and so, so random.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
The Analyst
I married an analyst. And I mean that in several senses of the word. For one, RP actually analyzes (real estate investments) for a living (or did before he got that sweet, sweet promo). And secondly, he also analyzes… well, everything else in life.
Remember that whole kids-and-marshmallows study where they gave children one marshmallow and promised that if they didn’t eat it they’d get TWO marshmallows later? Well, RP would be the one who kept his marshmallow (and not just because he actually doesn’t care for them). In fact, he’d probably spend subsequent hours composing a list of the pros and cons associated with eating said marshmallow.
On the other hand, I would have eaten the marshmallow (and knocked out several other children in order to eat their marshmallows). When it comes to decision-making, I tend to have a trigger-finger. That’s why I scoop up month-old clothing to consign, spend all my money on new and fleeting hobbies, and rarely make it past 11:30 am before eating my lunch.
This is a concept I must remember when RP asks me for “advice,” which is a coy way of saying, “let me use you as a way to think out loud.” Let me share some examples.
The Alaskan Bed and Breakfast
RP: “Since I’ve planned everything else, why don’t you book a B&B for our last night in Seward?” --10 Minutes Later--
KP: “Done. It’s downtown and looks really pretty.”
RP: “Oh. I was thinking maybe we’d get one with a hot tub and sauna.”
KP: “Well, I already paid for it. Not many have those.”
--30 Minutes Later--
RP: “I found one with a hot tub and sauna just out of town. Can you cancel that reservation?”
KP: “I can try.”
RP: “Okay, cool. I’ll book this one.”
Friday Night Dinner
RP: “So what time does the movie start?”
KP: “In 15 minutes.”
RP: “Ok, but I’m starving. Let’s get something quick.”
KP: “Ok, there’s a Greek place right there? Or Wahoo’s? Or that natural café?”
RP: “The problem is that it starts so soon.”
KP: “Right. So let’s grab something fast and be 10 minutes late – they’ll still be showing previews.”
RP: “Hmmm. Okay. Let look at the menu at the natural café.” “Oh, it looks like it’ll take a while. Maybe we should just do Wahoo’s?”
KP: “Awesome. Let’s go.”
RP: “Oh, but they can take a while too… and there may be a line.”
KP: “Okay, how about this pizza place?”
RP: “Well Wahoo’s probably has more for you to eat.”
KP: “I don’t care, but if we keep discussing it we won’t have ANY time.”
RP: “How much more time do we have?”
KP: “10 minutes.”
RP: “That’s not enough.”
KP: “Okay, so we eat after?”
RP: “I’m really hungry.”
KP: “Honey, I don’t know what you want me to do.”
RP: “Okay, let’s go to Wahoo’s.”
The Rabbit
RP: “I just like the black rabbit in San Diego.”
KP: “I know; we should probably just adopt her.”
RP: “But she has a cataract.”
KP: “Yep, she does.”
RP: “Those can grow and she could go blind.”
KP: “Yeah, that’s true. We could look for a different bunny?”
RP: “She was the best we found.”
KP: “So let’s adopt her.”
RP: “It’s just that we’re taking a chance with her eye.”
KP: “Okay maybe we can have a vet look at her?”
RP: “A cataract’s a cataract. They can’t do anything about it.”
KP: “We could look until we find another good bunny. No one’s forcing us to bring a rabbit into our home.”
RP: “But she’ll get adopted and be gone.”
KP: “Then let’s adopt her.”
RP: “But she has a cataract….”
Do you see why my life is complicated? And (wait for it)…. We’re currently trying to buy a house.
Someone save me.
Remember that whole kids-and-marshmallows study where they gave children one marshmallow and promised that if they didn’t eat it they’d get TWO marshmallows later? Well, RP would be the one who kept his marshmallow (and not just because he actually doesn’t care for them). In fact, he’d probably spend subsequent hours composing a list of the pros and cons associated with eating said marshmallow.
On the other hand, I would have eaten the marshmallow (and knocked out several other children in order to eat their marshmallows). When it comes to decision-making, I tend to have a trigger-finger. That’s why I scoop up month-old clothing to consign, spend all my money on new and fleeting hobbies, and rarely make it past 11:30 am before eating my lunch.
This is a concept I must remember when RP asks me for “advice,” which is a coy way of saying, “let me use you as a way to think out loud.” Let me share some examples.
The Alaskan Bed and Breakfast
RP: “Since I’ve planned everything else, why don’t you book a B&B for our last night in Seward?” --10 Minutes Later--
KP: “Done. It’s downtown and looks really pretty.”
RP: “Oh. I was thinking maybe we’d get one with a hot tub and sauna.”
KP: “Well, I already paid for it. Not many have those.”
--30 Minutes Later--
RP: “I found one with a hot tub and sauna just out of town. Can you cancel that reservation?”
KP: “I can try.”
RP: “Okay, cool. I’ll book this one.”
Friday Night Dinner
RP: “So what time does the movie start?”
KP: “In 15 minutes.”
RP: “Ok, but I’m starving. Let’s get something quick.”
KP: “Ok, there’s a Greek place right there? Or Wahoo’s? Or that natural café?”
RP: “The problem is that it starts so soon.”
KP: “Right. So let’s grab something fast and be 10 minutes late – they’ll still be showing previews.”
RP: “Hmmm. Okay. Let look at the menu at the natural café.” “Oh, it looks like it’ll take a while. Maybe we should just do Wahoo’s?”
KP: “Awesome. Let’s go.”
RP: “Oh, but they can take a while too… and there may be a line.”
KP: “Okay, how about this pizza place?”
RP: “Well Wahoo’s probably has more for you to eat.”
KP: “I don’t care, but if we keep discussing it we won’t have ANY time.”
RP: “How much more time do we have?”
KP: “10 minutes.”
RP: “That’s not enough.”
KP: “Okay, so we eat after?”
RP: “I’m really hungry.”
KP: “Honey, I don’t know what you want me to do.”
RP: “Okay, let’s go to Wahoo’s.”
The Rabbit
RP: “I just like the black rabbit in San Diego.”
KP: “I know; we should probably just adopt her.”
RP: “But she has a cataract.”
KP: “Yep, she does.”
RP: “Those can grow and she could go blind.”
KP: “Yeah, that’s true. We could look for a different bunny?”
RP: “She was the best we found.”
KP: “So let’s adopt her.”
RP: “It’s just that we’re taking a chance with her eye.”
KP: “Okay maybe we can have a vet look at her?”
RP: “A cataract’s a cataract. They can’t do anything about it.”
KP: “We could look until we find another good bunny. No one’s forcing us to bring a rabbit into our home.”
RP: “But she’ll get adopted and be gone.”
KP: “Then let’s adopt her.”
RP: “But she has a cataract….”
Do you see why my life is complicated? And (wait for it)…. We’re currently trying to buy a house.
Someone save me.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Priceless Price-ism: Procreation Edition
Loyal readers may recall that RP is a little--um--less than enthusiastic when it comes to the subject of "babies." That said, current events (read: announcing my psuedo-pregnancy via Facebook on Christmas Day) have me suspecting that my little child-phobe is warming to the idea of having his very own RPJ(unior).
Wrong-o.
Last Sunday we were on a beach trail stroll and I came upon this heartwarming scene:
The conversation naturally followed:
KP: They look like they're having fun.
RP: Yeah, the waves are good today.
KP: And see honey? That could be you one day!
RP: Yes, but where would I find a nice man like that to take me?
Wrong-o.
Last Sunday we were on a beach trail stroll and I came upon this heartwarming scene:
The conversation naturally followed:KP: They look like they're having fun.
RP: Yeah, the waves are good today.
KP: And see honey? That could be you one day!
RP: Yes, but where would I find a nice man like that to take me?
Monday, January 16, 2012
Priceless Price-ism: Bunny Edition
This week, we needed a little family time.
So we all piled in bed for a little cuddle session.
Just to remind each other how much we care.
And discuss the possibilities of rabbit stew.
So we all piled in bed for a little cuddle session.
Just to remind each other how much we care.
And discuss the possibilities of rabbit stew.
Monday, January 9, 2012
My (Gay?) Apparel
I may not be Sarah Jessica Parker, but I like to think I do alright in the style department. And, beyond spending half my paycheck at Nordstrom Rack, I enjoy mixing things up, trying new trends, and more or less annoying the (boring) pants off RP.
Before I got married, I never knew men could have such opinions. I had no idea they preferred the sleek to the frilly, the tight to the bohemian, and more of less the skin to the cloth (guess I should have seen that one coming).
That said, RP has had some intriguing comments on more than a few of my favorite pieces:
Ankle boots: RP hates them in general, but his true nemesis is a pair of tan suede western-style booties that reside in my closet.
RP: “Are you going to work?”
KP: “Yeah, where else would I go?”
RP: “I don’t know... to herd cattle? Or fall in love with the son of a preacher man?”
Silk pleated pants:
RP: “Are those new?”
KP: “Yeah, I got a great deal on them. They’re Theory and I’ve been looking for some for a while and then I went---“
RP: “Were they having a sale because Michael Jackson died and took the style with him?”
Dolman Sleeves (in general):
RP: “That shirt is interesting.”
KP: “Interesting?”
RP: “Have you ever seen those guys who jump from planes and kind of sail down mountainsides? You kind of look like that.”
Black Ruffled Dress/Over-the-Knee Riding Boots
RP: "Those your new boots?"
KP: "Yes, I LOVE Pour la Victoire. Plus they're -- "
RP: "You could be in a Harry Potter movie."
KP: "Excuse me?"
RP: "You've got your ruffles and your riding boots. Such a cute little wizard."
KP: "Wizard?"
RP: "Or witch?"
Heaven help me (and my closet).
Before I got married, I never knew men could have such opinions. I had no idea they preferred the sleek to the frilly, the tight to the bohemian, and more of less the skin to the cloth (guess I should have seen that one coming).
That said, RP has had some intriguing comments on more than a few of my favorite pieces:
Ankle boots: RP hates them in general, but his true nemesis is a pair of tan suede western-style booties that reside in my closet.
RP: “Are you going to work?”
KP: “Yeah, where else would I go?”
RP: “I don’t know... to herd cattle? Or fall in love with the son of a preacher man?”
Silk pleated pants:
RP: “Are those new?”
KP: “Yeah, I got a great deal on them. They’re Theory and I’ve been looking for some for a while and then I went---“
RP: “Were they having a sale because Michael Jackson died and took the style with him?”
Dolman Sleeves (in general):
RP: “That shirt is interesting.”
KP: “Interesting?”
RP: “Have you ever seen those guys who jump from planes and kind of sail down mountainsides? You kind of look like that.”
Black Ruffled Dress/Over-the-Knee Riding Boots
RP: "Those your new boots?"
KP: "Yes, I LOVE Pour la Victoire. Plus they're -- "
RP: "You could be in a Harry Potter movie."
KP: "Excuse me?"
RP: "You've got your ruffles and your riding boots. Such a cute little wizard."
KP: "Wizard?"
RP: "Or witch?"
Heaven help me (and my closet).
Friday, January 6, 2012
Fiscal Responsibility (and other misfortunes)
Sure, RP and I have all sorts of compatibility: common religion, similar family background, mutual physical attraction, shared disdain for Hummer-driving douchebags… need I go on?
All that aside, we seem to have very different financial ideals.
In 2011, we perfected the art of compromise to determine a family budget (a feat similar to the Geneva Convention). One caveat to our budget negotiation was the understanding that both of us would receive a certain allotment of “personal” money each month.
Personal money – noun, plural: Buy whatever you want and your spouse can’t complain, regardless of how many pairs of boots you already have.
Now, regarding our personal money, RP and I differ. To say the least.
Give us both a dollar bill and we have radically dissimilar tendencies. To help explain, I’ve created the following charts (click for detail).
All that aside, we seem to have very different financial ideals.
In 2011, we perfected the art of compromise to determine a family budget (a feat similar to the Geneva Convention). One caveat to our budget negotiation was the understanding that both of us would receive a certain allotment of “personal” money each month.
Personal money – noun, plural: Buy whatever you want and your spouse can’t complain, regardless of how many pairs of boots you already have.
Now, regarding our personal money, RP and I differ. To say the least.
Give us both a dollar bill and we have radically dissimilar tendencies. To help explain, I’ve created the following charts (click for detail).
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
You, Me, and Bunny Makes Three
This new year, RP and I wouldn’t hear of singing, “Should auld acquaintance be forgot,” because we still had one particular acquaintance on the brain: Suli, the ill-sighted San Diegan bunny.
So, throwing caution and the need for perfect vision to the wind, RP and I spent New Year’s Eve back in San Diego adopting our newest addition:
Meet Sadie Doe Price (the rabbit formerly known as Suli).
RP (heretofore known as ‘Papa Bunny’) spent the next two days making sure the apple—er, carrot—of his eye had all the comforts she needed – hay, pellets, perfectly-sized litter box (it took three attempts), dried mangos, hearts of romaine, he even built her a custom “second story” shelf for her cage.
All of this fussing elicited little to no response from Sadie.
Nonetheless, things around the Price house have gotten quite…. interesting. A fly on the wall of our apartment may, in fact, overhear any of the following statements:
“I don’t understand what the big deal is – we’re just a man and his rabbit.”
“Do you ever feel like all we talk about anymore is the bunny?”
“Honey, I think she’s using me for mangos.”
“So help me, if that thing leaves one more poop NOT in her litter box, I’m serving her in stew.”
“Honey, would you mind coming in here and helping me bond with this bunny?”
“Why wouldn’t she trust me? I trust me.”
“If she were a dog she’d be all over us right now.”
“I didn’t feed her enough. This is like being 13 all over again.”
“I think she’d be more interested in us if she were less interested in lettuce.”
“I feel like she was deceitful in the shelter with all her ‘oooh, pet me, pet me’ antics.”
“I think you feel like your bunny is different than all other bunnies.”
“She is.”
Complaints aside, we (read: RP) couldn’t be happier with our newest furry friend. She’s allowed us a taste of responsibility while still enabling us to leave her for hours at a time with only a heart of romaine for company.
Welcome to the family, Sadie dear.
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