Sunday, January 29, 2012

The Sunday Ritual

Quick wedding update: We have officially reached the less than 3 months category. The only things we don't have right now are plans for the engagement shoot (which we want to do mid-late March anyway), flowers (ya, I'm bad), or a DJ. I'll get these taken care of... you know, at some point. And if not... oh well.

We're well beyond starting to learn the things that drive the other crazy. We both knew it would happen. I mean, I came from a politically correct Baptist upbringing (and was rather liberal growing up until high school, a couple of years before becoming Catholic), and he has always been a nerdy intellectual and coming from at least a cultural Catholic family. My family heritage/traditions can best be described as American because much of my ancestry was involved in the American Revolt in the 1770's (I'm not Americanist, can you tell?), and no one has been here less than 100 years. In other words, we're rather Protestant in upbringing and hold no cultural ties outside of America. However, if I had to point to a My family is more German in their traditions than anything else. James is Italian. Is there anything else that needs to be said?

On a typical Sunday when I was growing up, my family would go to church, come home, change out of our good clothes (it would be better if more Catholics had good clothes to change out of), and eat. We eat a rather large meal after church. Usually, my Daddy would go to the earlier service, so that dinner (the only day of the week dinner is for lunch... my family was raised in Texas) was ready when my mom and I got back from church. We would have a large meal that would almost always sit at the table for. The exceptions would be if we all sat at the TV to watch a game or just plan didn't feel up to the task of clearing off the table. This meal would be rather large. After dinner we'd do whatever we wanted, usually in seclusion. Later, we would one by one trickle off to bed for our afternoon nap. While someone else is napping, everyone else in the house talk at a whisper. The TV is down several notches, even if people are sleeping on a different floor. I don't know why this was an unspoken tradition. It just was. I rarely nap, but I do on Sundays more than any other day.  Perhaps it's because it's the whole day of rest thing.  For dinner dinner we would eat leftovers from the earlier meal if we ate at all. We'd eat separately, of course.

James and I came to my apartment after Mass today and he had told me that he was making the rest of the ravioli with sauce for dinner. I'm like, yay. I come into the kitchen to see him frying up bacon. "I thought you said we were having ravioli!" I said. "Ya, for dinner!" Ugh. So I told him I can't eat any more bacon because my stomach has been sensitive to fats lately, and he said he was making eggs, too. I don't like eggs. So I'm not eating until he makes dinner dinner. I'm rather hungry now. He says he wont start dinner until he's hungry... I'm about to die. I had nothing but carbs and fats this morning (bagel with cream cheese) and I'm dying. I explained to him that we're both going to need to give a little with this because I can't handle something like this happening every week. This is the third week in a row that something has happened like this, and I finally realized that it's because of my upbringing that I think it's INSANE to cook two meals on a Sunday. Why don't I just make myself a snack? Well, I'm trying to be more health conscious and all the snacks I could eat are empty carbs which make me feel awful later (I've also officially reached the 'overweight'category for the first time in my life and I think I'm going to die). I absolutely refuse to put the effort of cooking meat (which I really need right now), and I'm tired and grumpy at James.

Speaking of grumpy at James, he tells me that I'm not allowed to have my Sunday nap. And I'm like, say what now? I'm gonna take a nap whenever I feel like I need one which is going to be most Sundays. He says it's not leisurely enough, and I think he's full of sh*t (to those of you who are offended with VERY occasional language... you really shouldn't be reading my blog). I mean, seriously, how can you be doing LESS than when you're sleeping? I mean, duh. And today I took a nap, which he KNEW I didn't get much sleep last night, and he start yelling at his mother on the phone (he thinks that's a normal tone for phone conversations... or often in regular ones) in the other room. I'm so irritated about this. HE KNOWS I WAKE UP TO EVERYTHING! He should know that I get deeply offended when people wake me up due to lack of courtesy. I'm actually about to cry because of this. In college I would wake up sometimes by people walking down the hall outside of my room... I had to switch from a conventional alarm clock to my cell phone because everything else is too loud and shocks my nerves when it goes off (I get physically sick from that shock, btw). I told James that when he comes in my room to wake me up from a nap, he has to turn the doorknob gentler because it is loud and shocks me awake. And he thinks he can just go on shouting in the other room??? Man, he's so oblivious sometimes.

I think I'm going to try and go back to sleep because I'm tired and hungry, but too tired and hungry to make something for myself.

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