As I opened up the tab on my browser to write this, I received an Evite for a bachelorette party for one of my oldest friends (no, not an elderly woman, silly!) that I won’t be able to attend. Because, of course, I decided to move across the country just in time for the first wave of commitments / marriages among my friends. How timely, because today I wrote a “letter” (okay, a Facebook Message — this is 2012 and I still don’t know where I packed my stamps) to another old friend.
Confusion has been in the air as the rule had most recently been seen with Hyong Son-Wol, the front lady of the Ponchobo Electric Band and brains behind the hit single “Excellent Horse-Like Lady.” (I’m going to assume whoever translated that so literally lacks a certain grasp of nuance.)
It has been speculated that Ri Sol Ju and Kim Jon Un had been involved in the past but were only able to marry now because Kim Jong Il had disapproved of their relationship.
My old man fancies himself an expert on a number of topics. Just ask him. But relationship advice is a specialty close to his heart.
Apparently, getting engaged after just two dates boosts a fella’s sense of expertise.
I’ve heard the legend of my parents’ whirlwind romance dozens of times. But the tale never grows old.
In March 1968, Richie (as he was then known) Reidy sold computer systems for IBM in New York City. At the IBM Education Center on 40th and Park Avenue, he spied an attractive young programming instructor named Loretta. Besotted, he managed to track down her phone number at work. (#Stalker)
Today is my fifteenth wedding anniversary. I really love Dan, and I am proud of how awesome our marriage is. We certainly haven’t killed each other yet. Hell, we haven’t even maimed each other. We have not always been perfect, but we have made two cool kids, and we have always kept it interesting. For two people as weird and intense as Dan and I are, staying together this long is a big accomplishment. I know some people are surprised.
Here we are going in to our reception. I had a big bow on the back of my dress. This is where we met.
Happy Birthday to ME!
Just in time for my **holysh**t!!** 29th birthday today, McSweeney’s has published “An Open Letter to People Who Judge My Single, Post-College Lifestyle” - thereby validating many of my (and quite possibly your) recent life decisions. Thanks guys! This will help me sleep better during my first night as a 29-year-old.
My mom has been married since she was 21. She and my dad lived in Venezuela at the time and they loved it. However, they were a recent graduate and a college student. Money was not in abundance, so instead of dinning out, my mom would cook meals for him every night when he would come home from work.
25 years later, I decided to start my blog, and my mom’s first comment was, careful of how much you cook for him, you will create a monster.
I’ve lived in Manhattan for 10 years. Happy. Content. Married even. And then one day my husband decided we needed a farm. So now I spend my weeks in the city and my weekends doing manual labor on the world’s biggest renovation project of all time.
Hard labor is seriously ruining my manicure.
These lyrics really hit me where it hurts:
When Becky asked me to guest blog, I was super excited and immediately said yes. But then I was like, wait, I’m married, is that allowed? And she was kind enough to remind me that oh yeah, even when you’re married, your love life can still be F’d.
Before I started writing, I thought it would only be fair to incorporate my husband’s POV on this personal expose, and I must say it opened up some interesting doors. And by “interesting,” I mean nasty. It ended in a fight actually. He said “you should call it The Grass is Always Greener and warn those single chicks not to get married.” Thanks, dude. You always say the sweetest things.
But I’m used to such biting comments after 3 years of wedded bliss and our tiff was soon forgotten. But it made me realize exactly what separates marriage from a regular relationship, and what changed when we both finally took the plunge: no more Mr. and Mrs. Nice Guy. Uh uh. Once the bind is made, you can shit all over the other person as much as your heart desires because you know he or she is still gonna be there the next morning, no matter what
I think that knowledge is part of what fuels my husband’s insane demands of me.
Well, maybe not MY married life quite yet, but…
We tend to focus primarily on (non-)dating and courtship on this site because, let’s face it, neither Becky nor I are making plans to walk down the aisle anytime soon (although Becky’s pretty impulsive, so please don’t put any money on that statement!). But every once in a while, amidst the Group-Non-Dates and bar bumps and lustful Mad Men marathons, we can’t help but wonder where all this build-up will lead us. As I’ve said before, I’m stubbornly hopeful and optimistic that we are an unstoppable generation of women who are wading through all the ambiguity and lawlessness and will emerge at the other end with strong, fulfilling, successful relationships. But what will they look like? And what does that even mean?
My friend Tom Isler is making a documentary about this rather extraordinary couple. Allen and Collette consider 7th Ave in NYC a “long hallway” in their shared life together. Both middle aged, they have lived 20 blocks apart, in separate apartments, for the entirety of their 4.5 year long marriage.
That is, they did live separately, until the economic collapse forced them to re-consider the state of their finances, the state of their real estate, and therefore the state of their wedded bliss… So they are moving in together! We’ll have to wait for the film to be finished in the fall to know exactly how their relationship (and Collette’s West Village, rent stabilized apartment) have fared, but from the trailer it looks like the couple has been dealing with irksome issues large and small.
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