Getting into the car headed to Costco…
Jenn: It smells like fart in here.
Hal: (deadpan) I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Jenn: No seriously, it smells like fart. (I start hysterically laughing) Were you farting the whole way home?
Hal: (He starts laughing too) I don’t smell anything.
Jenn: It’s impossible to deny. You should’ve at least cracked a window. I’m surprised you didn’t suffocate.
As soon as he turns the key, I quickly roll down my window.
Jenn: Roll down yours.
Hal: Why? It’s cold.
Jenn: We need the cross ventilation to get rid of the fart smell.
Hal: (still chuckling) I think you’re imagining things. It smells fine.
Two hours later, we’re getting back in the car after walking the entire floor of Costco.
Hal: It smells like fart in here.
We both burst out laughing, as we quickly roll down the windows.
The mystery may be gone, and the honeymoon may be over but the good times, as small, silly and insignificant (and smelly) as they may seem at times roll on.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Keen-what?
I’d like to think that Hal has an open mind when it comes to trying different foods. He loves sushi and Indian food. He likes Thai, Vietnamese, and Korean BBQ (I’m sensing an ethnic theme here). But when it comes to certain basics, I like to call him a purist. He prefers margarita pizza, spaghetti with marinara, iceberg lettuce, white bread...you get the idea. Until recently, whole wheat anything, ground turkey and romaine were not invited into his diet. And he doesn’t usually vary far out of the box when it comes to his interpretation of food. Rice is a side dish (best served with Chinese food); hamburgers are made with ground beef (and yet he likes Boca burgers); Craisins should never be added to salads (no matter how much they can enhance the experience). Every once in a while I am reminded of his purist nature (like in the grocery store on a Sunday evening), and then make a mental note to introduce dried cranberries, pesto sauce, goat cheese and whole wheat pasta into our children’s diets from a very young age.
In the middle of Stop & Shop...
Hal: Have you heard of that stuff...uh…kween…
Jenn: Quinoa? (Keen-wah)
Hal: Yeah, that’s it! What is that?
Jenn: It’s a grain. It’s supposed to be good for you. Why?
Hal: People at work have been talking about it. We should take a look at it.
Jenn: Really? Okay!
Considering we’ve only recently added brown rice into his diet, I was surprised that he wanted to explore other grain options. I found it encouraging, but was cautiously optimistic that we’d be adding quinoa to the cart, especially after watching Hal drool over frozen cream puffs. Some things just seem too healthy for his liking.
We got to the organic, natural, wholistic, unprocessed, sowed from the earth, area of the supermarket and I picked up a bag of red quinoa. In hindsight, I should have grabbed the regular, white quinoa which might’ve looked mildly familiar to Hal.
Hal: What’s that?
Jenn: The quinoa you were just talking about.
Hal: It looks like that? That looks weird. And it's like 5 bucks for that small bag.
Jenn: It’s not weird. It’s a grain, uncooked. What were you expecting?
Hal: I don’t know. It doesn’t look edible. What are you supposed to do with it? Use it like rice?
Jenn: Yeah! I’ve seen people make salads out of it. Like rice or couscous or lentil salad but instead you use this. (pause, sigh) Judging by the blank expression on your face I’m guessing you’ve never had rice salad and/or do not know what that is. And I’m guessing that the quinoa is a no-go.
Needless to say, Hal looked a bit turned off, actually disgusted would be more accurate, and bewildered by this never-before-seen food item that seemed beyond his comprehension, or digestion.
Hal: (exasperated) I don’t even know what you’re saying to me right now.
Jenn: AND, we’re done here.
We tried. For those more open to trying foods with funny spellings, click here for what looks to be a delicious greek quinoa salad.
In the middle of Stop & Shop...
Hal: Have you heard of that stuff...uh…kween…
Jenn: Quinoa? (Keen-wah)
Hal: Yeah, that’s it! What is that?
Jenn: It’s a grain. It’s supposed to be good for you. Why?
Hal: People at work have been talking about it. We should take a look at it.
Jenn: Really? Okay!
Considering we’ve only recently added brown rice into his diet, I was surprised that he wanted to explore other grain options. I found it encouraging, but was cautiously optimistic that we’d be adding quinoa to the cart, especially after watching Hal drool over frozen cream puffs. Some things just seem too healthy for his liking.
We got to the organic, natural, wholistic, unprocessed, sowed from the earth, area of the supermarket and I picked up a bag of red quinoa. In hindsight, I should have grabbed the regular, white quinoa which might’ve looked mildly familiar to Hal.
Hal: What’s that?
Jenn: The quinoa you were just talking about.
Hal: It looks like that? That looks weird. And it's like 5 bucks for that small bag.
Jenn: It’s not weird. It’s a grain, uncooked. What were you expecting?
Hal: I don’t know. It doesn’t look edible. What are you supposed to do with it? Use it like rice?
Jenn: Yeah! I’ve seen people make salads out of it. Like rice or couscous or lentil salad but instead you use this. (pause, sigh) Judging by the blank expression on your face I’m guessing you’ve never had rice salad and/or do not know what that is. And I’m guessing that the quinoa is a no-go.
Needless to say, Hal looked a bit turned off, actually disgusted would be more accurate, and bewildered by this never-before-seen food item that seemed beyond his comprehension, or digestion.
Hal: (exasperated) I don’t even know what you’re saying to me right now.
Jenn: AND, we’re done here.
We tried. For those more open to trying foods with funny spellings, click here for what looks to be a delicious greek quinoa salad.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Mutually ignoring the mutual agreement
Last weekend we purchased my wedding band. It’s really pretty. Actually, I’m in love with it. It’s fairly slender and delicate with 6 small diamonds running along the top of it that pretty much cover the top of my finger. It looks beautiful with my engagement ring, or worn by itself (you know I love options). I didn’t want to take it off but Hal was pretty vehement in saying that I couldn’t wear it until our wedding day. Initially, I said Bah! to that since he’s been wearing his sporadically. But then conceded once I thought Hal and I had a mutual agreement to stop wearing our rings until our ‘special special’ day.
That didn’t stop us though from taking a moment to “practice” as we each slipped the respective rings onto the other person’s finger. It made me really excited, almost to the point where I could’ve dragged us down to city hall that day.
So the wedding band has been sitting, nestled in its box and I swear I’ve only taken it out a few times to try it on (We had a mutual agreement. No promises were actually made). I tried it on once to show my parents, who loved it. I tried it on again in the privacy of my office at work since I had been carrying it around for the aforementioned unveiling. And I tried it on one more time at home with no one around just because I felt compelled to see the two rings side-by-side on my finger. I’m still in love.
Since the band was purchased, Hal has been seemingly good about not wearing his band. Then I woke up this morning and saw this.
"What are you doing??", I exclaimed to a very sleep fiancée. Even in his slumberous state he knew what I was referring to and smirked.
Jenn: We agreed!
Hal: Yes, that you wouldn’t wear your band. We didn’t say I couldn’t wear mine.
That certainly wasn’t how I remembered the conversation going, but truth be told I didn’t really mind him wearing it since I like how it looks, and I love that he wants to wear it. Not what I was expecting from a man who, prior to buying his ring, made it seem like he was going to feel metaphorically strangled by this new piece of metal around his finger.
Following my admonishment, I did admit to him that I’d put my band on a few times since then. He figured.
Yep, I think we’re made for each other.
That didn’t stop us though from taking a moment to “practice” as we each slipped the respective rings onto the other person’s finger. It made me really excited, almost to the point where I could’ve dragged us down to city hall that day.
So the wedding band has been sitting, nestled in its box and I swear I’ve only taken it out a few times to try it on (We had a mutual agreement. No promises were actually made). I tried it on once to show my parents, who loved it. I tried it on again in the privacy of my office at work since I had been carrying it around for the aforementioned unveiling. And I tried it on one more time at home with no one around just because I felt compelled to see the two rings side-by-side on my finger. I’m still in love.
Since the band was purchased, Hal has been seemingly good about not wearing his band. Then I woke up this morning and saw this.
"What are you doing??", I exclaimed to a very sleep fiancée. Even in his slumberous state he knew what I was referring to and smirked.
Jenn: We agreed!
Hal: Yes, that you wouldn’t wear your band. We didn’t say I couldn’t wear mine.
That certainly wasn’t how I remembered the conversation going, but truth be told I didn’t really mind him wearing it since I like how it looks, and I love that he wants to wear it. Not what I was expecting from a man who, prior to buying his ring, made it seem like he was going to feel metaphorically strangled by this new piece of metal around his finger.
Following my admonishment, I did admit to him that I’d put my band on a few times since then. He figured.
Yep, I think we’re made for each other.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
To test and protect
I’ve been experiencing blogger’s block. The past week has had more downs than ups but doesn’t need to be relived, and sometimes it is just enough to say, “it’s a lot of life.”
But yesterday I was reminded of a very random conversation the fiancée (then the boyfriend) and I had fairly early on in our relationship. Perhaps I was more cognizant of this when we first starting dating, but I think it’s only natural for new couples to “test” each other. It’s one way of figuring stuff out: how the other person really feels; how invested s/he is in this relationship; how they handle the unexpected, or your parents…And while I can admit that some of these “tests” are absolutely ridiculous, I’m happy to report that retrospectively I find them amusing.
A while back, I distinctly remember asking Hal at what point would he risk his own safety to protect mine. If it was a loaded question, that was not my intention. I merely wanted to ascertain whether or not he thought his instincts would kick in if we found ourselves in a perilous situation, and if he would take on the protector role.
He gave me this quizzical look, like ‘what’s she really fishing for?’, and then thoughtfully responded, “I don’t know.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting him to say but that just didn’t seem to be it so I painted him a picture in which the scenario was perhaps even more random than the question.
Jenn: Well, let’s say it’s late at night and we’re sleeping and suddenly there’s an earthquake. The house is violently shaking and a large piece of furniture begins to fall onto the bed. Would you cover me with your body in hopes of blocking the furniture from falling on me?
Hal looked confused and slightly amused, but I knew he was really thinking WTF? Admittedly, there were certainly flaws within the scenario I’d presented which may have detracted from getting an honest response. Living in NY, we experience very few earthquakes. And while our bedroom has pieces of furniture in it, I don’t think any of them stand tall enough to topple over onto our bed. But he should get the point, right? Not the man who focuses primarily on the rational and doesn’t always see the meaning beyond the inaccuracies of the scenario.
So I tried again, this time presenting a scene in a bar where some large, unsavory fellow won’t leave me alone despite my adamant objections to his tenacious attention. Sounds good, right? Hal shrugged and said (somewhat unconvincingly), “I guess I would come to your defense”.
At this point, I don’t know why I persisted. It’s not like “ready and willing to take a bullet” is on the list of criteria I’m looking for in a partner, unless he works for the secret service. I don’t lead an action-packed life with car chases, spontaneous bar fights, or flying bullets. In essence, I don’t need a protector. But I wanted to hear more than ambiguity. I think I wanted to know that he cared enough to keep me out of harm’s way, not necessarily at the expense of his own peril, because somehow that signified he really really cared about me. Sensing my frustration (and perhaps the test), Hal relented and told me with more gusto that he would stand between me and the large, unsavory man. I took it to mean he cared (and made a mental note to be grateful we don’t get earthquakes in NY that often).
Fast forward more than two years later and it’s Hal’s turn to randomly share his thoughts on what he’d do to someone if they ever hurt me. Suffice it to say, he definitely cares about me.
But yesterday I was reminded of a very random conversation the fiancée (then the boyfriend) and I had fairly early on in our relationship. Perhaps I was more cognizant of this when we first starting dating, but I think it’s only natural for new couples to “test” each other. It’s one way of figuring stuff out: how the other person really feels; how invested s/he is in this relationship; how they handle the unexpected, or your parents…And while I can admit that some of these “tests” are absolutely ridiculous, I’m happy to report that retrospectively I find them amusing.
A while back, I distinctly remember asking Hal at what point would he risk his own safety to protect mine. If it was a loaded question, that was not my intention. I merely wanted to ascertain whether or not he thought his instincts would kick in if we found ourselves in a perilous situation, and if he would take on the protector role.
He gave me this quizzical look, like ‘what’s she really fishing for?’, and then thoughtfully responded, “I don’t know.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting him to say but that just didn’t seem to be it so I painted him a picture in which the scenario was perhaps even more random than the question.
Jenn: Well, let’s say it’s late at night and we’re sleeping and suddenly there’s an earthquake. The house is violently shaking and a large piece of furniture begins to fall onto the bed. Would you cover me with your body in hopes of blocking the furniture from falling on me?
Hal looked confused and slightly amused, but I knew he was really thinking WTF? Admittedly, there were certainly flaws within the scenario I’d presented which may have detracted from getting an honest response. Living in NY, we experience very few earthquakes. And while our bedroom has pieces of furniture in it, I don’t think any of them stand tall enough to topple over onto our bed. But he should get the point, right? Not the man who focuses primarily on the rational and doesn’t always see the meaning beyond the inaccuracies of the scenario.
So I tried again, this time presenting a scene in a bar where some large, unsavory fellow won’t leave me alone despite my adamant objections to his tenacious attention. Sounds good, right? Hal shrugged and said (somewhat unconvincingly), “I guess I would come to your defense”.
At this point, I don’t know why I persisted. It’s not like “ready and willing to take a bullet” is on the list of criteria I’m looking for in a partner, unless he works for the secret service. I don’t lead an action-packed life with car chases, spontaneous bar fights, or flying bullets. In essence, I don’t need a protector. But I wanted to hear more than ambiguity. I think I wanted to know that he cared enough to keep me out of harm’s way, not necessarily at the expense of his own peril, because somehow that signified he really really cared about me. Sensing my frustration (and perhaps the test), Hal relented and told me with more gusto that he would stand between me and the large, unsavory man. I took it to mean he cared (and made a mental note to be grateful we don’t get earthquakes in NY that often).
Fast forward more than two years later and it’s Hal’s turn to randomly share his thoughts on what he’d do to someone if they ever hurt me. Suffice it to say, he definitely cares about me.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Fortune Cookie
My fortune cookie from the other day:
The virtue lies in the struggle, not in the prize.
Right about now I'd be willing to be a little less virtuous if that meant I would have a little less of a struggle. And the prize is just what you make of it.
When it rains, it pours. I just have to hold on a little more tightly to the umbrella until the storm passes.
The virtue lies in the struggle, not in the prize.
Right about now I'd be willing to be a little less virtuous if that meant I would have a little less of a struggle. And the prize is just what you make of it.
When it rains, it pours. I just have to hold on a little more tightly to the umbrella until the storm passes.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Message from beyond aka the backseat
During lunch with my dad today, he shared the following with me.
Dad: I got a message out of nowhere from someone.
Jenn: Who?
Dad: My mother.
She has been dead for over 25 years, by the way. My heart skips a beat.
Jenn: Where?
Dad: I was in the car and she spoke to me. It was as if she was talking from the backseat of the car. It lasted all of a few seconds.
Jenn: What did she say?
Dad: She said, "you’re going to live until you’re 97".
Jenn: Wow.
What else does one say to this?
Dad: I knew it was her because she spoke to me in Spanish and she called me Jose Antonio, which is what she used to call me as a kid...I got the chills and then the hair stood up on my arms.
Me too. We then proceeded to discuss aging and whether living until your 97 is really so great, especially if you're alone. So what could have been a touchingly ethereal experience for my dad, now became a chat about growing old and losing all your friends and loved ones to death. Lovely lunchtime fodder for thought...
Dad: I got a message out of nowhere from someone.
Jenn: Who?
Dad: My mother.
She has been dead for over 25 years, by the way. My heart skips a beat.
Jenn: Where?
Dad: I was in the car and she spoke to me. It was as if she was talking from the backseat of the car. It lasted all of a few seconds.
Jenn: What did she say?
Dad: She said, "you’re going to live until you’re 97".
Jenn: Wow.
What else does one say to this?
Dad: I knew it was her because she spoke to me in Spanish and she called me Jose Antonio, which is what she used to call me as a kid...I got the chills and then the hair stood up on my arms.
Me too. We then proceeded to discuss aging and whether living until your 97 is really so great, especially if you're alone. So what could have been a touchingly ethereal experience for my dad, now became a chat about growing old and losing all your friends and loved ones to death. Lovely lunchtime fodder for thought...
Monday, October 5, 2009
Do you? I DO!
Hal ordered his wedding band online last week. Yes, online. What can we say, we’re a couple on a budget and I was most concerned with making sure he got something he liked and would wear. He was choosing between a titanium and tungsten band, but decided on the latter since it had significantly more weight to it. There was definitely a joke in there about the ring representing the weight of marriage on his soul, or something silly like that…
We had his ring finger measured at a jewelry store and then that evening he purchased it, unbeknownst to me. (By the way, did you know your ring size is usually the same as your shoe size?) I knew he had been looking at them but didn’t realize he had gone ahead and ordered it. It was kind of a sweet moment when he told me he bought it – like, wow he really does want to marry me. Of course I knew this already (hence the ring I wear every day) but it was a nice reminder.
And then it came in the mail a few days later. Just like that his wedding band was sitting in our house, waiting to be worn at any moment. He opened it and I slipped it on his finger (September 26, 2010 be damned). I’m fairly certain that in Haiti this means we’re married. It was a perfect fit! He wore it for the rest of the day. Having never worn any type of rings on his fingers, Hal was unaccustomed to the feel and the weight, which was his reasoning for continually wearing it. “I’m really going to need to get used to this”. I told him that he’d better get used to it (but I said it sweetly). It looks good on him; the color of the tungsten suits him, and it’s clearly a strong, noticeable band. We like this.
Actually, I think Hal really likes it. He wore it again the next day (but only at home), and I actually got on bended knee at one point and proposed to him with it (why not have a little fun, right). He’s worn it to sleep and in the shower. At this point, I’m not sure if he’s getting accustomed to it or testing out its reputation for being incredibly durable.
Just as Hal will from time to time affectionately run his finger along my engagement ring, the way you might run your fingers along a picture like you’re trying to touch the memory of when it was taken, is what I kept doing to his ring. Maybe some might think we're jinxing things by having him wear the ring 'just around'. But this practice period doesn't mean the significance of the band means less to us. I think it's actually been reinforcing just how much we can't wait to be married to each other, to make it official. When he finally took it off, we both missed it.
I feel like we’re in almost-wedded bliss. The future Skelley’s have a lot to look forward to.
We had his ring finger measured at a jewelry store and then that evening he purchased it, unbeknownst to me. (By the way, did you know your ring size is usually the same as your shoe size?) I knew he had been looking at them but didn’t realize he had gone ahead and ordered it. It was kind of a sweet moment when he told me he bought it – like, wow he really does want to marry me. Of course I knew this already (hence the ring I wear every day) but it was a nice reminder.
And then it came in the mail a few days later. Just like that his wedding band was sitting in our house, waiting to be worn at any moment. He opened it and I slipped it on his finger (September 26, 2010 be damned). I’m fairly certain that in Haiti this means we’re married. It was a perfect fit! He wore it for the rest of the day. Having never worn any type of rings on his fingers, Hal was unaccustomed to the feel and the weight, which was his reasoning for continually wearing it. “I’m really going to need to get used to this”. I told him that he’d better get used to it (but I said it sweetly). It looks good on him; the color of the tungsten suits him, and it’s clearly a strong, noticeable band. We like this.
Actually, I think Hal really likes it. He wore it again the next day (but only at home), and I actually got on bended knee at one point and proposed to him with it (why not have a little fun, right). He’s worn it to sleep and in the shower. At this point, I’m not sure if he’s getting accustomed to it or testing out its reputation for being incredibly durable.
Just as Hal will from time to time affectionately run his finger along my engagement ring, the way you might run your fingers along a picture like you’re trying to touch the memory of when it was taken, is what I kept doing to his ring. Maybe some might think we're jinxing things by having him wear the ring 'just around'. But this practice period doesn't mean the significance of the band means less to us. I think it's actually been reinforcing just how much we can't wait to be married to each other, to make it official. When he finally took it off, we both missed it.
I feel like we’re in almost-wedded bliss. The future Skelley’s have a lot to look forward to.
Friday, October 2, 2009
No woman no cry
Despite the unexpected and unpredictable twists and turns life has taken over the past couple of weeks, I have to say that my heart feels incredibly full. Witnessing the love and support of friends, receiving it yourself, and then passing it on to those who need it the most has made my heart swell; I can feel it now expanding in my chest. It’s like when you’re overtaken with emotion, except this has been a constant presence lately.
They say when times get tough, that’s when you find out who your true friends are. Agreed, but I think it’s also a time when friends become family and the compassion becomes palpable. It’s a tremendous experience that may only surface during moments of crisis, but it makes the hard times survivable, and even a bit inspiring.
I’ve lived in the moment more than ever before. I’ve grown up more than ever before. I’ve seen myself and my fiancée in a new light. And I’ve come out of these past two weeks feeling more loved than ever before.
Everything’s gonna be alright.
They say when times get tough, that’s when you find out who your true friends are. Agreed, but I think it’s also a time when friends become family and the compassion becomes palpable. It’s a tremendous experience that may only surface during moments of crisis, but it makes the hard times survivable, and even a bit inspiring.
I’ve lived in the moment more than ever before. I’ve grown up more than ever before. I’ve seen myself and my fiancée in a new light. And I’ve come out of these past two weeks feeling more loved than ever before.
Everything’s gonna be alright.
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