Archive for the ‘Musings on Marriage’ Category

My marriage brings me pahhhhhsta and tahhhhhcos

May 15th, 2012

I’m going to start this post with a little English linguistics 101. Throughout the United Kingdom of Great Britain & Northern Ireland there are approximately 27 million different accents. Seriously. The Preston accent and the Liverpool accent are totally different. You would never mistake a Prestonian for a Liverpudlian and vice versa. The two cities are 30 miles apart..

But you can divide up all the accents into two basic groups – short As and long As.

Taco

People in the South of England use long As. Think of Hugh Grant, Hugh Laurie, Hugh Bonneville from Downtown Abbey. Pretty much anyone called Hugh. They all elongate their As in words like castle, grass and bath. It’s car-sul, grarse, barth.

Everyone else – including northern monkeys like me – shortens those same As. Cass-ul. Grass. Bath.

But one thing we all agree on is that certain words always have a short A.

Pasta.

Taco.

That’s right, you heard me. Pasta. Taco. Not Pahhhsta. Not Tahhhhhco.

On a recent episode of The Office, Catherine Tate’s character used this pronunciation of the word ‘taco’ and it got me thinking about how well I’ve assimilated to life in the US.

Yes, this is how we eat them in England

I know better than to say taco instead of tahhco or t-you-na instead of toona when ordering fish – mainly because Melissa takes the piss out of me when I get it wrong. Even though she still talks about giving the apartment a quick ‘hoover’.

I always think couples who emigrate somewhere together, from the same home country, are at a disadvantage. How do they integrate without someone to gently let them know that a flashlight and a torch are different things here?

I’m glad that – as well as being a genuine American citizen – I’m also a fully functioning (and speaking) member of American society, and for that I have to thank the Americanness of my wife.

 

What kind of couple are you:city, suburb or country?

May 10th, 2012

One of the stereotypes that Tom and I used to believe about marriage was that married people live in the suburbs. But now I know that different locations are right for different couples. The key is figuring out which kind you are.

Regular readers will know that Tom and I met in London, a city straining at the seams with 10 million people (oh, the Olympics are going to be fun!). I lived in a mouse-infested flat perched above Goodge Street Tube station. But real estate agents say “location, location, location” and that’s what this place had. It was in the middle of the city. So what if the rusting deathtrap of an elevator never worked and no amount of cleaning could eradicate years of caked-on dirt from the kitchen? It was a place to sleep for a few hours before going out for another adventure.

Tom and I spent years living in cramped and crumbling London apartments so when we decided to move to the USA we knew one thing for sure- we wanted to buy the biggest house possible. So we bought a house in the ‘burbs and I will never forget how jubilant we were to move our box-fresh belongings inside. We planned to paint and decorate and garden and barbecue and drive to Target on the weekends to buy more stuff.

Which is exactly what we did, and the novelty of it lasted for a while. I’m not sure when I first became aware that I wasn’t loving this big house with its yard and driveway. Maybe it was the first time we had to shovel snow, or when I tried my hand at gardening and discovered the green thumb must have skipped a generation. Maybe it was when we realized how bored we were of the 3 or 4 nearby restaurants or when I found myself wandering idly around Target realizing there was nothing left to buy. However it happened, Tom and I accepted that our great suburban experiment had failed. The house we’d bought was beautiful, the city we lived in adorable. But none of it was for us.

Where else but the city can you find such delightful art installations outside your door in the morning?

So we fled to the Leather District, the citiest neighborhood we could find in Boston. It’s a small block of converted lofts couched between Downtown Crossing, the Financial District and Chinatown. It’s in the heart of  what used to be called the “Combat Zone,” so-called for its concentration of strip clubs, head shops and ladies of the night. It’s been cleaned up in recent years but still maintains an air of scuzziness. Our neighborhood is surrounded by nightclubs and at 2 AM on weekends the street is overtaken by howling drunks who always have an argument below our window. There’s nowhere to park. We’re pretty sure the “Thai Massage Parlor” across the street is offering customers much more than a massage.

We love it. We love the grittiness and the noise (well, OK, our upstairs neighbor has tried our patience a few times); we love being able to walk everywhere; we love that Boston Common can substitute as a backyard (with a lawn we don’t have to mow); we love the tight-knit community of creative, interesting, slightly kooky people we’ve met here; we even love that some of our local homeless guys know us so well that they’ve nicknamed our dog (Pisser, for the record).

It took moving to the suburbs to discover that we are a deeply committed city couple, and that we’re willing to accept all the stresses and strains that go along with it as long as it means we never, ever have to buy mulch. Our marriage became much happier as a result and I feel very lucky that we both felt the same way about urban living.

So what kind of couple are you- city, country or suburb? And how do you handle it if you can’t agree?

OMG, is this another post about MARRIAGE?

April 24th, 2012

I think anyone over the age of 30 has that one friend.

The one who’s obsessed with their child.

Their Facebook profile picture isn’t them, it’s their child. They post updates about their child’s eating habits, milestone achievements, bowel movements. Every Instagram picture is of the kid doing something pretty unspectacular. Every tweet is about how “we” successfully walked two steps today or figured out how to use an iPad.

I’m not complaining. I don’t have to engage with these people on social media. I can hide them from my feed. I can unfollow or defriend.

And I’m not hating either. I’m sure I simply have no idea how much having kids takes over your life and becomes the best thing that has ever happened to anyone in the history of the universe.

And I’m not criticizing because I realized we do exactly the same thing – only we talk about marriage rather than our adorable kid.

It hit me when I was reading something about marriage in the New York Times this weekend: we’re pretty much drawn, like moths to a flame, to movies or books or newspaper articles about marriage, and then insist on spouting off about whether we agree or disagree with whatever piece of marriage-related media it is that’s caught our eye.

And while that’s probably okay on a blog that is specifically about marriage, I’m sure it bleeds through into our other social media presences, and I’m sure many of our friends are sick of hearing about it, even if they would never say anything to our faces.

So, even if we don’t exactly curb our obsession with marriage, at least let it be known that we’re aware of it, and we’ll do our best not to go on about it too much.

Every marriage could use a good bromance

April 12th, 2012

Melissa has written recently about the contrast between time spent together in a marriage and time spent apart. I think it’s undeniable that any relationship needs interludes – whether that’s five minutes or five months – where the two of you are focused on something other than each other.

For most couples those moments come from one of two sources – a hobby or interest that the other person doesn’t share, or a particular type of friendship.

This past weekend I was in Miami with my two hetero life partners, Rik & Wol. Rik is my best friend from childhood – we met when we were 11. 2/3rd of our lives ago. Wol is my best friend from college and my compadre in arachnophobia and ironic love of Bobby Davro.

The weekend was awesome, and it really helped reaffirm something for me. Since we moved to the States, we approach the majority of our friendships as a couple. We’re friends with other couples. Which is great, not least because I get to hitch my introvert wagon to Melissa’s extrovert train, and be more social as part of a couple than I am naturally as an individual.

Because of a lack of bro time in my life, I’d forgotten just why it’s so important, and how restorative it can feel. Although I’m contractually prevented from discussing the main reason the three of us met up in Florida, we also spent a lot of time watching sports, making fun of Rik’s hat, drinking in the afternoon, trying to spot alligators off the side of I-75, and reminiscing about that time Wol and I burned a spider alive.

Why is that so important?

Because for all the things that Melissa is great at, being a dude remains beyond her. She will never have an opinion about why Liverpool are so detestable, or be prompted to say ‘no way!’ on learning that Sunderland had gone 3-1 up against Man City. She might enjoy an afternoon spent watching spring training baseball, but probably only if the third baseman is hot.

Sometimes I need to be able to tell someone about my frustrations with Burnout: Paradise City and not have to preface it with an explanation of what Burnout: Paradise City is.

And the beauty of the whole thing is that I can have a weekend like that and come home to Melissa. That’s your classic win-win.

Do you value your bro-time? Ladies, is there something special about girl-time that you just can’t get from your man? And is there any greater bromance in history than this one:

 

Why my wife doesn’t approve of my [CENSORED]

April 10th, 2012

As I write this, I’m in Miami. It’s 85 degrees and I’m with my two best friends, who’ve flown out from London to meet me here.

The occasion that’s brought us all together is [CENSORED]. It’s on [CENSORED] night at the [CENSORED] here in Miami, and we’re all really excited to be going.

The only problem? Melissa doesn’t approve. She thinks all [CENSORED] is stupid. She doesn’t get why we all like it. Not only that, but she thinks it’s embarrassing to her that I’m into [CENSORED] even though her own mother thinks [CENSORED] is cool, and even though I like it in kind of an ironic, post-hipster kind of a way.

She’s so embarrassed by it that I’m not allowed to make any mention of it on social media. No facebook status updates, no tweets, and no foursquare checkins at any venues that are in any way connected to [CENSORED].

And it’s fine. We have a reputation to protect. I understand that most of the other people who are into [CENSORED] – in a not ironic, post-hipster way – are a little bit weird.

So I’m going to follow the party line on this one. Until I get drunk and blurt it all out on facebook.

Have you ever censored your spouse? How did it work out? Does the truth always come out?

Why “make him addicted to you” is not a good relationship goal

April 4th, 2012

I love Google advertising. I love seeing ads on unrelated sites for things I was Googling two hours ago. It’s dashed clever.

Because of The Long Haul Project, I end up seeing a lot of ads to do with marriage and relationships, and one such ad recently grabbed my attention.

MAKE HIM ADDICTED TO YOU, it said. The link was to a site called havetherelationshipyouwant.com.

Just a quick reminder of the definition of the word addiction:

The state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma.

So if this ad is to be believed, the relationship you want (or should want) involves one party being drawn to the other, without really wanting to be, and with the understanding that the relationship is harmful. Essentially, you should want your relationship with your significant other to be like the relationship between a junkie and the white powder he craves – the same white powder that will eventually kill him.

Right.

Just in case it isn’t obvious, no healthy relationship should ever involve one person being addicted to the other. The sort of relationship where one person is addicted to the other sounds like something spawned from one of my favorite characters in my favorite movie of all time. If all the relationship advice you’re getting from this blog isn’t helping, you might want to opt for the “Seduce and Destroy” method (NSFW):

Married but not living together: What do you think about “Dual Dwelling Duos”?

April 2nd, 2012

Recently, a follower of The Long Haul project sent this great article by Kate Bolick from Elle to our attention, which talks about couples who are married but not living together, or “Living Apart Together” as it’s officially called by the kind of scientific types who spend their lives doing research on stuff like this so bloggers like me can write about it.

The first time I heard of this idea was years ago when I saw Helena Bonham Carter interviewed on some late night talk show. She said that she and husband Tim Burton lived next door to each other, in separate houses. They even maintained this living arrangement after having a son, who shuttled between both houses. I remember thinking the idea was very odd and dismissed it as an eccentricity of a rather unconventional couple of artists.

If we were an LAT couple, who would pup choose to live with?

Fast forward a few years and I don’t necessarily find the idea quite so strange. Here’s why: According to the Elle article, this type of living arrangement was once called the “Fannie Hurst marriage”, named for a short story writer who was “outed” by the New York Times back in 1920 for the fact that she kept a separate apartment from her husband. Hurst’s response to the public outcry to her unconventional situation was this, according to Elle:

Hurst explained that she considered nine out of 10 marriages to be “sordid endurance tests, overgrown with the fungi of familiarity and contempt,” and that by living separately from her husband, she was able to keep her most sacred relationship a “high-sheen damask” rather than a “breakfast cloth, stale with soft-boiled egg stains.”

Perhaps it’s because I’m writing this while Tom is away and I have the apartment to myself, but I can see her point. I love being around Tom and I adore our home together. I dread him going away and hate the thought of rattling around the loft on my own. But then he goes and I’m just fine. I settle into my own rhythm and routine. I have more free time to do little personal projects. I don’t feel guilty that it takes me a few hours after coming home from the gym before I take a shower (I know, I know… it’s totally true what they say about working from home. After the first few days you will not bother getting dressed). And when it’s time to get ready to go out and do something, I felt a tiny bit lighter, more excited, more expectant than usual.

Tom and I have been working together from home and we’ve been working hard. We’ve definitely given in to the inclination to “just stay home” on many nights recently. If we didn’t live together, if we didn’t have a shared living room with all those unwatched episodes of In Treatment and Breaking Bad beckoning to us, would we make more of an effort to go out and have adventures? If we weren’t sharing a bathroom and if Tom didn’t see me in my grungy old robe padding from the shower before I got dressed, would I seem more alluring (it’s hard to imagine anything less alluring than my old robe…)?

Suffice to say, I can see Fannie’s point. By not living together, you can extend (perhaps indefinitely) the romance, mystery and anticipation that usually fades after the start of a relationship.

But if I really think about it, I wonder if by choosing to be in a “LAT” marriage, you prevent yourself from experiencing the intimacy that makes marriage wonderful. The little moments you’d miss if you lived separately, like the other night when Tom sleepily took my hand after I woke up from a nightmare; when one of us walks in while listening to a great song on our ipod and it leads to a spontaneous dance-off; or when it just is nicer to cuddle on the couch with a good movie than any other option.

What do you think? Can you see the upsides of the Living Apart Together arrangement or does it just seem plain weird? Are there other ways to keep your marriage interesting? And does anyone know how the heck these people afford rent/mortgages on two places? As always, love to read your comments!

What married couples can learn from Jim and Pam from The Office

March 27th, 2012

Of course, people will tell you – in a fixie-riding, Williamsburg hipster kind of way – that the original UK The Office was far superior to its US remake.

They’re wrong. The US version is better, featuring such ground-breaking elements as actual jokes and the ability to make you laugh, rather than just squirm in your seat.

That’s not to say that the UK original isn’t great. It is – and I can reaffirm this as it’s now available on Hulu and I recently rewatched the first couple of episodes.

One of the biggest differences between the two shows is the relationship between the boss character – David Brent in the UK / Michael Scott in the US and the two hero characters – Tim & Dawn in the UK/ Jim & Pam in the US. It was really brought home to me by this clip, in which David Brent exhibits his (not so latent) racism:

In the US version of The Office, this exchange would have been overheard by Jim and Pam, who would then tell Michael why it was inappropriate. In the UK version of the show, Tim and Dawn usually watch David Brent’s behavior in horrified silence.

So what does this have to do with marriage?

Maybe we don’t behave as badly as David Brent or Michael Scott, but we all have aspects of our behavior that we could improve. If we’re lucky, we have a spouse who – like Jim & Pam – is willing and tactful enough to bring these improvement areas to our attention in a constructive, helpful way.

It’s actually not easy to point out to your spouse that you think they did something wrong, or could work on a particular area of their behavior. It might seem easier to take the Tim & Dawn route and keep your mouth shut. But I say the point of marriage is to know you have one person who will always be honest with you. A person who will tell you when you have spinach stuck in your teeth; that the joke you always tell at parties isn’t really funny; or that the checked shirt and the striped pants certainly do not match.

So when your spouse offers constructive criticism, don’t get defensive. Instead, ask yourself if he or she is being your “Jim & Pam”. And maybe think about taking their advice on board. Or, you could just act like Michael Scott does when Toby from HR tries to help him out:

Kingston Station: the place where we can’t avoid having an awesome conversation

March 20th, 2012

Remember how on Friends anytime anything significant happened, the six of them just happened to be sitting around at Central Perk, having a cup of coffee?

Last week, we had a unpleasant fishcake-based dinner emergency which meant we had to go to one of our local haunts, Kingston Station, for PBR and truffle fries. Had to, you understand. There was no possible way could have survived otherwise.

Is there some conversational pixie dust in the truffle oil? Who cares... it's yummy!

On the way there I joked to Melissa that we’d better get prepared for a deep and meaningful conversation. I said it because there have been a spate of DMCs at Kingston Station over the past few months. It kinda feels like we can’t go there without having the sort of conversation that realigns our world view.

There’s nothing all that special about Kingston Station – it’s a perfectly lovely French restaurant near our apartment that happens to do cheapish PBR on draft and serve the world’s most amazing fries. But whenever we go, we seem to talk in ways we don’t anywhere else, and last week was no exception.

Maybe it’s because we go there so often, we feel very relaxed. Maybe the PBR helps. Maybe deep in our subconscious, the first DMC we had at Kingston Station established it as a safe place, somewhere we could feel comfortable and uninhibited.

Whatever it is, I like it. A lot.

Each time we have one of these truffle-oil-fuelled DMCs, I come away knowing a little bit more about the way my wife’s mind works. And that’s never a bad thing.

Do you have a favorite haunt that brings out the profound in you? Or do you think I’m just trying to find a way to justify eating more truffle fries and drinking more beer?

Pinterest: a magical window into my wife’s mind

March 13th, 2012

Although she may not see it this way herself, Melissa isn’t your classic over-sharer. She can sometimes be a fairly private person, and I – like many great men before me – often sit scratching my head wondering exactly what goes on inside that beautiful mind of hers.

So when I was making some changes to the Long Haul Films website – namely adding a link to her Pinterest profile – I was pleasantly surprised to find, amongst her boards a whole bunch of what she’s thinking about.

Pinned.

I mean, some of the stuff she is into or finds inspiring is well known to me. It’s no shock to see pictures of Sofia Coppola or Joseph Gordon-Levitt, or even to see a picture of Phoenix with the comment “the best boys are French boys” (by the way, I’m totally okay with that. Not in any way at all bothered by the fact that best boys are the type of boy I can never, ever be. Nosireebob. No problem here. None whatsoever).

But some of the other photos she’s pinned are of things I would never have thought she gave two hoots about. Kate Moss. Roller skates. Audrey Hepburn. Drew Barrymore. A giant metal slide in an apartment.

I want a giant metal slide in the apartment too! Why don’t we have one?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the stuff I knew she likes is the stuff she’s always liked. She’s the ultimate Phoenix hipster (she was into them waaaay before they were cool). We watched Lost In Translation the second night we knew each other. It was a test. I passed.

So this other stuff that she likes is newer and maybe I just haven’t been taking the time to refresh my awareness of what Melissa likes. Which is really bad. Part of being in a successful marriage is understanding that people are constantly in a state of flux. If you fix your idea of who your spouse is based on what they’re like when you met, or got married, you’ll quickly lose sight of who they actually are.

I’m so alarmed by this state of affairs that I’m going to ask my wife out on a first date. I’m going to pick her up and take her for dinner – somewhere nice enough to make a good first impression but not so nice that it looks like I’m trying to hard. And I’m going to pretend that we’ve never met and I’m going to ask her a million questions about herself.