Blake Snow

writer-for-hire, content guy, bestselling author

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Tagged personal

I’ve never looked this cool

Blake Snow surfing in San Diego California, June 2009

While in San Diego recently, I went surfing for the first time. As my wife will tell you, I’m pretty proud of myself. Regrettably, I was unable to stand after two hours of riding. But I did get up on both knees a couple of times, so that was pretty cool. The score so far: Ocean 1, Blake 0. In any case, I’m totally taking up surfing as a hobby. Just need to find a nearby ocean.

Where’s Brooks when I need him?

punchout-wii

I got the new Punch-Out for Wii today and have been reveling in the nostolgia and reliving the combos required to beat each opponent. Currently I’m stuck on that frackin’ Great Tiger, who uses tricky teleportation punches to win. Cheater. My older brother Brooks was always better at this game. Where’s a good wing man when you need one?

Overheard at the Snow’s house: “You look like a five year-old”

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Is it possible to have an identity complex a year before turning 30? After changing my hair two weeks ago, I decided to wear high socks with shorts today (I need new pants, plus the weather is nice, okay?). Excited about my throw back to ’90s sock fashion, I asked Lindsey what she thought. “You look like a five year-old,” she proclaimed. Maybe so, but I’m tired of anklet socks. Besides, it’s kind of fun to be different, and who do I need to impress? (I’m married.)

Not all fortune cookies are duds

I haven’t taken a fortune cookie serious — let alone keep one — since… well, forever. Rather than predicting actual fortunes, almost all of them instead state the obvious or reference vague generalizations like, “Your friends have heartbeats,” or, “You’ll never know what you can do until you try.”

Dumb.

My latest fortune cookie, acquired last month after overpaying for an uneasy meal, was a keeper, however: “The project you have in mind will soon gain momentum.” I excitedly thought to myself, “Really? Which one? How soon? Tell me, omniscient Confucius!” I then slipped the two-inch piece of paper into my pocket and later onto my desk as a reminder of my fortune. After a discouraging precursor to Q1, I was willing to let even a cheap, dry cookie have an effect on my professional life.

Yesterday, I closed one of those deals — a reputable and ongoing account that is sure to bolster my portfolio and bank account. As a result, my faith in fortune cookies has been restored. My faith in suspect Chinese joints, on the other hand, has not.

Related: Let me dislike sushi in peace, please

“Dad, are you being a jerk?”

Last month, after an unresolved argument with my wife Lindsey, my three year old (Sadie) walked into my home office and on her own initiative asked, “Dad, are you being a jerk?”

Ouch. Her assumption was dead on. Out of frustration, I had been spiteful with her mother only moments before. I bashfully answered in the affirmative, and with her outreached hand in approval, proceeded to make amends with my better half, who was calmly sitting in the next room.

I knew from experience that kids say the darnedest things, but I had no idea they could cut to the core at such a young age. In any case, I’ll take all the help I can get.

I got a hair cut

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After seven long years, I have finally retired spiky (aka disheveled) hair, some three to four years since it went out of style. In recent years, I would periodically rock the faux hawk for fun, but my decade mainstay was usually spiky — until now.

Before the spike, it was an outdated Caesar cut. Before that it was a naturally curly shag and sometimes Afro cut while in high school. Before that it was a bowl cut in middle school. And before that it was a clean-cut part in elementary school — no funny business.

I’m not sure what to call my new do, but I’ve started “swirling” it from my non-parted side to my parted side, thereby disguising any part whatsoever. I guess you could technically call it a “Reverse Cowlick.” Some hipsters I see when traveling to San Francisco or New York display a variation of this cut, but much more delicately than me.

Whatever it is, I’m happy to be spike free. It was time.

Books I’d like to read this year

After a seven month hiatus (having only read 4-5 books last year), I caught the reading bug again. To stay the course, here are a dozen classics I’d like to read in 2009:

Anna Karenina
1984
War and Peace
The Adventures of Huck Finn
In Search of Lost Time
The Stories of Anton Chekhov
Middlemarch
Moby Dick
The Catcher in the Rye
For Whom the Bell Tolls

I’m currently reading Out of Africa and plan to re-read the following: Hamlet, The Great Gatsby, The Old Man and the Sea, and To Kill a Mockingbird (I remember liking them in high school). Off a recommendation from a well-read friend, I’m also excited to read Water for Elephants and The Kite Runner. And for cheap thrills, I’m going to read The Firm and The Rainmaker, two Grisham novels I missed.

Anything I should add?

UPDATE: Robinson Crusoe, The Count of Monte Cristo, Of Mice and Men, Measure for Measure, the complete Jane Austen collection, Man’s Search for Meaning.

Fort Lauderdale is pretty in January

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Amid the great economic apocalypse of 2009, Lindsey and I sheepishly took an undeserved (as opposed to the popular “well-deserved”) vacation to Fort Lauderdale this month, while my mom watched the girls. It was the best trip I’ve had in a while, considering the stunning beach, lovely weather, great food, and cheap airfare and accommodations. We liked it so much, we plan on returning with the girls as soon as possible. Here are some of my favorite photos taken during our stay: Continue reading…

Felllow runners, will I ever be a robot runner?

Some runners are automatic. Day in, day out, they hop on treadmills, negotiate cross-country trails, or sidestep pedestrians and cars in the city. It’s as if “Just do it” was baked into their DNA.

I am not one of them. Despite my efforts, I still get discouraged and have to continually assure myself while running that “I can do it.”

To be fair, I haven’t run that much. I ran the 400m in grade school, taking the coveted, second-to-last-place finish at state finals. I ran religiously for four months in 2005, after making a fleeting new year’s resolution, which resulted in my quitting. And I ran intensively for another four months last year in preparation for a half-marathon, an event I had to postpone due to a ruptured disc in my lower back, which also put my running on hold until earlier this month.

I admit that my limited running accomplishments get me through my runs better than I would without, but I feel almost as discouraged now as I did while training for my first long-distance race. Is it unrealistic to hope to become a robot runner — one that doesn’t have to play mind games during every workout — say after running three times weekly for an entire year? I’ll keep on trucking regardless, but it sure would be nice.

I’m the Grinch that stole Consumermas

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Lindsey and I gave few gifts for Christmas this year — virtually none to friends and family (gulp). I justified the stinginess given the imminent economic apocalypse.

Now, as the wee hours of Christmas are upon me, I feel like a grinch. Only I have no sleigh full of toys to return to double the size of my heart. Happy Holidays?

At least my three year-old is getting something.

I’m a bedroom DJ again

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After a three year hiatus, I exhumed my turntables from under my bed last month. The “wheels of steel” proudly rest beneath Joe DiMaggio in my office now, and I’ve officially rekindled my love for analog sound, which is deeper and more “alive” than the high-fidelity of DVDs.

It’s hard to explain the enjoyment that comes from mixing and interacting with records (also known as blending or beat-syncing). It’s not as liberating as playing an instrument, but it’s not as passive as listening to a CD or MP3. The turntables are more microphone than music player. The records are the voices and are highly manipulable, thanks to the hands-on approach and tempo-shifting abilities of standard direct-drive tables.

Continue reading…

Ditching the internet for four and a half days was liberating

000image.jpg“Blake is abandoning the internet until Monday,” I wrote Wednesday afternoon on my Facebook status. It wasn’t a pithy attempt to grab attention. I meant it. And I’m happy to report that I stayed the course.

In doing so, I was able to unconditionally enjoy my family’s company during Thanksgiving. It also reinvigorated my professional spirits, ideas, and motivation as I turned to off-line content (you know, books). Granted, I rarely, if ever, have a case of the “Mundayz,” because I enjoy what I do. But today, I’m rearing to go, more than normal. And the break provided some much needed inspiration.

I’ve gone longer than four days without using the internet, namely during designated week-long vacations. But from now on, I’m committed to doing so on the weekends as well. What a novel idea, eh? Taking a break on the weekend.

Note: I’m (still) planning my attempt to ditch the Internet for an entire year

Smooth Harold counts his many blessings: 2008 edition

Lindsey Snow, Sadie Snow, Maddie Snow 2008

This year felt a lot like last for me. I liked that.

That’s not to say thetr weren’t any life improvements — there most definitely were. But it did feel like business as usual with a few notable exceptions. Lindsey and I went on a lovely vacation to the Caribbean in February. Sadie started dance class and abandoned diapers over the summer (rad). Maddie started walking and her colorful personality has filled our house with 100% more smiles. We visited my parents home in Georgia for the first time in three years. And I started two new writing gigs.

In sum, here is what I am most thankful for this year: Continue reading…

“I need some privacy”

Confession: We do not shut bathroom doors in our house while relieving ourselves, that is unless guests are over.

Lindsey and I inadvertently started the bad habit as newlyweds living in a small condo, wanting to maximize our conversation time. The practice has stuck, and often times one of use will even sit in the hallway to carry on a conversation, as if the other was merely sitting down as opposed to going to the bathroom. I guess we’re a modern day Adam’s Family.

Last week, I was making lunch for the girls while Sadie, our three-year old, dispensed u-boats in the guest bathroom toilet. As usual, the bathroom door was wide open so Sadie and I could talk should the “urge” arise. It didn’t take long.

Continue reading…

Words to live by: Don’t be stupid!

Don’t be stupid

Lindsey and I took the girls and our friends The Andersen’s on Friday to Jumping Jacks, an indoor playhouse with more than 6 dozen connected trampolines. I especially liked the warning sign: “Please jump in control. Don’t be stupid!”

I love taking jumps in life, so long as they’re “in control,” and I hate the consequences associated with being stupid. Definitely words to live by. A cute picture of Lindsey and the girls after the break…

Continue reading…

Locked doors remind me of my daughter’s presence

Sadie Snow, three years oldFor reasons beyond me, my three year old has begun using her hair clips to lock all the doors in our house. With clip in hand, sure turns the outside locks from the horizontal position to vertical, “to keep things safe,” she tells me.

In honesty, it’s been kind of annoying over the last two weeks. I’m forced to grab a nickle almost every time to unlock either the bathroom, office, or bedroom.

Last night, I went to check on my sleeping 1 year old. I turned the knob, and of course, it was locked. Rather than becoming frustrated, however, I found a nickel and smiled — perhaps this is my daughter’s way of reminding me she’s here.

Against my will, I’ve become a “Sorry, I got a bad back” guy

I ruptured a disc in my lower back on July 4. I successfully ran a 10K that day, but the spine cushion (as it is called) blew due to genetics, not physical exertion, I’m told. The demanding event and requisite training only aggravated an already degenerative disc.

On Friday, I had a discectomy to cure the problem, which slices through my back, drills a hole in my vertebrae, and traverses the sacred spinal canal to remove the loose fragment that was pinning my sciatic nerve against my bone, causing pain throughout my entire right leg.

Continue reading…

I don’t ever want to manscape

austin powers manscaping

Confession: I hope I never require manscaping. And by manscaping I mean below the neck body hair in general, not below the belt (get your head out of the gutter!).

But yeah, as I near 30 years of age, I’ve spotted some undesirably scragglies on my back. And I can’t even grow a beard. It’s coming, I fear.

So gentlemen, do you manscape? I know you metro sexual gym rats do — what with your baby smooth arms and legs. Ladies, do you encourage it?

In any case, I want no part of it.

Kids still say the darnedest things

“That not look good, daddy,” my clever, almost 3-year old girl said in broken but piercing English on Monday, upon seeing my newly purchased white leather belt around my waist. “That looks better,” she assured me, after I switched to a brown belt.

My confidence in fashion judgment is at an all time low right now. To make matters worse, Sadie told me I was “stinky” over the weekend. Great — out of style and stinky. Just what I need.

“Hey, I’m in the band!”

The Swing (2003)

Before high school graduation, a mission, college, marriage, two children, and a semi-real job, I was an aspiring rock star. I learned to play guitar and wrote my first song at age 14. I joined my first band (a trio named Formaldehyde) at 15, as singer and guitarist. We were kind of a big deal in po dunk Carrollton at the time (insert smiley face). I even got stopped at the local Blockbuster and movie theater by adoring fans (for reals).

Continue reading…

My right leg hates me right now.

Herniated Disc

After four weeks of inexplicable pain in my right leg, I was diagnosed with a herniated (possibly ruptured) disc in my lower back yesterday. Said injury partially blocks my sciatic nerve, making my right leg mad at me.

In all seriousness, it’s rather disabling — causing limping, an inability to sit or stand for long periods of time, and loss of feeling in my foot. Unbeknownst to me, it seems I sustained the injury during my 10K run on July 4.

If only I had maintained my previous life of idleness and extreme atrophy, none of this would have happened. 😉

(I should be fine, by the way, with at least a shot, physical therapy, and time. If not, routine surgery should take care of it. UPDATE: I had surgery in late August. It was a success and I’m on my way back to 100%.)

I’ve broken up with books

Though I’m embarrassed to say it, especially given that my livelihood (read: writing) depends on it, I’ve seemingly broken up with nutritious reading this year. Without noticing, I’ve gone more than seven months without reading a single book (okay, maybe one). I’m not even sure why.

I still read junk literature on a daily basis (i.e. online articles), but those don’t count. I need more Hemmingway, Austen, and Potok in my diet. Unfortunately, I have no desire to open a book, due to a prolonged state of atrophy and laziness. I want to fall in love again and admire my wife and colleagues who remain passionate about the medium.

Have you ever broken up with books? If so, how did you rekindle the fire?

Please, don’t talk to me while cleaning my teeth

Lindsey and I both had teeth cleanings on Monday.

Unfortunately for us, the “lab tech” polishing are pearlies couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She talked about past boyfriends, the lack of air conditioning, the wall decorations, how the new dentist is having a hard time paying bills (that makes me feel better), and other small-talk minutia ad nauseum.

Now, I rather enjoy listening to strangers and asking questions to learn more about them. But not when I can’t say anything in response; not when the discussion is mindless generalities. And definitely not when I’m getting my teeth cleaned (something I’ve always enjoyed).

To top off the bad experience, I was seemingly misdiagnosed in my exam, and my the dentist was all but begging my wife for repeat business. I guess it’s time to find a new dentist.

How do you achieve mental toughness?

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Lindsey and I have been training for a long distance run this fall. It’s one of the toughest physical goals I’ve ever set, at least in terms of endurance, which often leaves me discouraged. In short, while my body is not fatiguing, my mind is. It makes me feel mentally soft.

So I ask you, dear Smooth Harold readers. What do you do to obtain, maintain, and demonstrate mental toughness when the going get tough? What do you do to get “in the zone” and find the courage to keep pressing on physically when the finish line seems so far off?

I frackin’ love summer.

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Earlier this morning, I drove to the store to get gas for Lindsey — she was running late and still getting ready for an upcoming appointment with the girls. I walk outside, and I’m greeted with the warm blanket and smell of liberty that is summer weather. I love it.

Last weekend, I helped chaperone a youth camp in Eden, Utah for 10 boys and nine girls (a deflated tubeing ride pictured). Notice the contrast of the bluish lake, the rolling green hills, the snow-caped mountains, and clear sky in the background. Beautiful, not to mention the 85 degree weather the group enjoyed that day.

So if I had to rank my favorite seasons, they would be as follows: 1) Summer, by a long shot; 2) Fall; 3) Spring; and 4) Winter, a very distant fourth (I say “boo” to you, cold weather). What’s your favorite time of the year?

Giving someone the benefit of the doubt lessens aggravation in life

The Utah Department of Transportation is currently widening the road (800 N) in front of my apartment. It hasn’t been the end of the world, but it’s still a nuisance — not only for local residents but for street side retailers trying to drive business.

One such retailer, a truck dealership, began commandeering the unfinished lanes in front of his property over the weekends (while UDOT isn’t working) to showcase his trucks and lure in customers. When I first saw this a couple months back, I said to myself in snooty fashion: “He can’t do that. He doesn’t own those lanes — those are public.”

Continue reading…

I got ‘high’ while running last week

Homer runningI started running again in March and have so far been consistent with my efforts. It marks the first time that I’ve done so in three years.

Last week, I had quite the experience towards extending my determination: I got high while running — a natural/adrenaline high, that is. But it wasn’t the kind that enthuses for a passing moment. It was one of the strongest, most euphoric natural highs I’ve ever had. So much in fact that it encouraged me to run farther and longer than I ever have.

This unshapely body isn’t dead yet!

My eccentric taste in music doesn’t go unnoticed

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My whole life I’ve been ridiculed by numerous persons for my taste in music, my wife Lindsey included. Imagine my satisfaction then, to discover her current iTunes playlist, of which 43 percent of the songs were introduced to her by yours truly (highlighted in blue). Not bad, eh?

I can’t take all the credit, however. The following individuals have greatly influenced my love of music from five years of age to my current 28: My mom and dad. My sisters Summer and Lexia (Cami and Sara weren’t the most vanguard at the time). My brother Brooks. Dylan Denney. Josh Rhine. Wesley Lovvorn. Tim Mobley. Chris Carrino. Chris Chatlean. Tim Ormond. Micah Alldrege. Jon Reed. Jared Richards. Lindsey Snow. Eric Larsen. Steven Smith. Matt Andersen. David Cole. Chris Morell. Kyle Crane.

I’m forgetting several more, but those are the ones that stand out. Thanks for tipping me off to distinct tune-age, all!

Back in the camping saddle again

I work as a volunteer youth leader in my not-so-spare time. Last week, I offered to chaperone a campout for the following Friday, even though I hadn’t been camping in more than five years (note: I define camping as at least sleeping in a tent).

To be honest, I initially decided to go to merely show my support for the younglings. Up until then, I had largely written-off camping as a boring activity I’d like to avoid in favor of sleeping on a comfy Serta mattress in a controlled environment.

I have since changed my mind, however, taking a strong liking to the removal of technology and simple satisfaction found in pitching a tent, cooking a limited meal, and surrounding a fire with friends. My recent experience was so positive, in fact, that I convinced Lindsey to let me splurge on a complete camping set the following Saturday.

Suffice it to say I’ll be going more frequently now. I’m still camping retarded, but I’m anxious to become one with nature again… and then return to my comfy Serta.

My commentary on recent happenings

img5.jpgI returned home from a press junket to Baton Rouge on Wednesday, and here are some thoughts I haven’t had time to talk about:

  • I enjoy coming home from a trip and am convinced the flight into Salt Lake City is one of the prettiest in the nation.
  • Blackened alligator is better than sushi — confirmed!
  • Louisianians fry more food than my native Georgia. Impressive.
  • As has been customary, I’m entering the travel period of my year as the gaming industry gears up for its big fall push. I travel only 6-7 times a year, and prefer it that way. I’m an unadventurous city-slicker who is also a homebody. I even choke up a little when leaving for a short trip.
  • Maddie, my six-month old looks really cute in shades.
  • My wife’s sausage manicotti is delicious.
  • Regular exercise is difficult for me. After three weeks of steady running, I let it slip this week.
  • On a personal note, I just learned of the sudden passing of Jeff Jones in December at the hands of Leukemia. I considered Jeff a close, friendly, and respected professional colleague and worked extensively with him in 2006 and early 2007 before losing touch last summer. I would have his surviving family, friends, and associates know that Jeff was genuinely one of the kindest individuals I’ve had the pleasure of working with. He will be missed.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

Now with 100% more milkman

According to Wikipedia, milk was first delivered in bottles on January 11, 1878. As of April 14, 2008, it is still delivered to Wasatch Front doorsteps in plastic jugs.

Though Lindsey and I had heard and tried Winder Dairy in the past, we recently become customers in a cooperative with our downstairs neighbors, the Johnstuns. We pay about a dollar more per gallon than we would at retail. The milk (not to mention bread, cheese, and whatnot) is not only deliciously fresh, but it’s delivery method is loaded with history, something I’m convinced makes the cow extract taste even better.

To my surprise, milk is still delivered in isolated regions of the United States, but it’s seemingly a rare luxury for most. It’s amazing how long older technologies can endure, and with the quiet resurgence of web-to-order grocery delivery, the milkman may still have a future.

Fun Fact: I was in talks with Winder Dairy many years ago as a web consultant to redesign their website.

Fondue is my new favorite food

For whatever reason, Lindsey started making delicious cheese and chocolate fondue for dinner last December. We’ve had it five or six times in little more than three months now, and I’m in love — particularly with the cheese dipped French bread.

My wife’s recipe is even better than the Melting Pot (no kidding) and comes at a substantial discount. For a mere $40, you can feed six adults fresh bread, strawberries, apples, bananas, lil’ smokies, pound cake, pretzels, marshmallows, and oreos with chocolate to spare. It’s so win.

So dust off that fondue set you received as a wedding gift but never used. You won’t be disappointed. In the off chance you are, I’ll harass you like sushi-junkie.

Fun fact: The Swiss invented fondue to enable the digestion of stale bread that had become so hard it could be “chopped with an ax.” Oh, and don’t mouth the dipping fork, you pig.

Major gas leaks are heinous, man

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I looked outside my living room window last week to find quite the commotion. There were numerous service vehicles, police officers, firemen, and gas technicians eerily backing away from my condo. It should be noted that the department of transportation is widening the road in front of my place.

So I step outside my door to hear and smell a gas leak. A pretty sizable one, according to my senses. Continue reading…

Ask questions first, spank later

225_shrek2.jpgI learned a valuable and humbling lesson as a parent yesterday: the unharmed sister or brother isn’t necessarily the one to blame. In other words, don’t jump to conclusions.

After feeding both Sadie and Maddie early in the morning while Lindsey slumbered, I laid Maddie on our tall ottoman to perfect my laptop father skills. Moments later, while entrenched in technology, I heard a “Maddie’s falling” accompanied by a heavy thud. I looked up from my PowerBook to find a suspicious looking Sadie standing over a fallen Maddie, who was now crying loudly.

Continue reading…

It feels good to even up with Uncle Sam

Lindsey and I finished our taxes early this year, e-filing on Tuesday with our people. It feels good to put that one in the “completed” folder.

What’s more, I saved a grundle in 2007 by filing as an s-corp instead of a partnership (note: the federal government does not recognize an LLC, a state entity, so Uncle Sam defaults to a partnership filing for tax purposes). Couple that with an additional tax credit for our second child born in October, and the Snow family will be spoiled with its first return in three years.

The downside: flat revenues also contributed to the return, though I honestly can’t complain. Not one bit. Have you done your taxes?

Gordon B. Hinckley dies at 97

A statement from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints reads: “President Gordon B. Hinckley, who led The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints through twelve years of global expansion, has died at the age of 97… from causes incident to age.

“His quick wit and humor, combined with an eloquent style at the pulpit, made him one of the most loved of modern Church leaders. A profoundly spiritual man, he had a great fondness for history and often peppered his sermons with stories from the Church’s pioneer past.”

In my lifetime, I respected this man as a prophet of God.

Cultural Learnings of 2007 for Make Benefit of Smooth Harold

BoratI’m no fan of new year’s resolutions. I think individuals should resolve to improve on a daily, weekly, or monthly basis, not yearly. But I am big believer in learning from the previous year, which brings me to my list of top educational attainments and the last post of 2007.

  1. More really is merrier.
    I’m the proud father of two girls instead of one as of October. Before the latest arrival (Hi, Maddie!), I errantly thought that two kids would double the parenting workload. In reality, it feels more like a 1.5 workload with a 2.5 return. Challenging, yes, but even more rewarding than I imagined. Continue reading…

My wife likes near-empty trash bags; I like to pack it in

We have a little trash extraction system in the Snow household: Lindsey empties our trash cans with haste and leaves the bag just outside our front door for me to take down to the dumpster at a later time so she doesn’t have to scale the three flights of stairs from our penthouse rental. It’s a good system.

I didn’t always think that way, however, as Lindsey apparently doesn’t like to fill the trash bags with dross before readying them for the dump truck (not to mention the fact that she buys the nicest, most expensive bags money can buy). It gets worse just before company comes over as was the case yesterday. Before the company arrived, I took out a trash bag that was less than two-thirds full.

This would have bothered me in our first year of marriage having been reared in a house where you literally had to jump on a trash bag to fit everything in. But now being a “seasoned” married individual of more than four years, I just chuckle when taking out light loads.

The upside to Lindsey’s fastidious trash habit? We’ve never had a spill, leaky bag, or stinky kitchen in our house during marriage.