Monthly Archives: September 2011

Garrett has been nagging me lately like an old, crotchety housewife to get a replacement light bulb for my book light. Though I don’t have kids so I can’t say this with any authority, (BUT THIS IS THE INTERNET! WHO NEEDS AUTHORITY TO SAY THINGS?) for me, a book light is akin to one of those fancy white noise machines that seem to lull newborn babies to sleep. I can’t live without it. And since Garrett knows this and is a fan of that “Always Be Prepared” boy scout motto, he has been nervous the past few months because I am out of replacement light bulbs. I, on the other hand, like to live on the edge. Action! Intrigue! No Replacement Book Light Light Bulbs!

It was all fun and games until this morning when it was dark out and I was sleepy-eyed and enjoying slowly waking up with my completely page turning new thriller, and during a particularly juicy passage, it burned out.

As you do, I took to twitter to discuss…

And it made me laugh, because you guys, I PROMISE MY LIFE WAS EXCITING ONCE! But now I am someone who tweets about dying book-lights and sometimes I feel I am one step away from owning an inappropriate amount of cats and spending my evenings knitting them tiny, wooly sweaters using the acrylic yarn for sale I found online. But I am also incredibly happy with this little life, so at least that’s a consolation, right?

Other things you would have seen me do this morning if some hip TV network got its act together and offered me a Reality TV Show because the pace is my life is so lightning quick:

*bought an Americano at Peet’s
*paid my gas bill
*walked into a public bathroom at my place of employment where only ADULTS congregate and found a giant unflushed turd
*shook my head at humanity
*discussed with my friend Shelby how the only Friday night plans Garrett and I have involve a Jersey Shore marathon since we have 3 episodes on the DVR which is causing anxiety

WHERE ARE YOU WITH MY CONTRACT, MTV????

Tangentially related, Garrett and I have been talking a lot about our Kid-Having Plan lately (which will most definitely be preceded by our Wedding-Having Plan, but that one isn’t quite as fun to talk about since party planning stresses me OUT!)  As we were laying on our bed last night rehashing how tired we were after both of our particularly long days Garrett said, “I don’t even know how we will do it once we have kids.  Like, how will we function when we can’t just come home and sit on the couch and drink wine and tell silly stories and have that be All That Is Required?”  And I have to admit, this is the part that makes me nervous. I know that kids bring you joy and all of that, but they also bring a larger Poop to Romantic Evening ratio than I’m used to, and mentally this causes a  bit of trepidation.  I think this only natural.

But then I thought back to just a few years ago and the pace of our life then compared to now, and it is about as different as the party you throw for your 21st birthday vs. the party you throw your parents for their 50th wedding anniversary.  Assuming your parents don’t like Midori Sours as much as my 21 year old self did, of course. (HORK!)  And even though we do SO! MUCH! LESS! swinging from the chandeliers now, the last few years have felt totally natural and not dramatic at all so I tried to comfort Garrett with that fact last night as he was looking for a bag to hyperventilate into.

I know we will grow and change. Our priorities will evolve and it will be a natural process if we stay true to our intentions and do the best we can to focus on what’s important in the moment.  Right now we know how good we have it   but I am looking forward to preparing for the good times ahead.  I woke up this morning with a very strong feeling that the future is going to be bright!  You know, assuming I get some replacement book light bulbs to illuminate the path of course.  I guess I’ll be adding  “Stop By Barnes & Noble” to my Friday Night Agenda.

Reality TV, here I come!

I picked Garrett up from the airport last night after 4 days away and I was so sleep deprived by the time we got home that I practically crawled into bed immediately. You would think he would be the tired one — 3 nights out, bachelor-party-style, with all of his high school buddies — and certainly he was, but it was me that was actually doing the bulk of the lamenting on exhaustion.

The truth is, I sleep terribly when he is gone. And no I’m not going to make you sick with stories of the strength of our love, and how I just don’t feel whole without him there, and all of that sappy bologna. Not for a minute. I had a lovely weekend in my house all alone for 4 days — of course, until it was time to go to sleep at night.

After three years of living with Garrett, now when I sleep alone I hear EVERY. SINGLE. CREAK that my house makes (and built in 1952, my house creaks A LOT.) Each time, whether I was just falling into a light slumber or dead asleep, I’m absolutely certain that the source of this creak is some knock-off Criminal Minds Serial Killer crawling down from my attic. And there is no rational reason for this.

It’s not like I’ve never slept alone before. In my pre-Garrett life, long ago as it seems, I was a swinging 20-something with roommates, and you know, as swinging 20-somethings do *ahem* everyone doesn’t always come home every night, right? I understand sleeping alone! I used to enjoy it. Hell, I even lived alone for a period of time and totally survived fearlessly. But now, not so much. Thursday and Friday night I was up multiple times wishing for a bedazzled pair of night vision goggles. And by Saturday night I had had enough of this sleep deprivation to take matters into my own hands. The plan was to have a few glasses of red wine as the evening wound down thus ensuring I would have no problem falling and staying asleep. And this plan’s brilliance was FLAWLESS (even if I did end up using “a few” loosely) until at 4:30 am when my cell phone rang. LOUDLY. Obviously startling me from my boozy slumber.

My first thoughts were totally disorienting. Then I thought Garrett was drunk dialing me, so I looked at the number. It didn’t end up being Garrett but it was a local number. I’m having all of these thoughts, of course, while the phone is still ringing because being startled out of boozy slumber doesn’t allow you EVER to hit the silence button on your cell or send the call to voicemail in a timely manner. So now I’m awake. And pissed. And waiting to see if this asshat leaves a voicemail, and of course he doesn’t. Apparently he was just calling to check in, nothing important here! Then he has the audacity to call back again. 2 Calls! In 2 Minutes! At 4am! A determined personality for sure.

Now the question, in my opinion, that separates the men from the women is this: WHAT WOULD YOU DO NEXT?

I relayed this story to Garrett after picking him up at the airport and he looks at me and says, “Well did you call it back? Weren’t you worried it was one of my friends not in your phonebook calling to say something happened to me?” And then I died laughing.

After 2 mornings of waking up to 4am Four Square check-ins at White Castle and the like, I was not worried it was a friend of Garrett’s calling to tell me something had happened. I was pretty sure they were probably still out and about at the point, what with the pace they had been keeping that weekend, so HELL NO I did not call that number back! And if you are also a Criminal Minds Serial Killer fearing woman I think you know why.

Had I picked up my cell and redialed that missed call, I most certainly would have then immediately heard the sound of a cell phone ringing from up inside my closet or up in my attic. And at this point it was still before 5am and I was NOT ready to go ninja on some attic lurking serial killer’s ass just yet.

The only option was to get up. And after turning on all the lights in every room of the house, I made a pot of coffee and then took to twitter to bitch about it.

OBVIOUSLY.