Husband Clothes

I had the most interesting flashback this morning while taking my morning walk. I stopped off to get a free city paper, and while still walking, I opened it up to see if there’s a nice, juicy classifieds section. (I’m not looking for anything–I just love classifieds.)

Flashback to the year 1997. I was sitting at my Dad’s  kitchen table, reading coffee, reading the classified section. Background: I had moved in with my Dad about 2 months prior to this, upon returning from a 3-year stay in Moscow, Russia. (One day I should post about that. Wild times. Anyway, my Dad wanted me to get a good job in the US–rather than going to another country to live, which I almost did, long story–so he let me stay there for free. And my Stepmom did too. So kind.)

Anyway, I’d never lived in the area where my Dad lives. So things felt lonely. The only people I could potentially do things with were coworkers (nearly all of my coworkers were guys) who asked me to go to lunch or happy hour, or acquaintances from college who lived in town. There was no way I was going to go to happy hour with male coworkers. I did that in Moscow and caused HUGE issues. I later learned that to many Russian males, happy hour, dinner, or even lunch qualifies as a DATE. So apparently, I DATED about 5 coworkers simultaneously. SO SORRY I didn’t realize that.

Anyway, due to loneliness when back in the US, I loved looking through the classified section of the Saturday newspaper. It listed all of the activities going on in town over the weekend–cultural activities (my favorite), hobby-related things, live bands and where they were scheduled to play, and so on. Of course, I never went to any–no one to go with.

Well, one morning I saw an ad about a “Russian festival.” Basically it was a Russian cultural event–a little gathering where people could buy Russian food, Russian books, Russian CD’s, and so on. I really wanted to go–but no one to go with…Then, out of the blue, one of my acquaintances called me and invited me to go with her to that very Russian festival. That worked out nicely.

At this point, you may be thinking that I am really pathetic to have flashbacks about classified ads. But wait–there’s more to this ad than meets the eye!!!

So this girl and I go to the event. We sat at a random table to eat lunch. There was this somewhat psycho guy talking to us. He was asking me where I went to church, and then, kept insisting that I should attend church regularly–that was kind of alarming. Also awkward was the fact that I sat right beside a cute guy. I kept feeling like he might think I sat there in order to meet him, but really it was because there were no other seats.

I kept wondering if the cute guy noticed that the psycho guy was lecturing me about church. And, if so, what kind of impression this made on him. I later learned all kinds of things about both the psycho guy and the cute guy. Guess why. That’s because the cute guy ended up being my husband. And after that festival, times were no longer lonely. (But hard in many other ways, and wonderful in many ways.)

PS. My husband isn’t Russian. I wish I could tell you what country he’s from, but it’s so small that if ONE person from there saw this blog, everyone in the entire country would immediately learn about it through the grapevine, including my mother-in-law. It would not behoove my marriage for her to see my stories about her–though they are all her own wicked fault.

Remember that wonderful song “Killing Me Softly” (not the original, rather the AWESOME remake of it by the Fugees in the late 90’s)? That’s one of the songs I sing aloud sometimes when I am taking my daily walks. It’s very embarrassing when people unexpectedly walk up behind me because I sing this song LOUDLY. It can’t be helped–the song is too soulful to sing quietly.

I thought of this song because lately, I am constantly repeating the words “He’s KILLING me” to myself. I think we all know exactly who I mean when I say that.

Last night, he actually DID almost kill me. He barbecued again. And let me tell you–he is trying hard to convince me that he only used “lighter fluid” and “not too much” of it at that. But that substance could not possibly be lighter fluid.

I was innocently using my computer in my room–it is very far from the backyard, which begs the question “How could a substance possibly travel so far ‘by accident’ if you get my drift…And suddenly my lungs felt like they were coated with something radioactive or VERY abrasive…like acid. Then I started coughing and couldn’t stop. I thought I was going to have to call 911!!! Today my throat STILL feels like it’s coated in acid.

I sincerely hope no one within a mile radius of our apartment has asthma or any kind of allergies to any chemicals. Because if they do, they could have been harmed. I’m surprised no one called the fire department. I would have thought this was a dirty bomb if I didn’t know it was coming from a grill in my backyard. I am SO embarrassed. But again, this could just all be a big cover up. A cover up to kill me. And it’s working.

Other ways he’s killing me but not softly:

1. He accepted an offer for an upcoming project that is 3 hours away. AGAIN. But guess what. This time it will last for much longer than last time. YAY. No need for him to come back. I’ll be dead, and the children will be living with my sister. Because I can handle a lot, but a newborn, a toddler, a 2nd grader, and a job (but no husband)–that’s gettin’ sketchy folks.
2. He has no project right now–5 weeks till the 3-hour away one. BUT he’s being ALL picky about what salary he needs to take a project now. Doesn’t that sound FUN? I’m like, “Hi. Is the offer you just got more than ZERO dollars? Because ZERO is what you’re getting paid right now.” I realize that was mean. But accurate nevertheless.
3. He’s staying up till about 3:30am every night (or perhaps I should say every morning). It’s driving me insane. I’ve never felt we must go to bed at EXACTLY the same time. However, at the very least, can we keep our bed times on par with humans, rather than bats, owls, and bugs?
4. Obviously as a follow-up to #3, he’s rolling out of bed at some ridiculously late hours. I’m so annoyed right now that I ignore him at all times regardless, but give me a break. Getting up at 1:00 in the afternoon is for college kids, not grown men with families. Am I right, or am I right?????

I might add items to this list as the days go by. Since it doesn’t appear he’ll be taking a project anytime soon (and will therefore be home 24/7), I assume the list will grow a great deal over the next 5 weeks.

Hello All! I’m so happy. My husband is finally home after 3 weeks. Not surprisingly, we’ve had some embarrassing incidents in the past few days. The MOST embarrassing of all was our grilling “fun” that took place on Saturday.

I’m going to let you know right off the bat that the FOOD was MUY DELICIOSA. I mean, we are talking meat so soft it had the texture of fine bread. Perfect marianade. Perfect taste. Perfect vegetables as well. My husband was the lone chef.

Brief aside: I didn’t lie in the many prior posts when I said he hadn’t cooked a meal for the family in 9 years. That was all true. But recently he took up a sudden interest in grilling, and he has now cooked for the family 3 times. Yep, 3 entire times in 9 years. Let’s do the math. This means that my husband has cooked approximately 1/3 of a meal each year for 9 years. HAHAHAHAHAH. I’m so funny…

ANYWAY. The grilling is marvelous, except one thing. Let me describe my concern by comparing this grilling experience to the times my neighbors grill. Every time my neighbors grill, I notice a succulent scent that makes me feel like I’m floating toward the grilling food, like Sylvester the Cat in the old Looney Tunes cartoons. But when my husband grills, the smell is smoky. As is the view. I’m talking, I can kind of discern a thin layer of smoke in the air around my room, plus I feel that I need to cough.

Now granted, my apartment is a shoebox, so the bathroom window isn’t all that far from my bedroom. But I also noticed that all of my neighbors had closed their windows because when we were eating the grilled food outside after my husband finished preparing it, one by one, our neighbors peeped out at us, then opened their windows quietly. I almost felt that they were saying “Okay everyone, the coast is clear [of heavy smoke]. If he’s eating, he must be done grilling.”

There’s no way you can know for certain how much smoke was in the air–I can only tell you that it concerned me that my baby wasn’t wearing a gas mask. QUESTION: Is this normal? When I went down panicking about it, my husband said, “Oh Holly, leave this to the expert. [He meant himself. Please.] EVERYONE makes this kind of smoke when they grill.” Is this true? Do the neighbors think this is fine–that we are effectively smoking them out of the clean outdoors and forcing them to shut their windows and stuff??? Please inform.

This was a somewhat traumatic day. First day of the new school year. My poor son was soooo nervous. When he gets nervous about things, he sometimes has nightmares. So last night he kept saying “Boy I’m nervous. I hope I don’t have a nightmare.” We talked about it, and I kept trying to get him to visualize playtime (sorry so geeky), as his best friend is in the class–I thought this would help. Apparently it did because no nightmares.

We got to school on time today and didn’t even have to run! I had the baby in a baby carrier. I was dressed up nicely, tidy little hairstyle, looking all ready for our big “baby debut.” I thought I’d see all of our friends and familiar teachers from last year. However, I didn’t see a single friend! BUT guess who was the FIRST person I noticed as we entered the school yard…Hot Dad. Not A hot dad. THE Hot Dad.

Yes. Hot Dad from last year. The one I secretly loved. This Dad and I have never spoken, but we have chemistry. I can tell because we do that accidental staring at each other thing all the time, then look down at the ground really fast when the other one notices.  But not to worry. As you all know, I am very faithful and dedicated to my husband. So my little crush-from-afar on Hot Dad will definitely never lead anywhere–even to a conversation. And I maintain a distance of at LEAST 15 feet from him at all times. When we drift too close, I walk away. (Oh, it is probably important to note that Hot Dad looks almost identical to my husband.)

By the way, should today be one of those off days when my husband reads my blog, I’m not sure how he’ll feel about Hot Dad. He’s not what I’d call the jealous type. BUT, if a man called me, he’d definitely ask who it is. And we don’t have one of those marriages where he or I have casual lunches with the opposite sex. My husband wouldn’t get that. A group of coworkers together, sure. Me and one male coworker–oh heavens no. But why would I want to have lunch with one male coworker? Unless I loved him. hahahahhahaha. (That’s what my husband would think.)

Oh, I just realized, doesn’t that one-on-one forbidden coworker lunch kind of make my husband the jealous type? Hm. Good to learn. Oh sorry, this post is going nowhere fast. Let me summarize the points and be done with this topic, which is making me feel nervous and confused:

1) I saw Hot Dad at school today. He looked hot.

2) I will never, ever talk to Hot Dad–and I’m not sure why that is. I just don’t want to.

3) Since I just discovered that my husband is probably the jealous type, it might not be ideal for him to see this post. However, I will leave it up, as this could help me learn more about my husband. Probably, I will learn that he never reads my blog.

4) As always, Hot Dad and I had no contact whatsoever. But he did look very cute, and for some reason, this made me happy.

I am thrilled that my husband is finally wearing summer clothes–he hasn’t worn a T-shirt for 9 years of marriage (until this summer, per previous postings). Now he wears T-shirts all the time. Well, he wears ONE T-shirt all the time, despite having purchased oh, 10 or 15 new T-shirts for himself over the past year. But hey, I’m just thankful it’s not the usual sweatshirt or turtle neck he usually wears in the summer. Too embarrassing.

BUT he is wearing the T-shirt with sweatpant like things. They are the thin, somewhat shiny material sweatpants with stripes down the side–I can’t remember the precise term for them, but there is one, and usually people laugh when they say it. But that’s okay. Also, the T-shirt is black, and the sweatpant things are dark blue with white stripes. Why his master’s degree in fine arts didn’t result in better color coordination, I would like to ask. Perhaps someone out there has some ideas?

But after 9 years of looking at these clothing shortcomings, I am pretty sure I am not fooling myself when I say, it doesn’t even bother me anymore. Wanna wear black and blue together? Wanna wear sweatpants in the summer? Oh, somewhat off topic, wanna have a full, very full might I add, beard and shave your head bald as you did today? Also off topic, don’t mind that long hair that is sticking out of your nose? Be my guest. I no longer notice details like these, except perhaps the nose hair. Whatever. He’ll cut it eventually. Fortunately, my husband has beautiful dark, mysterious eyes, a hot jawline, and a very pleasant build–I try to focus on these things.

OH, but back to my story. His dark blue sweatpants somehow ended up with a kid’s white sticker thing stuck to the butt. I pointed out the sticker to him, and he pulled it off. It left a huge patch of semi-transparent white sticker residue. So, in short, there’s a white spot on the butt of these pants.

To make matters worse, these are “the pants of the month” (meaning he wears them each day for about a month). He keeps wearing them every day. I finally reminded him that there’s a white spot on the butt, and it’s really visible.

His response, “Oh I know. No one cares about that.” And then he just keeps wearing the pants. To work, to stores, wherever he wants to go.

Take a look at this. It WAS a normal, plastic fork. Until my husband needed to use it for something other than eating.

No, he did not use the fork to give people the bird. He used it for something slightly stranger and grosser. My husband has made MANY inventions for the same purpose. When we were first married, they scared me. I would find them lying around the house and be like “Oh my GOSH, GROSS. How can I stop this?” Then finally he began doing even grosser things, and this particular type of invention no longer phased/phases me.

So, I was trying to give you a chance to guess what it’s used for before telling you. Here’s the answer: picking his teeth. You know, like a toothpick. A few questions come to mind–foremost, why not just get a toothpick? As I said, he makes toothpicks out of many household items. My favorite way he makes toothpicks is when he rips up papers from my desk–occasionally important ones–and rolls them up very tightly. These things look like actual toothpicks. (But that doesn’t make it okay.) Then of course, he likes to leave the “toothpicks” sitting around everywhere.

My story is done, but there are a few afterthoughts that amused me. Kind of funny: As I was photographing the fork, my husband came in our room. His eyes got big for one moment, then he started laughing from pride that his invention would be “shown off” on the Internet. Also, I am not good at using “my” camera yet (i.e., the camera HE wanted for himself and therefore got me for “my birthday” 1.5 months late). So, after laughing aloud for a few seconds, he said in all seriousness, “You’re not doing this right. For close-up photos, you have to…” then showed me a button to push, then took a perfect photo of the fork.

I just have one question: how did he bend, rather than break, that piece of the fork? Also, what are those pieces called? I’ll ask him how he did that–it almost makes the invention impressive…Well, not really, but I tried to bend one of the prongs (or whatever they are called), and it just broke off.

My husband has lived in the US for 12 years. Now, he used to do LOTS of embarrassing, sometimes dangerous, things due to not being from here. For example, has your husband ever WALKED through a drive-thru bank ATM or McDonald’s drive-thru? Mine has. And it freaked people out big-time. Has your husband ever asked a manager at a company to help him fill out a job application for a position at that company? No? Oh, mine has. This is only the beginning.

That said, he’s come a long way. Mostly he acts like any other guy (I mean, like any other guy who’s a little odd). But every once in a while, he reverts back to his original self and does stuff that would be considered very normal in his country and very…um puzzling, to put it mildly…in ours.

A few such “incidents” have happened when he has a manager he really gets along with. When their project together ends, my husband feels the need to give the manager a GIFT. That’s a little embarrassing.

But do you want to know what’s really embarrassing? The gift he chooses. It’s always the same gift.

See, he wants to give something of value (despite that I beg him to avoid giving any gift, but especially an expensive gift). And what does everyone from my husband’s country consider the most wonderful, valuable gift on earth? Why, of course, a SWORD from his country, don’t you know?

Yes, so, what I’m trying to say is this: When my husband finishes a project with a manager he really gets along with well, he gives the guy a SWORD. A REAL one. As in, a sword in a sheath. That’s silver.

He did this rather recently. I am happy to say that, while humiliating, it didn’t cause me to unravel completely. I have learned to accept that my husband does weird things. That’s just the way it is.

Also, there’s kind of a silver lining to this gray cloud. While I would probably cringe myself into a coma if I were present while my husband was presenting the sword, it’s actually kind of FUN to imagine the guy fake liking a SWORD. And to imagine my husband’s oblivious, IMMENSE pride and HUGE smile as he presents such a wonderful gift to a guy he really respects.

Okay, first, background for new readers: my husband does not recognize movie stars by their looks or their names. If I try to say, for example, “Hey Honey, let’s go see the new Matt Damon movie,” my husband will DEFINITELY have no idea who I’m talking about. His only excuse for not recognizing people as famous as Matt Damon, Angelina Jolie, and so on is that he’s from another country. However, he’s lived in the US almost 12 years, and he works in the movie industry, so the “other country” excuse isn’t really helping me understand.

On the way home tonight from our date (which included the 2 children, of course), my husband says, “Oh, did I tell you…I’m pretty sure I saw PITT Brad. Hmmmm, PITT Brad, right? Do you know who I’m talking about?” (I’m writing the way he talked–he was saying Pitt with emphasis for some reason, Brad without, and yes, Pitt first Brad next.) Then I got it and almost yelled, “HU? YOU SAW BRAD PITT? WHEN??”

Apparently this happened a few weeks ago at a traffic stop near Culver City, CA. Now, because Brad Pitt has been in France for the birth of his twins (who have been born, I assume everyone is well aware of this, also that the twins are a boy and a girl)…my husband could very well be wrong. Actually, he could also have the totally wrong guy. In all honesty, he may have no idea what Brad Pitt even looks like. To confirm, I will need to show him a photo and say, “Was this the guy?”

Because the guy wasn’t even definitely Brad Pitt, this may not even be “blog worthy” news EXCEPT for a few interesting details, which follow:

1) Pitt is not a first name, and Brad is not a last name. Therefore, the sentence “I saw PITT Brad” should never happen–not when you’re talking about famous people, not when you’re talking about any people. Perhaps when you’re talking about a pittbull named Brad. But I’m doubting you ever will. Nevertheless, my husband did actually say this, and he was not joking.

2) When people mention Brad Pitt in conversation, they should just kind of know the name without having to ask questions about it or say it backward. I mean, it’s not like he’s only been famous for one year. And it’s not like he’s only a little famous.

3) My husband has worked on at least one movie starring Brad Pitt–Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Maybe others. So, honestly, despite that he usually can’t name movie stars, he really, really should have been able to name this one…And I guess if we got really picky, we’d have to say he almost did. So uh, good for him?

Do you think there are other people on the planet who could see Brad Pitt and think his name is PITT Brad? Do you think there are other people on the planet who could actually think any person’s first name would be Pitt? I’m thinking my husband could be alone on this one–does that make him a jet setter? HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH!!!! I’m So FUNNY today!

I hope that title doesn’t sound too mean. My husband is being so nice, it’s almost like we’re in the dating phase again. I’m really surprised and very, very, very happy with things–so much attention, so much approval, so much togetherness!

But we had a very amusing dialog today, and I can’t resist sharing it. I can’t help how this dialogue is going to make him look. All I can say is trust me–he’s a smart guy, despite everything about this dialogue.

Background: There were about 2 hours when I was thinking I might be in labor. (That was so exciting!) So I wanted to alert my husband just in case–it takes him an hour to drive home and stuff, so it makes sense to say “Hey, get ready, it may be time…but it may not.” SO, here’s the dialogue:

Me: Hey Honey, I think I might be having contractions. There’s a small chance it might be time.

Husband: OK.

Me: Don’t come home or anything yet. I just wanted to warn you.

Husband: About what?

Hahahahhaha. Does this dialogue bring any questions or doubts about my husband’s sanity to mind? What did he think I meant by “It might be time”? Time for LUNCH? Time for the morning MAIL? Sure, except that I had mentioned contractions, and I am almost 9 months pregnant. Oh well. At least he understood after I clarified. hahahahahah.

Update: It’s now the next day. I am pretty sure those were NOT contractions. Why wouldn’t I know this? After all, it’s my 3rd pregnancy…well, hopefully someone will inform me when I begin having contractions, as clearly, I’m not going to know.

I strongly recommend that any and all married people read this article called “The Stages of Marriage” at AgeAndHealth.com. The 12 stages of marriage are outlined by Michael Gurian. Notice that this was written in 2005. It’s still worth reading!

This man’s book helped me through a very difficult time in my marriage. It was difficult, I learned from the book, because my husband and I went through a stage called “The Crisis” stage from Day 1 of our marriage! Usually this should be Stage 5. But for us, Stage 5: The Second Crisis occurred alongside Stage 1 and the ohters that followed. Our crisis was that my husband couldn’t find a job for a very long time, and that was hard for me to understand by about week #2 of our marriage:) But it’s all good now, as we are in year 9, AND he has had a really good job for years now.

Oh, see writing at 12:00am. That’s never good. Too many weird tangents. I apologize!

SO, as I was saying, these 12 stages are quite similar to real life, except that some stages will occur out of order. The stage that makes me saddest to read about is Stage 3: Power Struggle. This stage can last for years, and it is the stage during which most people get divorced. The reason it makes me sad is because for some couples, this stage would probably lead to Stage 4: Awakening, except that marriage is so confusing and hard, sometimes that couples don’t know there’s another stage around the bend.

That last paragraph does NOT in any way imply that I think people should avoid divorce. I know a few too many people who’ve been in dangerous or hopeless situations to judge. So, to clarify, the prior paragraph means ‘I get sad when marriage is hard and confusing for people, especially me,’ NOT ‘I get sad when people get divorced.’

Okey Dokey, so this post was a tad on the unfocused side, as I am writing it after 12:00am, which I think is against a rule I set for myself a LONG time ago for this very reason…But hopefully you’ll find the article interesting–and, should you be having a hard time with your spouse–helpful and a source of relief.