Crap, I'm a Grown Up

Obviously, this is my first post.  It seemed like a good time to start since my husband and I just bought a house.  This blog is about living life as a married twenty something who constantly wonders how to be a grown up and also why her husband is just so weird.  If our life was compared to a sitcom then it would definitely be Everyone Loves Raymond.  I hope my blog is funnier and I apologize profusely if it isn't.  Luckily, this blog won't constantly run in reruns and take over your television set at least five times a week. 

The characters in this blog will be myself (Annie) and my husband Warren.  Neither of these are our real names but I need to change them to protect us and our sanity.  I have a big mouth and I need to stay away from the inevitable TMI that could ruin our marriage.  Besides, Warren is quite sensitive.  Sometimes, I wonder why I am the man in the relationship.  See?  It's starting already.  As mentioned, we just bought a house so this blog will cover the trials and tribulations of homeownership.  But mostly, it will discuss the modern marriage.

Speaking of modern marriage, I only call myself Semidomestic because really I don't know what I am doing.  I now have a house so I assume that makes me domesticated by default.  The other day Warren said to me, "Why do you want to be a housewife?  You hate to cook and clean."  He makes a good point.  I do hate all of those things.  Let me stop here to say that if you're looking to this blog as being a place to recommend the latest in Etsy macrame blankets or whatever then this is not the blog for you.  I hate home made things.  I hate leftovers.  I even hate eating things from my own pantry because I feel like it's just some crap I found lying around the house.  Doesn't sound too appealing when you look at it from that perspective; does it?  Warren, on the other hand, thinks that soup or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is a wonderful meal.  You'd think that would make me happy because he sounds so easy to please, but really?  Soup from a can?  Am I sick?  Because that's the only time I ever ate that greasy noodle soup with small squares of "chicken" in it.

I am not a snob, I promise.  I am just opinionated.  The really funny thing is that between my husband and me, he's the one who is high maintenance.  I am going to end this blog here so I don't go on and on and get boring.  Besides, I have a lot of packing and moving to do tomorrow while Warren is at work.  He packed up his car and then told me I could pack anything I wanted in my car and take it to the house.  Oh goody, he gave me permission for manual labor.  What a doll.  This reminds me, you will not hear me refer to him as DH for Darling Hubby or whatever those Knot girls call their men.  I've read those posts and they make me want to barf.  I especially loved one in which a girl was angry that her fiance went to a strip club.  All of the women who responded said, "Well, I know that really must have hurt.  I don't know from experience though because DH and I both think strip clubs are disgusting."  How convenient that every single one of them were marrying/married to men who didn't like strip clubs. 

This is why I want to write my blog.  To be honest.  To tell what it's really like to be married.  Sometimes, I feel like the worst wife in the world because I don't know what the hell I am doing.  The first month we were married, I cried in the closet because he arranges his polo shirts by color and I will never, ever remember to do that.  Or even care to do that.  Just care enough to cry about it.