Big no-no! Never complain about your romance to you friends, and definitely not on the Internet where your significant other will definitely see!
While asking for advice and having someone to listen to you are important necessities, I think complaining about your spouse or significant other only makes things worse. Even if everyone is having a satisfying gossip party where they all divulge the metaphorical dirt, it's never okay to betray or belittle your spouse. It's just one of the worst ways to treat your marriage/relationship. That being said, a happy marriage is the envied state of most of the romantically-inclined population, and therefore, the expectations of it are set unrealistically high.
Marriage is disappointing. It's a host of innumerable other nouns as well, but disappointment is probably the one that gets the most attention. This makes a lot of people want to gripe to someone about it, even if the feeling will pass. I'm not immune to it, but I really hate having to listen to someone complain to me about their S.O.
That being said, here's my complaint:
So, I've been married to two and a half years now, and kissing my man for three. Kisses are not romantic anymore. Sometimes he'll lean in for a kiss (just like in movies or books), and then burp (involuntarily) right before. A few nights ago, he started kissing me in a new strange way, and then explained proudly, "Those were Turtle Kisses." (see this link for reference: http://www.gifbay.com/gif/baby_turtle_vs_tomato-18705/ )
This is fairly a common occurrence. I think it's hilarious most of the time. But sometimes he just does it to tick me off, you know? It's like he's thinking, "Here, let me turn you on slightly and then do something I know you hate, just because it's funny." I know I like kissing seriously more than he does. Funny kisses are pretty great and all, but I still want my share of breath-taking moments too. I don't want to feel like all that is behind me just because it's no longer a new thing. But sometimes, it's the harsh truth: romance is dead, and I'm only 24.
I was having these thoughts one night a while ago, and it was much worse than usual because I'd just read a manga with very romantic kisses. As we got into bed that night (that phrase makes you think it's going to turn intimate, right? Wrong!), he asked me to rub his feet, and obligingly lays his head at the foot of the bed. His feet don't really smell, but they were a little too close for comfort. Yep, romance is dead. I thought.
But just as I was lying there, with his feet in my face, feeling that this is my lot in life, he started rubbing my feet. That's kind of aww-inducing. And then, unexpectedly, he brushed a kiss or two on my foot. That was enough to make any school girl sigh. See? Now you think that you're reading about an intimate scene with too much information, aren't you? Lo, the power of serious kisses!
Kisses are important. They can be the difference between life or death in a romance. Kiss wisely. (hahaha!) Lately, he often says to me "I'd better kiss you, just to be safe." to make sure that our love is alive and happy. He's a smart guy. I can't really complain, can I?
I don't think the balance between life and death of love hangs on a single kiss, but it's made up of many sweet moments of hugs, laughter, and that sense of relief when your trust is confirmed again. And since this is a two-way street, it occurs to me that I'd better try and remember to do little things like that for him too-- just to be safe.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
The Fruitless Day
Far, far too often, I realize it's after 4 pm, and I didn't accomplish anything. This shouldn't be a daily occurrence. I have no condition that excuses me from living a meaningful life. I don't suppose any of us have, since many handicapped and bedridden people have been known to possess incredibly positive attitudes and make huge differences in the lives of others, despite everything.
I can't count my attempts and say that at least I tried. Not today. Today I feel the weight of my fruitless efforts, and it is quite heavy. I woke up from my drugged-like state of constant reading and realized (again, for the nth time), "Wait! What have I been doing with my life?! Nothing???" Pretty much. But negativity doesn't help, so I'll try a different treatment on my poor mind.
Today I'll take a deep breath and count what I did actually accomplish.
In the manga I was reading today (NG Life, by Kusanagi Mizuho) a character said: "I'm just packing my bag with the things I love until my allotted time's up. Time won't stop for us, right?" He saw the wonderful things of life as fleeting, and wanted to paint them all while he could. Today I was inspired by the very thing that has distracted me from my goals for months, and not for the first time, either. Funny, huh?
I want to be a part of something great. I don't know how I will ever manage that, but I'll keep trying, and maybe my list of accomplishments will get better, longer, and more meaningful. Посмотрим (We'll see).
I can't count my attempts and say that at least I tried. Not today. Today I feel the weight of my fruitless efforts, and it is quite heavy. I woke up from my drugged-like state of constant reading and realized (again, for the nth time), "Wait! What have I been doing with my life?! Nothing???" Pretty much. But negativity doesn't help, so I'll try a different treatment on my poor mind.
Today I'll take a deep breath and count what I did actually accomplish.
- I ate breakfast. Very important.
- I read a chapter of holy scriptures and was slightly moved as I pondered its application to my life.
- I got dressed and walked down to the leasing office, where I picked up the package (a printer!) that came yesterday.
- I carried the printer back to my apartment without dropping it, and had a nice short walk.
- During my walk, I lifted the box to my head to give my arms a rest, and somehow managed to suppress the urge to sing the natives' song from The Road to Zanzibar, which consists of the repeated words "Batum bamba!" while pounding on the sides of the printer's box.
- I finally filled out the page of Russian Vocabulary-- from Russian 101, I think. Since I passed the class with flying colors, I must not have needed to fill it out then, but my, my... how my mind has changed since 2008.
In the manga I was reading today (NG Life, by Kusanagi Mizuho) a character said: "I'm just packing my bag with the things I love until my allotted time's up. Time won't stop for us, right?" He saw the wonderful things of life as fleeting, and wanted to paint them all while he could. Today I was inspired by the very thing that has distracted me from my goals for months, and not for the first time, either. Funny, huh?
I want to be a part of something great. I don't know how I will ever manage that, but I'll keep trying, and maybe my list of accomplishments will get better, longer, and more meaningful. Посмотрим (We'll see).
Monday, August 12, 2013
Being Social
So, you know how hard it is to be social? With strangers, people you do business with, your spouse's friends, your acquaintances, etc.? It's super hard, and I don't like doing it! The rules for what is polite and what is expected change with every person, place, and situation. And the internet isn't any better! No one minds hurting someone else over the internet. They're just throwing cruel words out for fun. You're a name on a page, not a person. They'll even go out of their way to be a jerk. Even to me! I'm an incredibly pleasant person! I have hardly any armor against unprovoked attacks!
Lately, I'm really, really fed up with the world in general. I think to myself that it's best to give up on everyone that I don't already love. I feel trapped in this crowded city of bad drivers, unfriendly strangers, and acquaintances that don't let me talk. I really hate people. I feel like Roy from The IT Crowd, when he is moved to exclaim (pardon the language): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eVSlE28hOgI
Since I moved, I haven't made any friends. Acquaintances, yes, but no friends. I don't have enough regular meetings with anyone to feel that it's polite to invite anyone over. So I've been socializing mostly with my husband's friends, people he's known since high school. Most of them I like, and it's definitely better than not meeting anyone at all, but...
Well, we had two birthday parties this last weekend. I went to the party on Friday in very low spirits, but it was a complete BLAST! Mostly, we talked and played Cosmic Encounters until past midnight. No one drank (well, one guy had a single glass of bourbon) or spent a lot of money. The other party, which I looked forward to, since my last social experience was positive, consisted of an expensive dinner and drinks at a yuppie hotel pub. Despite the stereotypical funniness of drinking friends, they were more obnoxious than anything. The first party was merely an example of how fantastic it is just to talk with a mix of nerdy and intellectual people. The second party needed money and alcohol to have a good time, and failed (for me. Maybe if I did act foolishly and drank I would've had a better time).
I could complain more, and I want to, but... there's the problem. While I really want to hate people in general, I don't want to be hated. While I feel hurt and want to lash out, I guess I don't want others to be hurt. I don't know if I feel the need to put up a false front of being nice, or if I'm actually trying to be nice instead, but it's a struggle. If I can't be truly happy alone, then I'll have to struggle with my naturally ill-natured self, and try to be social.
My plea to mankind: Don't make it harder for others around you. Be nice. We don't want to go outside as it is.
Lately, I'm really, really fed up with the world in general. I think to myself that it's best to give up on everyone that I don't already love. I feel trapped in this crowded city of bad drivers, unfriendly strangers, and acquaintances that don't let me talk. I really hate people. I feel like Roy from The IT Crowd, when he is moved to exclaim (pardon the language): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eVSlE28hOgI
Since I moved, I haven't made any friends. Acquaintances, yes, but no friends. I don't have enough regular meetings with anyone to feel that it's polite to invite anyone over. So I've been socializing mostly with my husband's friends, people he's known since high school. Most of them I like, and it's definitely better than not meeting anyone at all, but...
Well, we had two birthday parties this last weekend. I went to the party on Friday in very low spirits, but it was a complete BLAST! Mostly, we talked and played Cosmic Encounters until past midnight. No one drank (well, one guy had a single glass of bourbon) or spent a lot of money. The other party, which I looked forward to, since my last social experience was positive, consisted of an expensive dinner and drinks at a yuppie hotel pub. Despite the stereotypical funniness of drinking friends, they were more obnoxious than anything. The first party was merely an example of how fantastic it is just to talk with a mix of nerdy and intellectual people. The second party needed money and alcohol to have a good time, and failed (for me. Maybe if I did act foolishly and drank I would've had a better time).
I could complain more, and I want to, but... there's the problem. While I really want to hate people in general, I don't want to be hated. While I feel hurt and want to lash out, I guess I don't want others to be hurt. I don't know if I feel the need to put up a false front of being nice, or if I'm actually trying to be nice instead, but it's a struggle. If I can't be truly happy alone, then I'll have to struggle with my naturally ill-natured self, and try to be social.
My plea to mankind: Don't make it harder for others around you. Be nice. We don't want to go outside as it is.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
The Shame After Complaining
Do you know that feeling too? Unless you are one of those wise, patient people who don't count their problems before they hatch, you've felt that sheepish, face-hiding shame of complaining about something that actually turns out fine, haven't you? It's quite the common occurrence for me, I regret to say. Something problematic happens, I flip out/grumble/groan, and then it solves itself after all.
"Why is the universe picking on me? I don't wanna! I'm already tired and miserable... Oh, it's cancelled? Okay, that's cool."
So, in my last post, I complained about driving through the city traffic to meet the Sister Missionaries, and of the prospect of having to do that again later that night. When my husband came home (right after I'd cleaned up those carrot peels), he decided to take me out to a Mexican restaurant within easy walking distance, not because I deserved it, but because he is AWESOME. When I told him of the 3rd trip I'd have to make around town, he simply said, "No, you're mine. They had their chance." But I still felt guilty at the thought of not keeping that commitment, so I knew that if they called, I would have to go, or run the risk of hating myself (more).
While we were at the restaurant, eating chips and drinking Horchata, I checked my phone and found a new voicemail. I groaned and listened to it, but lo, and behold, the lesson had been rescheduled! It was time to dance in my seat to the Latino party music on the radio.
Does this happen to you? Maybe this kind of situation is exclusive to my silly nature, or maybe God keeps doing that to poke at me, trying to get me to learn that He's not really that mean, and that I really need to stop over-reacting and worrying.
"Oh, you thought you had a reason to complain? Don't you feel silly now?" To which I hang my head and reply, "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." That's not really how I pray, but you get the idea. Whether you believe in God or not, have you ever felt like this sort of thing has happened to you too? It's not just me, right?
"Why is the universe picking on me? I don't wanna! I'm already tired and miserable... Oh, it's cancelled? Okay, that's cool."
So, in my last post, I complained about driving through the city traffic to meet the Sister Missionaries, and of the prospect of having to do that again later that night. When my husband came home (right after I'd cleaned up those carrot peels), he decided to take me out to a Mexican restaurant within easy walking distance, not because I deserved it, but because he is AWESOME. When I told him of the 3rd trip I'd have to make around town, he simply said, "No, you're mine. They had their chance." But I still felt guilty at the thought of not keeping that commitment, so I knew that if they called, I would have to go, or run the risk of hating myself (more).
While we were at the restaurant, eating chips and drinking Horchata, I checked my phone and found a new voicemail. I groaned and listened to it, but lo, and behold, the lesson had been rescheduled! It was time to dance in my seat to the Latino party music on the radio.
Does this happen to you? Maybe this kind of situation is exclusive to my silly nature, or maybe God keeps doing that to poke at me, trying to get me to learn that He's not really that mean, and that I really need to stop over-reacting and worrying.
"Oh, you thought you had a reason to complain? Don't you feel silly now?" To which I hang my head and reply, "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." That's not really how I pray, but you get the idea. Whether you believe in God or not, have you ever felt like this sort of thing has happened to you too? It's not just me, right?
Monday, August 5, 2013
First: Is Complaining Good or Bad?
First of all, you probably have a good reason to complain.
I do not. I grew up in a loving family, I was able to graduate from a university without any debt, I love my husband, and he makes so much money that I don't have to work. I have my own laptop and a pretty good internet connection. In no way should I be allowed to complain to anyone, but... I still want to.
Complaining is both bad and good. It can be honest or exaggerated, accentuating negativity, or revealing the positive aspects of life. Some do it too much, others too little. Do you ever complain out loud, and then realize that your problems are very small and easily solved? Or, on the flip-side, find that your troubles compound and get blown out of proportion instead?
I'd like to complain about the really easy day I had. The only useful task I've accomplished is folding laundry, even though the kitchen is a stupid mess, with carrot peels left on the counter. I sat on the couch and watched animé all day. It was a weird show, so I'd only give it a C+. Some tv shows are like my mind lately. Too vague. The shows I've watched lately are not focused on concrete subjects, but on abstract concepts, like love, and they waste time with bad attempts at comedy and little to no plot progression. The loves stories aren't that good. They fail to draw me in, but I watch out of boredom. It's unsatisfying, like my life since I graduated.
After that, I was asked by the sweet Sister Missionaries from my church to attend a lesson with them at 6 p.m. I agreed, since I had nothing better to do. Now, Washington state has a cool breeze going, but does that reach you in a car? And will the air conditioner at full blast keep away the heat? Of course not! So my clothes stuck to me, and the house they told me to meet them at was so hard to find that I got lost several times, got caught up in the traffic going to the freeway, and was 20 minutes past the time I said I'd be there.
Why do they have those yellow islands that make turn lanes impossible?!?! Don't they know that it's insanely difficult to find a place to turn around as it is? "We're sorry, you cannot go where you want to at this time. Please drive a few blocks, and try again." Not to mention the commuter's traffic was at its height. It was a pain. I hate driving. I called them twice, but they only called back after I got back home. The man wasn't even there. They want me to go back with them later tonight. The third trip down there, yay!
It's not very far, and I'm not busy. How can I say no? They won't be off the clock when it's over like I will, however. These girls do this every single day, and they're so cheerful. Is industry, or service, the key to happiness? Probably. Purpose. Making the most of life, with purpose in your actions, and the joy that comes from serving your fellow human beings, that sounds happy, no?
You know, before I got up this morning, I wrote a To-do list, and intended to follow it. Am I allowed to complain about how my choices have made me the pathetic person I am today?
My sweet husband will probably come home soon. I'd better clean up those carrot peels now.
I do not. I grew up in a loving family, I was able to graduate from a university without any debt, I love my husband, and he makes so much money that I don't have to work. I have my own laptop and a pretty good internet connection. In no way should I be allowed to complain to anyone, but... I still want to.
Complaining is both bad and good. It can be honest or exaggerated, accentuating negativity, or revealing the positive aspects of life. Some do it too much, others too little. Do you ever complain out loud, and then realize that your problems are very small and easily solved? Or, on the flip-side, find that your troubles compound and get blown out of proportion instead?
I'd like to complain about the really easy day I had. The only useful task I've accomplished is folding laundry, even though the kitchen is a stupid mess, with carrot peels left on the counter. I sat on the couch and watched animé all day. It was a weird show, so I'd only give it a C+. Some tv shows are like my mind lately. Too vague. The shows I've watched lately are not focused on concrete subjects, but on abstract concepts, like love, and they waste time with bad attempts at comedy and little to no plot progression. The loves stories aren't that good. They fail to draw me in, but I watch out of boredom. It's unsatisfying, like my life since I graduated.
After that, I was asked by the sweet Sister Missionaries from my church to attend a lesson with them at 6 p.m. I agreed, since I had nothing better to do. Now, Washington state has a cool breeze going, but does that reach you in a car? And will the air conditioner at full blast keep away the heat? Of course not! So my clothes stuck to me, and the house they told me to meet them at was so hard to find that I got lost several times, got caught up in the traffic going to the freeway, and was 20 minutes past the time I said I'd be there.
Why do they have those yellow islands that make turn lanes impossible?!?! Don't they know that it's insanely difficult to find a place to turn around as it is? "We're sorry, you cannot go where you want to at this time. Please drive a few blocks, and try again." Not to mention the commuter's traffic was at its height. It was a pain. I hate driving. I called them twice, but they only called back after I got back home. The man wasn't even there. They want me to go back with them later tonight. The third trip down there, yay!
It's not very far, and I'm not busy. How can I say no? They won't be off the clock when it's over like I will, however. These girls do this every single day, and they're so cheerful. Is industry, or service, the key to happiness? Probably. Purpose. Making the most of life, with purpose in your actions, and the joy that comes from serving your fellow human beings, that sounds happy, no?
You know, before I got up this morning, I wrote a To-do list, and intended to follow it. Am I allowed to complain about how my choices have made me the pathetic person I am today?
My sweet husband will probably come home soon. I'd better clean up those carrot peels now.
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