The Trouble With Bedtime

The first disagreement Mike and I ever had was about bedtime. Mike took that position that going to bed at the same time was romantic. He said he liked everyone to be all tucked in and tuckered out at the same time (I'm clearly paraphrasing here. I don't believe he has ever used the phrase "tuckered out." Thank gawd.). At the time of this bold declaration, I was a devout night owl.  When no one is around to tell me to go to bed, I'll likely be found passed out on the couch, makeup smeared across my face, teeth unbrushed, with half a sandwich hanging out of my mouth. So I reacted badly to this idea of forced bedtime. Especially since Mike is an early-to-bed-early-to-rise-take-an-agressive-mid-afternoon-nap kinda guy. Mike is sensible. Mike always brushes his teeth before bed. Mike always goes to bed at a reasonable hour.

After much initial protest, I ultimately decided to try things Mike's way for a bit. And it turns out, it is actually really nice to get eight hours of sleep. I never knew I could feel so rested! So alive! I even liked turning in early and reading our Kindles together until we fell asleep (barf, I know).

But then something came along to ruin this domestic bliss. And that something is the iPad.

Lately, I'll more likely than not be found curled on the couch with my iPad, gleefully tapping away at its shiny screen until the wee hours. What am I doing, you (and Mike) may ask? Oh, you know, the usual. Going to various retailer websites and playing the, "I'm independently wealthy and can buy anything I want" game. (This game involves perusing said retailer's site for hours and putting all the things I would like into my shopping cart....with NO regard for price!! Shocking, I know. Let me be clear, I don't actually buy anything. That is not part of the game. Simply looking at my full cart with things I can't afford is somehow pleasure enough. I may have a problem. )

I can also be found perusing various blogs. Some about house tweaking, others about celebrities. I'll check all my bank and credit card accounts, mint.com and loans. Just to be sure they are all still there. I'll check the news. I'll check Facebook about a million times just in case someone posts something interesting (spoiler alert, no one does).  I'll also check email incessantly just in case I get some good spam. Then I'll move to sites like RueLaLa.com, Gilt.com, and OneKingsLane.com to look at all the things I really shouldn't buy.

But the majority of my time is spent reading magazines. I subscribe to this wondrous and magical thing called Next Issue. Next Issue is an app that allows me to read virtually every magazine worth reading (and many that are not - I'm looking at you, Wood magazine) for one monthly fee. Something like 60+ magazines. All at my fingertips. It almost makes my head explode. I've died and gone to magazine heaven.

Long story short, I spend a lot of time on my iPad. And it is getting harder and harder to turn in early when I still have 55 magazines left to read. This makes Mike sad, not only because he likes us falling asleep together, but more importantly, when he goes to bed before me there is no one there to catch his Kindle when he falls asleep with it against his face. This is my designated job (seriously, I have to do it. I wrote it into my vows.)

But after too many nights with my iPad and with Oscar distraught because he can't handle when the two of us are in separate rooms, I start to miss my husband. Because that time before bed when we disconnect from the world and read together is that kind of elusive quality time that you don't appreciate until you start to miss it. And I miss it. So tonight, I'm putting away the iPad.

The Fiscal Diet

As I've mentioned in past posts, I’ve started training for a half marathon. And as with all my harebrained schemes, I first like to invest in various accessories to properly equip myself. “Retail before action” is my motto.

So I recently decided that I REALLY needed more capri pants for running. There was no way I could commence running in this heat (oh, the incessant heat!) without purchasing some new running capris. These capris were an essential element of my running wardrobe, and I was in desperate need of them.  Things appeared grim until I could acquire new capri pants.

I explained this pressing need to Mike. He appeared confused. “But sweetie, don’t you already have enough pants?” he asked, helpfully. Certainly not! He was surely mistaken. And how dare he question my need for new workout gear.

Then, during an expedition to my closet, I uncovered a treasure trove of workout pants. It turns out that I already owned eight pairs of capri running pants. Eight! Not including long running pants or running shorts, of course. Those I also had in spades.

This discovery was a bit sobering. And it was at this time that I began to wonder if I had a problem.

Maybe I should have recognized there was an issue when I was greeted by a new shipment from Amazon/Zappos/Gap/RueLaLa/Banana Republic/Endless every week. Or maybe I should have realized things were getting out of hand when I could no longer stuff any more clothes into the spare bedroom I’d turned into my closet. Or when I would discover various items of clothing lodged deep within my dresser drawers, with the tags still attached.  Or even the umpteenth time I bought an article of clothing, only to bring it home and realize I already owned the same exact item.

My name is Bridget and I’m a shopaholic.

So I’ve put myself on a fiscal diet. Specifically, I’ve decided not to buy any “things” for next few months. I’m on month two of said diet, and I’ve discovered something a bit unexpected. Now that I’ve decided I’m not going to buy anything, I feel, well, relieved. I don’t have to read the five million emails I get daily about new discounts and sales. I don’t have to spend hours trolling the internet for deals on things I don’t need. I don’t have to buy another ugly tank top that I’d never wear just because it is 70% off.

And as for all that money I’m saving by not buying things I don’t need? Well, don’t worry. I’ve already spent that on a honeymoon to Mexico. Because if there is one thing I CAN justify spending money on, it is white sand beaches and cocktails with my husband. And ten years from now when we look back at this time in our lives, I guarantee Mike and I will have better memories of our travels than we do of my capri pants. At least I will. Mike really likes capris.

Our (Clickable) Wedding

I'm Mike. She's Bridget. And this is a picture from our wedding day. It was an awful lot of fun -- tearful vows, an open bar with predictable results, and frosting in faces. The Chatham Bars Inn in Cape Cod provided the perfect backdrop to an amazing event we'll never forget.

Big deal, right? People get married all the time. We think our wedding was the best ever. You probably do, too. (That is, if you're married. If so, congratulations! It's fun, isn't it?) But what's different about our wedding is that it all started with a click.

It all began during the week between Christmas and New Year's Day. We were both off from work for a few days and starting to feel the weight of a do-it-yourself wedding. The plan was a backyard in June, which meant caterers, tents, and worrying about rain and happy Moms. Ugh. So, we scrapped that with an unlikely solution: A one-click, throw-your-worries-away, Groupon-type wedding. 

Huh?

We couldn't believe it either. In a world that is quickly become overrun (and improved?) by technology, we clicked the most expensive link of our lives and purchased a 50-person wedding at The Chatham Bars Inn, save a DJ and a photographer, from Rue La La. (Bridget actually did the clicking; Mike's hands were shaking far too much for him to do it.) 

And just like that, we were getting married in March -- March 31, to be exact. 

The clicking didn't stop there, though. During the next three months as we prepared for the biggest day of our lives, we also:

• Bought Bridget's dress and veil online. (She actually bought, like, 15 dresses and kept returning them until she found the perfect one. This was a source of stress. Mostly for Mike.)
• Bought Mike's wedding ring online from Blue Nile. (This actually took a few attempts, too. Bridget can be picky.) 
• Bought some groomsmen gifts (books, Syracuse ball markers, baseball cards, ties, pocket squares) and bridesmaid gifts (necklaces and pashminas) online. 

The event came and went off without a hitch. The Chatham Bars Inn staff was amazing. The dress was perfect. The ring fit. And the gifts were met with handshakes and hugs. 

Now, two months later, Bridget and I have decided to start a blog. (Sorry if the name made you think it's about weed; it's not.) We are very happy and very much in love, but we're just figuring out how to do this marriage thing. Do contact lenses fall under the joint account? How many magazines does one person need? Who takes our dog, Oscar, out for his final pee of the night? These are important decisions and we hope you enjoy reading about our triumphs and struggles as we blog about them.

So, welcome. Thanks for reading. Stay tuned for much, much more.