I Sold My Car Today

For the first time since I was 16, I am officially carless. There's not a single piece of heavy machinery registered under the name "Michael Briddon" in the state of Massachusetts. No, sir. No ride. No wheels. No whip.

I sold my Nissan today at 10:30 AM as part of our new plan, hatched by my beautiful wife, to pay off all of our debt in 2013. This chunky transaction is going to help me annihilate the rest of my college and graduate school loans. In a word: Boom. In four words: Take that, higher education.

What's amazing is how fast it all happened. On Tuesday, Bridget suggested a creative, aggressive financial plan she'll be discussing in an upcoming post. On Wednesday, we had a family meeting. On Thursday, I agreed.

And just like that, we committed to becoming a one-car family.

We opted to go to CarMax, which I highly recommend if you are looking to get rid of your vehicle. It took exactly 74 minutes from the moment we walked in the door to the moment we walked out with a check in hand. We met with a nice guy named Rob, someone drove my car for two miles, and we left with 500 dollars more than I expected. (They even returned the Explosions in the Sky CD I'd left in the player.) It was that easy.

As we drove away in Bridget's, er, our, car, I expected to feel a moment of panic. Didn't I just give up my freedom? What if I wanted to drive across the country next weekend? What if we got a huge fight about turning the cable off and the only escape was the open road? None of those thoughts, though, gave me pause. Instead, I was excited about paying off my loans and taking another giant leap toward a better financial future.

Plus, there were these reasons:

• We live in Cambridge and every mode of public transportation is minutes away on foot. 
• I was really sick of moving my car for street cleaning. (I'll never forget the day I came home and panicked because I thought our cars were stolen. Two hundred forty bucks later, I had them both back. It wasn't the best night of my life.)
• I don't have to pay an excise tax anymore. I don't really know what it is anyway. Do you? I mean, sure, I could Google it in a few seconds, but I'd rather just be ignorant on this one. Stupid excise tax. 

Are there risks with having only one car? Sure. It could break down. We could get in an accident. We could both want it some Saturday afternoon. But I think the benefits far outweigh the detriments and it's the right decision in the long run.

Just don't tell 16-year-old Mike. He'd think it was a dumb idea. 

The Art of Daily Communication

I was sitting at my desk at 11:45 AM this past Thursday. By all measures, it had been a fine and typical morning in the life of an editor. I had just done an interview, had polished up a couple documents, and was about to get ready for an afternoon meeting. Something didn't feel right, though.

Then it hit me: I hadn't heard from Bridget yet.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Ugh. Where's the back button on this damn browser? I don't want to read this sappy prose about how this insufferable couple talks to each other every 10 minutes.

Don't worry; that's not my angle. Well, not completely.

Lately, I'm finding myself fascinated by how couples communicate on a daily basis -- especially at work. Do they text all day? Are they glued to Gchat? Do they call each other once? Twice? Every hour on the hour? Or do they say goodbye in the morning and hello in the evening?

I, like most of you, I'd guess, have seen all of these techniques in action. There's the couple that talks every day for their entire lunch break. (A little too much? Maybe.) There's the couple that seems more like buddies than romantic partners. (Not enough? Maybe.) And there's the couple that seems to have it all together. (They never do, of course, but appearances are powerful things.)

Obviously, there's no secret sauce and no silver bullets. What works for one couple might be a nightmare for another.

Which brings me back to Thursday morning. After my realization, I texted Bridget: "Morning! How was your drive?" She texted back a couple minutes later: "Good, but I hate traffic. I'm really looking forward to seeing you tonight." I'll stop there and spare you the sugar-coated electronic conversation, but that little daily communication is incredibly important to us. It's not always meaningful, but it's a small way to say, "Hey, I'm thinking about you and I want you to know it."

(For the record, we exchanged four text messages during work and three after work when I went to the bar for a bit. I'd say that's pretty average for us.)

I wondered, mostly to myself, if our daily communication would change after we got married last March. We'd always stayed in great touch during the day, which I thought was a pretty great thing. But I wondered if having more security meant we wouldn't feel the need to check in as much. So far, that hasn't happened. It could, of course, but I secretly hope it doesn't.

What about you? How often do you communicate with your partner during the day?

Three Reasons We're Cutting the Cord on Cable

I had one of those life-changing moments on New Year's Day. I sat, quietly, on our new couch and stared at the TV. And stared. And stared. I was engrossed. In what? I have no idea. It was either a Family Guy re-run or the Pillsbury Groupon Zipcar Magnavox Powerade Ed's Tire and Automotive Supply Bowl between Alcorn State and Simmons College. The point is, I didn't care what was on the screen.

The moment, the question, hit me like a bolt of lightning: Mike, what the hell are you doing?

The next six words left my mouth in a hurry: "Hun, let's get rid of cable." The response, to my surprise, was simple and positive: "Okay." Just like that, the plan was in place. We were going to become one of those families without cable.

We'd had quick conversations before, but Bridget's love of everything related to Real Housewives and my love of sports ended the discussions. This time, though, we're for real. And here are the three reasons why our decision will stick in 2013:

1. We waste a lot of time watching TV. Like a lot of people and a lot of couples, we come home from work (especially in the winter) and mindlessly find the remote. We hit power, make dinner, and settle on something we can both endure. (I've written about this before.) What. a. damn. waste. And it's all because it's easier and it's part of our routine. But between eye-opening books, the art of the conversation, the massive connectivity of the Internet,  the joy of writing, and, of course, our iPads, there are so many more valuable things to do. Will we still watch TV? Sure, every once in a while. We're keeping Hulu and Netflix -- and there are several bars and restaurants down the street when Syracuse has a big game -- but we'll most certainly watch a lot less of the idiot box. And I can't help but think it will make us more interesting people.

2. We won't have to deal with Comcast as much. We're keeping our wireless Internet, obviously, because we're not insane. So we won't be able to completely divorce ourselves from the frustrating world of cable companies, but this is certainly going to make things easier. No more, "Sir, for an extra $34.99, you can have Showtime for 11 days and 10 nights" or "Well, yes, but that was the Triple Play Special. If you want Internet and cable this year, it's going to cost $28 more for no specific reason." Or my personal favorite during those hair-pulling phone Comcast calls, "Hmm, let me see if the computer will let me lock in that rate for you. Oh, it's saying no. This system just isn't playing nice today ... Sir? Are you still there? Sir? Sir?"

3. We'll save about $60 a month. Will we be able to retire early because of our cable chop? No. But $60 is $60. That's a quick dinner out, a photo-to-canvas project, or 1/8 of one of Bridget's haircut. (Just kidding.) With the changes in the payroll tax in 2013, we'll make good use of the three extra $20 bills each month.

Our quest for a better, more productive, cable-free life, is just getting underway. I'm sure there will be bumps and hiccups along the way, but we're excited. And nervous.

Has anyone else done the cable chop? We'd love to hear your success -- and horror -- stories.

The 18 Reasons Why 2012 Was The Best Year Ever

Without question, 2012 was the greatest year of my life. And, well, our lives. Bridget and I became "The Briddons" in March and it's been nine months of growing closer. That's not to say we both aren't the same independent (and very different) people we were in 2011, but most sentences now begin with "We." So, in looking back on 2012, here are the 18 things that made it our best 366 days ever:

1. We celebrated five wonderful weddings -- including our own -- with friends and family. We may be biased, but we think ours was the best.
2. We never have to deal with the stress of planning our wedding again.
3. We ran a half marathon.
4. We're healthy.
5. We -- and Oscar -- survived the great hambone disaster of 2012. (In short, my mom, excitedly gave Oscar a hambone, which he excitedly devoured. We all smiled and laughed. Then we realized dogs are never, ever supposed to eat cooked bones. It was a tough and fairly disgusting couple weeks.)
6. We locked up our love on the Seine River in Paris.
7. We stayed in the nicest hotel room ever in Enniskery, Ireland. There was a damn TV in the bathroom mirror. In the mirror!
8. We enjoyed a week of paradise -- and ate about eight pounds of ribs and sushi -- in sunny Mexico.
9. We sat on a riverbank on a glorious sunny day in Breckenridge, Colorado, which, for my money, is the nicest town in the United States.
10. We bought a leather couch. (Weeks ago, Bridget and I decided it was best to wait until next Christmas to make the purchase. So, naturally, I'm staring at it in our living room right now.)
11. We saw the Lumineers, The Head and The Heart, Bon Iver, and Ben Harper -- four of the best concerts in recent memory.
12. We won the New Yorker Caption Contest. (One of the coolest things about this was when the guy at the framing store let out an unsolicited laugh when we brought it in.)
13. We went to a San Francisco Giants game, a Red Sox game, a Patriots game, and a Celtics playoff game. (Mike went to the Celtics game, but, you know, the whole our thing.)
14. We booked our one-year anniversary weekend at the Chatham Bars Inn. 
15. We went to Cambridge, 1 and West Side Lounge a whole bunch of times.
16. We got a MacBook Air and an iMac. (We really, really like Apple products.)
17. We started a blog. This is our 42nd post.
18. We were fortunate enough to do the first 17 things.

We only hope that 2013 can somehow rival 2012. It's a tall order, but if Kanye and Kim Kardashian can make it, hell, anything is possible. Happy New Year, everyone!

The Futility of Spending Limits at Christmas

This is the third Christmas Bridget and I have spent together. And every year, the same question gets tossed around starting in early November: How much should we spend on each other this year?

In our three yuletide seasons, I've learned two very important things:
1. We are great at setting spending limits.
2. We are absolutely horrible at sticking to spending limits.

Now, we always have the best intentions. And we're both fairly resourceful and careful with our cash. But for whatever reason, we really, really suck at this.

Take last year, for example. We set our limit at $200, which seems completely reasonable for a couple. Think of all the great stuff you can get for $200! A little weekend getaway in the winter. Lots of nice, warm, stylish clothes. Tickets to a Celtics game or a concert. There are plenty of options. So, of course, we went with diamond earrings and a vacation to Ireland. The trip, obviously, was way more than $200. And so were the earrings -- that is, until Bridget finds out they are cubic zirconia.

This Christmas, the same thing has happened. Realizing that we took several big trips this year and, you know, got married, we were going to take it easy to the tune of a $100 limit. And we really tried. At least I know I did. I spent a lot of time thinking about it. I looked around online for hours. Heck, I even went to a couple brick-and-mortar stores. (Imagine!) In a nutshell, I failed. Miserably. And while I haven't unwrapped her gift to me, I know she failed miserably, too.

This all leads me to a simple question: Why? Is it because we are greedy people who love material things? No. Is it because, as my friend Jesse said the other day, you really can't buy anything for 100 bucks nowadays? Maybe. Is it because this is the last year we're going to have extra disposable cash? That could be it. (Read: Mothers, Bridget is not pregnant. I repeat: Not pregnant. We're just assuming life will be much different next year. Again, not pregnant.) But I think the real reason is -- and get ready for the corny line here -- we're really, really in love. Getting a gift that is "good enough" just isn't good enough. We both feel the need to go above and beyond.

Will there be years when we can't go nuts with gifts? Probably. Will someone need braces or money for a hospital bill or a college education? Most likely. But those years, when we actually stick to a limit, we'll look back at these years and smile. And then probably find a way to break the limit again.

The (Stupid) Top of the Wedding Cake

From the title of this post, it's pretty easy to see where I'm going here. I also considered going with "I Want My Damn Freezer Back," but that didn't seem to be descriptive enough.

No matter how you say it, the tradition of keeping the top of the wedding cake until your first anniversary is silly. It needs to be retired immediately. No, yesterday. Or maybe even a year ago so I wouldn't be stuck angrily fitting things into our tiny freezer every Sunday for the last eight months.

Like many couples, we saved the top tier of our cake after our wedding in March. Covered in wrapping, foil, and probably like a veil or something girly, it has dominated the freezer space ever since. And every time I go in there to put away some ice cream, chicken wings, frozen dinners, or freeze pops, it taunts me. "Ha," it says. "I'm huge and annoying, and you can't get rid of me."

I've pleaded with Bridget several times to do something about this:
Me: "Hey, this cake thing is dumb. What if we just save one piece and share that?"
Bridget: "No."
Me: "Why not? It's not going to taste good anyway. It's going to be gross."
Bridget: "Because it's tradition and it will make me happy."

End of conversation.

The "make me happy" argument will get me every time. But tradition? Come on. What does that even mean? I decided to look it up and, on the Bridal Guide website, I found this:

Origin: To understand this tradition, you just have to think back to a familiar schoolyard rhyme: “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage!” It used to be thought that once a wedding took place, a baby was going to come shortly after, so therefore the wedding and christening ceremonies were often linked, as were the respective cakes that were baked for each occasion. With fancy, elaborate, multi-tiered wedding cakes becoming a major trend in the 19th century, the christening cake began to take a back seat to the wedding cake. Since the top tier of the wedding cake was almost always left over, couples began to see the christening as the perfect opportunity to finish the cake. Couples could then logically rationalize the need for three tiers — the bottom for the reception, the middle for distributing, and the top for the christening.

Today: As the time between weddings and christenings widened, the two events became disassociated and the reason for saving the top tier changed. Now, couples enjoy saving the top layer of their wedding cake to eat on their first anniversary as a pleasant reminder of their special day.

"As a pleasant reminder of their special day?" Seriously? What are the pictures for? Plus, it's only a year. If you forget your wedding day after a year, you probably have bigger problems than the top of a cake.

Sure, when March 31, 2013, rolls around, I'll take a (small) bite. And yes, it will be nice celebrating one year of marriage. But mostly, I'll celebrate the return of space in my icebox.

Thanks for Nothing, Happy Endings

There's only a certain amount of time in every day. Between work, eating, working out, Oscar time, iPad time (which is sacred!), and sleeping, Bridget and I are left with about 30 minutes each night. And, often, to unwind, we like to fill those 30 minutes with a little mutual TV.

What's mutual TV? It's TV time that couples share. For us, that means it's not Syracuse basketball. It's not The Real Housewives of Ann Arbor or whatever stupid city they're in now. It's TV that we both like. By definition, then, it's also TV that's hard to find. So as you can imagine, trying to find mutual TV is like trying to find penguins in Mexico. Here is our short list of successes:

• Parks and Recreation. Best comedy on TV. Everything else is a distant second.
• New Girl. Pretty good, but not great. Without Schmidt, it would likely be off the list.
• Friday Night Lights. Loved it. Amazing. But, sadly, it's over.
• The Newsroom. Compelling TV, but we've done away with HBO.
• Downton Abbey. Fantastic show, but on once every three years or something.
• The League. Hit or miss, to be honest, but the hits are pretty fantastic.

That's it. Six shows. And that's why Bridget and I were so excited to find Happy Endings last year. The show had everything -- good writing, lots of humor, a fun cast, and attractive female stars. (Truth be told, I'm a huge Elisha Cuthbert fan. I have been since 24. The way she ran through the woods when that bad guy was chasing her. And then The Girl Next Door. Good God. But I digress.) It was a show that, as 30-somethings, meant something to us and spoke to us in a way that PBS and MTV do not.

But then this season came. And now Happy Endings is both awful and terrible.

Whatever, Elisha, it's true. Your show has become predictable, boring, and forced. It's poorly acted. The writing is garbage. And last week I read a story about how the cast is full of jerks. So thanks for nothing, Happy Endings. You've become part of our TV Cemetary. Say hi to The Office, Cougar Town, Community, and Two and a Half Men. (Just kidding. No one ever watches Two and a Half Men.)

So if you have suggestions for the winter, we'd love to hear them. Is there some hidden gem on NBC? A diamond in the rough on AMC? Mutual TV is in need of some help.