There is a robot living in my kitchen.

And it's name is KitchenAid mixer.

When I was perusing the aisles of Bed Bath & Beyond while selecting items for our wedding registry, one of the first things I scanned was the staple KitchenAid mixer. Even though I'd never used one of these babies, the thrill of conquering dozens of recipes and having my own mini Food Network filled me.

After one trial run with my pistachio-colored appliance, I understand why people like these things. This bad boy isn't a simple kitchen appliance; it's a 26-lb. machine. It gave me a batch of delicious homemade bread and a book of delicious-sounding recipes (from where I got the bread recipe), plus a thorough manual (in three languages) on how to use my new robot. Just wait until you meet my blender.

Pistachio, and the bread. 

Leave construction to the men.

I'm convinced the male species inherited upon a birth a more natural skill towards building things. I totally believe that women possess that skill, too, but men make it look too easy. Or maybe E was just trying to impress me.

Reasoning for my conviction: [1] Eric put together two desks in less time it took me to construct a single book case. [2]  As far as I can tell, there are no discrepancies in his marksmanship. [3] There are in mine (so I'm not super awesome with a hammer - big deal).

Desk number 1.

Desk number 2.

Bookcase number...well, this is the only one.

Don't worry, I've come to terms. As long as he doesn't outshine my cooking. I'd say something about us knowing our places, but that seems a little chauvinistic.

When you get married, don't count on your parents to always back you up.

Because they won't.

Until we were married, whenever Eric and I had little tiffs, my parents would usually side with me, except in the rare circumstance where I was being completely irrational, which is never. Please take notice that I said things were this way until Eric and I were married, and here's the evidence.

Keeping to our nature of making big life changes in a whirlwind of events, Eric and I were planning to move shortly after we arrived home from our honeymoon in Mexico. Now, shortly for me in that case was defined by two or more full days resting in the quiet nothingness of my South Dakotan farm. However, for my husband, it meant approximately 30 hours. Ex-squeeze me? 

*Note:  Eric wasn't wanting to ditch his in-laws. He wanted to get to our apartment because he was waiting for a transcript that had to be turned into his new job by the end of the week. The transcript was being delivered to our new home.

As you may predict, in my plight to relax at home and recover from a nasty cold for a few days, I battled (figuratively, of course) my husband, pleading to stay for another 24 hours. And in my attempts to crush the enemy (again, figuratively), I went to the Veurink king and queen asking them to persuade my beloved (who was also the enemy in this short disagreement). I begged for their reassurance that I wasn't being unreasonable.

But apparently, I was. Instead of comforting me with their usual words of siding with me, the royal parents did no such thing. Instead, they told me that I was on my own now, which translates to, "He's your husband, so you're on your own." Grrrrr...

Obviously, Eric and I worked things out (a.k.a. I caved), and we were happily moving into our new home within 48 hours of returning to our beloved country. Lesson learned:  unless it's the important, life-changing, future-altering decisions, parents are most likely going to tell you to deal with spousal issues alone.

The 's' word.

One of the topics that surprisingly didn't surface in our premarital counseling was the concept of sacrifice. Either the pastor assumed E and I are already self-sacrificing people, or he just forgot. Take your pick.

I like to think in our 3+ years together we've both grasped the concept and put it into practice (sometimes unwillingly). But while on our honeymoon, I decided to make a sacrifice of huge proportions...drum roll.......

I put aside my judgments about Magic the Gathering and learned how to play.

For a while, E has gently prodded me to learn how to play. I tried to ward off his request with empty 'Yeah, maybe's' until I decided it was time to give it a try. The look on his face the first time we played was totally worth it. Upside: Magic is actually fun, I'm getting the hang of it, and I have a sweet deck. Downside: E has been looking for more games we can enjoy together, Skyrim or FNM being the most frequent suggestions. I remind him not to get his hopes unrealistically high.

Lesson learned: sacrifice equals mucho important, and marriage is super fun when you enjoy things you like with someone you love.

The pilot.

I've never been great at blogging. I've tried, have had moments of seemingly ingeniousness, and have actually had some great ideas for blogs...at least in my opinion. Problem is, thinking and doing are often difficult to marry, which (sneakily) brings me to why I started this bad boy.

[The objective] I got married and have been taking note of some of the lessons I've learned during marriage. Some are serious lessons I've learned about being married, like the adjustment of cohabitation with my husband. However, I predict this blog will favor more to anecdotes about married life, and will probably include recipes I conquer, and other fun things. The ultimate goal is to finish 2012 with at least 52 posts relative in some fashion to my and E's first year married.

[What's in a name?] I'm hoping that all who read this have, at some point in their life, had the joyous experience of watching 'Friends'. Two years ago, two of my best friends got me hooked on this show (I bought all 10 seasons after two months of near-constant exposure). These said best friends and I have subconsciously weaved 'Friends' scenarios and quotes into our lives; I've been known to say that 'Friends' is the soundtrack to our lives. When I was braintornadoing (like what I did there?) what to call my blog, something feeding off the show seemed appropriate...and easy. I can't promise this blog will be as funny as ones of the greatest TV sitcoms ever, but that only makes sense. Life isn't scripted; enjoy the bloopers.

My babe of a husband and I.