Non-DomestiGal Duties

Jen dear,

A belated Happy Birthday to you from the rest of the DomestiGal community! What did you do on your blessed day aside from study your heart out? Did you do some super nerdy statistics calculation of your various diamond-engagement-ring-of-dreams pricing and actual diamond composition using Linear Regression?

I mean, I do hope you took the following into account:

• the interpretation of the slope as the average imputed value per carat of diamonds within the specific range;
• the viability of the SLR model as determined by the R² value and the slope coefficient;
  
• the regression fit for determining the price of diamond rings within this range.

Sigh.

Asian DomestiGals and their damn math.

Anyway, perhaps you can do more fun statistical models that include your Dyson and the percentage body fat that Colossus pinches every single time he humiliates the fat around your knee.

By the way, now that you're not in London and doing your dutiful Lady of Leisure duties you so enjoy -- who is? Is The Lawyer vacuuming and cleaning and washing?

The Doctor recently bought a Dirt Devil and I must say that it has become one of his best friends. Of course I'm not even quite sure how it works, as I'm Dish Woman and only handle items on kitchen counters. Recently, though, The Doctor has been flexing his green thumb and has added a collection of three more plants to our indoor urban garden. I think it's all in preparation for our beehive and I'm excitedly preparing our Bee Blog.

Stay tuned, ladies!

xx,
s.

Ex-Homemaker Seeks Solace

Hello Sue!

So I am horrified to report that I will be slaving away to complete - and possibly, very possibly, even pass - a business statistics exam today. How heinous is that? Makes me long for my Domestic Goddess days more than ever...

Speaking of which, check out the fab tea towel I spotted this past weekend at this A to the Dorable store in London called Emma Bridgewater:

Do you love it or do you LOVE it?

But I didn't buy it. I just stared longingly and snapped that quick pic with my iPhone. 

Sigh.

Is it pathetic that I miss homemaking? I mean, here I am in this worldly MBA program, surrounded by some of the brightest people I have ever encountered, and I am missing doing the dishes, doing the laundry. Not to mention my Dyson! 

Sigh.

I suppose that I long for those simpler days because MBAland could not be located at more of an opposite pole than Domestic Goddessville. And that's okay. I am a career woman, after all. (If by "career woman" I mean "wanting to make as much money as quickly as possible so I can support The Lawyer in his early retirement and raise our family and learn to make pottery and live happily ever after, Dysoning to my heart's content.") I may not rock this exam today - especially since yesterday was my birthday and really? Who studies stats on her birthday? - but I will rock this program in my own way, just as I rocked my Domestic Goddess days.

So Sue, and gals out there, please hand-wash a mug for me today. Do a load of delicates, hang them on the clothesline, and know that I would be by your side handing you your undies in a heartbeat.

With love and a brainful of statistical mush,

Jen

Home Sweet Dorm Room

Greetings, dearest Sue, from my new home!

Ah yes. Dorm Sweet Dorm.

I have now been in my new dorm room for a week, and fortunately my domestic goddessness has inspired me to make it as homey as I possibly can, considering the stained carpet, mildewy bathroom, and very white walls that we are, alas, not allowed to decorate (though I think I could get away with those cute vinyl wall decals everyone has these days - Gals in the blogosphere, any suggestions?).

So, wanna see where I live? (You know you do.) Here I am:

No, not in the church. That's the belltower that wakes me up every morning. The chalet-looking structure beneath it is my dorm. Picturesque, eh?

So, you know, it's fine. I mean, being away from The Lawyer absolutely completely totally sucks. But at the same time I know this is an important year for me, and I am determined to get as much as I can out of this program and out of my life here.

The Lawyer, for his part, has been A to the Mazing throughout all of this. He gave me a bunch of dormwarming presents, including some college paraphernalia (you know I heart paraphernalia); bridal mags for bedside reading (YES! He went out and bought me bridal mags! That is right up there with buying tampons! I am a lucky girl.); two beautiful orchids - my fave flower; and some champagne. But! The best, most amazing gift he got me is... well, see for yourself:

Aw yeah dawg! That there is a hand-held DYSON, baby! I mean does The Lawyer know me or what?

Now that I have a Dyson, this place truly feels like home.

(Just don't get me started on how gross it is sharing a kitchen with grad students...)

Ew.

LOVE!

DomestiGrad Jen

DomestiGrad Student Jen Starts School

First things first. Gals, thank you for your feedback regarding my first day of school outfit!

The winning outfit is...

Look out Blair Waldorf, Queen J is in town!

Thanks to you, I will be feeling fierce and fabulous as I enter these doors... 

... of my new business school this morning.

(Yeah, don't even get me started on the wacko color scheme.)

Ack! I'm so nervous! But I know this will be a great step for me, even if it means adding "DomestiGrad Student" to my title. Sigh. Move on over, Domestic Goddess. There's a new nerd in town.

Now that I'm abandoning my Domestic Goddessness! Nope! I cherish my Dyson too much to consider myself anything less than a DomestiGrad-Goddess hybrid. But I will miss my leisurely days of Domestic Goddessness. They already feel very far away.

What will I miss most? Thank you for asking, ladies. Let me list the ways...

1. Rotating among my warm-ups, pjs, sweats, and workout clothes. While I am ready to dress a little more formally, I will sorely miss oozing fabulosity in my Lululemon ensembles all day long.

2. Twice-weekly workouts with Colossus. More on this soon (see my post-script below)... but I will now only be seeing Colossus once a week. My butt might be grateful, but the rest of me aches with sadness (and lack of soreness).

3. Leisurely, wine-filled lunches with my newly engaged fellow lady of leisure. These lunches were my biggest indulgence these past months... and were totally, completely fabulous. I will miss them dearly. Not that I won't be drinking in the middle of the day during my MBA. But it just won't be the same.

4. Awaiting The Lawyer's return from work every night. I know this is super-cheesy and rather un-feminist of me, but the best part of each Domestic Goddess day was the return of The Lawyer from work. After all this time, and all we've been through, the sound of his key in the door still gives me butterflies.

5. Keeping up with all my Gals in the blogosphere. Rest assured, ladies, I will continue to post here all the time. And I will keep up with your blogs as best I can. There are so many amazing writers out there, and blogs chock full of inspiration for my wedding and my life - I will miss checking in every day. But I will still be around! I promise!

Ok, off to school I go. Holy crap.

BIG BIG BIG love,

DomestiGrad Jen

P.S. As mentioned above I had an AMAZING last pre-MBA workout with Colossus the other day. Will be posting about it soon. Stay tuned... you do NOT want to miss this post, trust me!

Ode to Dy

Sue,

Every trace of the teenagers is gone!  Phew!  Bless my Dyson.  My house is mine again.  Of course, that means I need to buckle down and actually be a little bit productive.  I fear, with the arrival of my pre-MBA course reading and career services preparation (that I have been informed in no subtle way is "COMPULSORY" - whoa! Settle down, folks!), that my lady of leisure days are drawing to a close.  Horrifying.  Seriously.

But I will not go quietly!  I will continue to plan my wedding despite the lack of an engagement ring!  I will strive to be the best Domestic Goddess I can be despite the fact that I will soon assume another, much less fabulous title of "grad student"!  Most importantly of all, I will remain dedicated to my Dyson and the dust-free, teenage grit-free environment it provides.

In fact, so enthused am I about my Dyson that I came up with a little ditty today (with kudos to Beethoven, obv)...

Ahem.  Here goes.

Ode to Dy

Dyson, Dyson
I adore Thee

God of Suction

Lord of Clean

Bunnies of dust flee before Thee

Hail Thee to the homey gleam 

Suck the dirt of jogs and errands 

Rid the house of my hairballs

Not that I have grody split-ends

But they add up 'gainst the walls

Housewives join the mighty chorus

Which the morning tasks began

Dyson love is reigning o'er us

Vacuum love leaves time to tan

Ever cleaning march we onward

Fabulous in the name of "wife"

Joyful suction brings us sun-ward

In the triumph song of life

I have too much free time.  I know.  And I am cherishing every second of it.

Love,

Jen, the Domestic Goddess 4evah!

Survival of the Fabulousest

My darling DP! 

I have survived!  My house may be full of meringue crumbs, I may spend the next two days washing sheets and towels, and the kitchen might need a industrial-level disinfection, but I survived my teenage house guests.

And here is the better news... my biological clock is still intact!  PHEW.

You know, I really feared the worst.  But even though I spent two full days entertaining, feeding, and cleaning up after these girls, I am in fine form this morning and ready for my most thorough date with Dyson ever.  I will obv keep you posted on that, because I know you care.

Anyway, I couldn't help but think, as my fridge was being raided, my living room torn apart (of course they wanted to sleep in the room with a Wii, big screen TV, and computer instead of our lovely lavender guest room), and my dishes dirtied, that teenagers aren't so bad at all!  They're a little lazy and a little smelly, but I really didn't mind them.  Fancy that.

Frankly, I was kind of hoping their visit would quell my biological clock.  Alas, no success.  I think I'll go take a walk through Notting Hill to see the latest Bugaboo stroller styles and colors.

Tata!

xoxo

DG

Domestic Goddess Takes on Teenagers

Dearest DP,

Rings!  Fabulous!  I must admit I do hope you see the light - no, not the glorious rays of light emanating from my future Ring of Dreams, the metaphoric light - and decide to show your commitment to The Doctor by wearing a gorge engagement ring - oh no wait - partnership ring on your ring finger.  Did you find any you like?  Moissanite?  Mokume Gane?  Details, woman!

As for me, well, you may not be hearing from me for awhile.  I am preparing my biological clock for an attack of a most gruesome nature: teenagers.  In my house.  For two days.

That's right.  The Lawyer and I offered to host an expat family friend's two teenage daughters for a couple of days.  And they arrive in approximately 90 minutes.

Now, I have known these girls since they were babies.  I lived over here in England with their family for a couple of summers, so I am kind of the big sister they never had.  Or at least I was.  I haven't seen them for a few years so I have no idea what the dynamic will be now that they are adolescents.  Ack!  I mean I was a terrible little witch when I was in middle school, and an insecure mess in high school (well, at least for the first year or so, until I embraced my nerdiness and gained a little fabulous and became quite cool, actually).  I know I will be able to handle anything that comes my way.  But I cannot speak for my biological clock.  For her, I fear the worst.

Which is probably a good thing, since I'll soon be starting grad school and all.  Not exactly the time to get knocked up.  Oh, and before you remind me yet again, I am also neither married nor engaged.  Right-o!

Ok, I'm off to rev up the Dyson before the girls arrive.  Wish me luck!

xoxo

DG

Bridezilla Schmidezilla

My dearest and favoritest Domestic Partner,

Okay, so you are also the only gal I know who is in a legal domestic partnership, but that doesn't mean my love and admiration for you are any less,

Fear not! Just because I stayed awake for my entire red-eye flight from Detroit to London reading my new crop of bridal mags from cover to cover does not - I repeat, does NOT - mean that I will go all bridezilla on your yenta-cum-ministress ass.

I am the first to admit that booking our wedding location and starting the planning process before getting engaged, yes, without an engagement ring on my finger, is unconventional - though I must also say that it is much easier to browse vendors' websites without being blinded by the rays of glorious light emanating from my Ring of Dreams.

I will also admit that commencing Bridal Boot Camp and counting grams of protein with over a year to go until my nuptials may be a little intense - but remember, I am a Domestic Goddess! I don't work, I Dyson! What else am I going to do all day if I'm not exercising vigilance over my increasingly hot physique?

You can also give thanks to the High and Mighty Internet for keeping me sane in the coming months - okay, YEAR and months. There are a ton of fabulous, grounded brides-to-be out there: Veronica from NYC, Kelly and Natalie in DC, and even a gal in LA who is planning a $10,000 wedding! I mean how crazy can I possibly go?

Love,

Why Isn't This More Fun?

Ah Wendi,

I love how your keen sense of ladylike decorum comes through in your writing. I will never think of my protein shakes the same way again.

Hope you had a good weekend though. I miraculously survived another training session with Colossus and am anticipating another successful cleaning date with my beloved Dyson this morning.

But, alas, I'm feeling a little down. About this wedding planning stuff.

You know, before I met The Lawyer, I never allowed myself to visit TheKnot.com. Well, ok, fine. I might have typed the address into my web browser a few or dozen or so times, out of sheer boredom and desperation and inability to think of anywhere else to surf. But I never allowed myself to set up a profile.

I just knew it would be worth the wait. The BF would propose, I'd have my Ring of Dreams on my finger, and the sun would be shining and angels singing on the day I opened my laptop and logged into The Knot as a bride-to-be.

Things didn't exactly turn out that way, not that I mind. In fact I kind of love that the BF and I are doing things a bit inversely, booking our dream location before actually getting engaged (not that the event manager knows - sshhh!). Plus, it makes sense for me, since I will be starting my MBA in September. Best to get this stuff done now, as a Lady of Leisure, before I become a Student of Stress. I feel secure and happy and excited to get engaged and I think our family and friends will get a kick out of the fact that we booked everything before our actual engagement. I mean it's cute, right?

Me to family member/friend: "Guess what? I'm ENGAGED!"

FM/F: "That's great! I am so happy for you! Have you thought about a date?"

Me: "Yup! And a time, and a location. Invitations forthcoming. And there will be fabulous mini grilled cheese sandwiches passed during the 4:30-5:30 cocktail hour."

I mean, that's cute, right?

So why isn't this more fun?

We booked our date a couple weeks ago, and I had the green light to start planning, so off I went… and then I stalled. It wasn't until recently that I was able to sit myself back down to look at some caterer's websites. We also received our lengthy contracts in the mail, but signing them (and the deposit check to go along with them) was more painful than joyful.

Don't get me wrong. I was listening when EVERY bride EVER declared that planning a wedding is stressful. But this is, like, one of the only things on my docket right now. I could browse wedding sites all day, every day, la dee da, without a care in the world save for my aching legs courtesy of Colossus. And I am determined to have fun with it, dammit! Who cares if I don't have my Ring of Dreams tossing glorious rays of light around my kitchen as I type? Who cares if I am completely financially dependent on my fian - excuse me, boyfriend - right now and thus feel twice the pressure of a lack of liquid funds with which to consider satin linens over polyester and butternut squash soup served in a wee carved out pumpkin over a plain old bowl?

Oh - I care. Crap.

Wah...
DG

Bridal Boot Camp Begins...

Dear Wendi,

Holy crap. I started Bridal Boot Camp yesterday, on what otherwise would have been a perfect Sunday. And by "perfect Sunday" - also known as "life before Boot Camp" - I mean this:

Sleep in.
Wake up refreshed and ready for a little romance (if you know what I mean).
Homemade brunch (using items purchased at the Notting Hill farmers' market the day before): blueberry pancakes, bacon, sausage, chocolate croissant, full-fat Greek yogurt with honey and granola, fresh-squeezed OJ.
Vegging and snuggling and possibly back to bed.

Instead, my Sunday consisted of this:

Wake up to alarm.
Tired and mildly cranky.
Workout nerves + fatigue = no, um, romance.
Pre-Boot Camp breakfast: one scrambled egg, three pieces of broccoli, small handful of almonds.
Ass handed to me by our new trainer, who will hence be known as Colossus.

I know it will all be worth it when I look hotter on my wedding day than I have ever looked in my life, but man. Life without carbs, chocolate, cheese, and - wait for it - ALCOHOL?! Just. Wrong.

Granted, we are only going carbless and boozeless for two weeks. Then we can slowly start adding these necessities back into our diet. And I must begrudgingly admit that since the BF and I started eating more protein and cut out the wine/beer/port/cider/champagne/Jaeger (kidding - I haven't been able to drink that since the Drunken Archaeologist Campsite Laundry Incident of 2000) a few days ago, I am feeling pretty good. Well, or, I was. Until this morning. Well, actually, until the middle of last night. When my soreness started waking me up every time I rolled over.

Today is not much of an improvement. I am already two Motrin in, with plenty more to go. I am hobbling around like I have a dumbbell up my tuchus, and my soreness almost - almost - kept me from my favorite sacred domestic ritual: my Monday morning date with Dyson.

TG I was able to rally.

Hoping you're sore this morning for a better reason than I (if you know what I mean)...

xoxo,
DG