dianaschnuth

Have I mentioned how lucky I am to be in such a loving and trusting relationship? Have I told teh intarweb lately how much I love my husband?

*sucks in a deep breath*

I LOVE THIS MAN.

Not for any reason in particular do I bring this up today. I was just thinking about us, after reading about and thinking about some of my friends’ failed and failing relationships. That, and I found a draft copy of our wedding vows (and some leftover wedding programs) as I was cleaning this evening:

I Aaron/Diana take Diana/Aaron to be my Honey Muffin (husband) / Boobie Doobie (wife) and to:

• trust each other and be trustworthy
• support one another in our worldly endeavors
• continue to share our thoughts and feelings, our hopes and desires
• and to love and cherish each other for the rest of our lives.

We have a really awesome relationship, and I count myself very, very lucky to be with Aaron.

This sounds like I’m patting myself on the back for being so cool in light of my friends’ relationship problems. That’s not how I mean it; this is more of a counting-my-blessings sort of feeling. Also, I feel genuinely sorry for my friends who don’t have this kind of relationship. One friend is coming to the end of a long, strange relationship and forging ahead in a better one. Another friend discovered that their spouse had posted a profile online at Match.com, claiming to be separated and looking for romance. Still others seem to be happy, I guess, but it’s hard to tell for sure.

We’re best friends, Aaron and I, and we like many of the same things. We do have our differences, though, and some of them are major parts of our lives. (Aaron, for instance, is not any kind of drum corps enthusiast. I, on the other hand, can’t STAND the Evil Dead movies I’ve seen.) But we’re OK with that. I go off for drum corps rehearsals and performances every other weekend, and he deals. He’s going off for a male bonding weekend up at Hemlock Lake this Saturday, and I’m perfectly OK with that (especially after all my drum corps trips). I’m happy to give him all the time he can spend with his friends, given that they hardly want to hang out anymore (due to wives, kids, and general lameness).

In conclusion, let me share some photos of where Aaron’s going this weekend. I went there with him and his friend Kris and Kris’s wife back in July 2002. It was a great time… until Kris’s wife and I got horribly sunburned and we had to leave a little early. Behold:

Click the last photo to see myself and Kris’s wife in all our sunburnt glory.

At any rate, I leave you with this paraphrased bit of advice I recall from my old buddy Timmay: If you’re in a relationship, and it’s not making you happy, then get out. Why are you spending your life with someone, if not to be happy with them? Life is too short to stay miserable.

Life is too short. Go be happy.

I am in a seriously funky depressed mood this evening. I have so many things I want to get done, but I can’t get motivated to make myself do them, which makes me more depressed and down on myself, and the cycle continues.

Then I think that writing about it on my blog will make the funk go away… but it doesn’t. It doesn’t work as the instant quick fix I sometimes think it should. This isn’t like IM or a phone call — there’s no instant connection with another human being, no actual real-time communication going on. Nothing to make me feel less blah.

I hate these moods. The objective, detached part of me looks from the outside in and says, “You know, Diana, if you’d just DO something, anything, you’d probably shake this thing. Just get the fuck over yourself and your weird depression and get on with it.” That makes the rest of me feel worse about my depression and my general sloth and sinks me deeper into it.

At least this doesn’t happen very much anymore. I seem to recall being like this frequently during middle school and high school, although I could be misremembering how depressed I really was. I know it felt pretty massive at the time.

Sometimes I think these off-the-cuff, unplanned and unscripted blog entries are what keeps my blog fresh and uniquely me. Then sometimes I think that my readership (and I’m averaging 40 hits a day, I think) really doesn’t give a rat’s ass about how depressed I am or how frumpy I feel or any other superficial crap. Where’s the pictures and the amusing anecdotes and the links to t-shirt surgeries and Totoro and weird Mormon crap and whatever else people Googled today?

I think I’m gonna go play some Civ III.

*contemplates deleting this entry*
*decides to keep it for posterity*