 cups of water in it, how many did you put?”
I said, “8, like the directions say.”
She gets up and goes to the kitchen, gets the soup pouch out of the garbage, reads the instructions and says, “Well, it says 8 but I always use 10, and if it is too thin I use cornstarch to thicken it up.”
I say, “Why don’t you just use 8 like it says?”
She says, “From now on, before you cook anything, you need to ask me how to do it or wait until I get home to show you how to do it.”
Then our cat who has been laying on my lap looks up at me like he’s thinking, “Dude, I don’t get it either. Is there a new episode of Top Gear on?”

Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:16 pm


Rosie April 9, 2012 at 9:33 am

The next time you move, settle on a place where you have to remove a shit-ton of wallpaper together. If your marriage survives this (and the odds are against you) you may just make it after all.

Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:15 pm

Oh God.

I have to call a realtor.

Ally April 9, 2012 at 9:48 am

Whenever my wife and I go hiking it always turns into a throwdown. By the time we get to the top we have to keep our distance from each other, as we both have the urge to push the other one off the mountain.
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:13 pm

Is the way back down less full of fight-y?

Mayor Gia April 9, 2012 at 9:48 am

Hmm…relationship test? How about one of you go to Utah for ten days while the other one neurotically worries about you collecting wives? Hmmm? Or, just me?
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:13 pm

To be fair, we were in Presidio, TX, where I was afraid we would both be murdered.

Jillian @ Brilliant Title April 9, 2012 at 9:58 am

My former roommate and her fiance never fought. Never. They agreed on everything, giggled together, and then would take a charming walk to take out the garbage because that’s what happy couples do. I wanted to have a systematic nerve shut down and lose all sensation in my eyes and ears. Then I realized they must be robots because real people don’t act like that, so I just started ignoring them and hoping for a programming glitch that would result in my kitchen being completely covered in a thin film of the fiance’s favorite BBQ sauce. It would have made a great story.
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:12 pm

I knew someone whose marriage ended because they never fought. Now he fights with his new wife all the time, and they’re soul mates.

Bobbie April 9, 2012 at 10:13 am

The very best indicator of whether your relationship will end in a bloodbath of cursing, bludgeoning, and an obscene amount alcohol is if one– or both– of you has children from a previous relationship. Redecorating, moving, and canoeing are blissful heaven compared to taking 5 or more people who don’t know or even necessarily like each other and cramming them into a shoebox of a house with one working shower.

Meg April 9, 2012 at 5:01 pm

Are we related? Sounds like my childhood. Combined family; 2 parents-6 kids + 1 bathroom = 7th level of hell.
Meg recently posted..Anger Management

Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:10 pm

You are a badass. I could hardly blend cats.

CrazyTragicAlmostMagic April 9, 2012 at 10:28 am

There is an art to moving that I have mastered. Like you, I have a plan, and a time frame and everything ALWAYS fits. I can’t do a puzzle to save my life but I can pack and make everything fit like a muthafucka!
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:09 pm

I spent entirely too long as a child playing Tetris. It prepared me for every move in my life.

Sarah April 9, 2012 at 10:35 am

Long distance. Absence does not make the heart grow fonder when one travels for work and the other one is left to do everything. By themselves. With two small people. Who will get you sick while the other half of your team is gone.
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Misty April 9, 2012 at 11:13 am

Amen, sistah! I am so right there with you on that. The traveling. Gah! Sometimes I vacillate between wanting to stab him when he walks in the door or throw the kids at him and run upstairs and lock myself in the bathroom.
Misty recently posted..Bowling for Dollars

Jackie G April 9, 2012 at 11:59 am

PREACH. My husband is military and has deployed twice for 6 months. He doesn’t understand why I find it annoying that instead of helping me out when he can, he just plays League of Legends for hours on end. When I point out how I’ve done EVERYTHING EVER FOR A YEAR IN TOTAL TIME WITHOUT HIM he just says “Oh I’m sorry I was busy saving THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.” And then I impale him with the swiffer.

Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:08 pm

@Sarah: You’re tough as balls. I am so lucky to not have that.

Misty April 9, 2012 at 11:09 am

Well, based on my knowledge of you as a person, Noa, I’m going to assume that the canoeing story is actually an metaphor for you and Adrian having sex. There is no way that you are referring to ACTUAL canoeing.

After spending a full week together for Spring Break, with just us and the kids, the hubs gets sick, I get PMS and we leave for soccer practice 4 minutes late. Look out, because all hell will be breaking right damn loose. If there weren’t kids in the backseat, there would have been punching, kicking, biting, hair pulling and groin flagellation. Oh, and lots and lots of creative swearing. Instead we just quietly and hatefully simmered and seethed at each other. Good times.
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:02 pm

Sadly, no, it was totally actual canoeing. Which…makes it worse, I think.

Eleanor April 9, 2012 at 11:12 am

For me it is grocery shopping. I have not yet been grocery shopping with a significant other without nuclear fall out. Most guys seem to not get the basic concept of necessity versus want. My last live-in decided we would solve the problem by just “letting” him do the shopping. After the 3rd time of coming back with nothing but ginormous bags of Cheetos (but they were cheap!) and multiple boxes of q-tips (wtf) I forcefully took over. Looking back, I wonder if it was a ploy to get out of it. Motherfucker.

Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:02 pm

AUGH FUCK GROCERY SHOPPING. I hate it so. I go alone once a month and sprint.

Jaime April 9, 2012 at 12:06 pm

Mike and I went on those paddle boats a while back….. I ended up not paddling and just sitting idly listing to music… because Mike had the whole paddling concept ALL FUCKING WRONG…. and I refuse to move for at least another five years .. simply because I don’t want to deal with him again while moving.
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 11:01 pm

Paddle boats are the worst. At least in a canoe one person can get you back. IN a paddle boat, you’re just going left for hours.

Bill G. May 18, 2012 at 9:04 am

My wife and I had the ultimate test, these 3 things happened within 6 weeks:

1) My father dying suddenly.
2) Moving into a new house.
3) Getting married.

We have our fights, but I figure if we survived the above cluster of shit happening at the same time, we’ll make it. One time, we were so pissy with each other on a two-week vacation that, on the drive home, I pulled up to a winery just outside of Grand Junction, CO. She asked me what the fuck we’re doing here. I said, “We’re staying here, chilling out, and doing very little for the next 3 days. I don’t give a fuck if this place is so expensive it wipes out our savings or maxes the credit card. If we continue home like this, one of us isn’t getting home alive.” (She’s a teacher and it was summer, and in my job, I can call the boss and tell him I’m taking more leave, I had a shitload built up.)

It turns out that the winery cost less than the local Marriott ($90/night due to low season) and I swear it saved our lives. On this vacation, we spent most nights crashing on relatives’ couches and our kid got sick. Our backs were hurting from the sleeping conditions and we weren’t sleeping worth a shit. Staying at that winery for 3 days saved our marriage or one of us from being the subject of a ritual killing.

Noa May 21, 2012 at 10:50 pm

I’m very glad we haven’t had a trip like that yet. But when we do, I’ll be looking for a winery.

Andi Davies April 9, 2012 at 12:08 pm

We fought for years over furniture shopping. Something about furniture shopping just drives home the point that one of you is Scandinavian Minimalism and the other one is Country Clutter, and never the twain shall meet. The Hubs once commented that out of our four near-marriage-ending fights, three had occurred in IKEA.

We finally realized the problem was that I hate decorating and resent time spent on it (especially because I’m a GIRL and we’re all supposed to love that shit. Fuck, no). Now what we do is, Hubs goes household shopping and sends me pictures of things he likes via phone. Then I respond with yes, no, or maybe but more like this. For some reason that works, although to be fair my front room is a Man Cave and Martha Stewart is never going to ask me for decorating tips.
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 9:14 pm

That is the exact way we shop for everything, including homes and cars. It is so much better.

Jen April 9, 2012 at 12:17 pm

The fact that my ex husband is still alive is a testament to my remarkable restraint. When we were married that asshat got more strange tail than a TriMet bus.
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:58 pm

I’m continually surprised at his continual existence.

Monica April 9, 2012 at 12:46 pm

Fuck canoeing up its stupid canoe arse with a canoe paddle. Never again. Row row row your boat into a mess of weeds and never be heard from again. That was MY canoe experience.
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:58 pm

This may be my favorite comment of all time.

Red April 9, 2012 at 1:01 pm

I. LOVE. this. I’m moving in …less than 3 weeks (?!?) and I have people coming to help me load my U-Haul. Fortunately one of those people is related to me and shares my flawless ability to pack everything exactly as it needs to be in order to fit and not crash around into an insane mess before we arrive.
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:57 pm

Adrian has none of those abilities.

Jake April 9, 2012 at 1:06 pm

Jesus fuck, an ex and I had the biggest fight over (not) going to IKEA once. Apparently, it was critical that we go there RIGHT FUCKING NOW to start planning how to decorate a hypothetical future house that we wouldn’t even own for at least five years with a bunch of shit that would all have been discontinued by then because (and I am not even making this up) if you don’t have matching furniture, you can’t be comfortable in your own home, and if you can’t be comfortable in your own home, there’s no way you can make a (hypothetical) fucking marriage work. Turns out, we never made it that far anyway…
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:57 pm

IKEA ruins marriages. Sometimes I go just to watch marriages break down around me.

Heather Rose April 9, 2012 at 2:02 pm

The fiance took me kayaking once in one of those super-sweet kayaks built for two. I immediately discovered that there were jellyfish in the water and spent the entire trip holding my paddle as far away from the water as possible (so the jellyfish couldn’t climb up it and get me, naturally) while fiance did the rowing for both of us. He’s a tolerant soul…
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:56 pm

Adrian and I did something similar once, except the bastard put an octopus on my leg. Son of a bitch.

Bill G. July 24, 2012 at 3:58 pm

In a small boat that tips easily, putting a strange sea creature on my leg is not a good idea. If that happens, it’s a good bet that we’re all going to die.

Dana the Biped April 9, 2012 at 2:12 pm

The Squeeze and I don’t argue, which is pretty unnatural, really. Instead, when I’m angry, I buy enough ice cream to fill the entire freezer and then complain that he doesn’t have any fudge sauce, and also now I want cookies instead. Whereas he just watches ESPN on the TV and about four more games on his computer, all at the same time until I want to bash the TV in with a hockey stick or something.

So I hear you on the soulmate thing.
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Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:51 pm

It’s funny how soul mates actually happen, isn’t it?

Dear Sweet Mama April 9, 2012 at 2:27 pm

Oh dear sweet Goddess – the Concubine and I are getting ready to move AGAIN and I don’t think there is enough xanax or rum to get us through another one. She has had surgery and can’t lift over 10 lobs and my heart stops if I do. This should be interesting. Her packing always sucks, and now consists of her wandering around rooms trying to decide what I should pack. AAACCCCKKKKKK!

Hoody Hoo April 10, 2012 at 6:59 am

Mama. Hire movers. You know what happens when you don’t.
Hoody Hoo recently posted..That Boy Ain’t Right

Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:50 pm

I am interested to hear how your ‘less than 10 pound’ move went.

Dear Sweet Mama April 9, 2012 at 2:33 pm

I just remembered when one of my friends went canoeing with a blind date – he wasn’t blind, but a first date with someone she had not yet seen – and saw something in the water and pulled up a dead woman. For true. She no longer canoes. I always thought it was someone blind date had killed and he was messin with her. She didn’t go out with him anymore either.

Hoody Hoo April 10, 2012 at 6:59 am

Yep, that’s total serial-killer behavior right there!
Hoody Hoo recently posted..That Boy Ain’t Right

Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:17 pm




Bill G. July 24, 2012 at 4:01 pm

Holy shit, everything lined up perfectly to trash that date. It’s a sign, and a damn scary one.

Christine April 9, 2012 at 8:12 pm

Dude, are you serious about the canoeing thing–the front person being the power and the back person doing the steering? You don’t understand, Noa, I never learned this. And I went to a summer camp on a lake for eight years, then was a counselor there for five, TWO OF WHICH I TAUGHT THE FUCKING BOATING CLASS. Why did no one think it was important for me to know this?!

It might explain how we always ended up stranded on the downwind side of the lake, though.

Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:16 pm

I am on the goddamn floor laughing at this right now. My 30 second boat class taught more than your camp did, and I’m so sad for you.

Jaclyn April 9, 2012 at 9:42 pm

Oh god, moving. The last time we moved, I was pregnant, so I basically got a pass to sit around doing nothing and guilt my friends and family into doing all the work. You’d think it went well (for me at least) right?

Not so much. Rodolfo was sick and I was pregnant and couldn’t help much. He was very annoyed about all that and punched a wall. And broke his hand. On moving day. The funniest part is that he bitched about his hand hurting until he was finished but refused to go to the hospital until late that night. And it wasn’t because he had a fucking broken hand. It was because he had a 103 degree fever that wouldn’t break. While we were there, I was like, hey, maybe get an x-ray? Yup, broken fucking hand. Dumbass.
Jaclyn recently posted..I’m Going to Whine About Being Tired. You’re Welcome.

Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:16 pm

We move at least once a year because we get sick of places quickly, but we’ve just now got it down to a science. I pack alone, and he moves it all alone. We stay out of each other’s way and it’s great.

Jaclyn April 9, 2012 at 9:43 pm

Also, you recently transcended your previous level of awesomeness. At least my job seems to think so, because now you are blocked as “porn”. Well done, Noa. Well done.
Jaclyn recently posted..I’m Going to Whine About Being Tired. You’re Welcome.

Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:13 pm

YES. I do a little dance each time someone tells me that.

themandilee April 10, 2012 at 10:00 am

pottery painting. Where I spend an hour and a half creating music notes, guitars and pics on a speckled background of his favorite color and he slaps a butterfly stencil on a cup. Then copies my “I love you” message idea on the inside of the mug. Then, in an attempt to get paint on my nose gets it on my skirt that was purchased 3 hours beforehand. Then I jump up ready to strike like a mongoose on a cobra. Then I get yelled at for being too sensitive. Then I shout that he is a child. Then we sulk to the car.

karaoke. We met singing. We are both good singers. We discuss, regularly, songs we would like to sing together. We even agree to learn a few, so, when the moment comes, we are prepared. We go out, he goes to the Dj and requests a song. I get on stage. It is not a duet I know. Also, I can not sing like Carrie Underwood. I squawk through a song sounding like a cat in heat while he belts out his well prepared Brad Paisley. “Why would you do that?” “we know it.” ” WE do not, YOU do!” He doesn’t take me singing ever again.

honesty. As a woman, I think a full, honest answer is the right one. Ask me who the founding fathers of our nation are and I will read you the wikipedia answer. Ask him, and he will say Patrick Henry. Then, ask who else might be on the list he will say Jefferson. In your frustrated voice say, ok, there are more please tell me who they are. He will say you ask too many questions!! Why are you always in my butt about things? While I protest that if you give me the full answer the first time I won’t have to keep asking and that asking questions is not “interrogation”

We failed moving for almost the same reason, as I had neatly packed 3 times as much into the space provided than he had, he almost slammed my head in the door of MY car because he was mad at a box. Then yelled at me for being in the way… of MY car. That I was driving.

Love is proof that you can want to both holds hands and smother someone with their own stinky socks AT THE SAME TIME. The above is proof that Love is not always enough to make it through… even if every Cosmo, Tiger Beat and Reader’s Digest insist you are a perfect match.
themandilee recently posted..themandilee: A PT cruiser crossed several parking spaces to cut me off and attempted to get t-boned in a parking lot… Seriously?! Why??!!

themandilee April 10, 2012 at 10:00 am
Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:12 pm

I Love miniblogs in comments!

No one tells you you’re going to alternately hate and love your spouse. You love them so hard, but you want to stab them just as hard.

Jen April 10, 2012 at 12:01 pm

Buying groceries. My ex was ‘the chef’ (see above re using every dish and pot and utensil in the kitchen – but he was TRAINED so he cooked better than me) in our relationship so he wanted to grocery shop too. How it is humanly possible for me to have the cart full of my parent’s entire grocery list while he has 3 tomatoes and a package of bagels (this is NOT an exaggeration) in his – and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to get those tomatoes or not!!! – I don’t know. I left, put their groceries away and returned over one hour later and he still didn’t have half of our list done. I banned him after that.

Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:06 pm

AUGH. I HATE grocery shopping more than almost anything else. I go only once a month and just buy all the things I need, and if I forget something, oh well. I am not going back. The few times Adrian has gone, I send him with a list, but he still will text me about 5-6 times per aisle to see if I forgot something.


Remarkable Monkey April 10, 2012 at 12:29 pm

Ever put in a brick paver patio with a loved one? Yeah… we’re lucky one of us didn’t end up buried under it! Totally worth it though… great spot for happy hour after work this time of year.

Noa May 16, 2012 at 8:04 pm

I applaud you for actually helping with that. There’s no way in hell I would have.

Kelly April 10, 2012 at 7:11 pm

Build a house. One of you will cry every day over that fucker.
Kelly recently posted..I is for Interesting

Noa May 16, 2012 at 7:59 pm

We’re planning to sometime in the not-too-distant future. I can’t wait to pretend not to know Adrian during that process.

elizabeth- flourishinprogress April 17, 2012 at 11:39 am

I would totally say A BABY is a relationship test, but since Harv and I only had have the experience of raising a tween together, I’m not really sure I can vouch for the baby thing.

But I hear it’s….a blast.
elizabeth- flourishinprogress recently posted..Monday Dare: Are you a runner? And not the kind on a treadmill.

Noa May 16, 2012 at 7:57 pm

I think that’s a much better plan. Just grab a tween and call it good.

Then again, I am terrible.

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