I took introduction to psychology in college so I have a general idea of what the term "passive aggressive" means. It wasn't until recently, however, that I really got to witness it in person.

Apparently my husband has decided that this is his newest way to complain about the things I do without actually complaining about them.

Here are a couple of examples, which could easily be compiled with a slew of others for a "passive-aggressive husband reference manual":

The other day my kids and I went out to lunch with a couple of other moms and their kids. I don't eat out for lunch all the time, and this was an impromptu get-together. I had packed my husband a lunch that morning for him to take to work so he had leftovers. When he gets home he tells me this: "The guys at work said, 'Let me get this straight...she gets to eat out for lunch and you have to eat leftovers? Man, that's messed up!' Ha-ha!"

Translation: He's ticked off that I got to eat out and he had to eat leftovers.

My husband recently did some volunteer work with the guys at church that involved a lot of physical labor and when he got home he said, "Bob told me he was so glad that his wife and daughter were out of town because after we finished up he was going to go home and take a long nap without interruption. Ha-ha!"

Translation: He wants to take a nap but knows that we already agreed that he would take the kids so I could get some work done. He's hoping I suggest he takes a long nap and I'll just stay up until two in the morning working.

How do I know it's all passive aggressive? These comments don't even go with the flow of conversation. They come out of nowhere, and he gives a long pause afterward as though he's waiting for me to fall to my knees and beg his forgiveness for going out to eat with my friends/not offering him a four hour nap/whatever else I do that ticks him off.

As memories of six days of sea and jungle explorations sink in, my eyes open to an old truth about myself.

Years ago I toyed with thoughts of Peace Corp service, working my way around the globe, or a job "in country" with an NGO. When my ability was questioned by parents fearful of such a life, and as my debts rose, I abandoned those dreams. I came to think them ridiculous. (Handy mechanism, to reject away what you actually love but cannot have. It makes the not-having easier to bear!)

But seeking cross-cultural connections and serving others are the only things I've ever felt called to do. Now I'm curious: Can I tap into the strength of purpose I've always had down deep and honor my interests and pursue my dreams?

These days I have more tools in my toolbox and take much better care of my emotional self. Debt can be managed, and my relationship with Rob doesn't have to keep me stuck. Where before I saw obstacles, I now see creative ways to manage concerns. I see opportunity.

With Rob's evolving understanding and acceptance that I can't play the role of a typical wife, and a bit of saving and investigation, I might just be able to get what I always wanted.

This would not be an easy life, to be sure. But fearless exploration of my interior as I trek through new exteriors, and a strong home base from which to depart and return, no longer seem unattainable. Unconventional perhaps, but not unachievable.

A few months before I got married, my brother came to visit. We thought it would be fun to have a night out on the town.

Sidenote: My brother is two years older than me and we have always been close...he's my hero, and I always thought of him as an ideal man. I think a lot of little sisters idolize their big brothers, and I'm no exception.

The evening started out as a lot of fun. He and I and a few friends went to a popular dance club and had a few drinks, and after we all hit the dance floor it wasn't long before I realized I couldn't find him. I headed upstairs to the other dance floor to see if I could find him and there he was, kissing some random woman.

A describe her as "random" because she wasn't his wife. His wife — my sister in law — was back in our hometown, having missed the trip because she had to work. Yes, this woman on the dance floor kissing my brother was indeed random, and I didn't know quite what to think about the whole situation.

I stormed up to him and yelled, "What are you doing?!" Anyone who didn't know the situation would have thought I was his wife with how enraged I was. My friends didn't understand why I was so angry. After all, boys will be boys, right?

This was way more than my brother cheating on his wife, although that did indeed tick me off. What really freaked me out was that I was about three months away from getting married, and the guy who I thought was a great example to all other men was shattering my illusions right before my very eyes.

I yanked him off the dance floor and demanded, "Tell me now...is this what all guys do?" He replied with, "Yeah, every guy does this." It wasn't until I burst into tears that he hurried to add, "Well, not guys like your fiancé. He's different. I can tell."

He was trying really hard to placate me.

I'm back from a girlfriend getaway in paradise. Travels with a best friend off the beaten path awakened more joy in me and soothed my soul, but also left me wondering...

Why can't I capture a sense of fun and wonder in the every day life I already have? Why do I put up with pressures and jobs and people I don't like? Because I think I'm resigned to my lot and can't effect change for the better?

Why do I feel so stuck here in Boston, but I was free as a bird in Mexico?

One idea: I was wearing no wedding ring. I wasn't seeking romantic or sexual attention from men. But I think the ringless finger — and people's assumptions about my lack of attachment — invited more open responses and deeper interactions than I would have otherwise experienced.

One afternoon my traveling companion and I looked up from our reading to see a man snorkeling in the heavy surf. Curious. He emerged onto the beach with a string of fish and spear. We dropped our books and marched over to investigate. He saw us approach and waited to show us his catch of red snapper, octopus, and lobster.

In bits of English and Spanish we learned were evening snacks to enjoy with some friends. He was perfectly sweet and answered all our questions, with no suggestion of interest beyond the subject at hand. But he told us if we brought some beer, we could come try some of the grilled fish. Fun!

Unfortunately, we had other plans. But judging by his manner and our rapport, I think if we had taken him up on the offer we would have found a relaxed local scene in which we felt perfectly comfortable: an evening on the beach with some new friends. But were a ring on my finger, this might not have come to pass.

Roxie, Lila and I flew to Arizona last week for my niece's high school graduation. Most of my family is down there in the desert.

My parents live in a cookie-cutter neighborhood. They've been living in the same house for 10 years, and at night, I'm still not sure which on is theirs.

Every house is that suburban-Scottsdale tan adobe with a terra-cotta roof.

In May the weather is uniform like the architecture. Everyday is hot and sunny.

Our visits are always pretty scripted. They kids stay with my parents, I stay a couple nights there and a couple nights at my brother's, or my sister's.

And it's hot.

Last graduation here, my other niece's, I was pregnant with Lila. It was 100 plus degrees, my shear tank-dress was one layer too thick and no amount of bottled water could quench my desert thirst.

What I love about travel is the unexpected. Visiting family isn't exactly "travel," but it's a break from routine.

And this trip we got a great dose of the surprise. The temperature dropped 50 degrees from 108 on Tuesday to 57 on Thursday.

It was cold and rainy and nothing like late-May is supposed to be here.

The wind blew graduation caps across the fields, and while people huddled under blankets and umbrellas they laughed though the complaints.

And loved it for the great stories that come out of disaster even as it's happening.

For me, that's key to surviving these hard times. Loving them for the stories they will become and laughing a little right now, too.

When the pressure of work, family drama, and troubled marriage overwhelm, I fantasize about leaving town, changing my name, and dropping off the grid for a small but self-sufficient life in the southwestern desert. I don't have much money of my own, but then I don't imagine needing much.

A beat up truck, a dog as companion, and a cozy adobe cottage — that's all I'll need. A pressure-free job at a local dive would pay the bills. I'll be perfectly content writing, exploring desert canyons, and kicking back with a few new friends over beer on rusty porch chairs. No father with Alzheimer's disease to worry about, no student loans to pay, no ambitious career or lifestyle plans in a fast-paced, high-priced northeastern city to frustrate the calm.

Such is my escape fantasy. Do we all have one? Do some people act on them? Are they the brave or crazy among us? I suppose that depends on how troubled their lives were, on how likely they could heal or remain safe, staying put.

This week I depart for a short Mexican vacation. A dear friend who lives on the opposite coast is meeting me for an escape to the beach. We'll sleep in a cabana on the jungle's edge, read in hammocks, and practice yoga on the shore. I anticipate warm air, fresh seafood, and easy conversation.

The temptation to relinquish obligations back home will tug hard. I'll relish the thought of staying behind in a paradise marvelous not so much for its sand and sea as for its lack of strings attached. But no person is an island. I'll be back.

Yay! Vacation. Bring it on!

Well, not vacation, exactly. But as close as I'm getting anytime soon.

We're headed to Arizona for some quality family time and my niece's high school graduation.

My girls and I have been packing this week. OK, technically, Roxie and Lila have been packing and I have been unpacking the inappropriate things they've chosen for the trip.

Replacing long-sleeve dresses and heavy jeans with tank tops, skorts, and cotton capris.

I love traveling alone with my girls. The adventure. Three girls alone on the road, or in the air, as it were. It's empowering to know we can do it ourselves. Even if, technically, I'm going to my family where my kids stay with the grandparents, I stay with my brother or sister and I have way more help than I do at home as the only adult.

Still, even on these totally scripted trips, where little room is left for spontaneous activity, travel feels like possibility.

Even on the "easy" trips, you can't leave home without learning more about yourself. Travel is the ultimate crash course in self discovery.

And there a few things I already know.

We can go anywhere. Do anything we want. Don't need anyone else.

My girlfriend just emailed me and asked if I had "blog block." Yup guess that's it. A name for my condition. I didn't realize it was an official condition till just now.

You may have noticed the date of my last post. So what — you ask — have I been doing?

Well...everything you could possibly imagine and some stuff you wouldn't even believe.

Lately I have only two speeds — GO and PASS OUT — and I maximize every hour of the day I am blessed with.

Funny, I write all day long in my head but apparently my head and my hands have not been communicating. I assume that would translate into Blocked- Head as opposed to Blockhead which is so unfeminine....

So I am in search of the antidote to Blog Block and I aspire to my next post — shortly.

Debbie

My husband wants to go to a marriage retreat. It's for a full weekend, so we would have to leave the kids with someone else and then make the drive five hours to the retreat location. I don't like the idea of leaving my kids with someone else — especially since we don't have any family nearby — but as I keep saying, I'm willing to do whatever I need to in an attempt to save the marriage.

He's inquiring about availability now. I've talked to some couples who have gone to this same retreat and they all sing praises about the program. Apparently this particular program has saved many a marriage and lit sparks under others that weren't troubled but were bordering on stale. Could this be the thing that saves our marriage?

To be honest with you, the very first thought that entered my head when he brought up the idea was, "Damn it, he's going to want to have sex with me." I can see it now...we're away from the kids, away from work, and we're staying in a hotel room. He will think this translates into romance, while I automatically think about how great it will be to sleep without keeping one ear poised to listen for the kids. Ask me if a weekend in a hotel with my husband appeals to me right now, and I'll admit to you that no, it doesn't, not really.

Yes, we still have sex here at home, but it's usually him doing his business while I lay there and wait for him to finish. Take this to a hotel and he'll be expecting me to be all into the act, having a great time and really whooping it up.

It seems to me that a change in environment won't change the things that are stopping me from being truly intimate with my husband, but I know I'll feel compelled to oblige him with at least some physical intimacy.

Wouldn't it be great if these retreats offered separate rooms until other issues were resolved? I'd go to that one for sure.

Marriage is wonderful when it works. Everyone is looking for a happily ever after.

But marriage takes energy, and these days average couples are working harder than ever to keep a marriage together, so you can imagine the challenge for a couple in the limelight, like Star Jones and Al Reynolds.

Someone told me they overheard Star on a plane a couple months ago saying that she and her husband had not even been in the same city over the last few months.

Can't blame the airlines for this long a layover.

For reasons only Star and Al know, one or more things along the way changed up their original gameplan for their version of..."happily ever after." I don't think she had that big wedding with the intention of getting divorced...getting a few freebies, maybe.

No one has a wedding with the intention of getting divorced. No one should judge, though people due to human nature cannot help themselves. Like Star said, "The dissolution of a marriage is a difficult time in anyone's life that requires privacy with one's thoughts."

Regardless of who files for divorce, it's painful and awkward for everyone involved.

There will be some other version of "happily ever after" for her and for him.

Though it's hard to imagine at the time, usually events that force change often bring you to a stronger better place — sometimes just a stronger arm — but hey, that also works.

Everyone who goes through divorce has another version of "happily ever after" within their reach.