Kids getting married
When Lincoln and I decided to get married, we were your typical fools in love blinded by bliss, who had lost their minds. We didn't seem to care that we were committing the worst mistakes according to all current social standards as well as reasonable advice from almost every marriage counselor.
First of all, by setting a wedding date a little over a year after we first met we reduced the extremely valuable time of dating other people to zero. Being older than Lincoln I had the advantage of an extra 4 years of wonderfully entertaining and fulfilling dating experiences (as everyone's dating experiences were, right?), but I was still only 24 and that is by far not enough years to have dating figured out, let alone to know how to get married. That's what is said anyways. Second of all we had no financial means, no savings, no jobs nor the prospect of such. We also had no "careers", nor professional goals, no 5 or 10-year-plans. And third, - the worst of the worst-, we had never lived together, not in an apartment, a house, not in the same town, not on the same continent. Given this disaster of decisionmaking and preparation we should probably have gotten a divorce long ago. In fact, we might not be even really married, because we just did it all wrong.
To me, getting married to this man was the safest, most responsible and logical thing to do at exactly that time of my life. As exciting as it was, it was a calm and quiet decision. It felt more like an acknowledgement of facts than a tempestuous omygodi'msoexcitedican'tbelieveifoundtheone-type of thing (although I was completely smitten by his good looks). It's like hearing the drops against the window and moving the curtain to confirm "Yes, it's raining." And that's it.
I'm sure some people will say we are just "that kind of people", meaning we are "people who get married". That implies we have some sort of extra marriage gene or are programmed to just pick someone and settle down quickly. Another theory is that it is destiny that put us together and we can never ever separate because she holds us like two foamy Teletubbies suspended in a choiceless nirvana. Some will claim it's just because we are extremely attractive people and can't get enough of staring at each other, which always ensures longlasting marital stability. The last version is probably closest to the truth but still wrong.
I like being married. I loved my wedding, don't get me wrong, but what comes after is so much better. Nobody warned me about the satisfaction of living the daily grind with someone you know in and out... and yet not completely. I was unprepared for the joy of seeing my husband totally excited about something I could not care less about. Who knew there would be this inaudible conversation going on, a tacit "I know that you know that I know..." that goes on and all times and melts the boundaries between "I" and "you", so that sometimes you wonder if this was your thought or his or whether you really are two separate people. Marriage is not popular, at least not for those reasons. There is a strong emphasis on either romantic ecstasy or the suburban boredom when it comes to the notion of taking vows. You will be cautioned about trusting too much or giving too much. You will not be cautioned about the unity, the friendship, the metamorphosis you might go through... and enjoy!
I'm not the perfect wife, although I do bake cookies on a regular basis, but I do have the perfect marriage, in great part due to a perfect husband who was dumb enough to agree to a seemingly doomed set-up and like me, is happy because of it.
Posted at 09:30 PM on March 30, 2004 | Comments (6)Two years
I just remembered it's been two years this month that I started this weblog. Reading some of the old entries I realize my writing has improved. Or so I'd like to believe. Actually, I knew my writing improved even before because if that's not the truth then I'd be really embarassed, and I'm not embarassed so I guess that means I'm really good writer (as you can tell from this sentence).
My "about" section is currently not up because it has to be redesigned to fit the new scheme and while I think of something else to put there I will give you the top 5 reasons why I write this blog:
1. I like to write.
2. You might know that I live several tens of thousands of miles away from my closest family and friends and this is a way to let them know I'm ok and also keep them interested in me. (It's also an attempt to keep up the myth that "moving to the USA" is still what it used to be: pure financial success!)
3. Let everybody know what I think.
4. Keep some sort of diary. I never managed to do what is considered faithful diary-keeping, so this is a pretty big deal.
5. I don't know. I picked 5 because it sounded better than 4.
If you read lots of blogs or generally have checked out other sites, you will see that there is some sort of "culture" around it and interestingly the communities are separated by countries as if they were truly "located" somewhere. It seems there is also some sort of clique-building going on... some sites are always linked to, popular weblogs link to other popular weblogs (sort of like: if you link to me I'll link to you etc. etc.) Not suprisingly the popular ones will have a similar tone, format and political background. It's impossible not to think: "Oh, should I be more like soandso? Maybe my site is boring. Does anyone else read this besides my mom? Do I suck at writing? I think I suck at writing. I'm not cool, who am I kidding... Maybe if I only wrote about the Drum and Bass albums released in 1997 and make everyone who's never heard of it (about everybody I know) feel really stupid and backwards, then I'd seem cool and be linked to more."
Why we always fall into that high-school-thinking I don't know. Maybe because there is always this need to draw a line between them and us. It's tiring to always having to measure yourself against popular opinion. What's out there makes a statement about you before you even opened your mouth. Ok, how did I get here. Ah, yes, all I wanted to say is that my reasons for this blog are rather personal and don't have much to do with the weblogging avantgarde.
I like doing it, I hope you like reading it.
Posted at 03:03 PM on March 27, 2004 | Comments (3)Headline today!
Veronika slept from 11 p.m. until 6.45 a.m. last night, making this the first night for me since her birth to sleep without waking up! So this is what it feels like...!
Posted at 10:39 AM on March 23, 2004 | Comments (4)Lo de Madrid es otra cosa
A Spanish expatriate compares 9/11 and 3/11
I usually don't post anything in Spanish, but this article/commentary is just too fitting and intriguing. I apologize to those who don't understand it, but there is no way this could be translated.
Posted at 01:00 PM on March 20, 2004 | Comments (5)The Flap.
One of the best-kept secrets of new motherhood are the specifics of the postpartum belly. While for nine months every woman joyfully displays her gradually expanding belly in cute maternity clothes and numerous photos, after the baby is here, there is a chilling silence. I am here to do a "Where are they now?"-report on the cute little, ok, enormous bulge you used to see around here about 8 months ago.
Uhm. It's a lot smaller but it has lots more character. Instead of saying: "Look at me, there's a little miracle inside!" it's saying something like: "Look at me, let this be an eternal penance for any vain thought you have ever entertained in your entire life!" Unless you were a lucky bastard or 16 when you had your first baby, you will have to admit you know what I'm talking about. Surprisingly when I did a search on "postpartum belly" on google there are barely any results and if you do an image search you will see... more pregnancy pictures. I can't help wondering if this is part of a conspiracy - either to make you forget what you look like so you have more kids or, more likely, to make you feel miserable because obviously no one else has that problem. Instead you will be bombarded with half-naked postpartum pictures of celebrity moms who seem to have popped a 9-pound-baby in their favorite yoga pose and 5 minutes later slipped into a bikini for a photo shoot to show the world that you CAN be a mom and a superskinny superhottie at the same time. Because ultimately we all know that for women there is nothing as important as being a superskinny superhottie.
On that note I will out myself and let you all know that I have failed in that department. Miserably. I am still a superhottie (says my husband and he is totally impartial because he knows that I would never make his life hell and poison his lunch if he said otherwise) but superskinny... no. Let there be a picture of a postpartum belly on google right now.
Turns out, when you are pregnant and your belly stretches over an entire human being, once the baby is out, you are left with a big roomy bag right in the middle of your body. All the extra skin is sort of hanging there wondering what to do now and since there really is nothing to do it relaxes around your waistline, throwing a flabby hello over your jeans to anyone who'll look. It will add some interesting patterns when you try to wear pantyhose. If you wear them at the usual height they will create a clearly defined break splitting the flab into the upper and the lower flab. The other option is to pull the pantyhose all the way up to your bra and spend the rest of the day feeling the edge slowly rolling down while the lower part of the belly is actually doubled and you feel like your belly button is kissing the skin underneath. It's a brand new body part, competing with the breasts for the "How low can you get?"-title. (When Veronika weans I will give you the update on who won.)
Prepartum Ladies, I am here to tell you it is not pretty. It will probably never get as pretty as it was - even if you never had a flat belly. There is just something ... jiggly about it. The good news is, well, there isn't, but it sure is fun to scare the not-yet-pregnant-women out there! :)
Even more unpopular
"But traditionalists, especially Christian traditionalists (in whose ranks I include myself) need to get a clue about what has really been going on and face the fact that same-sex marriage, if it comes about, will not cause the degeneration of the institution of marriage; it is the result of it."
My sentiments exactly. Thanks, Pansy for the link.
why
This is devastating news. Madrid is close to my heart - I lived there for almost a year and visited countless times. What the hell is wrong with these people?!
Posted at 09:58 AM on March 11, 2004 | Comments (1)Immigration Issues: 5. The prideful p-word
I think we have already established from previous entries in this series that when you're an immigrant, you just can't win. It's a constant back-and-forth and there is no escaping the judgement from either side of the identity spectrum, but when it comes down to really cracking down on an immigrant's sore spot, there's nothing like taking a good swing at it with something called patriotism.
In its original meaning and purpose patriotism means the love of one's country - a definitely positive attitude and action, a virtue that inspired great heroism. That's what I'm told anyway. And it's not that I'm against loving one's country or loving "my" country for that matter, that's not the issue. The issue for the immigrant is "what is my country?" and since that one will fade to the background to give priority to love, commitment and loyalty to friends and family from the different countries the immigrant has lived in, patriotism in its traditional sense is impossible... and irrelevant.
That does not sit well with most people though. Saying, you do not feel patriotic for any particular country is heresy. Alright, almost. It's insulting and ungrateful. To who? Well, to whoever feels you owe loyalty to a homeland (obviously their own). It is possible that patriotism really does exist in its pure form. It is possible that it inspires good things. To be honest though, I have not seen that happen... yet.
"You should be patriotic because this is a great country. It's better than most other countries."
- I know patriotism doesn't imply pride in the sense of feeling superior, just pride in the sense of gratitude and achievement. Unfortunately every time someone mentions patriotism it is to support their views on the superiority of their country. I understand that people will have a special place in their heart for the place they grew up in and for what's "theirs". We are all very fond of our own families, much more than of any other, but what it comes down to is putting other people down in order to see oneself emerge above. Patriotism is always used to boast and brag and to mask contempt.
"You should be patriotic because you owe your country what you are today."
- No. I owe many people what I am today. I owe many countries what I am today. I love the people more though. Today's borders are a consequence of deliberate decisions and bloody wars. Even though countries developed a common identity, my personal identity might not be woven of those same ingredients.
"We are all patriotic. We decide what that means and you are not it."
- Oh the times I have been given the feeling that without "being patriotic" (whatever that meant at the particular moment) I will be denied friendship and respect! What it really came down to is, that there was a group of people with a huge nothing where self-esteem and identity was supposed to be and patriotism filled it. It was an unspoken agreement that they will protect each other by covering up for the void, and patriotism was the name of the pact.
"You don't want to be pariotic because you shun commitment. You are a liberal wuss."
- I don't even want to go there.
Maybe my view is one-sided. I just grew weary of trying to argue nationalistic tendencies - just because they were relabeled "patriotic". I have seen too many places, too many people and too many common grounds to be able to draw lines and say: my country - your country. If as an immigrant you want to be true to your heritage, you will have to lie to yourself first in order to fit someone's concept of loyalty and identity. It's wonderful to be born and grow up in the same place, admittedly the immigrant doesn't know what that feels like. Does that make him lesser of a person? Does that imply a handicap, a fault, a mistake? I don't believe that and I therefore I don't believe that a "native's" true self is a direct result of having had the same passport all his life.
Patriotic pride thrives on two premises:
1. "All I've really seen in my life is my country, so it must be the best!"
2. "I've seen lots of other places, but I'm nothing if I can't feel superior to someone else."
Granted, that's not what "love of country" implies, but that's what's out there. Take it from an immigrant.
Something warm
My husband did a great review on a really good movie we watched last weekend. Go, see it. Recommended by the Souzeks. :)
Posted at 12:29 PM on March 08, 2004 | Comments (7)Election time... ugh.
It seems if you are an American Catholic chances are you are Republican. Not that I'm a fan of the Democratic party but to be honest, I can not see how the GOP has proven itself successful in promoting any values the Catholic faith teaches. I guess when it comes to the abortion issue Republicans have a better track record but they are far from pro-life.
As a native Catholic and non-American I don't see the Vatican-GOP connection at all. I dread the upcoming elections... where there will be non-official persistant pressure from "trusted" Catholic sources to vote for the self-proclaimed good-doer. Good for me that I can't vote here.
(Sorry, I decided to disable comments. I wasn't looking for clues. Email me if you need to.)
Frivolous Virtual Spending
I love shopping online. You can look around, fill your shopping cart with tons of stuff a million times and not have to endure the constant "Everything ok?" "Anything I can help you with?" "These are the sales we have today: blablabla". There's not even the stern look from the shop assistant after all her atteempts failed. The thing is, I don't buy anything. I just go shopping. Get it?
Here are a few things that I "bought" recently:
* A cute insulating blanket for soon-to-be-mobile 7-month-olds.
* Omygod, this one's even cuter!
* A super-fun toy, supposedly just for babies.
* The funnest rocker ever.
* But maybe I'm more prissy and stick with something classic.
* Speaking of prissy, every girl needs something like this.
* Or something like this.
* "Mom I'm sick of all the girly stuff."
* "I don't care. You are my daughter and you wear what I want. Your time will come when you get your own daughter!"
* Another toy we will fight over.
* Oh, I would've died for something like this as a child. Or maybe the monkey? Or the bear?
* This is a great alternative to a rocker. Not that I would get rid of my rocker, but for the next baby... ahh (imagine me - a few years down the road (am not considering pregnancy right now) - in my huge house with the dark hardwood floors, beautiful new sleepy baby on my brand new cheese, uh, chaise)
* So, anyway, if I do get pregnant, then Veronika and I totally need this.
* And since I'm going to be filthy rich, my baby will need the best stroller out there.
And when I satisfy my adquisitive lust, I just close the windows, and go about my business, my bank account untouched.
Posted at 08:39 PM on March 02, 2004 | Comments (3)