A collection of grievances, memories, occasional musings, and everyday happenings


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Try Chasing a Hairdryer

I’m beginning to understand why parents tend to “strongly advise” their children to wait to get married until after college, or at least till it’s mostly over.  Sometimes I come home from school or work, and can’t decide whether or not to make dinner, finish my homework, try cleaning the living room (again), or start on Thank You notes.  After much deliberation, I usually end up picking up one or two things that don’t belong in the living room, throw something in the oven before Will gets home, do a little of my homework, then when Will does get home, we crash on the couch and watch Scrubs on Netflix.

*Note: Current Scrubs crush:


I know, I know.  He’s no Johnny Depp or Matt Damon by any means.  I don’t know why I have a crush on him.  I think it’s the way he talks.  Anyway, it’s okay because Will has a crush on Carla:

Carla is probably more obviously attractive… But at least we both have crushes.  So we’re even.

Today is my day off and I’ve spent it productively.  Our bedroom is clean and waiting to be vacuumed.  The kitchen is clean and waiting to be scrubbed.  The bathroom is clean and also waiting to be scrubbed.  And, turns out we’ve had a living room all along – it’s close to being clean and will then be waiting to be vacuumed.  Hallelujah!  We knew we were living in an apartment, we just haven’t been able to locate it.  But now presents have been put in their place, boxes are out in the trash, and most of our pictures are hung.

Will and I have been asking each other every so often if it’s hit us yet that we’re actually married.  We haven’t had much of an opportunity to say, Hi!  This is my husband, Will/wife, Holly, so it still hasn’t quite sunk in.  Plus I’m still working on my Kooi signature – it’s getting better, and I really enjoy dotting the ‘i’ with a heart.  I can’t help myself.

Sleeping is another issue.  Back home, I had a comfy, cozy, giant queen bed to myself – free to sleep sideways, upside down, or however I pleased.  When I got to OC, I had to downgrade to a twin, but managed alright for three years.  Then this past year, Erica and I pushed our twin beds together, creating a queen, sort of.  And despite Erica’s occasional rumbling and tumbling over to my side and talking in her sleep, it wasn’t enough to prepare me for having a permanent bedmate.  For the past two weeks, one or both of us has woken up in the middle of the night.  Example: Two nights ago, I sat up in bed and barely recall stretching out my arms.  This frightened Will and he sat up too, wanting to know what on earth was the matter.  I giggled, told him I was dreaming, then rolled back over and went to sleep.  The dream I was having was about a small black and white bunny stuck in my mom’s hairdryer, and I was trying to get it out, but it kept hopping away, so all I could see was a bouncing hairdryer heading down a hallway.  You know you wouldn’t sleep well either if you were trying to catch a bunny inside a hairdryer all night long.  It’s exhausting work.


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Welcome, Koois

It still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that I’m a wife – Will’s wife.  And Will is my husband.  Wife, husband – the words sound odd and foreign.  It’s almost as if we’re in a play, and the director said, “OK Holly you will be playing the…..wife, and Will, you will be playing her husband.  Here are your wedding bands that you will wear for the remainder of the time.  Put them on, OK perfect.  Everybody ready?  Aaaand…. Action.”

Of course there have been clues along the way which have lead us to believe this is in fact not a play:

  • Will is always next to me when I wake up (Did you know he sleeps in a ball?)
  • What is bathroom etiquette?
  • We can do that?

I guess actors and actresses can experience the same type of “clues” in a play (bullets #2 and #3), but that would be a play in which I would have zero interest in seeing.  Gross.

Our honeymoon was a blast.  So much of a blast, that I highly recommend each one of you get married and honeymoon at El Dorado Casitas Royale.  The people there are wonderful, the food is amazing, and occasionally you hear “…Who’s that cat who won’t cop out when there’s danger all about?  *Shaft!*  Right on…” during lunch by the pool.  Actually, that last point was not by any means a plus, and we heard some extremely interesting song covers during our stay.  The covers were so badly done that I wouldn’t even call them covers.  Paradise City, I Shot the Sheriff, Yesterday, and Money were some of the songs that were atrociously violated.  Do you know how difficult it is to eat breakfast while some jazz singer girl is singing I Shot the Sheriff in her “slow and sexy” voice?  The breakfast is great, but your ears will cry for dear mercy.

Alas, my husband and I have returned to reality and Ramen noodles.  We’re getting better though.  Saturday was dedicated to gift openings and necessities shopping.  It was also dedicated to creating Avatars on our Kinect.  Will’s Avatar name is AlexSupertramp1 and mine is mrssupertramp1 (Read Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer).  I told Will that I was fine with his name being AlexSupertramp1 as long as he didn’t do any of the things that Alex Supertramp did (Note: Into the Wild :Death by moldy potato seeds).

Sunday and Monday will be written about on a later day (tomorrow).