One of the hardest things about being a happily coupled-up blog writer, particularly one who started her blogging life as a desperately single girl, is how little fodder my gleeful quotidian life gives me to publicly ponder. It’s a lot easier to wax pathetically for numerous paragraphs about the misery of an unreturned phone call or the frustration of a bad makeout session than it is to think of funny things to say about how loud he snores (truly, it’s horrendous) or how happy it makes me when he puts his laundry away a mere two days after I wash and fold it.

Another pitfall I hadn’t anticipated though is when your beloved reads your blog and sometimes forgets to take the posts tongue in cheek. For instance, GTB wasn’t really all that thrilled with the post I wrote last week about him futzing around on my computer. “It makes me sound like a schmuck,” were his exact words. Try as I might to make him see that, actually, it makes ME look like a schmuck, he was annoyed that I feel the need to air my greivances about him to pretty much everyone we know, and several people we don’t (hello, Kings Park, New York!).

While I sort of understand it–I don’t think I’d really like it if he announced in some sort of public forum that it takes me a good 17 minutes to get ready for bed each night–I also have to think of my readers. I just can’t bear the thought of boring you with or, worse, making you barf over stories about how sweet or thoughtful or really super cool GTB is.

It’s a diffcult balance I’m trying to strike here. GTB vs. you guys. Can you imagine the struggle? Can you relate to the inner turmoil?

Are you sick of the hyperbole? Me too.

So, in the interest of making things fair to GTB or, maybe even more to the point, accurate, I thought I’d share the following story:

Yesterday sucked. I won’t go into why, but let’s just say I got bitch slapped twice at both work and in a more vulnerable, financial kind of way. After we’d eaten dinner, we decided we needed to go to the grocery store.

The trip to the grocery store is always a bit difficult because GTB likes Fred Meyer, which I hate for some reason I can’t quite pinpoint. I like Safeway, but the parking lot and other people who frequent it frustrate GTB to no end. So before embarking on any food-shopping trip, we must first have a debate. (Unless we’re going to Trader Joe’s of course, which we couldn’t do last night because we needed Swiffers and light bulbs.)

Last night, GTB just headed right to Safeway. We successfully navigated the parking lot, grabbed a cart, and started in the produce aisle. All I wanted there was a bundle of Pink Lady apples. I love them. They make me happy. And I needed a big shot of happy last night.

We perused the ample apple selection, but couldn’t find those luscious little ladies. Before I even got the chance to put on a good pout, GTB said, “Well, we know Fred Meyer has them. Want to go there?”

I sheepishly said yes, and without even giving me a hard time, he happily put the cart back, escorted me out of the store, and drove us to Fred Meyer where they indeed had Pink Ladies.

I got four of them. Four big shots of happiness.

And one more big reason for me to count my lucky stars I found GTB.

Go ahead and barf now.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 5th, 2006 at 10:22 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.