Queen of the quirks

So I've spent my Friday night doing dishes, laundry and picking up the house. I'm so cool! Maybe the title of the blog should have been "new-found domestication." Anyway... while I was doing all my household chores I realized that I've got a lot of quirks.
The dishes, for example... I could do five sinks full of dishes, but those two forks and spoons -- NO! I hate, hate, hate to wash silverware. There was actually one instance where I threw away my silverware and bought new. I'm ashamed to admit that not only because it is wasteful and completely ungreen but also because it is just so super silly and ridiculous.
So, with this tiny little quirk in mind, Michael and I have a deal -- I do all the dishes and he does the silverware. Glasses may have to go the way of the Michael as well I realized as I was doing the really full sink of dishes tonight (and I don't have a good excuse other than the fact that it was a great week where I was actually able to spend several of the nights doing stuff with Michael instead of home by myself. I didn't want to do the dishes!)
I'm not sure how we can dirty that many glasses with two people. And honestly it is more like just one person. Another of my quirks has me drinking out of the same glass everyday. As icky as that sounds (and as icky as it looks) it still gets washed. It is stained though from years of juice drinking. Tang and cherry limeade Crystal Light seem to leave their mark.
The glass is from Gordo's -- a Cuban restaurant in Tallahassee. It is from my trip to Tally for my Peace Corps gal's reunion three years ago.
So I drink out of that glass 99 percent of the time. How does Michael go through 20 glasses in a week? Really, how?
There are so many more quirks -- I eat one thing at a time. And even the individual things that I eat I compartmentalize. For example, take a fried egg -- I meticulously cut around the yolk and then eat the yolk. Whoppers -- I eat all the chocolate coating and then eat the malted center.
Michael constantly is confronted with these "adorable" quirks and more! But isn't that what makes us so interesting. I am far from vanilla. And while vanilla ice cream every once in a while is a nice treat, if there was only that plain old ice cream available wouldn't we be sad!
Anyway... back to folding laundry. Hope Michael's first night covering a game this time around goes well and he gets home soon.

Pressure...

There's a song called "Pressure" that is one of the ring tones on my phone. I'm not sure who sings it, David picked it as it is his ring tone. It has the same riff or sound as "Ice, Ice, Baby." Before Michael and I started dating, David was the ICE (in case of emergency) in my cell phone.
OK, there is a point to this story... pressure is the theme of the day.
We're all under it. Sometimes it seems so strong that you feel like you can't breath. It can be suffocating. The one applying the pressure probably has no idea the torture they are inflicting on you. Nine times out of 10 it is one of the people in your life that loves you the most, and what they are pressuring you about is something they think will make your life better. But it doesn't make it any less suffocating.
In addition to all being under pressure of some kind, I'm sure we all take turns doing the pressuring ourselves.
Those that know me well wouldn't be surprised to learn that I'm a planner (some would even say a tad-bit controlling, but planner is fairer and nicer). It's a compulsion. It hasn't always been that way. I've spent a good part of my life in places where time had a whole other concept than what we operate on. Maybe it is all of that uncertainty for so long that made me this way. Maybe it is the fact that I have little power over my medical woes that I desire to plan the other things in my life.
Don't get me wrong... I love chaos. I'm certainly spontaneous at times. I've had my crazy moments, but I still have a broader desire to have a "basic plan."
The last 10 months have caused that big, broad, basic plan to change pretty drastically. When I first moved here I wasn't going to even think about dating a Louisiana boy. I was going to put in my time and get the heck out of dodge. But two and a half years later and in dodge I still rest. Curled up in bed next to me (well at least on the nights that he doesn't fall asleep on the couch) is a born and bred Louisiana boy.
Here comes the pressure, which is SO far from intended. (They say the first step to addressing a problem is admitting it, right?)
I love Michael. I know I'm going to spend the rest of my life with this wonderful, wonderful man! And any talk of this magical ring -- that is nothing more than a symbol of our commitment to and love for each other to the rest of the world -- was nothing more than me being excited about the next step. I know that he loves me and has made that commitment to me without that metal and gemstone! And even sillier talk of wedding venues, flowers and babies is just crazy talk. It is the impending 30-year-old in me talking, promise.
Ladies out there, I'm not crazy for being excited about and looking forward to the rest of my life with my soul mate am I?
So, I'm going to take the pressure from my family to move closer to home for what it's worth and as it's intended -- a desire to have their baby closer to home so they can see her and take care of her.
And I hope that I can stop any unintended pressure and get across only that I'm excited about what the future holds for us.
I'm enrolling in my 12-step program tomorrow, promise!