The Rays at the Oscars

Justin and I may have spent most of the Oscars downing theater candy with friends and playing funny expressions repeatedly in slow motion, but we can at least say that we took part in this traditional event.

I only got the boy to watch it in the first place because I told him the creator of “Family Guy” was hosting it. Suddenly melodramatic singing wasn’t so intolerable after all. If Seth McFarlane would star in every Broadway musical that comes to Memphis, my life would be complete.

We weren’t nominated for any awards in 2012, though it wasn’t for a lack of trying. There were many dramatic debuts this year that deserve recognition. So starve yourself, get a pixie cut, put on a dress, and enjoy:

• Best Actor in a Leading Role: Justin Ray in “Give me Amour Chances, Officer.” After being pulled over in St. Louis on the way to a Cardinals game, Mr. Ray delighted audiences as a foreigner far from home who is attending a baseball game for the first time. The cop that only gave him a warning said: “Two thumbs up. The Cardinals shirt and boyish enthusiasm sealed the deal. Have fun, you two.”

• Best Actress in a Leading Role: Ashton Ray in “Silver Linings Playbook with a Few Pages Torn Out.” Ashton gives a compelling, emotional performance in this drama about a girl who finds herself in a new town, unemployed twice, with her favorite car sent to the junkyard to be sold for parts. She is given a kitty to keep her company but soon realizes it was an extra in “The Exorcism of Emily Rose.” Entertainment Weekly says, “And you thought that cat was crazy.”

• Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Justin Ray in “Argo Find You,” the adventurous epic that follows the husband of a directionally-challenged wife. In the climatic conclusion, leading lady Ashton cries amidst sobs, “I’m…I’m somewhere in Weiner!”

• Best Actress in a Supporting Role: Ashton in “Life of Fi.” She may not hold a candle to her dog-walking costar that bravely faces harsh winter potty breaks, but her evolvement throughout the movie is what makes her performance so inspirational. People Magazine says, “She goes from laughing at Sarah McLachlan commercials to loving a dog in only two hours.”

• Best Director: Justin Ray in “Les MiserBLAH” and “Les Get’Er Out of the Ditch.” Nothing says “Let’s Be Friends” like a volcanic bout of food poisoning and lodging your car into a steep ditch. It takes quite the director to lead someone out of these situations, both of which occurred at the same couple’s home. Us Weekly says, “I can’t believe that couple still hangs out with them. I wouldn’t.”

Some other quick credits:

Cinematography: Justin for his beautiful film, “The dog running around on the deck outside.”

Costumes: Ashton in “The chocolate-covered pants I wore today” or “I wonder if I could put a post-it note over this giant rip.”

Sound Editing: Ashton in “I shouldn't have said that while I was driving.”

We may not have a gold, spray-painted Ken doll standing on our mantle, but we acted our hearts out this year.

We are about to celebrate our first anniversary and I still have friends despite throwing up all over their yard.

I'll spare you the mumbled, incoherent thank you speech and just say: Stop pretending that life is a rehearsal. It's not. It's the real thing. It's the movie. Sometimes it's Les Miserables and sometimes it's Audrey Hepburn. Sometimes you're the leading lady and sometimes you hold Camera 3. But in whatever you do,

Shine.

 

APPily Ever After

Over lunch, Justin told me about this app he has on his phone that apparently gives him a free app every day based on what they think he "needs."

"So what did you need today?" I asked, skeptical.

"It's this game where you catch kittens with a slice of bread. They fight each other and you gain more kitten fighters by smacking their face with bread."

Whaaaat?

"And they thought you just had to have this?"

Then it hits me: maybe they should make marriage-simulated games; I think it may just subconsciously sink in while they're battling felines with carbs.

• Tide Time: Take as many virtual clothes as you can and stuff them into the washing machine until it reaches full capacity. If the rotating device can not complete a full circle, you win.

• Project Dumbway with Friends: You and your spouse opponent have 30 seconds to put together the most ridiculous outfit to take the dog out in at 6 a.m. And the trophy goes to the man in the Victoria's Secret pink robe and work boots.

• Memory Mania: Spouse hears 10 stories. Must recount one detail from two of them for a victory.

• Cry Me a River: A virtual woman fills the screen and is hysterically crying. You have three chances to guess why and one chance to get her to stop.

• Pizza Parlor: If you can eat your half of the pizza before your virtual wife finishes hers, you get 100 tokens. At the 1000 token level, she will go on a diet and you win.

The marriage conference market has been capitalized on. The self-help books fill up half of Barnes & Noble. But has anyone really tried to reach men where they like to reside? I'll have to do some more research, but I like to think outside XBOX (you're so very welcome for that genius pun).

Gab

Justin came home from a golfing excursion with some buddies one time and I asked him several questions about the guys and their families. He had no updates. I finally sighed and said, "Well, what did ya'll talk about then?"

"Golf," he replied. 

I read a news article today that said scientists have discovered that women have a "language protein" that may be part of the reason we like to blab more than our male counterparts. 

Apparently the average woman speaks up to 20,000 words in a day-- which is about 13,000 more than the average man. 

Hey, I'd believe it. Especially when comparing it to the conversations that occur around my house.

Justin: "I don't care where we eat." 

Ashton: "I don't care where we eat-- as long as it's not Italian because I had that for lunch yesterday. Or Sonic because I am trying not to eat greasy foods-- but I really want mozzarella sticks. Oh, and I heard that Chinese place by my work lets employees wash their underwear in the kitchen near where the food is prepared. So not there." 

J: "I don't really feel like going." 

A: "I just feel like all these responsibilities are piling up on me and I can't say no to people-- which makes me feel obligated to go because I told them I would, but I just feel like I'm at the end of my rope this week and I just want to relax on the couch because I don't really feel like going." 

J: "I promise I'm not thinking anything."

A: "I promise I'm not thinking anything. It's just that I thought I would be farther in my career by now, ya know? I just worked so hard in school and I keep getting all these doors slammed in my face. It's such a disappointment. Now my 'Where will you be in 10 years' is going to be at the 20 year mark. See? I told you I wasn't thinking anything." 

J: "I would like to order a Reese's  Cup, brownie, and strawberry concrete please." 

A: "I kind of want a Cream Soda Freeze because it's so refreshing, but something chocolate sounds good. A small cone would be less calories so maybe I should get that. I really shouldn't be getting ice cream. Ok, I'll have the Cream Soda Freeze please." 

J: "I feel sick." 

A: "I don't feel good. I read the other day that a lot of women are really low on iron which makes them feel really tired and fatigued. Maybe I should get iron tablets. I know you think vitamins are useless, but I really think I should take them so I can be healthier." 

J: "I have to go to the bathroom." 

A: "If you don't pull over, I am going to wet my pants. Like for real. I have never had to go this bad before. Read all the signs. Is there an Exxon? It's shady. Keep driving. I have to pee-- but not enough to go there. Pull over!"

J: "I have a question."

A: "How was your test? Do you feel like you did well on it? When will you find out what you made? What did you have for lunch today? Was it tasty?"

J: "That's a nice car." 

A: "That's a nice purse. Oh, I want those shoes. That outfit is so cute. I need a new set of luggage. I think it's time for new bedding." 

J: "That was a good movie." 

A: "I feel like there was so much depth to all the characters; it really made you think about what it would be like to deal with a mental illness. I feel like their relationship was so genuine and realistic. I really related to the whole thing." 

J: "I need a haircut." 

A: "I feel like I need a change. Highlights, layers, something that says 'Fresh start.' I'm tired of the old me. I want something that makes me feel like a different person." 

Protein or no protein, we've definitely got a step up on the competition-- unless we're involved in a mumbling contest. 

But among all the jibber jabber lies this fact: she chose you to share it all with. And that's something worth talking about. 

"A foolish man tells a woman to stop talking, but a wise man tells her that her mouth is extremely beautiful when her lips are closed." -Unknown

The article:

http://www.opposingviews.com/i/health/study-why-women-talk-more-men#

 

Re-Gift

I am a terrible gift giver.

Christmas before last, I attempted to make snow globes, but bought dwarf mason jars and big people. A good chiseling made them fit into the jars, only to lead them to their fate: a life of being green from the bleeding evergreen trees. Justin's mom put hers up this year, bless her kind soul.

When we were dating, I overheard Justin say he wanted a nice sports bag to take to the gym. I gleamed with pride at my clever detective skills. So I hurriedly ordered him a Nike bag online. It came in a gigantic box that towered up to my shoulders.

Oh. No. What. Did. I. Do. Ya ordered a Nike body bag. That's what you did. Note to self: Check dimensions next time. On a positive note, he now uses it to house the entire church softball team's helmets, bats, balls and other miscellaneous gear. You're welcome.

I'm that girl whose gift stays with the person that originally picked it at a Dirty Santa gathering. "Come on, people-- does anyone want this Santa salt and pepper set?"

Fast forward to this Valentine's Day. I am going to get it RIGHT this time. So I ordered him a vintage, custom watch early. Then I got the confirmation e-mail that the chick won't be mailing it until February 18th because she is recognizing the Chinese Festival. Ahhhh.

So I get this recollection during lunch today of him saying he wanted this particular video game. So I rush to the store and get it. Because I can't keep a secret to save my life, I send him a picture of the front with the cute headline: "Hope this can hold you over until your watch comes in." Silence.

He very sweetly tells me that he bought this in December. In December. Tears begin to slightly well up in my eyes; but then I tell myself that it's stupid to cry about such things. So I stop with the whole dumb welling up thing.

Later this afternoon, my early flowers and chocolate-covered strawberries arrived from him. He always seems to get it just right.

Sometimes this parallels with my spiritual life as well. I chisel. And I paint. And I shop. I do all of these things to put together the "perfect gift." And yet sometimes I am so caught up in doing, doing, doing that I forget about being, being, being. A gift that lacks relationship is not a real gift at all.

So I can be thankful that God (the Justin in this scenario-- don't tell him-- don't want him to get a complex) continues to shower me with blessings that I don't deserve. No matter how many times I chalk up a lame offering, he still smiles and says, "You are enough."

All I can say is that I'm so glad that I don't have to bring a party gift with me to the pearly gates. I'm so glad that I worship a God that doesn't require anything but a self-sacrifice.

And while this blog may not be as spectacular as your very own body bag, I hope that it blessed your day. That's one present I don't mind you re-gifting.

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Matthew 6:19-21

The Valentine Whine

People either reaaaaally love Valentine's Day or they reaaaaaally hate it. They either receive a teddy bear that barely fits into their house; or they receive an anonymous gift from their mother (been there, done that, got the roses.) I've already seen a few bitter diatribes pop up on my newsfeed.

From someone who has spent ample time on both sides of the romance fence, let me just say: February 14th is only as miserable as you make it.

When you're single, you get to watch gushing co-workers squeal all day long with glee; when you're married, you get to admire your roses until someone comes in and says, "I got a new SPORTS CAR!" (Also been there, done that, got the interior tour). You see, relationship status doesn't matter as much as attitude does. I could have been less grateful for my flowers. Or I could think, "Happy Monthly Car Payment, dollface." It was up to me.

Here's a few ways to turn that frown upside down before Thursday. I will try to debunk common excuses for seeing red (and pink).

• I want to show people I love them all the time, not just one day out of the year. Well, I want to give people mugs of hot cocoa and plaid shirts they'll never wear every day too. But since I can't physically and fiscally do that, I wait for Christmas. So keep on loving everyone, Cupid. 

• Valentine's Day is too commercialized and materialistic. Says the lady who bit a three-year-old on Black Friday to retrieve his Tickle Me Elmo. If you see a market and you capitalize on it, you're an innovative genius. If Hallmark does it, they invented a holiday. 

• It's Single Awareness Day. People are only as aware as you let them be. For all I know, you are dating Ryan Gosling and Channing Tatum at the same time right now. But if you announce it on every social media known to man, I become blissfully aware of your circumstance.

• I always end up with some weird secret admirer. Honey, there will come a day when the only mystery you get in a work day is "Who is the post-El Acapulco bathroom phantom?" Cherish these moments of secrecy and intrigue. 

• "Guess I'll just have to go out with my girlfriends and show the whole world I don't need a man to have fun!" While I don't think tagging out of seeing the latest Nicholas Sparks flick is high on the male list of things to cry about, I do think that there will come a time when you will miss this. Don't congregate and bemoan your perpetual single state. Enjoy your time. Enjoy not having baby spit-up on your clothes. Enjoy having the extra cash to eat at TGIFridays. Don't make it a back-up plan; make it THE plan.

• There's Valentine's candy and stuffed animals everywhere. I can't get away from it. Walgreen's may look like Cupid shot it with a love machine gun, but look at it this way: every piece of chocolate paradise that is shaped like a heart has like double the peanut butter, double the caramel, double the whatever-you-want. From one candy addict to another, Valentine's Day is where it's AT. 

• I won't even like Valentine's Day when I have someone. It's stupid. Yeah. Yeah, you kind of will. So stop saying this.

I feel like I can write this because I spent years being this person. I avoided the dorm lobby on Valentine's Day like the plague. During the far and few between times I had a boyfriend, I dreaded the "What did you get?" questions.

I will say it becomes a little much for me at times; but ultimately, my happiness, contentment or lack thereof is dependent on me. And that's a truth that shoots straighter than any arrow to the heart.

"I don't understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine's Day.  When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon."  ~Author Unknown

Real Life & The Bachelor

So I found out Justin had a basketball scrimmage tonight with some guys from church. I skipped my post-work gym time because I was going to get my DVR on. You know, those shows that have been highlighted for days now-- just waiting for you to be alone in all of your cheesy girl glory.

Hi, my name is Ashton. And I watch The Bachelor. Like all 4 hours of it.

To all the haters out there, let me let you in on a secret: we know it isn't real. We don't want it to be real. And in all actuality, we'd probably go insane if the Bachelor was our husband.

Thinking is not really a qualification for watching the show, but I decided to try it out tonight-- and compare the projected scenarios to real life.

These are only a few:

• Jumping off buildings and repelling doesn't bond you. Just ask Justin about any instance where I have been sweating and working hard simultaneously. Not a pretty picture. We barely made it through a bathroom remodel. 

• Guys don't want to hear sad stories. When I was like 10, my friend and I were walking across a log at the creek by my house and I fell off into some shallow, freezing water. But you know what? I am 26 now. Twenty-six. Bringing this up as a life trial is just not going to gain "I'm so glad she opened up to me" points from real dudes.

• Forget the helicopter. Instead, picture the two of you in a dented hand-me-down from one of your parental units. Because this is most likely what you will be cruising in. Everybody looks sexy when you're a million feet in the air. It takes a special couple to giggle incessantly without an air conditioner.

• Life ain't got background music. When you're sitting at Chili's, you have to actually talk about more than how much you like each other. There isn't a concerto in the background to drown out the snooze fest going on. So read a headline every now and then. And not one about a celebrity's weird-named kid.

• Get a real job. Here on Planet Real World, we don't get to be professional organizing yoga instructors with a two-month vacay package to go find the man of our dreams. The most excitement some of us see in a day is our circular-formula Excel spreadsheets balancing after hours of data entry. So yeah, enjoy telling your new fiance what you really do post-show. And I bet it's not a business lending consultant specialist.

I obviously realize the ludicrous nature of the shows I watch. I think the reason I watch them, though, is the satisfaction in simplicity that it gives me. I don't have to polar plunge in a bikini for him to notice me; and he doesn't have to feign complete distress when I tell him about the spelling bee that changed my life when I was 13.

"I love being married. It's so great to find one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life." - Rita Rudner

5 Things You Learn in Marriage

Justin and I did something a little out of both of our comfort zones last weekend. We went to a *gasp* marriage conference.

As with most things of this nature, I am a tad skeptical. Not going to lie.

The girl who watched Oprah every day after school sure doesn't like to get in touch with her own feelings. Oh, I cry like a girl, don't get me wrong. But I am perfectly content not knowing why.

I didn't want to be told that divorces were caused by husbands who don't take out the trash. I didn't want to hear that sending me flowers every now and then would keep me pacified.

Then this happened: I am sitting there and the two people hosting it flat out said, "Satan wants to destroy your marriage. Your spouse is not your enemy, Satan is."

Whoa. Hold up. Ok, you can start telling me that I need to start leaving love notes in his lunchbox anytime now.

One of the people interviewed said, "The devil's strategy for our times is to trivialize human existence and to isolate us from one another while creating the delusion that the reasons are time pressures, work demands, or economic anxieties."

That isn't fluff, ya'll. That's true. We are coming upon a year and I can honestly say I have learned more about myself than I have about him.

You know those vanity mirrors that have different light settings? Well, when you're single, you are looking at yourself in the "dim, candlelight restaurant" setting. When you get married, it's like flip that baby over to the tweeze-my-eyebrow magnifying side. For real. It's about as pretty as that now life-size zit on your face, too.

Here's what you discover:

• You're selfish. Had you asked me pre-nuptials if I would consider myself a self-absorbed person, I would have given you a "Who me?" face. Something about saying "I do" brings out Mr. Me Monster. Suddenly you feel the need to defend your movie choice like you're representing O.J. Simpson on a murder conviction. Christmas traditions you didn't know you had are now the most important thing in your life and must be abided by or else.

• You do care. Remember when you were dating that guy in junior high and you didn't care about anything? Want to watch this show? I don't care. Want to go to this concert? I don't care. Do you want to go to Taco Bell for our first anniversary dinner? I don't care. Then you get married. And boy do you care. You care about your tile grout turning black. You care about missing socks. You care about your DVR-ed shows being ranked high priority.

• You now count in increments of one million. So your college boyfriend broke up with you three times? He was just trying to "find himself." But your husband left a million toenail clippings on the carpet. And your husband farted a million times last night in his sleep. And he left the laundry in the washer for a million years.

• You are insecure. You just got done looking awesome. Fancy dress, fancy hair, a diamond tiara. That's grounds for feeling like hot stuff, right? Then you get home. Justin told me I had left a few soap suds on a pan as I went to put it in the cupboard. I lost it. A few missed suds turned into a cryfest proclaiming what a lousy cook and wife I was. That was some deeply buried stuff, you guys. Needless to say, soapsuds are pretty unmentionable these days.

• You miss your parents. I hate the phrase "Leave and Cleave." Cleave is just a weird word anyway. But it's probably the hardest thing to do. I remember filling out an emergency contact form and writing, "Trey and..." Wait. Justin is my emergency contact now. It was a strange realization. Now to cut down on the "Well, my mom says..." discourses...

The weekend, cheesy skits and all, was ultimately based on the fact that the primary purpose of marriage is to reflect God's image and that it's not some I'll-give-50, You-give-50 bargain. It's two people. It's 100/100. It's a battle. It's using the same faith it takes to say that you believe Jesus rose from the dead to say that you can daily heal your marriage. It's a gift. It's a witness.

"We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'." - Beverly Clark, "Shall We Dance" (Love that movie!) 

And to think, you got all of this for free. Without even leaving your couch.

You're welcome.

Blessings,

Ashton