I always forget to take my vitamins.
I have them stored neatly in a wire basket in the refrigerator to avoid a repeat of the Moldy Flinstones Incident. I tell people that you should take them at night so that your body can process them while you sleep for maximum effect. I actually discussed this very subject with a coworker today. Yet I always forget to take them! Today I feel like crap, I’m not recovering from the allergies I picked up in Florida.
My fiancé went back to work this week. It was nice having him around the house: he’s an excellent chef and I never worried that the pets weren’t getting enough attention. The downside was that he was ALWAYS around. Living in a two bedroom, one bathroom place, it seemed we were ALWAYS on top of each other. I hate when people watch me do chores. I don’t MIND doing chores like laundry, dishes, cleaning the bathroom, dusting and decluttering. But I absolutely abhor being watched. It makes me feel like a slave or *gasp* a housewife.
I actually enjoy keeping the house. I think I’m the best at it out of the two of us: I know exactly how things should be arranged and at what frequency things should be decluttered. I hate telling people to arrange and declutter, so I just do it myself. If my fiancé or anyone else is around, I huff and sigh and stew and build resentment as I fold, vacuum and scrub. I eventually get over it, realizing that I do take comfort in this traditionally female role and how damn good I am at it!
Now that he is back at work, we spend more time away from each other. Around six this morning as we kissed and I dashed out the door he said “these days are SO long.” I giggled and reminded him it’s only Tuesday.
Now it’s 5pm and the house is tidy, dog is walked, cat tired out from the feather thingy, vitamins in my belly and I am blogging for the first time in almost a month.
My mind is on Kim Kardashian. Every checkout counter I’ve been to the past few weeks has bold lettering about her divorce. My favorite snippet is about her ex-husband Kris farting on her and her sisters. I feel a kinship with Kris since I also grew up in Minnesota. Kris seems like a typical Minnesota guy. In general, Minnesota girls are a bit hardier, sportier and less anal-retentive than our California-bred counterparts. Most of us don’t freak out about a guy farting, it’s what guys do and frankly, girls fart too. It’s healthy. Our parents taught us that bad things happen when you hold it in.
I missed out on another holiday at my parents’ house in Minnesota. Thanksgiving, and any holiday that involves gathering at the table to eat, drink and be merry always turns to poop in my family. Literally. We always end up talking about our bowels. On my dad’s side especially, we are known for our unabashed bathroom time. We stock books, magazines and games in the bathrooms and frequently hold conversations through the door. My aunt works at a gastroenterology clinic. My brother’s gas passing is unsurpassed.
After a few dinners with my first serious boyfriend’s family, I learned that not all families are like mine. My fiancé’s family isn’t either! Secretly, I think my fiancé is beyond comfortable at my family’s gatherings because of our attitude toward elimination. Last weekend at my future mother-in-law’s house, I had to search for the plunger in the garage and sock away extra rolls of toilet paper from a closet on the opposite side of the house!
I was embarrassed at first, but then I thought of Kris farting on Kim. If I can’t let my body do its healthy processes around those I love, what kind of relationship is that?
Yesterday my fiancé and I celebrated our one year anniversary of engagement. Everyday, I grow even more appreciative of the love we share and how that love allows us to be comfortable in our own bodies.