"It's Not Always Rainbows and Butterflies...

...it's compromise that moves us along..."

Right? You know you're singin' it. At least you are if you're a girl, and you've seen this YouTube clip a million times when Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams are awarded Best Kiss (I think I'm probably 50 of the 1 million+ views!).

Of course, Ryan Gosling isn't really Noah from the Notebook, and the adorable Feminist Flickr isn't exactly real. Which brings me to my blogpost.

I have blogged about George more than any other topic in this blog. Back in 2010, I blogged about how scared I was to one day live with the man. Reading that post again today helped calm me down a bit.

While George and I share many commonalities (ie: our sense of humor, mutual love of the outdoors, free-spirited nature, and love of deep philosophical convos), we are also very different.

I admittedly have two personalities. I can be very chill and laid back, but also very type A and obsessive. It's the Gemini in me. George tends to leave little trails in the house. Diet coke cans, beer bottles, shoes, socks, dishes, trash. I like every item in the house to have a home. I'm not a 'clean freak' (I shamelessly haven't dusted or vacuumed since moving in, which is horrible since we've been here since May 10th!) by any means. But I'm ORDERLY. And he's the opposite.

His apartment got so messy (before we got married), I wouldn't even spend the night and I rarely went over, because the disheveled wreck put me in anxiety mode. I just avoided it. Twice, I helped him all weekend completely organize his room. Both times I told him "I won't be doing this again." Ha.

So, I'm going on strike. Wife Strike. The reason is because it bothers me if housework is not done. It doesn't bother him if it's not done. And half the time, I'm fairly certain he's unaware of the work I even do. So I told him I was going on strike. I wasn't going to do a single chore until he was aware of how much I do, appreciates what I do, and helps out.

The laundry pile is continuing to grow...

Here's the thing. I love George. I love his heart, his mind, his personality, his quirks. But we both work full time jobs (and I'm VERY grateful for this!). I'm not a housewife. I'm a workin' woman. So why is it that when I come home, with swollen feet from being on them for 12 hours, I have to do 90% of the housework? Jessica Valenti coincidentally wrote an amazing article TODAY about this very topic. The Bureau of Labor Statistics (a legit source) shows that women-EVEN THOSE WITH FULL TIME JOBS-still do the bulk of housework. "On an average day, 48% of women and 19% of men did housework. Married women with children who work full time spend 51 minutes a day on housework while married men with children spend just 14 minutes a day." This is insane. Don't get me wrong...if I stayed home, I would expect to do all the housework. And if George did, I would expect him to do all the housework. When we BOTH work out of the home, we BOTH need to work in the home. Period. It's 2012. I know that George never had to worry about this before, and it's coming as a bit of a shock now, but I figure if I don't put my foot down in the first few months of our marriage, I'm setting myself up for misery. I don't want that, and I know he doesn't want that....

The dishes continue to sit....

It's so ridiculous, I think it's kind of humorous. That's why I decided to share publicly. That, and because for all 28 times that I've gushed about George, I think it's only fair to make an accurate portrayal of our relationship. Yes, I'm still giddy in love with him, and I know I'll love him forever. But he annoys me with his messiness, and I have to put my foot down at some point. I know it's sounding one sided since I'm the author of this post, so to be fair, I know I'm on his nerves right now, too. I know he thinks I'm being dramatic and mean. There are three sides to every story...his, hers, and the truth. My hope is that eventually (and hopefully that's SOONER rather than LATER) he will realize all I do, appreciate all I do, and help out. Until then, enjoy the disgusting pictures of our humble abode...

My biggest reason for going on strike is explained in this photo. About 4 days after moving in, George lost the mailbox and housekey. I never had a chance to make copies. I asked him multiple times to handle the situation, but going in the backdoor and ignoring the postal service seemed to be easier. I finally told him I'm going on strike. 

This was a note from George on our one and only toilet. He clogged it up with dog feces and paper towels after picking up the mess and doing one big flush. We didn't have a plunger. Past-tense, because I picked one up after work today. (I guess I'm not as tough as I like to think I am!)
 This was what I woke up to this morning. This is part of my reasoning for going all out in a "Wife Strike." 

This would be one of the other reasons! We have puppy pads. George either didn't know where they are (mind you we live in a 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom, 800 square foot house), or didn't want to take the time to get one out, so he put down two paper towels. All day long. This was before the wife strike. I cleaned up this mess, but this is also part of my reasoning for putting my foot down.

Everyday I clean up the dogs' puppy pad mess. Not today.

Everyday I clean up his Diet Coke cans. Not today.

Everyday I pick up his trash (wrappers, pieces of paper, empty boxes, etc.), and when the trash/recycling piles up, I usually take it out. Not today.

We got a package today. It's still sitting outside!

Oh yes. The straw that broke the camel's back. When George was hanging a shelf on our bedroom wall (a task that he does NOT care about or desire, and one I've been asking him to do for about 6 weeks), my vintage sconce from Canton fell and broke one of our Anthropologie coasters. The lightbulb shattered on the floor.
When I zombie-walked to the coffee maker yesterday morning, I stepped in broken glass because he didn't clean it up. He left the broken glass on the floor! After throwing a fit that evening, he hung the sconce back up but didn't replace the bulb or shade. So now it's sitting on the bed, and I'm NOT GOING TO FIX IT!

Okay. I feel better now. I've ranted, I've tried to maintain a neutral perspective, and I've shown the world (more like the few people who MIGHT care) that all that glitters isn't gold. I wouldn't trade George for anything in the world. I LOVE being married (believe it or not!) and living with my best friend. But I'm also not going to pretend that we are in this perfect relationship because it is the cool online social media thing to do. It's not perfect. Nobody's relationship is. I know this is transitional and I know we are going to get better at this living together thing.

xoxo,
L

Putting myself first.

Today was a lovely day off. Wednesdays are my favorite days to have off, because it breaks up the week, and I can be more productive than on the weekends when many businesses are closed.


Yesterday, I'd told George it would be nice to spend the majority of our day together, since his classes don't start up until next week.


I knew he'd be working on the top level of the music studio, but he said he could finish up early and come hang out with me for the afternoon.


This morning, I asked him, "Does that mean real person time, or George time, because typically you run a few hours late, and I don't want to wait or waste my day off." He got really defensive. After arguing, we got off the phone, and I went on about my day.


Today, I exercised. AND I NEVER WORK OUT! I felt good about myself, and it felt nice doing something I wouldn't do if we'd been together, nor would I have done if I'd had to work. I thought, "what else can I do, just for me?"


I hit up the library.

I haven't been to the public library in way too long. I got on one of the computers, and took a lesson in Portuguese. It was fascinating, stimulating, and fun, learning on my terms.

I gathered up a stash of great reads...

I got a pedicure...

I washed my clothes and the dogs...

And while laundry was circulating, I put my nose in a few good books. 

I LOVE the smell of books. New ones, old ones, "library" ones...they all have distinct smells, and I love them all.

Now, as I hear the dryer pushing clothes 'round and 'round, I'm typing again, which I've not done a lot of lately (relatively speaking, since my family often lovingly refers to me as the "internet whore").


I called George and when he answered, I told him I was sorry for upsetting him and for making him feel a need to be defensive. But I told him what I said, I still mean, only now I see it as a positive. If I had a boyfriend who dropped everything for me, I wouldn't take the time to drop everything for myself. I had a FANTASTIC day. It was self-centered, and I selfishly admit, I enjoyed it fully.


I am looking forward to dinner and drinks with my friend from OU tonight, and if George makes it over later, great. If not, my books will suffice, and I'll be just fine. 


I think we have a type of relationship other people might question or look at with cynicism, but I'll say, while being with George, I've learned more about myself than I could have with anybody else. And in the big picture, I think that's what I'm here to do. Get to know who I am, why I'm here, and how I can make this place better. George encourages all of these things, with active and passive roles. I'm once again, grateful.

Cleaning Up A Mess

I would like to start by saying I'M REALLY LUCKY. And very grateful. With that being said....

.....I'm terrified to live with a boy. To live with anybody, really. I had a couple of roommates in college, and when I was a senior, I got my own place. I've lived alone ever since, and DO NOT miss having a roommate! I just love making every decorating decision, and having everything neat and tidy. Occasionally, I'll leave a dish in the sink (SOAKING, of course! Never getting crunchy...), or go a week without sweeping. But that is the rarity, and it is much easier for me to be tolerant of my own mess.

Yesterday, George and I got lunch at Sea Siam.
http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/13/182129/restaurant/Sea-Siam-Keller
(Great Thai restaurant right by my apartment! $6.95 lunch special includes soup, salad, eggroll, and entree! All VEGAN options, too!!!)

(picture from: http://www.pegasusnews.com/places/sea-siam/)

I was so relieved that he had taken Teddy for a walk and to play ball outside prior to our date. That meant I didn't have to go home and let him out! But when I got home from work, his shock collar wasn't on (and he barked incessantly AT ME walking through the door). The puppy pad wasn't inside. A puddle of pee was on my freshly cleaned floor. An empty McDonalds coke was on the counter, and crumbs. A cereal bowl was crusty in my sink. An Oriental 2011 wall calendar that I had told George to keep because it did NOT match my place, was left on the table. One sock by the bed...one under my desk. I was furious.

I rudely texted him, and told him about the mess he'd left. I told him that I liked my place neat (as if he didn't know) and I didn't appreciate coming home to a pit.

After sipping some wine on my couch, and watching The View (I DVR this show daily, don't hate), I realized something HUGE.

I can clean up a mess. I can clean and sanitize my floors. These are fix-able. If I damage my relationship, how do I repair that? Can you ever really clean up a messy fight? Sometimes, words are said that we always remember. Fortunately, this wasn't one of our biggest brawls. I'd barely even consider it a fight. But I was grateful for that brief moment of clarity in the midst of my racing thoughts. I hope to focus more on that insight in the future.

I know that eventually George and I will be husband and wife. And sadly, we will be roommates. I just hope that I remember along the way that I am fortunate to have somebody like George in my life. He loves and accepts me AND my OCD tendencies. I guess if he can work on cleaning up after himself, and I can work on letting the little things go, we'll be just fine. But if there are any married couples...or co-habitating couples out there...PLEASE give me some advice!!!!!!!