Tag Archives: relationships
What is Love?
Love is screaming “I WATCH FOOTBALL WITH YOU ALL SEASON!!!!!” while you crank the volume on The Bachelorette 3-hour season finale as he wildly protests.
Eric: “I bought a ring mold.”
Me: “Oooooh! Say more!”
Eric: “Not, not that kind of ring. A ring mold. It’s for food. You use it to–”
Me: “I lost interest.”
Things That Happen When Eric’s Out of Town
The TV has been on Spanish mode for the past 4 hours and I just noticed.
Usually it’s Eric’s job to tell me “Hey, do you realize you’re watching the TV on mute?” or “Hey, do you realize you didn’t turn on the AC, and that’s why it’s 105 degrees in here?” or “Hey, I see you’re about to throw out the trash, but do you realize you’re not wearing pants?”
I don’t know how I ever lived alone.
Me: “I’ll go get the laundry. Which dryer did you put it in?”
Eric: “The one with our clothes in it.”
Stay in the meeting, where it’s safe
Set my alarm for 7:30am this morning so I’d be up and awake for a bed delivery that Eric scheduled between 8am-12pm.
Let me put this in terms you can understand
Watching “The Bachelorette”…
Eric: “Wait, so…at the end of this, the bachelorette proposes to the guy?”
Me: “No. The guy proposes.”
Eric: “So she chooses the guy who then has to propose to her?”
Me: “Yeah.”
Eric: <confused>
Me: “Like what I’m doing.”
(pause)
Eric: “Ok yeah I get it now.”
To be fair, who DOESN’T need this?
Eric must now adhere to a strict “No buying things for our new apartment without consulting me first” policy. Here’s why:
This is Why it Works
I’m going out tonight with some girlfriends who are way cooler and more fun than I am.
Isn’t it Ironic (the lost verse)
This weekend Eric and I went to a beautiful wedding at the American Museum of Visionary Arts in Baltimore, as one of my oldest and dearest friends was getting married there. We had just been to Baltimore the weekend before for Eric’s friend’s wedding, so I felt pretty confident in my packing-for-a-Baltimore-wedding skills and didn’t go through my usual anal-retentive, checklist-obsessive packing routine.
Big mistake.
An hour before the wedding, I realized that I did not pack a bra.
Not a huge problem, as my dress (and my boob size) didn’t necessarily require one, but I had never worn the dress without one. So needless to say, I was a little panicked and self-conscious, and I made Eric swear 50 times up and down that you couldn’t tell my boobs had no support. I also turned down his gracious offer to cup them in his hands the entire night. I don’t know, I just felt like that might draw even more attention.
Then we arrive at the wedding, my boob anxiety rising, and what is the FIRST thing we encounter? This.
A HUGE. FUCKING. BALL OF BRAS. 18,000 bras to be exact.
“Look, it’s 18,000 more bras than you’re wearing!” Eric yelled. Loudly.
And in that moment I couldn’t help but feel I was living out that Alanis Morissette song. You know, the one that goes “It’s like 18,000 bras in a ball, when all you need is one to wear…”
Or something.
But come on. That is ironic. Don’t you think?
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