On "The" Suitcase

Last week we were at dinner at some good friends' place. They live in an area where we've been looking for a new house to rent, so we stopped by and ended up staying for dinner. We had a great time, especially because we learned about The Suitcase.

Our friends have been married about 20 years, so they have A LOT of experience on being married! They keep all their luggage in their garage for when they travel, except for a single suitcase that resides in the master bedroom's closet. Apparently, every now and then- and always in turn!- one of the two gets so fed up with the other that starts packing to leave. We were incredulous!!

"What do you mean you pack to leave??"
"Well, either me or her get so pissed off with the other we decide we're going to leave. So while one packs, the other goes and bothers: "Did you remember the underwear?", "Have you packed enough socks?", and so on. We usually make up before the suitcase is closed!"
"Wait- don't you feel a bit silly every time you pull out the suitcase screaming "I'm leaving!", knowing you won't really?"
"Well, every time we really think it's going to be the last time we do it!"

And I thought we were weird because we always speak Italian, but we argue in English!

On Not Quite Understanding the Strategy...

So, you are a husband, right? And you know your wife keeps a blog, right? Let's ASSUME for a second that this blog is about marital life. Can you please tell me what would make you not check- let alone BOOKMARK!- your wife's blog?? Because, really, I don't get it.

I've even thought of opening it up to him for counterpointing, because I was feeling guilty about blogging about him! I guess the offer is gone, and since "What he doesn't know can't hurt him"...

I think I'm back to blogging... :)

On Knowing Where It Hurts

My husband yesterday was complaining about a paper he has to write. It's a final for a negotiation class where he has to lay out the plan for his life. I know, I didn't ask either.

"I can write it for you: "My plan is to go back to being a husband!""
"No, it needs to have something to do with negotiations!!"
"Okay, so, "I negotiated with my wife that at the end of this block I am going to go back to being a husband and not a roommate.""
"Am I being a roommate?"
"Yes, but not a Gug-like roommate. A Christophe-like roommate."

I know that without knowing the details of our previous living situation this is going to be a hard reference to catch. Nevertheless, I got back today to a clean kitchen and to trash taken out. Knowing where it hurts really does miracles.

On Training and Other Marriage Truths

I have not been able to stop thinking about this article all day. (The link is not optional. Anyone who's married should thoroughly read it!!) My boss forwarded it to me, as a result of me sending him this other article, which is a geeky look into toilet seats. As genial as it is, it seems to be true, too. I have been trying to apply these training techniques for a while now, but only as an amateur, and today, after reading the brilliantness of Amy Sutherland, I saw the light.

I was all wrong. I was trying to ignore a negative behavior, true, but I was not rewarding the positive one! The freacking laundry basket that had been sitting in our bedroom for over two weeks, and I was determined not to mention it. Even though I was running out of underwear. Even if there were clothes there I had almost forgot I could wear. To be true, I have to say it didn't work. I had to burst out when a suitcase joined the basket (for two days!), and nag in the worse possible way! But maybe if I had started kissing when the basket disappeared, I would have gotten better results? I am setting out to training camp. Let's see if Amy is right!

On Being Suspicious

Last week my friend was here, and life is not smiling on her. So, my husband was asking me how she was.
"Not too good," I replied, "I think I should really try hard to spend more time with her this summer."
"Sure. You can go there any time you want. Actually, maybe you can meet somewhere else, once in Seattle, once in LA, once in Vegas... During the summer you should make time and spend your weekends with her."

How nice. How incredibly great. "You really have a great one," said my friend, "It's almost too good to be true!"

Uhm. Too great??? Does he have an affair and he's just trying to get rid of me???

On Knowing Each Other

Overheard at dinner last night:
"So what is your wife's degree on?"
"I don't know about her undergrad, but she has a master in linguistic."

The wife in question was not obviously there. I advised my friend that he was threading dangerous waters. Not knowing what her undergrad is is pretty dangerous. That is the kind of thing that, at the beginning of dating, you're supposed to pay attention to. Because it's not okay, two or three years after you have met each other, asking "so, what did you graduate in?" It doesn't fly!! We told him we were going to make sure someone else asks her when he's not around, or he should go back to his in-laws and figure it out.

Now I have to wonder whether my husband knows what my undergrad is in. And then again, I'm an engineer- if you have been around me, you know it's pretty hard to forget that!! :D

On Being an Awful Seventy Year Old

I have manias, like everyone. I consider myself pretty easy going , but in the end I see myself becoming more and more engrained into my own habits, my own ideas, my own perspectives. So, one of the worse (for my husband) has to be the location of objects around the house. I had never thought about it, but I realized my husband tiptoes around me when he asks me where to out certain things- like laundry, pots, and groceries. Initially, I was irritated- c'mon, you don't know where we keep this and that in the house?? Then I realized that I am a panther (in Italian, it means I am quite aggressive) when things are displaced. I get truly pissed off when I cannot find my favorite pan in the right cabinet, the pasta on the right shelf, and the socks in the right drawer. So, it's yet again about me: getting me annoyed and ask me where to put stuff is actually better than getting me pissed off because I can't find something. He picks his battle right! Since I took notice I have been trying to keep myself at bay, and not yell at him, but in general I realize I have the path set to be a 70-year-old lady set in her ways, who has dinner at a set time and eats always the same three things, and grandchildren cannot move any items else they could be verbally executed by grandma.

*sigh*