On Items That Save Your Marriage

The first time my husband and I went to Hawaii together, I was there for a conference. He joined me before the coneference was over, so while I spent the whole day indoor waiting for the dreadful sessions to finish, he was out happily snorkeling in Oahu’s Hanamua Bay, one of the few snorkeling spots on the island. Maybe you don’t know this, but my husband’s complexion is as fair as it gets, and it takes nothing for him to get sunburnt. He usually “dips” himself into 45 spf sunscreen, and off he goes. That day, he was so eager to get in the water and “follow the fishies” (his words), that he might have missed a few spots. That, and the fact that he spent a full 4 hours without getting out of the water made him a walking blister. His skin was, literally, seared. He was so burnt he was in extreme physical pain, preventing us from going out to dinner, or even getting out of the hotel room. As a good perspective wife I headed out to the pharmacy to get every possible ointment in commerce to sooth his burning skin, but I could not really hide the fact I was furious. I got even more pissed off when the following day we could not go to the beach, or be in direct sunlight, because he was just too burnt. We toured the island with him driving with the seat back completely down (you know, like when you try to have sex in the car?), so he could drive without having to lean on anything. I was steaming- so before heading back we stopped at a surfing store and bought a spf t-shirt- you know, those rash-guard things you wear while surfing (or snorkeling, you see!) to prevent spoiling every vacation for your wife…

We refer to that t-shirt as a “Marriage-Savior” item. He knows very well that the next time he ventures snorkeling without that one on, I am going to ask for a divorce…

On Being Gone

I have disappeared for a few days (remember??), but do not fear- there are more (many, many more!) matrimonial mishap waiting to be recounted...
Stay tuned...

On Zits, Black-Heads, and Intimacy

I can hear complaints already- OH MY GOD THAT’S DISGUSTING! Are you kidding?? We're talking about LOVE and MARRIAGE DURABILITY here!!

First things first, let’s clear it out of the way: the moment you males get married, you give up the rights to your skin blemishes. It’s embedded in the wedding vows, whether you like it or not, and you’ll have to patiently go through hours of “skin cleaning” from your wives. That’s it. It doesn’t work that you complain, whine, or even get mad: it’ useless. You officially hand over the rights the moment you get married, and in fact, I will say that the moment your wife stop pressing your zits, you should start doubting the solidity of your marriage.

I AM NOT KIDDING!!! My husband usually rolls his eyes at this point and tries to get away from me, but he also realizes that he needs to let me groom him, or I will get quite cranky.

There are three levels of intimacy with someone: the first one is when you kiss, and you experience the first exchange of body fluids in the form of saliva. Then there is- NOT oral sex and NOT petting (do teenagers these days still talk about petting?? Because, I swear, it wasn’t till I was past 18 that I finally figured out what it was!)- those come WAY after! The second level of intimacy is sex, penetration, “regular sex”, if you want. Then, the deepest level of intimacy known to mankind, the one that opens up everything else: Zit Pressing. When you get to groom your partner, there are no more known barriers- oral sex becomes natural, going number two in each other’s bathroom, burping- you name it, after zit pressing everything else is on the table. It’s pretty logical if you think about it: if something as disgusting as someone else’s skin infection or excess fat does not gross you out, nothing ever will. That’s when you know it’s true love!! I love my friends to death, and I have to say zit pressing is, if not impossible, almost completely inexistent. But my husband- oh, I would spend hours grooming him!

When we see a guy with, like, a very evident zit on his face, I would point at him and whisper in my husband’s ear: “The poor thing- you can tell nobody loves him!!” And when it is my husband himself coming home with a zit/ black head on his face, I always yell at him: “Look, your coworkers probably think I don’t love you!!”

It’s a clearly remarkable sign of love that someone would groom you. Actually, I understand this is not common topic of conversation, but if you talk to all your other married male friends, they will tell you exactly the same thing. So, stop being prissy and just give up: we’re going to groom you no matter what, and the sooner you start taking it the right way, the better for your marriage!

On The Two-Year Rule

I hate clutter. Truly, truly hate it- and I am sure it’s because I have been a pack-rat in one of my previous lives (extending well into this one!). My latest incarnation has a total hate for packed closets, old clothing, useless paper. I am the Trash-Bin Queen, the Closet Warrior, the Goodwill Fairy. And I enjoy it.

What can possibly give you more pleasure than filling up a bag of junk, and donating it all to Goodwill? What is more pleasant than looking at an orderly closet, and realize it’s like that BECAUSE OF YOU! What can be as incredibly rewarding as throwing out old clothes to make room for brand new ones?? (Okay, I will admit that the most I have spent in clothing items in the past year has been $6.99 in a pair of slacks- I also happen to be a TJMaxx Digger, a Ross Raider, and a Lohemann’s Aficionados, but I think this is the topic of another post!) In any case, my husband is WAY clingier to “stuff” than I am.

When I first met him, we decided to live in the same room he had for the previous few years, in a large house with his (fantastic) roommates. This made for a very, very small closet for both of us. This is where I started my shedding of clothes, which applied to both mine and his. He did not particularly like this. His closet was packed-full of t-shirts and really, really bad short-sleeved shirts. These weren’t that hard to get rid of, as the clear understanding was that if I ever caught him with a short-sleeved shirt on, I would break up with him. However, the t-shirts proved to be a true challenge. I could not get rid of most of those, and one in particular- the infamous Einstein t-shirt. You know which one it is- it has a Einstein cartoon on it, and I believe it is smoking pot. The best I can describe it as is “juvenile”, but I would still frown upon a fourteen-year old boy wearing it. Do you have the picture?

I truly struggled with it, and it took me about two years to realize there was hope, and it resided in the Charity Note. Charity is one of the things that truly resonate with my husband, so I came up with the “Two-Year Rule”: anything that has not been worn in the past two years can find itself more useful in someone else’s closet, someone with less means, someone who can give justice to the cotton growers who harvested the balls, the children who transformed it into clothing, and retailers who sold it to us… I was SO proud of myself!! Right after stating the rule, I approached the closet, all happy to be able to fill a bag of Goodwill-bound material… and he materialized next to me wearing the Einstein t-shirt- on top of about three others who were on my shit-list. Those damn t-shirts are still in residence in our closet.

Although in principle my idea had mileage, and it DID provide some good old-fashioned closet-cleaning, I know how to take defeat. It is a counter effect of marrying a smart husband, you know?? He CAN and WILL outsmart you when he really cares about his t-shirts.

Now, once every year or so, I will catch a glimpse of him wearing that t-shirt under his shirt, or in bed, or packed for a vacation… and although I win many of my household battles, I totally realize when I need to surrender.

On Being Arrogant

Game Theory class, 8 am, Tuesday morning. My team and I have built a pretty tough reputation- for which we got called arrogant, stand-offish, impossible. But we're making a lot more money than anyone else. we got grilled last week on our attitude, but this week we're getting some pretty good rewards.
"Being arrogant pays off", I say to our professor.
"Apparently," he replies, "however my wife doesn't seem to think so".

Good to know other people's marriages work exactly like mine!

On Right Answers

It seems to me pretty much a given that every marriage is based on the fundamental principle of Right Answers- with capitol letters! This might seem trivial, but it’s truly a cornerstone of every relationship I know of- and I don’t mean just answer to the infamous questions like: “Does this make me look fat?”, or “Do you think I have gained weight?”. This goes above and beyond triviality to get to the real core of everything you do and think, and the entire way you deal with each other.

For example, take flying together. My husband will always, ALWAYS ask me whether I prefer to sit on the aisle, and I know the answer is no. The fact that he asks is a nice sign of chivalry, and it is sweet, but we have a clear understanding that if we travel together, I take the middle seat. Do you really think I like the middle seat??? When I travel alone, do I take the middle seat??? Who likes the crappy middle seat anyway??? If airlines EVER had a true innovation on their concept, they should eliminate middles seats all together. What’s worse is that they KNOW: when you register for an airline’s miles program, you have to state a seat preference, and it’s always between aisle and window. Nobody ever asks you whether you prefer the middle seat- that alone should tell you something, don’t you think?? Enough digression- nobody likes the middle seat, so why should my husband ask me? Well, either he or I will have to seat there, and there’s always a choice. And seriously, I DO PREFER the middle. Why? Well, aside from being the right answer, if I ever choose to take the aisle and stuck him in the middle I know it will make for a very cranky flying husband, who for about 4 or 5 hours will be really brewing storm, and he’ll be even worse when we get off, and I get a cranky husband for at least a ten hours span. Now, I am not dumb, and I can take the middle seat without being cranky for 10 hours. I know the right answer, and it’s more- it’s the truth, it’s not just to please him. I don’t prefer the aisle. It’s an answer that has the nice side effect of sparing us a feud and a stupid bickering- and the answer is no, plain and simple.

I can take the aisle, but I cannot take criticism of my cooking, my planning (especially if I took the burden to plan when no one else did!), my sense of directions, and my general wifely skills. Questions that relate to any of the above, even in passing, have a right answer that my husband ALWAYS knows- not just to humor me, it’s a true and honest answer. If it wasn’t sincere, every marriage would be just a comedy, a race to find the right lies to please our partners… Our marriage is not a comedy, and I never even for a second doubt his honesty when he answers, and neither does he. He knows very well which ones are the right answers, and in exchange he takes the aisle seat, the best cut of meat, the largest portion of food, the laundry done (and folded, but not put away nor ironed!), and the last bite of the most delicious dessert which I ended up ordering.

Right answers are not about just saying them, it's about believing them. They become natural, second nature, all you need to do is just tell the truth. They are for sure the foundation of every solid marriage- or at least, they play a HUGE role in mine!!

On Husband Sickness

I know a lot of women- among whom my mother- for which there is no worse thing than a sick husband. Mine is actually fine- he doesn't complain too much, he is just truly miserable- I feel like squeezing him all the time, for he's ridiculously cute when he's sick: he's got these big watery eyes that make him look like a helpless puppy...

So, I have nothing against my husband when he’s sick- except when the time comes to do something AGAINST being sick. He will not medicate himself, he will not soak in a tub of warm water with eucalyptus essence in it, and in general he will fight any and all of my suggestions. Sometimes I feel he thinks I would not want his best interest, and prefers to keep on being miserable and sick rather than taking an aspirin. Am I such an evil wife???

On Wall Coloring

I was visiting with my friend today, and I just LOVE her apartment. She lives in a wonderful condo on the Oakland hills, with a magnificent view of the whole Bay, Bridge to Bridge. However, the thing I absolutely ADORE among all others is the fact she painted her living room walls RED. They are fantastic, rich, I always feel like I can try and lick them, and they'll taste like cherries and wine... not like I would actually lick my friend's walls, but you get the idea. In any case, I was complimenting her color choice and complaining because my husband has vetoed my wall color palette, which included a “brothel red” wall in the bedroom, at least a red wall in the living room, and an entirely blood-red dining room. I DO think I used adjectives like "stubborn", "boring" and “unimaginative”.

What I am actually blogging on today is what she said to me afterwards: "My husband knows better than to put up a fight with me over house décor- he knows he needs to pick his battles". Simple, lapidary, effective- this is the reason she's one of my best friends!

Not all husbands necessarily know how to do that, and although I think mine is quite skilled, he is still learning certain things. For example he knows how to tolerate my back-seat driving without yelling at me (like I would), and he knows better than to move things around the kitchens in spaces that have not been pre-approved by Her Majesty Royal Pain In the Butt (yes, that’s me). But house décor is still something he cannot let go. He is not persuaded that watching “Trading Spaces” and “Flip That House” is entitling me to be Chief Decoration Officer at home. He is not even persuaded that I DO hold the position of Chief Styling Officer, too, after watching way too many episodes of “What Not To Wear”- although he does wear the things I buy him, and doesn’t complain too much about the things I will not allow him to wear. (Yes, TLC is my favorite channel). So, he is still trying to battle me on the grounds of home furnishing. As my friend has wisely stated, he has not mastered the technique of choosing his battles. Yet.

On Trip Packing

Our very first trip as a married couple was a true dream- two weeks in French Polynesia, dreaming among turquoise waters and dolphins and turtles… a fantastic, fabulous trip that we had both long dreamed of before even meeting each other! A picture-perfect honeymoon! What was interesting in that trip was the apparent reversal of roles between the stereotypical all-packing bride and the frugally-packed groom.

We traveled with 3 checked-in pieces, two carry-ons and a purse. The suitcases we checked in were the largest pieces of luggage we could find in the house: His, Hers, and the communal snorkeling gear. Upon our landing in Tahiti we learned that Air Tahiti has a truly, truly low luggage allowance, in the realm of 25 kg per person. Each of our suitcases was easily exceeding 35 kg. Needless to say, we had to pay a penalty for excess luggage (and after we saw the airplanes that were actually taking us around, we really figured out why!), with my husband fuming, AT ME, for packing the impossible- and "I can’t believe YOU made us go above the limit". A mortified newly wed, I did not retaliate- better yet, I did not even think of questioning the statement!

So, we get to Rangiroa and our first Hotel, the weather is great, the average temperature exceeds 85 degrees Fahrenheit, and we start unpacking. This is where I discover the following items in my husband’s suitcase:

- FIVE pairs of jeans;

- TWO WOOL sweaters;

- FIVE pair of shoes, among which a pair of winter shoes;

- Socks in adequate quantities should the ice age surpise us on our honeymoon.

I want this to go on the records, he packed more shoes than ME!! This stopped his complaints about paying extra fees on air travel, and his decision to make me the “Supreme Authority on Packing” of the house. Ever since our honeymoon, my husband checks with me whether his packing “idea” is appropriate for the season and the occasions we’re likely to encounter upon travel. He puts together a pile that I examine and make suggestions upon, and we have substantially reduced our traveling volume since. He is entitled to carry one LESS pair of shoes than me (independently of how many I pack, his quota is capped at (1-x)- I still find it embarrassing FOR ME that he brought more shoes than me on our honeymoon!) He is also entitled to a little less than half the packing space we allocate for the trip. And MY beauty case needs to fit in HIS half.

Household policies are good. The sooner you lay them out, the better for the future of your marriage!

On Marrying a Smart Husband

I think a lot of people overlook the importance of the qualities of the man you actually marry. In the end, there would not be that many divorces if everyone was REALLY careful in the choice process, right? You think that looks are important, money maybe, sex drive, affinity, compatibility, maybe the fact you got pregnant before assessing any of the above… I don't necessarily disagree, but the one quality that surpasses all others and you really want to make sure your husband complies with is INTELLIGENCE. Marrying a smart man is one of the most intelligent things I have done myself.

Let me give you an example…

Say that you might be stranded in a country that is not your own, for over 9 months (and counting), and your favorite thing in the world EVER is to travel. Let’s also assume that the reason why you are stranded in said country is your marital status, and the fact you decided to get married no matter whether the visa issue would have gotten completely unbearable. Let’s also say that you can solely blame your husband for your miserable status of stranded non-immigrant resident. Now, imagine said husband decides to spend what coincides with your school Spring break in Italy, with his family. And as a consequence, since you cannot leave the country, you would end up being home, alone, stranded, not in school, and pretty much fuming.

This is where the smart husband really shines in all his intelligence. He did the math before I even got to the point that he was going to be gone while I was on a break, and started saying “Isn’t any of your friends going on a trip? Why don’t you look for someone to take a trip with?” I wasn’t too convinced, but he was insisting “Really, if she cannot afford it I will buy the ticket for one of your friends to go with you on a Spring break vacation!” This is when I started being suspicious- what was this Spring break thing all about? And then I (finally!) looked at the calendar, and realized I had married the smartest man in the world. And a lucky one, too, because in fact I DID find a friend to travel with! My classmate is also married and her husband was going to work throughout our break- perfect conditions! So, we are heading out on March 22^nd for Big Island in Hawaii, and spending a week of sun, beach, and general married-without-husbands debauchery!

He is the best husband in the world. Being smart is serving him well in the matrimonial set!

On The Correct Use of Adpositions

Adpositions (aka prepositions) are very important. Very, VERY important. For example, it might happen that, as you walk out of a restaurant and your husband says something really, really silly, you might burst into laughter, and at his question "What are you laughing about?", you might answer: "I'm laughing AT you."

No. No no no no no!!
"I'm laughing WITH you" is the correct phrase for those who want to stay married.

Mentally noted.

On Household Technology

So, my husband is a software engineer working for a large company in Silicon Valley. This means that anything that even remotely might contain a chip is his domain. He admits to me being the real geek in the family, nevertheless he is in charge of fixing bugs and troubles as they arise in our household. I can already hear his complaints to this statement: I do not want to be that person, if you know how to fix it why don’t you do it yourself, I have my ways of doing things… etcetera. In any case, let me just say that we have this “spare laptop” at home, which was my previous one, and we only use for guests when they need to use email or in emergency situations. Said computer was quite slow (being old), and my husband’s solution to the slowness problem was “format C”. Now, I am a structural engineer, not a computer one, and although I might lack the subtleties of the information age, I can get as far as “format C”, and I opposed the solution- it sounded quite drastic to me, especially since the old laptop contained my entire iTunes collection! So, in brief, while I was gone for a consulting assignment abroad he decided that the time had come to re-format my hard drive without me protesting through it. Fine. Now, just about at the same time we could not figure out what happened, but he got himself cut out of the entire world outside of our house, without internet connection and impossible access to Skype or email to talk to me. 9 months later, my iTunes collection has still failed to materialize, leaving me with all the same songs and playlists as there were before I left the country.

So, since he's a "Format C" kind of guy, I have since given up asking him for advice on computer troubles, and either ask Google or Gug how to troubleshoot my issue- obviously without letting him know, or I could get into serious trouble!

Well, yesterday I had to give up my laptop for him to do some work, since his had a complete melt-down of sort. Today, as I went back, my computer was not happy- moaning and making noises and flashing me messages that said:

I don’t think my laptop likes him as much as I do. In any case, I had to reboot the computer, uninstall everything he had installed (for some reason, this happens EVERY TIME!), and click on the “yes” box, with the hanging effect that if I break my promise my computer will go into self-combustion….

Update: Complaints on the post, the statements here contained and the future of my technological home support have already materialized...

On Being Married

I don’t even know where to start with this, because although I know this is going to be a fun ride, I also suspect that I could end up being the Heather of matrimony: Blogging cost Heather her job, this might cost me my marriage. However, I truly, truly, enjoy being married, and not just being married in general but being married to my specific fantastic husband. Hence, a good place where to start is with a disclaimer which contains the top ten reasons (there are many, many more!) why I really want to stay married, and in particular, stay married to you:

1. You are wonderful, smart, funny, talented, serious, dedicated, good looking and incredibly, fantastically, hyperbolically in love with me- and me with you. That helps.
2. You listen to me. Even when I don’t make much sense, you actually listen to what I have to say, and in addition, you actually take my advice. I find it all incredible and I love you more for that.
3. You are patient. Patience with me is of capital importance, since I do know I can drive you insane from time to time…
4. You are just as silly as me, which makes for wonderful endless silly conversations that usually leave me giggling like a two-year old.
5. You complement me. In many, many ways you complement me and balance me every day.
6. You get my sense of humor. I seriously was starting to believe I didn’t have one anymore.
7. You are serious, and that is wonderful since I need to counterbalance my craziness here and there.
8. You believe in me, every day, throughout the process, you always, continuously believe in what I have to offer, in my talent, and in my potential.
9. You are intense in the things you do, you don’t come to compromises, you are determined and focused and nothing can get you off track.
10. I know that if I stick around long enough I will be married to a CEO, which is kinda cool.

Other various reasons why I like to be married to you:

• You do the dishes and take out the garbage and help with the house day-to-day maintenance (even if we’d like to take this one for granted, ladies, we better never do so- our fathers are still looming over our domestic happiness!).
• I really, really, really like to mess up with your self-created conception of the World At Large.
• You pay the bills on time and I don’t have to worry or remind you a thousand times.
• You are taking me places (both physical and non).
• You make really funny Kermit the Frog faces when I say things that really take you by surprise.
• You fix things when you don’t have any other choice.
• You let me be myself, and you don’t try to constrain me to who you think I should be.
• I am always in love with you.

I already know our first argument will come shortly after posting this, but meanwhile I would like to think I can enjoy talking about being 30 something and married, and all the things that go with it…