Regardless, a new wife is exactly what I am, which feels like it should mark some sort of magical transition from a semi-intoxicated twenty-something playing house to a demure, poised, meticulous Mistress of the Home.
The house is undoubtedly stunning. The setting is undoubtedly suburban, but my skills? Weeeellllll those might leave something to be desired.
It's ok though. The last ten years have seen me flitting about in multiple roles, New England Co-ed, Brooklyn indie-rock queen, coach, Seattle-ite, Board Member, Vice President... even a return to my inherently horsey roots with a few wayward purchases of some horses again...
All wonderfully entertaining roles, but none are particularly helpful for honing those ever elusive housewife skills.
One of my dearest friends recently found herself
That's why, when The Boy and I made our mostly voluntary pilgrimage to the suburbs, I vowed to make every attempt to extend my hostess and homemaking skills beyond an impeccably prepared cheese plate (one thing I actually have down) and a 4 month supply of ramen.
This is my attempt to chronicle my progress, failures and general frustrations in the home.
I think I made a good bride... here's hoping my luck continues..