Tales of Travel

If you asked Bridget to name her biggest concern about about our marriage the day before it happened, she would have skipped the typical ones. She wouldn't have mentioned finances, living situations, or personality clashes. She wouldn't have talked about conflicting schedules, eating habits, or even future children.

Her choice? Travel.

Bridget loves to travel. How much? More than you like ice cream, Christmas, and puppies -- combined. She's the only person I know who went to Australia and India (different trips) in the same year. And that was just the fall. If she had $1,000 left to her name, she'd spend $995 on a trip and $5 on white rice and parmesan cheese at the airport.

As for me, well, travel wasn't really my thing. I've visited about 20 U.S. states in my life, but that was mostly for business. Before this year, my international travel consisted of Canada (Niagara Falls for a few days) and Mexico (Spring Break). Worldly, I was not.

But lo and behold, several months later, we've been to Ireland, France, and, most recently, Mexico. (It's safe to say my better half has opened my eyes a bit.) We also went on a fantastic domestic trip to San Francisco and Breckenridge, Colorado. It's been quite the year and we consider ourselves incredibly lucky to have enjoyed all these adventures.

As we flew back from Cancun on Thursday, I found myself wondering which one I liked best. If I could have gone on only one trip this year, which one would it have been? So here's my list, from worst to first. If you're planning a trip or considering a visit to any of these places, I hope it's helpful:

4. California and Colorado. Don't get me wrong; this trip was amazing, but we have to start somewhere. San Francisco, with its steep hills, fresh air, and delicious food is just about the greatest city on Earth. We took in a Giants game, ate seafood, and met Kenny Bania. And in Breckenridge, we went to a beautiful wedding and were awestruck by the incredible beauty of the mountains and the town center. So why is this No. 4 on the list? We both had to work in California and we'd been both places before.
Best part: Sitting on a riverbank on a perfect day in Breckenridge. Surreal.
Worst part: Staying in a La Quinta just outside Denver. Bridget refused to take off her shoes the entire night.

3. Paris. "Number 3? Really?" Look, Paris is gorgeous. Between the Eiffel Tower, the Notre Dame, Versailles, and Montmartre, I was blown away. Couple that with some adventures -- both biking and boating -- with some good friends from work and we had an absolute blast for 10 days. (The food, the wine, and the people were great, too. Yes, French people were very nice.) But the weather wasn't great, the hotel rooms were tiny, and healthy food options were tough to find.
Best part: Locking up our love on the Seine.
Worst part: Avoiding the cold and the rain.

2. Cancun. For our "official" honeymoon, we stayed at Secrets Maroma Beach, an all-inclusive resort about 30 minutes south of Cancun. Simply put, it was paradise. The most difficult decision we made each day was what time to leave the beach to head to the pool. As if that wasn't hard enough, we then had to decide when to switch from fruity drinks to beer or wine. And then (the nerve!), we had to pick a restaurant for dinner. The food was way better than I expected and the staff was incredibly friendly. The only negatives: At the end, we felt lazy, and food and drinks no longer had value, which felt weird.
Best part(s): Enjoying a couples massage and doing absolutely nothing for five days.
Worst part: Feeling pressured to buy things -- excursions, time shares (optional presentation), and upgraded dinners.

1. Ireland. I cut my teeth on international travel and, of all the destinations, it's the one I want to return to most. Yes, it was somewhat expensive and yes, my knuckles are still fairly white from driving around tight corners on the wrong side of the road. But the country is stunningly gorgeous -- rolling green hills, castles galore, and history seemingly around every corner. We spent time in a handful of cities and towns (including lively Galway) and there are a dozen more I want to see.
Best part(s): Seeing the Cliffs of Moher and staying at the suite at the Ritz Carlton in Enniskery. We'll never stay in a nicer room. Ever.
Worst part: Eating a hamburger in a pub. Hamburgers aren't the same in Ireland. I learned this the hard way.

Saver vs. Spender. Round 1.

For my maiden blog post, I’d like to take this opportunity to talk a bit about A Joint Account and why I find it such a fitting name for a blog about marriage. And it isn’t just because I love puns.

Of all the ways our lives have changed since March 31, 2012, the opening of our joint checking and savings accounts (hereafter to be referred to as “The Joint Account”) has made the most immediate and impactful difference. It is a daily reminder that our lives are blended, shared, and inextricably intertwined. And while there is great comfort in that, it also poses some challenges.  

But let me back up a bit.

I have been earning my own money since I was 11 years old and making a small fortune in West Newbury’s booming babysitting industry. I don’t know if I’ve ever had so much disposable income! Life was good. And even though I’ve since grown up and now clock in at a regular 9-5 gig, the one constant in my life has always been the control I’ve had over how I chose to spend my meager income. And how I’ve chose to spend it is sometimes unorthodox. For example, over the past two years I’ve spent an obscene amount of my money on trips to India, Australia, and Fiji, and developed a pretty serious laser hair removal habit. But who cares? It was my money and I could spend it as I saw fit.  

You see, I like to go out to nice restaurants and order an appetizer AND dessert. I’m addicted to online shopping (remember the 15 wedding dress?). I have an Amazon Prime membership and I’m not afraid to use it (seriously, it is amazing. Check it out). I prefer to buy lunch at my work cafeteria instead of brown bagging it. I am powerless to a good sale. I am physically incapable of going into a grocery store and spending less than $50. And then there is the aforementioned weakness for travel and hair removal. While I don’t have any debt besides my car and a small student loan, I’m also not winning any saving awards. I am a spender.

Mike, on the other hand, has been nominated for a lifetime achievement award in saving. He buys the same ¾ lb of deli meat and ½ lb of cheese each week for lunch and is never tempted by the cafes of Harvard Square. Mike has been known to transfer $0.12 to his checking account to ensure he has a nice, round, even number in there. Mike takes out $20.00 at the beginning of the week and by Friday still has $19.99 (I’m not sure where that damn penny goes). Mike was wearing the same suit his mother bought him for his National Honor Society induction to job interviews until I expressed my horror and subsequently guilted him into upgrading (and it was a brown suit. Brown!). Mike has fiscal willpower the likes of which have not been seen since the Great Depression. Mike is a saver.

So, as you can imagine, the decision to combine our finances was not one either of us came to lightly. In fact, as is my tendency, I did a fair bit of research on the topic of marital finance. I found an article about newlyweds managing their finances quite helpful. I wanted Mike and me to be partners. Especially since we plan on having kids at some point, it just didn’t make sense to me to have separate accounts. It seemed like too much work. It seemed like we wouldn’t be “all in”.

On the other hand, I didn’t feel ready to have to justify my boot-collecting habit to Mike. As a compromise, we decided that we would keep our individual accounts, but open The Joint Account into which we would both transfer money at each paycheck and from which we would pay all of our shared expenses.

The Joint Account has been a real eye-opener for both of us. It is a constant reminder of the need for us to compromise. To respect each other’s differences. To talk directly and honestly about money and about our wants and needs. This is difficult, especially for someone who has spent the last twenty years making these decisions alone.  But it is has also been a profoundly useful way for us to practice the art of being married.