99 Days

I dropped Bob off at LAX last night. The week went way too fast, and it was painful to have to work while he was home. When we talk to people about our long-distance relationship, we usually say that it's been easier than we expected, and the first year was especially fast. As I am sitting here to write about it, though, I have to admit that it's beginning to get to me. I hate my empty bed. I hate coming home to an empty house and spending most evenings alone. I hate that weeks go by and I'll realize that I haven't been touched affectionately. And I'm not even talking about sex; I just mean the stupid little touches that I think people need. I'm like that baby monkey with the wire mother.

It will get better soon, though! He will be in Los Angeles in July for one rotation, and then he'll do most of his other rotations in San Diego. I will never have to spend a Thanksgiving in Erie, Pennsylvania! This is definitely good. I will also say that there have been some other positive things to come out of the long-distance relationship. First, when he's a resident and never home, at least I will be able to look back at this time and know that it could be much, much worse. Bob has also been able to see some of his old friends a lot more. A friend from high school lives in Colorado, and Bob gets to see him when he drives back and forth from school each summer and fall. There's also a friend from college who lives in Cleveland that Bob gets to see much more frequently. Both guys are groomsmen, and I really like them and their wives. I am glad that Bob has such great friends who have become my friends, too. Finally, there's book club. My book club is great! I got to a point about a year ago when I knew I needed to go find something to do with myself on weeknights or I would become a cat lady. Anyway, we meet twice a month, and there's an offshoot dinner club that meets about twice a month, and I've made some really good friends. I haven't really formed any non-work relationships since college, and it was really getting to me.

Anyway, I started this post to reflect upon the fact that we will be getting married in 99 days. This is very exciting, but also kind of scary. It blows my mind that we've already been together five years, and I am happy to be spending the rest of my life with the guy. Still, I know that many marriages don't work out. It's weird to think that the person I adore now and agonize over being separated from might someday be someone I hate. I realize this is a pessimistic view, but I think it's naive to go into marriage without thinking it's a possibility. We know that marriage is not going to be easy, and ours will be especially challenging. We basically acknowledge that I will be alone with babies, possibly in a state where I know no one. This is terrifying! To this end, we have promised each other that we will go to counseling the second we feel that we're drifting, and we will not live out the plot of Angle of Repose. Also, Bob is great about managing time. I know that he may be super busy, but when he does have time, it will go to me. So yes, I'm nervous, but I'm also really, really excited. So excited that I may or may not wear my wedding band around the house. I'm not saying.

Brussels sprouts???? Brussels sprouts!!!!!!!!

It will probably come as no surprise to most people that I don't like vegetables. But you probably don't understand the deep, searing, white-hot hate I have for vegetables. I hate them. Let me say it again: I hate them. I would rather eat my own face than most vegetables. True story. Bob and I were talking about it (he's in town! Yay!), and we think it probably has a lot to do with the vegetables I ate while I was growing up. The thing is, aside from White People Salad (iceberg lettuce with ranch dressing), I seem to remember them all coming from cans. Ugh. Canned, salty S&W string beans were the bane of my existence, and a big reason I am veggie-resistant to this day. Oh, and that corn, peas, and carrots frozen stuff. Yeck. Aside from less-than-savory childhood options, I also have to say that I am a texture eater. There are whole groups of food I can't (notice I didn't say won't! I mean CAN'T) eat-- eggs, guacamole, and bananas are soft foods I hate. Celery, carrots, and beets are crunchy things that gross me out. Combine all this with the year I spent in Ireland, where we ate hastily cooked veggies 6 days a week, and you will begin to understand my feelings toward all things green.

In our five years together, though, Bob has gotten me to accept some vegetables. I will eat asparagus without too much complaining. I throw hand fulls of spinach into my morning smoothie every day. I have slices of red bell pepper (but never green!) with turkey for lunch most days. I really liked the roasted cauliflower with sage salt and lemon brown butter we had two Thanksgivings ago. Brussels sprouts, however, were something I was getting nowhere near. I hate Brussels sprouts! I don't like how they taste or how they feel in my mouth. And, I'll be honest, I think they smell like farts. There, I said it.

But how things have changed. Why? Because of this recipe. Oh my sweet baby Jesus, guys. I love Brussels sprouts!!!!

They still kind of smell like farts, though.