Brown Side Up Club

i'm back in the ocean-blue room in the library. i have now thoroughly explored the building, and i still think this is my favorite spot. i watched the clouds roll in this afternoon while reading an article. it's rather ugly out to be honest...and just cold enough that there is condensation forming around the edges of the windows. foggy...not frosty yet.

after finishing two papers yesterday, i rearranged my living room. it was far more satisfying than ought to be possible. i wish we had a christmas tree or at least some christmas decor, because right now i just have a couple of knit stockings to put up and a snowman candle. i take that back...the nativity set is out. i think one of these days i'm going to sneak out to lowes to get some lights. paul doesn't seem to object to things if they're already in his home. i just can't talk him into letting me buy them if he's with me at the store.

operation: find two barstools. i finally have things arranged in such a manner that we can use the raised counter as a breakfast area. should be fun with some placemats and such.

even with all of this talk about spending, i'm still paranoid about finances. right now, i have enough money to pay for this year of schooling. after that, though, paul and I will be pulling from our savings...a thing that doesn't get much attention. we're discussing whether or not to get the internet in our apartment (a deal right now for $30 a month)...which is easily a plane ticket's worth in half a year. this isn't a hypothetical plane ticket either. with ashley getting married, i'm going to have to find a flight to san diego sometime in the next several months. there just doesn't seem to be any concept of long-term saving for big plans (such as travel, educations, or eventually a home). i really wish i had separate savings accounts for designated things, so it wouldn't look like one big pool of money that has no purpose or that could be used for anything. we'll see. maybe i'm just paranoid.

I seem to have found interest in the self-help section of the library of late. I recently finished His Needs, Her Needs: Building an affair-proof marriage. It was written by a Christian psychologist who does most of his work in couples counseling. I haven’t really given much thought about doing marriage and family counseling, but I figure the guy could have useful things to say about my own marriage. It’s certainly an interesting read while I’m studying family systems theory and feminist theory.

He listed women’s 5 most common emotional needs in order of importance:
1. Affection
2. Conversation
3. Honesty and Openness
4. Financial Support
5. Family Commitment

The author then listed the 5 most typical emotional needs as rated by men:
1. Sex
2. Recreational Companionship
3. Attractiveness of Spouse
4. Domestic Support
5. Admiration

These obviously vary from person to person. I won’t lie. I almost put down the book when I got to the sections about how wives need to care about being attractive and about providing domestic support. It made me so angry that someone would imply that it’s okay for most women to regularly do at least double the house work of their husbands, often while working a full time job, and parenting…and that they should simply be happy to meet their husband’s need. Authors like this also contribute to the horrible binge dieting and self-image destruction of women around the world…like you can’t be happy unless your husband is utterly pleased and titillated by your presence. Fuck that.

I’m not upset because of anything Paul has done. The man has never said a word about my appearance and doesn’t seem to protest when I avoid shaving my legs for days…weeks…etc. He also appreciates the cleaning that I do even though I typically hate every minute of it. I am just so unnerved by the encouragement of rigid gender roles, especially in relationships. Do women have the right to get angry when their husband gets a beer gut? There is nothing in this book that helps create an appreciation of the opposite’s emotional needs. The message is that you simply have to meet them, or you’re doomed to have your spouse wander into an extramarital affair. Paul should have run off with a busty frisbee-playing, sex-crazed housewife years ago. I’ll soon be finding myself in bed with a rich gay man.

This is not to say that the fundamental differences in emotional needs within a relationship is not important. I wholly agree that it’s essential to recognize that your husband might not care about the same things as you…or at least not at the same level. I just can’t get on board with the scare-tactic that failure to do so will ultimately lead to an affair and a marriage in disrepair. In counseling, we call this catastrophizing--running down the bunny trail of the worst possible scenario. When people start to focus on such things, their whole world turns into a breeding ground for irrational thinking.
Maybe if I would have breast-fed my children, they would have gotten in to Harvard.
I think my husband is becoming an alcoholic; he never drinks before dinner.
Maybe we should just stay in. I saw a car accident on the news yesterday, and we just can’t afford to have something like that happen.

On a positive note, this book reminded me that Paul probably doesn’t share my need for company. I like to talk. I blame this on personality…extraversion…but it’s partially socialized into me as well. I think Paul would be totally fine if we didn’t speak one word to each other after he got home from work. I’m being completely honest. He only speaks when I ask my sea of questions because I’m so starved for attention after being home alone all day. I always assumed that everyone needs to talk. Paul does not. Not even a little.

He probably thinks I’m crazy for wanting conversation. Just as crazy as I think he is for expecting me to enjoy playing frisbee with him.

…leading me to another complaint about this book. The author says that a husband and wife should not have separate recreational activities. They should sacrifice anything the other does not enjoy. I think I’d be seriously concerned if Paul started taking up scrap-booking. I’d also be angry that he was wasting my paper. He’d be equally alarmed if I watched anime out of my own volition. I like that we have different interests. Yes, I am easily frustrated by Paul being gone for long periods of time playing frisbee, but I like that it’s something that he’ll talk about. There are few times when he will willingly engage in conversation, and frisbee is one of those fail-proof topics.

It all feels like a big prescription. Do this, don’t do that, and you’re destined to have a sizzling marriage. Maybe I’m just particularly miserable, but I don’t think it works quite like that.

How does it work? Hell if I know. Hence my disinterest in marriage and family counseling.

after three days of disgusting water sitting in my sink, the repair man finally came. i had been hiding out in my bedroom for those days to avoid the smell. it's nice to have free reign of the apartment again. paul and i decided to give the maintenance guys a pie to say thanks.

class tonight was actually fun and a little bit challenging. we were critiquing an article (co-written by our professor) on a literacy program for nonverbal students with moderate to severe learning disabilities. i am by no means a special ed major, so the topic had me rattled. it was funny to realize that i liked picking it apart, while everyone else saw it as a chore. research articles feel like a puzzle to me...something with tons of little pieces to be figured out, and there is so much satisfaction when you reach an "ah ha!" moment that they've done something wrong or missed some kind of extraneous variable. this pleasure is multiplied by having a moment in front of the author of said article and getting to challenge them on it.

babe, we both had
dry spells
hard times
and bad lands

i am officially weaned from coffee. it gives me the jitters again. i can no longer drink a grande anything. it feels good not to be dependent on a substance, but at the same time, i miss the action of drinking coffee...the smell of a pot always brewing...the comfort of a warm mug of the stuff in the mornings...the joy of sharing it with others. i think paul not liking coffee has taken away a bit of the experience for me. there's no one to share it with, and we have goood coffee. i almost feel like i'm wasting it by making some only for myself.

i've officially killed my kitchen sink. apparently the disposal couldn't handle all of those potato skins. and...now it won't drain to save my life...and it's leaking a bit underneath. i feel like this is beyond the ability of drano.

i seem to have recovered from that stomach bug.  it was a one-night affair, so i'm guessing food-related.  perhaps that will teach me not to lick the batter bowl.

life is a little sad at the moment.  well...really sad.  paul and i picked out a kitten at a rescue shelter only to find out that our apartment complex has some clause against kittens that is not stated in our lease.  all cats apparently have to be de-clawed as well...which is just awful and cruel.  i wish someone had told this before we picked a cat, named it Harvey, and did all of the paperwork to get it.

little Harvey will have to find a new home.  and it makes me sad, because his name at the shelter is Union.  pathetic name for a cat with an adorable white mustache.  someone out there will adopt him and call him Union for the rest of his life.  i hope he knows he's really a Harvey.

what's even sadder is that i won't be able to get a kitten until we move, which at the earliest, could be next july, but preferably 3 years from now.

i baked a chocolate cake to ease the pain.  i had chocolate cake for breakfast without regret, thanks to bill cosby.  and today i watched Up, which was just released on dvd.  cute.  sweet.  made me miss grandpa.

it's blustery outside.  very pooh-bear-esque.

i've considered picking up a copy of the terrible horrible no good very bad day...or whatever it's called.

and i will pout.

well, i spent most of friday night laying on the bathroom floor.  i tend to spent intimate time in the bathroom when i'm upset...particularly in the empty bathtub.  i like how the tub feels cold when i'm worked up about something.  the floor is the same way.

unfortunately this time, i was spending time in the bathroom because i was unable to leave the toilet's side.  there really is nothing like vomiting for most of the night.  usually after the first bout, i assume that it's over.  i've gotten it out.  i have about 10 minutes of relief.  then the next wave comes...and i know i'm in for the long haul.

trying to catch up on sleep still.

soups from scratch accomplished this fall:

vegetable
beef vegetable
three bean chili
french onion  (good god....this  one was the hardest)
corn/bell pepper/potato chowder
butternut squash--carrot


soups left to try:

cold cucumber
lentil

i just had an adviser meeting.  we mapped out the next three years of my life.  holy crapoli.  i never did that with my undergrad...just played things by ear as i went.  oh no.  we have every last credit planned out.

and i like it because

1.) it makes me feel organized
2.) it means i don't have to figure out what classes i'm taking for the rest of my career
3.) there is an end in sight.

hurrah.  i feel like a beer.  unfortunately, i'm on campus, and the nearest bar is a good half hour walk away...and i have class this evening.  perhaps i should wander to the dorms and pretend to be friends with someone to get in their fridge.  eh?

i'm not that desperate

or psychotic.

at least, i don't think so.

I just watched Jesus Camp.

sigh.

never bearing children.  i'll adopt them at 15.

i think there was a time when i used this blog to write personal things.  i wrote about being in love.  i wrote about heartbreak.  i wrote about genuine loss.  i wrote about magical success.  i wrote about the most mundane things in my life...but at least they were honest. 

i was due to get my period just after the honeymoon.  when it didn't come and didn't come, i fussed over worry of possibly being pregnant somehow even though i religiously pop that magical white pill at every noon.  paul had had enough of my whining and came home one evening with a pregnancy test.  i scurried into the bathroom, ripped open the package, and peed on that stick.  i must say, i admire the technological advances that pregnancy tests have experienced.  this little sucker was fully digital with an hourglass screen telling me that it was working and that i hadn't peed too much on it

not pregnant.

i still hadn't gotten a period about three weeks later, and out of fear that i had done the first one too soon, i tore open the second test that came in the package and stared at that little hourglass again.

not pregnant.

my period decided to come and be friends right in time for Bitz's wedding.  I got a lovely 2 hours of sleep that night and had the joy of spending the day in a dress with my hair all done up and high heels on.while my uterus decided to send its love.  i undoubtedly overdosed on ibuprofen that day.  what's worse was that paul had tonsillitis, so we were a miserable pair.  i didn't feel much like dancing...or doing anything for that matter...but being a bridesmaid means that you are somehow obligated to look like you are having the time of your life.

my period has mysteriously disappeared again.  i'm either currently bloated, getting fat, or i'm pregnant.  the last of the three is the least likely, but it seems to be option that my brain chooses to fixate upon for the majority of the time.

my worrying is interrupted by the wandering salesmen who frequent my apartment complex.  wandering salesmen = arched nemesis.  most of them are selling coupon books for some sort of charity, or i had one that was selling a membership for some rewards programs for letting a company track your grocery purchases.  tempting...really...but i'm poor, and i don't have the $30 for your charity.  really...i don't.  they all seem to laugh when i make mention that i never have cash.  i've taken to paying them off in quarters to leave me alone.  i'm horrible at saying no.  even if they pocket the $1.50 in change that i forked over, that's on them.

paul gets a little violent when he abruptly decides that he wants to do laundry and there are not enough quarters somehow.  "where did they go?" he always says with his hands on his hips.  i mumble confusedly and pretend not to know.  i need to start keeping rolls of pennies around for the salesmen.  maybe they'll pass around a little message in the wandering salesmen community not to bother the crazy, penny-giving hag in 822.

and then i remember that i'm feeling fat, and my brain goes back to baby worries.  suddenly i don't care about becoming some kind of flagged famous customer in the door-to-door scene.  really, i'm sure that most of this could be fixed with an appointment to the gyno and perhaps a new birth control prescription.  i mean, the placebo effect alone should take care of it.  id be back to bleeding and miserable in a second.

So, I've had a semi-bucket list going for quite some time.  I think it might need some updating.  When I created this as an adolescent, it included a make-out list...which is now seemingly impossible to complete.  I'm fairly certain that I would offend Paul if I made out with a gay person, a drunk, a foreign accent, or a complete stranger.  Sigh...I must have thought myself a promiscuous person at the ripe age of 14.  It became my goal to knock off the entire make out list while I was in Australia, preferably in one person--an Aussie drunken gay stranger--but we had a scheduled field trip during Sydney's Marti Gras celebration.  Before I knew it, I was married.

The new amended bucket list.

1. Ride a camel in a desert.  It should have bells.
2. Go hot-air ballooning.
3. Learn to play the entire Claire de Lune on piano. (I have two pages complete so far.)
4. Experience Oktoberfest in Germany.
5. Spend a day pool-crashing at hotels.  X
6. Own a bassoon.
7. Play with a penguin.
8. Teach a class.
9. Drive across the country without a schedule.
10. Send "get well" balloons to at least one funeral.
11. Go bungee jumping in New Zealand.
12. Shoot a gun.  X
13. Learn how to sail. Sail a fjord in Norway.
14. Get published.
15. Go scuba diving (not in a pool).  X

I know bucket lists are usually like 100 things to complete.  I guess I'm trying to be realistic...I'll be really lucky to get to do half of these things, mostly because they require at least one of the following:  A.) free time  B.) lots of money  C.) freakish luck.

the library is humming today.  lots of chitter chatter for a quiet place.  must be the rain...drove everyone inside.

the particular place i'm sitting smells like mcdonalds french fries.  i feel like people are judging me.

and for some reason...my itunes decided to show me all of the other libraries on the network, so i'm listening to some crazy hip hop.  this person's library only has 4 full albums (daft punk, ice cube, wu-tang, and nas) and the rest is just a huge hodgpodge of party music.  they're even dedicated to rating all of their music...but only with 1, 3, or 5 stars. 

impressed.

.
i think i have effectively managed to waste an entire day.
and i'm craving mustard.  what's up with that?

usually my cravings are for something with nutritional value.  when i'm low on iron/protein, i crave a hamburger...which is an unusual day, as i am typically a non-meat eater.  sometimes i crave really fatty food...most times when i've lost weight or have been sick.  perhaps my body needs some at those points.

but mustard?  really?

today, i want to wake up to cold hard wood floors
a shower that takes 10 minutes to warm up
a pair of ugly boots with the tongues folded down
a heater that sounds like a tea kettle

i want to go for a walk with my headphones jammed in my ears
to wait for a train on a platform where a stranger that i met on the bus approaches me
taking a ride that forces me to turn up my headphones to make out the sounds coming from them
while i read the crumpled red eye left in the seat from the morning commuters and try to finish the crossword

i want the sound of that stupid voice that announces "doors closing"
the distinct smell of transferring to the red line
the blinding light of emerging from underground
the blaring horns of angry cab drivers

i want coffee that i know will be good
buses that i can track online
drunken cubs fans
festivals in the square that smell like beer and sausage

i want burger nights even thought i don't eat meat
a loud and crass southerner
to ride to work with a drunken co-worker
to raise plants from seeds

i want to free-hand a human sized shoots and ladders
to do a paint by number mural
to hear finna everyday
to have friends to go out with on halloween

i want cats that follow you for blocks
3-floor thrift stores
chai tea stuffed french toast
falafel stuffed in pita with cucumber salad, lentil soup, and turkish coffee

i don't want it to be a visit
i don't want it a return to mecca
i want it to be normal
and i want to take it for granted

good grief.  i think i have more grammatical pet peeves than anything else.  i purposely violate them on occasion because it's liberating in a way.

"they'll" is a contraction for "they will", my dear friends and grammatical violators. 

"they'll" is not a contraction for "there will"

"I don't know if they'll be time to do that."  ug.

paul shaved his head the other day.  i'm not talking bic short...but to that really short spiky length that shows all of the weird bumps and patches on your head.  i don't like his hair short, and i informed him that he should never cut his hair shorter than the length of his eyebrows.

what does he do?

he gets out the trimmer, and trims his eyebrows.

i can't win.

so, sushi has become one of my comfort foods.  there is not much that can make me happier than a good philly roll.  so i'm reading this article on the top 5 foods that give you parasites.  sushi was #4, with raw salmon being the friend of tapeworms. 

maybe there is a reason i'm skinny.

a small arrangement of things that have brought me joy.  i am a sick person.

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/32665106/ns/today-today_food_and_wine/
Heart Attack.

http://www.uniquedaily.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/real-american-beauty.jpg
Parody.

http://www.wired.com/culture/education/magazine/17-09/st_sinmaps
Geography.

http://regretfulmorning.com/2009/02/12-banned-condom-commercials/
Contraception.

i'm sitting in the library in some round two-story end room that's painted this brilliant shade of ocean blue.  i'm sure someone can see down my shirt right now.  it's the only place i can find with intensely bright lighting.  it's a happy place.  i think i might make it my "usual."  you can peer across to the coffee shop which is mostly empty due to the opening of the new student union building and a starbucks.  i tried the cappucino twice (figuring the barista could be an extraneous variable).  it's bad.  like, straight up not enjoyable.  i need to find a yummy cafe where i can go and study and spend my "discretionary spending" money on good cappucino.  no point in wasting. 

i studder when introducing myself.  i've gotten so used to "bruck" that i have to fish for the sound to start "sarah" when meeting people.  i have to pretend that everyone is family, because that's pretty much the only context that everyone calls me sarah.

apparently north carolina has some outrageous statistic on people getting hit by lightning.  people here talk about it like it's an everyday thing.  this concerns me a bit, because it's not totally instinct for me to dash inside with an approaching storm.  my professor was talking about how her friend's car got hit by lightning four times while crossing one bridge.  i wonder what that feels like.  i'm sure it's a strange sensation.  i've been told that your arm hairs will stick up just before it happens.

paul has the entire blind pilot album except one song...the one i like the most.  hm.

i got in the car today and one of the warning lights was on in the dash.  paul didn't seem phased by it.  apparently it had come on last night. but like my usual self, i dropped him off and drove straight back home to look it up in the manual.  why was the manual at home and not in the car?  I have no clue, but thank goodness paul's mom sent it in the mail yesterday.  so i read the light's warning.

"low tire pressure indicator"
--pull over immediately and check the pressure in each of the tires
--warning:  low tire pressure is the number one cause of blow-out which can result in serious car accidents. 

so, after discovering that the car care center at my apartment complex doesn't have an air compressor, i drove to the nearest gas station.  i stepped out of the car in my little white sun dress, and desperately tried to figure out how to work the gauge on that blasted air pump.  luckily, some complete stranger offered to help me out, and adjusted all of my tires for me.  i must have looked like a damsel in distress.

thank goodness for strangers.  perhaps i shouldn't make fun of the fact that southerners like to make small talk with strangers.