Jane Fearnley-Whittingstall has been married to her husband, Rob, for 47 happy years. In a world where half of all marriages end in divorce, she thinks she has a few secrets to making a relationship survive the inevitable bumps in a road. After the jump, check out a few of those secrets, which she shared in today’s Daily Mail. Keep reading »
I love my husband. He’s a fantastic gent who makes swoon-worthy stuffed french toast, fixes my bicycle when it breaks down, and plus he loves me and stuff. But, when there’s a new tech update, I shudder. It’s a reflex. If only Steve Jobs could see what he did to me last night at the bar … Keep reading »
Since I already posted an epic save-the-date video today, I thought it fitting to share an epic marriage proposal story to carry on the theme. Actually, this happens to be two stories in one. The guy, you see, a professional illustrator, spent eight months searching for the perfect engagement ring (a “100 year old brass ring with an art nouveau design carved into a piece of red coral”), and then proposed to his girlfriend by writing and illustrating a “magical little story for her that revolved around a story of the ring.” He created 22 drawings, secretly working on them for two weeks, and pasted them into a large antique book in which he was able to actually hide the engagement ring in a secret flap. On New Year’s Day, he presented the book to his girlfriend. Keep reading »
Cathy Torkelson, 34, had a good job as a legal consultant, a loving boyfriend and supportive friends and family. She was a good girlfriend in what appeared to be a solid year-and-a-half-long relationship. Yet, internally, Cathy was anxious, irritable, moody and unable to concentrate. The cause? A persistent question: why hasn’t he proposed?
Torkelson’s questioning became “all-consuming,” and eventually turned a normally independent, rational woman into a nervous wreck. Keep reading »
This Sunday marks six months since I got hitched, and I hope this doesn’t sound all braggy, but man, these last few months have been good ones. I love being married! Even more than I thought I would. That’s not to say I didn’t imagine it would be great; I just wasn’t expecting it to be so much better than simply living together, like we had been for a year and half before we tied the knot. For us, there’s a deeper commitment now, a stability that wasn’t quite as acute before; we’re closer, we’re family now. But with all that comes added pressure and expectations. And nowhere is that more apparent for me than our sex life. Keep reading »
It is now an entrenched cultural truth: A desirable woman in her 30s could meet someone, date for a while, enter a relationship, spend Thanksgiving at her boyfriend’s parents’ house, rent an apartment together, adopt a pet, wash his skivvies for years and still: Long-term commitment is not guaranteed.
Don’t you hate it when you read something written by someone you’ve never met, yet it sounds like they are writing about YOU? I’m sure I’m not the only woman who had that weird feeling of being watched when reading Irina Aleksander’s article in The New York Observer entitled “Want a Husband? Try a Eur-Male Pass.” After all, there’s no way I’m the only 30-year-old who met a man, dated him for 4.5 years, spent countless holidays with his family, lived with him, adopted a dog with him, and did his laundry before being unceremoniously dumped (for someone younger and probably more willing to have anal sex).
So did the real crux of Aleksander’s piece — that more and more American women are moving abroad to find Mr. Right — speak to me too? Keep reading »
We took down the Christmas tree this week, along with all our holiday stuff (a penguin with a Christmas hat, a reindeer doing a split), which means the holidays are officially over.
The visit with the FIL (future in-laws) over Christmas went well for the most part, if you discount the fact that Future Husband and I both ended up in the Urgent Care center. Before we left for Ohio, FH had a 102 temperature. It was better the next day so we decided to make the drive up there, but he just never felt 100%. Then I came down with a tonsil infection … before you knew it, we were being seen by a tiny Indian doctor who thankfully prescribed us some antibiotics. Keep reading »