Many of you may already know that my husband is currently in Iowa singing in Don Pasquale and The Three Billy Goats Gruff with Opera Iowa. This is a wonderful thing. We are both on the verge of finishing our Doctoral Degrees and we both want to be performers, so we are thrilled that we both have some performing gigs coming up this year, to usher us into this next phase of life. Unfortunately, this means that we will spend more than half of our first year of marriage in different states. This is less than ideal.
At first it was kind of fun in some ways, I got to watch makeover shows all I wanted, and eat when I wanted and be crazy about food and have no one see it. But I think that I wasn't meant to live by myself. I don't clean up. There are still burnt toast crumbs in the sink that I scraped off of my grilled cheese on Tuesday. I've broken a pair of earrings and a necklace because I keep them in my pockets and random places. There are balled up tissues surrounding every trash can (since I've had a cold and my aim has worsened since middle school basketball). Last but not least, on more than one occasion I have spent the evenings marking off hours until my Orange Jello has set. (I usually pass these hours watching What Not to Wear--ironic since I'm usually wearing a gigantic red union suit for bedtime)
Does this mean that when Drake finally comes back I will welcome the hours of PTI? (Pardon the Interruption for all those who are not forced to watch ESPN.) Probably not. But there are some things about "our" life that have grown on me. I now happily watch Longhorn football, as well as any Tennessee Titans games, since our boy Vince plays for them now. I also enjoy outdoor man-ish adventure shows like Man vs. Wild and will even indulge the occasional Myth Busters.
The house is oddly silent without Drake here taking 2 hour showers while singing every high run he's ever had to sing. It smells distinctly less of smoke and BBQ, and more of lotions and perfumes. I have taken over the whole bathroom counter and have spread out my makeup (which has for years been confined to a silverware organizer in a drawer to keep things in "order"... bah!) It will be strange 5 months from now to cohabit again. Will our whole lives be spent like this? Half together and half on our own? Half full of burnt-toast-crumbs-sink and half full of organized makeup drawers?
And a Dog Named Boo: 1936
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