Urban White Trash: My Husband Wants to Eat Rocks, and I'm Not Sure I ...

Urban White Trash: My Husband Wants to Eat Rocks, and I'm Not Sure I ...: The Dogwood Festival is an annual conglomeration of both the dregs and anomalies of the locals around here.  Women walk around with sl...

Urban White Trash: Why James Is Not Allowed Near Fish Tanks Anymore

Urban White Trash: Why James Is Not Allowed Near Fish Tanks Anymore: Typical pillow talk between my (completely lucid, sober) husband and (completely lucid, sober) me. James: I'm amazed that humanity hasn't...

Urban White Trash: I have "Certigo". Trust me, it's a thing.

Urban White Trash: I have "Certigo". Trust me, it's a thing.: Typical bedtime conversation: Me: James, scoot over. You're making the bed sink in the middle. James: Jessa, I'm concerned. You think th...

I have "Certigo". Trust me, it's a thing.

Typical bedtime conversation:

Me: James, scoot over. You're making the bed sink in the middle.

James: Jessa, I'm concerned. You think that about all beds.

Me: No I don't.

James: Yes, you do. I think you have reverse vertigo. You have...certigo.

Me: That's not a thing.

James: It's a thing. It's logical. Like a bird hitting you in the face.

Me: How is a bird hitting me in the face logical?

James: Because they are either flying really slow or you are going really fast and deserve to get fowlly-smacked. Don't question this.

[I shove his back and pull the blankets]

Me: Move over!

James [yelling]: You're not my real mom!

Well, I do kinda look like her

James walked out of the bathroom after I begged him to shave his still-in-the-works goatee.

James: How do you like it?

Me: Why do you have a Hitler-mustache?

James: I thought it looked sophisticated.

Me: Sophisticated? No. Historically offensive? Yes.

James: Let me keep it while I play Age of Empires with Ricky.

Me: So…you want to wear a Hitler molestache while invading and conquering other civilizations?

James: There is nothing wrong with my plan.

Me: Shave it off.

James: This makes you Eva Longoria!

Me: I think you mean Eva Braun.

James: Wait…which is which?

Me: One is a hot TV celeb with implants, and the other was Hitler’s suicide buddy.

James: You’re Eva Braun, then. I’ll bet she was hot, like you. So it’s appropriate.

Me: Sweetie, none of this is appropriate. Shave. It. Off.

James [running downstairs and yelling]: No! I will take over Russia!

Me [yelling after him]: It didn’t work for Napoleon or Hitler, so it won’t work for you!

James ended up shaving the molestache off, but claims that I now owe him Poland or some country equivalent to Poland. I told him he could have Zoloft and Diet Coke. He settled for the coke. 

Why I Go Home for Lunch

Recently, I've been going home for lunch rather than spending the hour in my office. Today, James and I started discussing...I forget what....but it it ended like this: 

James: Listen, 90% of people lie about not having sex before marriage. I’m just saying that most people aren't in the 1%.

Me: You’re missing 9% there, Champ.

James: No I’m not. The other 9% have no libido. They’re old.

Me: Hey! Old people can get funky.

James: You...are disturbing.

Me: What about Abraham and Sarah?

James: Abraham got a bullet in the head while watching a play, Jessa. He had lead poisoning, which is why he could't have kids.

[I get up to leave]

James [shouting]: That's right! Run from my logic, woman. Run!

365 Days Later

For our one-year anniversary, James and I decided that instead of spending money we would simply enjoy the day together. Seeing as we had no money to spend, our decision was more of a necessity than a choice…but it felt like a choice.

It’s like when teachers tell the kids that they can either do their math lessons first, and then clean out the hamster cage, or they can clean the hamster cage then learn math.

Either way, someone has to pick up tiny hamster poop.

My father recently gave me a beautiful, leather-bound journal. In it, James and I have started (what I hope will be) a tradition.

Each year, we will write three new things that we’ve learned about the other person.

I wrote:

Dearest James,

Over this past year, I have learned that:

• You hate it when I pee with the door open. 
• You have a deep-seated ambition that comes out when you have projects you are passionate about, like your business.
• The more tired you are, the funnier our conversations are.

Love, 

Your Wife

My other half wrote:

Dear Wifey,

• Whenever you are sleeping, some part of you has to be touching some part of me.
• You hate shrimp, pineapple and it has to be completely dark when you are sleeping.
• Your handwriting is better than mine. 

The end.

Later that day he handed me a stack of index cards. Each was a coupon of some sort, and each had some sort of caveat.

Card 1: Rub your feet (Only for as long as I can)

Card 2: Do the dishes (how I want to)

Card 3: Can I get a fish tank?

Card 4: Because I’ll take care of it and I used to have one and it was cool and I’ll take good care of it I promise.

Card 5: One hour of swing dancing lessons.

Card 6: One free beer-run (If I have money)

Card 7: One free “I’ll-Watch-A-Chick-Flick-With-You” (No Nicholas Cage or Sandra Bullock)

Card 8: One free fancy dinner (If I don’t have money I can make it)

Card 9: Um….can I please have a fish tank?

Rules are a weak man's escape

Ever read the book “I Kissed Dating Goodbye”?

I did, and I couldn’t put it down; instead, I threw it across the room.

With force.

I read it to understand the following it had generated, a following of mostly church-going/conservative/homeschooled families; a following which hailed the book as the Mecca for all dating standards; a following delighted to swallow and ingest its contents.

But I gagged.

Something pulled at my peripheral, itched under my skin. The mantra felt familiar, regurgitated and re-labeled. 

Dating was now called “courting”, but with more rules.

No kissing.

Group dates.

Marriage is the end goal.

Emotional purity.

Rules.

Rules.

Rules.

“I Kissed Dating Goodbye” is based off the premise (paraphrased):

I dated and got hurt.

I dated and got hurt.

I dated and got hurt.

Dating hurts.

Therefore, I won’t date.

The author works off a false premise. It's like saying "Guns kill people." We all know that guns don't kill people; people kill people. 

Dating is the same: Dating does not hurt people. People dating in irresponsible ways, without boundaries, is what hurts people. 

Emotional purity may as well be called “boundaries”. Boundaries free the individual from the legality of rules and puts responsibility on the shoulder of those in the relationship, rather than forcing them to rely on a doctrine or mandate.

Example:

Rule - I won’t ever be alone in a room with a member of the opposite sex.

Boundary: I know that being in the same room alone with a guy can sometimes lead to intimate conversations and create emotional ties. I’m not willing to take on the responsibility of such emotions/ties and so choose not to put myself in that situation.

Rule – No holding hands till engagement.

Boundary – I know that I respond to physical touch, and that emotional ties can intensify my reaction. Because I want to take this relationship slowly (and in order to do so), I choose not to hold hands or initiate other physical contact until there is deeper commitment.

Rules beget legalism.

Legalism begets guilt.

And guilt, true to its nature, is necrotic.

 It’s easy to obey rules. Boundaries, however, require:

• an individual to take responsibility for their own actions.
• knowledge of personality weaknesses, strengths. 
• conviction of personal values.
• accountability from both members in the relationship.
• open communication.
• a peer group that can keep you strong and supported.
• consequences if boundaries are crossed.
• self-restraint.
• actions to be based off knowledge of what is best, not what is easiest.

So, it's not about rules. It's about knowing self-restraint and creating boundaries not out of guilt, but out of a desire for a healthy relationship. Whether you personally call that "emotional purity", "courting", "dating" or "shmulting"....doesn't matter.

Do it out of knowledge, not guilt.

*end of rant

*Note: I do not hate the book "I Kissed Dating Goodbye." It bothers me that the book, and other religious dating books like it, are many times unquestioned and hailed as truth where, I feel, they should not be. It bothers me that critical thinking is often starved under such truths.