Why We Work

For Valentine’s Day, Bonnie wrote a post  about why she and her husband work (for a link-up I missed. sad face.). I’ve been thinking about it since I read her post, and the idea of writing the same regarding my relationship has been brewing in my mind.

Last night I had a wonderful evening with my fiancee full of a great dinner, pre-marital counseling, and ugly-laughing at hilarious Youtube videos. Driving home, I felt especially grateful for my relationship and decided to finally write this post when I got home.

Why we work
We work because we’re individuals. We have out own friends, jobs, schedules, and tastes. We each have our own worlds, and we like it that way.
We work because our relationship is “should-free.” We know each other’s insecurities, strengths, weaknesses, an bad habits – and we love each other all the more for them. I don’t have to make dinner every single night, and he doesn’t mind getting Chinese takeout.
We work because we know it’s not always fun to be in a relationship, and we don’t take that personally. Sometimes one of us is having a really crummy day and in a funk and there’s just nothing the other can do to make it immediately better. And that’s okay.
We work because we don’t take other things personally. We don’t text each other compulsively all day everyday – and we know that’s not reflective of the quality of our relationship. I don’t think I’ve ever been in his Facebook profile picture (or that he’s ever had his relationship status on his profile) and that doesn’t mean anything’s wrong. Sometimes one of us just doesn’t feel like cuddling. And we know that’s not the end of our relationship.
We work because we ugly laugh. The kind of laughing where your mouth is just totally, unflatteringly wide open, your head is thrown back, you’re kinda crying, and you can’t even speak. This happens at least once on the daily. We thrive off of being goofy together, and that does miracles for our relationship.
We work because he’s bad at reading minds, and I’m bad at being subtle. Seriously, I just say whatever I need, want, or think. Which many people think is a fault (and it can be), but it’s a godsend for our relationship because what Luke really needs is for me to be upfront and never try that “hint-dropping” thing and hope he reads my mind. That system doesn’t work for either of us. He doesn’t end up getting it, and I’m too impatient to try and wait for him to.
We work because we’re not trying to impress each other.  It can be one of those days where I haven’t showered, am not wearing makeup, and am wearing sweats and he adores me and makes me feel just as special as any other day. I can make an accidentally crappy dinner and it’s no big deal.
We work because we both know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we’re on each other’s team, unconditionally. “You and me against the world.”
And, most importantly, we work because we both agree that if one of our children ever weirdly ends up with some kind of super power we would come alongside them and help them learn about and control it instead of hiding them away (see: obligatory pop culture reference to Frozen).

Second-Hand Fail.

 

I have a picture of one of my friends “smoking” a candle up on my Facebook. The caption reads: “Smoking fail.”

His response?:  “Which means Haley has been poisoned with second-hand fail.”

 

 

 

Thing to smile about #12:  Laughing so hard your sides hurt. You’ve all had those times. You know it. 

 

=D

9-15-08

 

       All things considered, today has turned out to be really great! Well, kind of.  I feel really good today.  I got a lot of reading done in choir (shh!).  Right now I’m reading The Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut. I’ve read it about… a fourth of the way through (if that) about three of four times, but this time I’m farther into the book than I’ve gotten previously and I’m excited.

       In second hour, Intro to Statistics, we had a test. I asked for the date of today to write at he top. “It’s the fifteenth,” some one told me. At first, I wrote it without a thought. Then I realized:  Tomorrow’s my birthday!  I can’t believe it slipped my mind!

       Anyway, I feel pretty good about the test. I’ll be knocked off my feet if I get 100% or even 99%, but I think I did pretty well. The test made that class period feel really short. And I managed to sneak a Quaker Oats bar. (And I so almost spelled “Quaker” as “quacker”.)  I hope no one’s allergic to peanuts in that class….

       In Honors Chemistry, we got the test we took on Friday back. I got eight wrong out of fifty-five total questions. Sounds okay, right? It’s an 85%. I left class last Friday feeling really good about it!  GR.   But I did get moved to the front which will, hopefully, help me do better on the next test.  And what I hate the most is that this test is the first I ever checked my answers for! You know how you’re always told that “if you finish your test early, you should go over your answers again and check them before turning it in”? I’ve never done that! Friday was the first time I ever actually went over the answers for each problem.

       Forth hour was pretty fun. We read Alice Watson’s essay, “Beauty: When the Other Dancer Is the Self,” for most of the time and my teacher read some excerpts from a journals we turned in on Friday, including an entry about hunting and a twelve-point buck with a “wide rack.” Yeah, the whole class burst out laughing but my teacher couldn’t figure it out.

 

       Dear Reader, I love you and I think you are the cat’s pajamas.

 

       Yeah, that was Izzy’s reaction, too. I told her that after reading it in my book. I showed her that line and she found just as much amusement as I did. I decided to steal her planner and write this newly discovered phrase all over the pages. It’s not uncommon for us to do that (last week, she screwed me over by writing “I just lost the game” on several pages). So I wrote all over it. On dates that are important to me and holidays and in the weekends. 

“Izzy, I think you are the cat’s pajamas!”
“You are THE cats pajamas!!”
“Cat + Pajamas = IZ!”
I even drew a picture of a cat and of pajamas.  

       Later in class, I took her planner again. I flipped through the pages to this week. My birthday is tomorrow and I was gonna write it in there. But, wait. I already wrote something about it in that week.  I flipped to the front…

       It wasn’t her planner. It wasn’t any one’s who was in the class. It was a guy I know of and really, really, really can’t stand. J.G. He is (I haven’t seen him around lately, though) a tall, rather large boy with a chubby face who took choir in eighth grade to have a blow-off class. The last I knew of him, he was immature, obnoxious, disrespectful, annoying, and just drove me up a wall!  But he left his planner in a class before mine, and now will find a humorous, nonsensical phrase repeated numerous times to some one he doesn’t know, anonymously.

       And, as evidenced by this nice, lenghty-ish post of actual writing, I had TIME! I had absolutely NO homework! None! Zilch!   Yay!

 

———-

 

       And I just got back from a surprise birthday party thrown for me! I’m so glad I didn’t have any homework at all today. If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. It was very, very fun. Although, I must admit, very emotionally draining. There were people there from several different groups of mine. My drama group, and old drama group, kids I met through my mom, my ex boyfriend (but current best friend – still. Yay), and my sister and her boyfriend. The thing is, I act differently around each group. Well, no, not differently. But I have different walls still standing with each different person and there were people that intimidated me, not matter how much I didn’t show it.

       It was an emotionally draining night, filled with more than its fair share of embarrassing moments that caused me to want to crawl under a rock until I could turn back time, laughing, awkwardness, and – naturally – surprises. All in all, though, a good night.

 

 

 

     Thing to smile about #11: Having a birthday party for the first time since I turned ten.

The Truth About Middle School No One Will Admit Until They’re Past It.

     Possibly the most amusing thing I’ve said recently:

 

“Yeah, eighth grade was weird for everybody because we were all ‘BlEhAH! Puberty!'”

 

 

 

Thing to smile about (at least for me) #8: Being happy I was only in middle school publicly for one year. And being able to laugh about it and myself of back then.