Of Buns and Ovens

Nope not pregnant. Didn't mean to get you all excited. And no pregnancy isn't overwhelmingly on my brain. Neither is finding a house, which it had been for so long.  Instead we decided to focus on becoming debt free, so I took a good chunk out of the nest egg and put it towards our debts: car debt, credit card debt, woosh! vanished. Now we just have to conquer our student loans and look toward recovering that bit of nest egg while we consider where to build said nest.

We've been talking a lot about where we would like to see ourselves in five to ten years, and we both agree that if possible, we would like to be able to work part time only, and lead a slightly slower paced life focusing on personal projects that make us happy. This is on the tail of a rather dramatic and potentially traumatic (or amazing) patch of rough water in my office. While the drama does not directly involve me, it could potentially change my life for the better or the worse in the next month or so.  Insecurity is dangerous place to totter.

We've been talking a lot to my brother about financial issues etcetera. My brother, who makes three times more money than hubby and I, yet is 5 times more likely to have to borrow money, feels he is in a good position to tell us what we should be doing and why what we are doing is stupid... In any event, he has a beautiful new home with a pool, somewhere around the armpit of the golden coast and we in turn weigh our options. Because while 10 times the space we live in filled with every comfort a young couple could desire is tempting. Being able to walk to the beach, makes us pretty darn spoiled. As does the wonderfully breezy rarely sweltering climate, and access to food and culture and art within walking distance. Would we like a yard and a space that feels more like a home than a "place we stay"? Yes, absolutely. But we don't have school aged kids to think of in terms of space and convenience. Nor are we particularly invested in any one area. And in August, my brothers Mc Mansion will be his only respite from the Mc Oven of the Inland Empire.

We've actually been considering saving up and buying a hippie farm somewhere near Santa Barbara. We'd purchase the land outright and basically create our own community of homes filled with neighbors we want to spend the rest of our life sharing coffee and wine with. This is not simply the dream, this is the goal for the next ten years. We'd have to consider the specifics of where so that we can financially survive while still having the conveniences and luxuries we need.

And on to that bun portion of this rhapsody or diatribe, as you will...Have you seen the movie Idiocracy? If you haven't please rent it prior to reading this. Hubby was recently talking to an old friend from high school, who hadn't done much since then. No great goals, no grand ideas, a few stints in jail perhaps. Basically the only thing this person had done with his life is breed. Please forgive this next judgmental assertion: When I look at the breeders in my life, those who's goal is to personally "fill the earth and subdue it" 99% have little to no motivation, education, or vision.  Its like the only mark they plan to leave behind when they die, is a long line of offspring. This in itself would not be so bad, if the intellectuals I know were also breeders. Unfortunately most of them are too busy pursuing life's treasures to treasure the life they could bring into it. The slippery slope of Idiocracy is that world is eventually populated by the lowest common denominator of humanity. This premise feels very... prophetic these days. So we have decided, we probably really need to have at least one kid. Of course we can change our mind tomorrow, but lately this has been the conclusion.

It isn't that we're exactly trying to have kids, but we've switched our perspective to not actively trying not to, if that makes sense. The good little former health educator in me, knows exactly what should be done to not get pregnant. So playing fast and loose (wow, now that's a gross pun) is a huge step for us in an effort to save humanity from its otherwise impending doom. At this point if we get pregnant it is neither on accident, or on purpose, it simply is. This is basically procreation Russian Roulette.

Its nearly our one year anniversary.  No one was kidding that time starts flying. I can't believe it. I still feel so much like a newly wed, only now I can offer sagely advice. I think the the strangest part has been my shift in perception. I am admittedly a perfectionist, and was therefore disappointed that my wedding wasn't as perfect as I would have liked. I tend to invest a lot of myself in the things I put my name on, and expect myself to accomplish the impossible. For some people my wedding was just that. My mom reminisces all the time about it being the most beautiful wedding she had ever attended, but then again, she's my mom. I think I did the best I could for spending as little as I spent. But the downside of wedding season is you cannot help but compare what you accomplished to what others did. I know my particular mental issues left me hyper critical of everything that went wrong-- which there were so few and so many things all at once.

I didn't dislike my wedding, I just left it a bit unfulfilled. Maybe because it took me months to unwind afterwards. Maybe because I was hypersensitive to what I wanted that was missing or changed out of necessity.  Maybe because it didn't live up to being the "Best Day of My life" because although it was a beautiful day and I love my husband very much, I don't define myself by being married. However, eleven months into being married,  I find myself thinking back on the day with more rose colored hues than I did 11, 6, or even 3 months ago. Almost a year into wedded life and the stress of throwing a wedding is finally diminishing and I can appreciate the day for what it was. I appreciate it for the simplicity and meaning and time spent with those I love the most. I appreciate my two amazing bachelorette parties thrown by my two amazing maids of honor. I appreciate the giant slumber party in the venue the night before that culminated with me and my besty blowing bubbles and singing "Somewhere Out There" and the late night BBQ. I appreciate the early mornings with my mother watching the fog roll out of the valley below us, and the really bad karaoke that followed the end of the reception. I appreciate the contentment in my father's face and the light in my hubby's eyes when he saw me. A year after my wedding, I am beginning to fall in love with it. Perhaps five years down the road I will remember it as the best day of my life.

I guess the theme if this blog today is that life is anything but certain. Certainty comes when life is in the past. Looking back at choices, our visions is 20/20. But looking forward it always feels so hazy. For the moment, there is the semblance of contentment before the next big wave washes me out to sea or carries me back to the shore.

What's in a name? ...And other Tragedies. Or, What the Wedding Books Don't Tell You Part 2

Changing one's name is strangely traumatic. Unless you were cursed with an unfortunate moniker such as Afadass, Mandic, or Hooker, most of us are not running to get our name changed, even though it is a sign of respect for your partner and a way to solidify your union, because changing your name isn't simply donning a new hat. Changing your name is open heart surgery. It can be painful, scary, and potentially life threatening.

A name is deeply entangled with one's identity. This is even more true, if your name is used for professional as well as personal purposes. I mean, at the very least, you have spent 18 years carving out who you are, or in my case 20-30 some odd, and then all of the sudden you find you have to be someone new. I say have to, even though, technically name changing is a choice, because the expectations and emotions tied to the name changing ritual can be a make them or break them scenario to one's friends and extended family.

I tried to convince my hubby to take a new name with me. Something that would be completely unique to us. He wasn't having it.

He also did not force me to take his name, but I realized that taking it showed a solidarity to our union. I mean, why marry him if I wasn't willing to consider us one?

Still I dragged me feet. Hadn't I spent the last 6 years making a name for myself professionally? What would that name and effort mean now that that name wasn't going to be mine anymore?

I took a babystep towards the name change. Rather than making it official, I made it digital. I opened a new email account with my new so-called identity. Just to try it out I suppose. See what it felt like...

It wasn't painful, but it wasn't comfortable. Kind of like when you sleep over at a friends house and you forgot your bathing suit so they loan you one or at least loan you some shorts and a t-shirt. Even if they fit perfectly, you can help but be self conscious. That is kind of what it feels like when you first change your name.

On Facebook, I squished our names together into something new. Some amalgam of who I was and who I was supposed to be. That felt safer; becoming part of something  new versus becoming part of something that existed long before hubby and I ever were together.

I am sure part of the awkwardness of the name change comes from the lack of a close relationship between me and his family. Defining myself apart from them, I keep my strength and self confidence. Keeping my name, is keeping my guard in the us versus them scenario. It means I shouldn't be disappointed  or expect too much, because its not like they're MY family. They are HIS. But when you take on a name, you feel as though you SHOULD be closer and able to trust and rely on those people who share it. Its like the act turns a magnifying glass upon all the cracks and holes in your newly minted foundation together. Sure, you fell in love with your husband, and have built your lives together, but that doesn't mean, you've necessarily spent time falling in love or becoming one with his family. The name isn't only your husband, which would feel easier, the name is your husbands life, friends, family, history. The name is about you fitting or not fitting. Its about being plucked from your own family tree and tied to another. But if you are simply tied, how could you ever grow? There needs to be grafting and nurturing , but that takes time, and it takes both sides to try a little harder to create a bond.


Nonetheless, I meandered forward with my name change. I had put it off, in part, because my parents supposedly took home our wedding certificate. It was a destination wedding and was too impractical for Hubby and I to grab everything. My mom assured me she had it and for months I trusted she did.  Then I realized my window was closing. What window? Well if you had gotten a new passport within a year of getting married, they let you change your name free. Otherwise they charge you a million or so dollars no one has. So I made my way down to my parents house to pick up our marriage certificate, only to realize, while it was indeed a certificate, it was more like the kind you get in elementary school for good penmanship. The "Decorative" marriage certificate. God it was ugly.... and useless.

So now, with less than a month to accomplish my name change I had to strategically maneuver my schedule all about town so that I could have the documents needed at each venue in order to effectively change my name. It is NOT an easy task. Outside of the emotional struggle there is also the hour long waits at various government buildings. All of which want both ID and their personal copy of the marriage certificate and some of which keep them for 3+ weeks before they issue your ID and paperwork back. Its a hassle. And who has the time to run around to multiple government offices in LA?

After taking two half days off, my name is only half changed. I now get junk mail to a variety of name combinations. I have decided to keep both my name and his name. Using his name personally will bring us closer as a couple, but maintaining my name professionally will help me not lose my identity and progress in my field. Its an internal compromise for me that highlight the duality of my roles, but feels like a safety net too. I can pick and choose from day to day who I want to be.

I thought I was taking the transition well enough (it ony took 10 months for me to get this far) when tragedy (okay not so tragic) struck. I had fedexed my passport et al to the US passport office only to find out (after the week it took to arrive) that the office refuses to accept Fedex or UPS. Which, by the way, is INSANE, because who would want to mail sensitive legal identification documents in an insecure way? USPS has been known to lose more mail (in fact, 1/3 of our wedding invitation were lost by USPS) and costs a fortune if you want to mail something more securely and be able to track it. Hello identity theft! I was so livid, because when I asked the passport office what to do, they basically told me to go F-myself.  No they wouldn't help me, no they wouldn't provide me with an alternative way to send it, no they wouldn't put a note on my file if it arrives a day or two late because they REFUSED it when it arrived 2 weeks early. No they don't have a supervisor. No they don't have employee identification. No there isn't a way to contact someone directly. No they didn't TELL you your package would be refused on the paperwork with direction, but had you called BEFORE you had this problem because you were psychic, they we would have told you by phone that they only accept USPS. No, no no. The US government hates you and your new name.

And that, apparently was the straw that broke this camel. I ended up losing it this morning. Going into fits of sobbing, because it doesn't matter how good or reasonable or fastidious you try to be. You are going to get screwed eventually. And dealing with people who treat you terribly when all you want is some information on how to contact a courier, or where you can resend the document to so that you don't miss the deadline and owe the government ridiculous money for changing your name...Changing your name which is akin to open heart surgery. Changing your name which may mean losing who you are. Perhaps climbing onto a family tree where you are attached by scotch tape and staples. Yet, you don't really have control over any of it anymore.

So I cried. And my husband had to save me. Which makes me a wimp, and Fed Ex had to save me.

What the Wedding Books Don't Tell You...Part 1.

Last night I got a drunken text. I think it might actually have qualified as a booty call. It was from the number of someone I used to know, but admittedly, had not remembered and had not even bothered to plug into my current phone. I've had that phone a year. I politely tried to evade the subject, my standard tactic for unwanted attention, because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings but I do want to make it clear that my mind has no intention of going where there's just went. Think of it as the verbal equivalent of the innocent cartoon eye blink.

A normal person might have bowed out, but the response I received was of the NC17 variety, because maybe I've missed the first innuendo. My husband got a good laugh out of it at least.


Part of me thought that getting married was a way of branding yourself as "Off the Market." I thought that once you are married, you suddenly become some off limits old lady. That people would not look at you the same or that even if they did, they would chastise themselves for it.

Some of my facbook conversations and apparently text messages prove that propriety is out the window. My biggest issue is I love to flirt. I don't consider it flirting, or if I did, I did not consider that people would take it more than an innocent jest or compliment, but I am told that is what it is. Any witty statement, and flash of a smile, any playful jests, any passing compliment are indeed invitations for a romp at some later date. I apparently flirt with men and women and nowhere in my mind does that invitation exist. Plus, I don't particularly consider myself sexy. I like to think of myself as a buddy girl, so I imagine jokes would be taken at face value.  Did you know saying "that's what she said" is flirting? Did you know telling someone they look great is? Or even offer someone a smile and how are you? I love to flirt. I love to make people feel good or make people smile, and I don't answer compliments with "You know I'm married" because, lets face it, they DO know. The truth is people can see flirting in anything they WANT to see it in. Being nice, well that is simply inviting the chase.

I read an article today about how after getting married, the average woman flirts more. Psychologically speaking, flirting is a form of self validation, because, like me, many women assume that their desirability to the outside world somehow is flushed away with their wedding vows. Flirting is a way to remind themselves that even though they are now a wife, people still find her attractive, interesting, and well a catch. I can't say I haven't fallen prey to this either.

And lets face it, I was an actor, so I can't say I don't like the attention either.

In modern society there is apparently no such thing as a commitment. I guess with the prevalence of divorce, people are placing their bids early at your next go around. This is, of course, sarcasm, as I am deeply in love with my husband.

The people who, prior to getting married, all told me NOT to do it, that it would break their heart, have apparently found their heart heals up okay and have circled round again. Their game is laid on thick, considering I am 100% off the market. I don't know what they think? I assume it is that now if I give in, they don't have to worry about it getting too serious as I'd simply be in it for fun and go home to my husband? Gross.  Lets put this in perspective. I have been married 10 months and have been told by no less than 5 people that if I ever want to...

So guess what? A wedding ring is not the deterrent it once was. There are still a few that chastise themselves for flirting with a married woman. And its funny, because so many of my (supposedly platonic) male friendships have shifted since I've wed. I never assumed that people had intentions, but apparently I was mistaken. Some have flat out said that they can't be friends with me because I'm married now. How weird is that?

Thankfully, my husband is absolutely not the jealous type. Part of that is that I keep him "in on the joke." I confide everything to him so he knows there is nothing to worry about. "I mean, when I was in grad school he got to endure first hand the drunken ramblings of a friend who "f-ing hated him. I mean hate hate. But you're a good guy and we're cool. But I hate you too."  He just finds these things funny and sad. Plus, my husband is the most likeable guy in the world, so the best way to dissuade an over-amorous friend from chasing me, is to let them know my husband. Then suddenly they feel bad about wanting more than friendship with me.

My husband knows where we stand, and he's incredibly confident with where we are. I also tease him because when we first moved from friendquantances to a potential couple he had said to me (also drunkenly I might add) "I will like you as long as someone else does too" (People say the most interesting things with a little liquid courage).  He still kicks himself for that priceless gem, but I find it hilarious and love to remind him of it when we are surprised with the occasion drunken text of a former "might be."

I think being flirty has always been part of my personality, and I am not willing to change who I fundamentally am because other people don't know where to draw the line for themselves. As long as my husband trusts me, and I trust him, and we keep an open line of communication, I don't think change is necessary.

PS this was at Ailyn's wedding

I guess these "might have beens" are helpful to us too, because they remind both he and I how lucky we got to have each other. I find myself more and more in love as our time together progresses. More confident, more lucky, more happy that I don't have to venture out into the world without him by my side.

Smotherly Love

I am very close to my family. Some people may call that the ethnic in me, but I hold the relationship with my parents and siblings high on my priority list. Most times this benefits me. I feel I've grown a lot and am stronger for my close ties to them. I've even rubbed off on my husband, who is getting a reputation for being the thoughtful one of his brothers. I think how someone treats their family, the good and the bad of them, reflects a lot on how they will treat their spouse and even more on who they fundamentally are as a person. This extends to extended family and close friends as well.

However....

I'm beginning to feel a bit smothered. Is it just me or was there more opportunity to check out of family obligations prior to the "I do"? I don't begrudge every event, family get together, or family crisis, but lately I feel like dough that has been rolled out too thin. I can't remember the last weekend the husband and I have had to ourselves. This puts life into great perspective when I think of how bored I was as a kid when my parents didn't want to do anything "fun" over the weekends. Gosh, they must have been exhausted!

I feel like I am being run around in circles, between work and obligations, I am pretty sure I only see my husband in bed or when one or both of us is too sick to make other plans. I would like to spend weekends on just us, but inevitably,  someone will expect us over and we'll feel guilty if we put ourselves first.

Add to this my sister has been living with us, which is great and helpful, but sometimes suffocating. She has a tendency to run the house as if it were her own... Literally reprimanding me for whatever I do that doesn't meet her liking. I mean, its still my home right?

And my mom is already planning our anniversary? Not like a party, but like a family vacation. And its weird. Because, in my mind, I feel our anniversary should be a private time about us as a couple, not a big public event. I feel like I'm selfish if I want to just do something nice with the husband and I, but I also feel annoyed that we don't even get THIS day for ourselves.

Of course, one of the things I am super jealous of is not having a day for myself, I figured our anniversary can be this. My birthday is Christmas Eve, which invariably sucks because it typically means I am forgotten or that everyone is too busy to make me more than an afterthought. I figured our anniversary could be about what Hubs and I want, and we get the feel special. And while I would love a family vacation, one on our anniversary isn't about us much, is it?


The cherry on top, if you remember my taxes post, is that we want to get a house. I need my own space, and I don't want to settle for a place that doesn't fit us. So added to my brother's advice of getting a place in a less nice area is my in-laws advice and sales pitch of buying a house in the mountains (3-4 hours from work) that we can use sometimes on the weekends and the rest of the family can use when we're not.... Did I hear that right? Because this is like asking us to buy a vacation home for the family rather than-- yet again-- taking care of us.

I know what a chicken with its head cut off feels like.  So how do you learn to say no? How do you reconcile your needs with wanting to be nice and accommodating? This is my current journey.

Step 1, I am making 100 days about myself. In the next 100 days, I am going to focus on my husband and my wants and needs as a priority.  Its already a daunting task because neither of us like to disappoint anyone. So why do we keep allowing us to disregard ourselves?