The Argument I Had With My Husband

So remember how in the last post I was whining about how we can’t find an apartment in which to reside anywhere in all of Columbus, Ohio? We found an apartment. Barring calamity, we will have shelter from the winter winds and also off-street parking.

And this is where the differences between me and my sweet, witty, and shockingly handsome husband become more apparent. (Speaking of which…Kyle, have I told you today that you are sweet and witty and shockingly handsome?)

Here’s how the conversation went:

Elizabeth: “I totally want to rent this apartment. I think it could be a whole new adventure!”

Kyle: “See, I feel like you have a really weird definition of ‘adventure.’ When I think ‘adventure,’ I think, ‘skydiving,’ ‘bunjee-jumping,’ ‘extreme sports…’ When you think of ‘adventure,’ you think of rundown old apartments in creepy neighborhoods

Elizabeth: It’s not creepy! It was built in the 1950’s! It looks like where the heroine in a Nora Ephron movie would live! It’s quirky and vintage!

Kyle: You mean, ‘old and decrepit.’

This is the point in the blog post where I say it. Men.

Sweet, Witty, and Shockingly Handsome redeemed himself by following that last comment up with: “I can live anywhere as long as I’m there with you. I just want you to be happy.” That’s the answer I was hoping for.



Anyway, we’re feeling hopeful about this place. I’ll let you know when we know for sure!

love, elizabeth

My Hipster Husband

I can’t decide who in this picture I want to kiss more.



Kyle: If you were ever hideously ugly and grotesque...I would want to be hideously ugly and grotesque so we could be ugly and grotesque together.

Elizabeth: That's so romantic.





I’ve finally decided to actually blog about how Kyle and I met and fell in love and all of it. It’s a complicated one, I guess, and not very many people have heard the whole story. I wrote the first chapter and I’ll be posting it this coming week. I hope you’ll come back and read.

love, elizabeth

Girl Confessions

More girl thoughts today…

1. I’ve pretty much cut foundation out of my make-up routine entirely. Instead, I’ve been using a lot of this. My skin is so happy.

2. Ryan Gosling just saved a woman from being hit by a car, further proving himself worthy to be my movie husband. I have talked about before.

3. I can’t stop messing with my blog header. It’s like a pimple.

4. I watched this episode of New Girl last week and I cannot remember the last time I laughed that hard. Seriously perfect dialogue. If you aren’t hooked on this show yet, Dermot Mulroney’s guest appearance will sell you. I embedded my favorite clip for you.

5. This video makes me want to time-travel. Although I’d probably be just as uncoordinated in the 1920’s.

6. When I went into Starbucks this morning and saw my husband behind the counter, I got all tongue-tied and shy ordering my caramel latte. And then he wrote this on my cup. Love of my life.

What about you? Got any girl confessions today?

love, elizabeth

More of This

Instead of television, which I have given up in case you missed this post, I want to...

Do more of this...

Source: benonsensical.com via Elizabeth on Pinterest

(Maybe I won't always wear heels but hey, gotta look good for the books.)

And this...

Source: weheartit.com via Elizabeth on Pinterest

Hopefully some of this...

Source: bourbonandpearls.tumblr.com via Elizabeth on Pinterest

(Both the cooking and the making out with my husband part. Yeah.)

And finally...



Source: designcrushblog.com via Elizabeth on Pinterest

What about you? What kinds of things occupy your not-plugged-in time?

love, elizabeth

Girl Confessions

I’ve had some girl-thoughts this weekend and it’s time for me to share them here. That’s how utterly consequential they are.

1. I really love wearing make-up. And Kyle’s old band t-shirts. It makes me feel like I’m still 17. Sometimes I miss being 17. My friend Sarah over at Sarahcastically is sharing hilarious eye make-up tips today. Check it out.

2. Sometimes I pretend I’m in a music video. Like this one. Just for example.



I probably couldn’t pull off that sweater.

3. While I remain faithful to both my real-life husband Kyle and my movie husband Ryan Gosling, I need to say that Billy Baldwin is really beautiful. I know, I know. He is sooooo 1991. But let’s be serious. How is he not a cop/fireman/fbi agent in real life? He really makes diving into the water sideways while shooting ex-KGB militants look like a cake walk. And he does that surprised/man sad look so well. Plus he’s the only actor who wear that much hair gel and not look like a New Jersey car salesman.

Photo credit

4. I really, REALLY love Valentine’s Day. Sometimes I just walk up and down the Valentine’s aisle in the grocery store, just to try and absorb all the hot pink gorillas and conversation hearts. It’s a problem.

Here’s a tiny preview of what you’re all going to have to suffer through in the month of February…



I made that.

And that’s ten minutes you just spend reading this that you are never going to get back. You’re welcome.

Bring on the Monday!

love, elizabeth

PS: Be sure to stop back for the Valentine's Day giveaway tomorrow!

Celebrate Everything

Continuing my commitment to celebrate the little things, here’s my weekly celebration list:

1. A cup of tea with my friend Rosie. We had the loveliest conversation.

2. Losing 3.2 pounds this week.

3. A spontaneous date with my husband. I didn’t even realize how much I was craving his undivided attention and advice.

4. Starting the compilation of my candidacy exam reading list. This may sound silly – celebrating a list I haven’t even finished writing (let alone reading) but this one was weighing on my mind and just getting started makes it seem less scary.

5. The Yellow Sale at Bath and Body Works where stuff in the store is up to 75% off. This is a trivial one but I scored some really happy-scented lotion and some cozy candles. Smell is a big one for me, especially in the winter time. My new favorite? Strawberry Sparkler. (Girls, the travel-size is $1.25 online right now…just saying…)

Well, there we go. Operation: Celebrate Everything continues…

Source: bwcheesecake.tumblr.com via Elizabeth on Pinterest

 

What about you? What are you celebrating this week?

love, elizabeth

He Makes Me Laugh

Kyle and I were taking a walk through our neighborhood the other day and I was being kind of flirty. This is the kind of conversation that happens when we spend too much time together.

Elizabeth: You have a great butt.

Kyle: Why, thank you. I am, in fact, a butt model.

Elizabeth: Oh, really?

Kyle: Yeah. As a matter of fact, my butt is so great that I model both men AND women’s clothes.

Elizabeth: Wow, you’re very talented.

Kyle: Yeah. I’m ambi-butt-erous.

And then he may or may not have done a little dance.

 

I married a really funny guy. He makes me laugh. Every day.

What about you? Participated in a funny conversation recently?

love, elizabeth

No Returns, Refunds, or Exchanges

In the car today, I was teasing Kyle that I had better take good care of him since I couldn’t get my money back. I decided to write a manufacturer’s warranty tag for my husband

 

 

Limited Warranty for Kyle:

Made in Heaven. See reverse side for care instructions.

All sales final. No returns, refunds, or exchanges. As husband is guaranteed one of a kind, unique, and original purchase, some variation in texture/color/materials/odor is normal. Customer agrees that all maintenance shall herewith be administered by responsible party. This warranty does not cover dents, nicks, bruises, and/or internal damage. This warranty does not cover any improper use of husband, including but not limited to childish insults, backseat driving, (accidental) food-poisoning, throwing of pots and pans, PMS-induced rage, and submersion in water and/or storage near heat source. Hand wash cold. Tumble dry low as needed. Snuggling, picture-hanging, and bad taste in movies included.

 

What about you? If you were writing a limited warranty for a partner or spouse, what would it say?

love, elizabeth

Hypothetically...

What do you do if you sleep through your alarm and when you finally hear it, it's already 8:15 and you're supposed to be at work in 15 minutes?

Answer: You shriek and bound into the other room where your husband has passed out, after working all night, and say, "KYLEIAMGOINGTOBELATECANYOUPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEDRIVEMEBECAUSEIAMREALLYBADATDRIVINGILLEGALLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!"

And if you're the greatest husband of your generation, you wake instantly and, instead of throwing something at my head (which is what I would have done), you leap up and throw your contacts in like some kind of skinny, Irish superhero and say, your green eyes flashing, "Let's take the Subaru."

Cue theme music.

or this...




Entirely hypothetical, of course.

love, elizabeth

PS: I am going to be in Louisville for a wedding for the rest of the week BUT I already have three amazing guest-posts lined up and you are really, really not going to want to miss them! Tomorrow, Ashley from A Recipe for Sanity will be sharing a piece of her love story with us. I will be tweeting wedding details @Lohleegaggle from the great city of Louisville so if you want to keep up with me, FOLLOW ME HERE.

So Much She Loved the Man…

 

"So much she loved the man, so close and closer she felt herself that he became distorted in her vision, like pressing her nose upon a mirror and gazing into her own eyes. She felt the lines of his neck and his chipped profile like segments of the wind blowing about her consciousness. She felt the essence of herself pulled finer and smaller like those streams of spun glass that pull and stretch till there remains but a glimmering illusion. Neither falling nor breaking, the stream spins finer. She felt herself very small and ecstatic. Alabama was in love.”

- Zelda Fitzgerald, Save Me the Last Waltz

"Don't Be a Butthead" and 7 Other Things My Husband Has Taught Me

First, I'm sorry to my small group of readers/followers. Not only did I get hit with the regular holiday busy-ness but I have since started one of the more intense periods of grad school (the traditional pull-your-hair-out-and-howl-at-the-moon phase, aka: thesis writing). But this is a post I've been thinking about for awhile and I thought I would share here.

Winston Churchill tells us that criticism is necessary, that "it calls attention to an unhealthy state of things." All the same, I don't know anyone who truly enjoys receiving criticism. We might put on a brave, smiling face in its onslaught, all the time seething inwardly and hating ourselves for being less than perfection. Or maybe that's just me. Abraham Lincoln says, "He has a right to criticize who has a heart to help." I don't know about any of you, but I've experienced plenty of criticism that didn't feel much like help. It mostly just felt like "ouch."

So put yourself in the defensive crouch that I work myself into at the start of every day as I wait for someone to inform me of what I am already, constantly, painfully aware: I am not perfect(I'm sure this comes as a quite a shock to all of you). It's the day after Christmas and post-presents, roast beast, and merriment, we're at home in our little apartment. Without rehashing the entire evening, I'll explain that my brother was elaborating on a video game that he really loves and I, in a bad mood for reasons that don't really matter, brushed off his conversation with something like, "Yeah, yeah, whatever." This went on for a few minutes during which I grew ruder and ruder until Kyle, the love of my life, my best friend IN the universe, says from over the breakfast bar, "Elizabeth...don't be a butthead."

Of course, my first reaction was to be angry, defensive, hurt even. I am a scolded child. I mean, I think, he's a butthead ALL THE TIME and I never say ANYTHING! I give my husband a dirty look from across the room. I slam the door. I don't speak to him for half an hour. And I ponder, was I a butthead? Of course, I was. I had been selfish and rude and unkind and generally focused on myself instead of my baby brother whom I see rarely. In short...a butthead. I am already sorry, of course, but I don't want to admit it. I don't want to say those horrible little words, "I was wrong." I stew. I pout. I frown. And then I suck it up and tell Kyle he was right.

And this, you guys, is a HUGE moment. Not because I'm so mature for admitting I was wrong or because my brother and I overcame some huge conflict or even because I recognize my buttheaded-ness (it's a word) but because I have a husband with "a heart to help" and I haven't ever seen it this clearly before...

So here are some things I've learned from Kyle in the time that I have been privileged to know him so far. The list grows every day but here's a few:

1. Always say 'I love you' when you have the chance. You don't know how many more opportunities you will get before they're gone. (Kyle lost his brother, Orion, at the age of 29.)

2. Don't be so afraid of getting hurt, being uncomfortable, or breaking your heart (or arms, legs, and toes) that you miss out on all the scary things worth doing (falling in love, moving across the country, skateboarding off a roof).

3. There is power in laughter. If you have a sense of humor about yourself, no one can use laughter against you. If your fight isn't about life, death, or taxes, it's okay to laugh (it's probably okay to laugh, anyway).

4. God is not afraid of our pain or our toughest questions.

5. Confidence is not an ethereal quality that is given to some and not to others. It demands practice. (This is what Kyle tries to explain every time I complain that I get lost when I drive by myself or tell him I'm not strong enough to do something.)

6. Beauty is not in the perfect notes or shapes or words or colors. It's in the mistakes and space and silences that come as we strive to find it. (punk music at our wedding ceremony, Sharpie doodles on utility bills and take-out containers, and the nose crooked from being broken so many times).

7. Popcorn is better with soy sauce. (I didn't believe this until I tried it).

So to anyone reading this, I'm thinking good New Year's thoughts for you. If you can't laugh at yourself, you can at least laugh at me!

Yours affectionately,

The Butthead