Engaged to be Wed (aka Doom)

February 24, 2015 § Leave a comment

Is #tossbacktuesday at thing? Oh well, I’m re-running away. Feeling overwhelmed with bridal woes I’ll revisit the moment of inception that put this wedding into incubation. I’m ready for it to be over. I’m ready to be a wife and get on with it. Bridey doesn’t suit me, I’d rather be the boss of something. The good part is it’s mostly just toasting and drinking and toasting left to do. 

This is not a drill. I’m engaged.  THE Mister Red (and dreamiest strawberry blonde on the planet) purchased a diamond and asked very nicely if I would be his newest piece of property. It was thrilling. I’ll save the boring details for another rather gushy post. But now I would like to let you in on the thoughts swimming in my brain since I got my flashy new piece of ice.

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1. I didn’t know everyone was going to be so happy for us. They don’t tell you people are going to be so happy at your face. All the time splashy happiness. Every two seconds someone is being happy at me. It’s pretty crazy.

2.It’s not like people didn’t see it coming, I’ve lived with the man for 3 years, we’ve been knocking boots for 4 and we know too much about each other’s bank accounts. There isn’t much left to change besides my last name (which I am looking forward to because it’s going to be an alliteration. I love alliterations).

3. I’m already an ungracious host. I run out of things to say when people are being all happy in my face.

“You got engaged?”

“Yup, I got engaged.”

“Congratulations, that’s so wonderful! You guys are the cutest!”

“Thanks.” And that’s all I got.

I’m so bad at this stuff. We’re engaged that’s it. I got a pretty ring. We’ll undoubtedly have a really expensive party that everyone else will have opinions about. All I really want to do is snuggle up to watch Star Wars with my honey and make jokes. I’m trying to master Yoda’s laugh because I’m pretty sure I’m going to be him for Halloween. This is where my mind is. Not on dates, venues, or bridesmaid dresses. I’d like to practice a Jedi mind trick for that instead.

4. Why can’t it go on any finger you want? My left ring finger is the grossest of all my fingers. It has the ugliest writer’s nubbin on the knuckle too. Guess it’s an engaged writer’s nubbin now.

5. I hate (and have always hated) the term fiancé. Too many syllables. If I could have gone from boyfriend to husband, I would have. It’s going to be a short engagement because I don’t want to have a fiancé for very long. Fiancé is one ‘n’ away from ‘finance.’ Coincidence? I’m constantly reminded that I have to finance a wedding.

Also I just keep thinking about that episode from Seinfeld. You know the one, “maybe the dingo ate your baby.”  Will that ever stop? Because it just makes me giggle. Every time I say it. I don’t want to be that woman. Is there a synonym? Like F. Mony. Short for future matrimony. But that’s also an ‘e’ away from ‘money.’ Ironic?

6. This engagement put me in the dog house for the first 3 years of marriage, at least. Hardest person in the world to surprise, right here. Yup, I figured it out. Well, I had an inkling. And instead of trusting that it was going to be wonderful, I saw it coming and had to poke holes in the plot line (although, this quality also makes me a good editor). He did a bait and switch, and because Mister Red is an excellent improvisor, it was just as magical as planning every detail out before hand. As my first act of groveling, this is my public apology. Dear Red, I trust you. I’m sorry for being a crazy skeptical person thus ruining the surprise you’d been arranging for weeks. 

7. At first I wanted to plan everything about the wedding all at once. Then I wanted to plan nothing at all. Now I realize we have to plan whether I like  it or not. This is because of parental expectations. My mother has already informed me she will be wearing navy blue. I guess that’s one thing I don’t have to decide. Mister Red thinks we can do it all in a weekend. I think we might need two.

8. You can’t change your insurance without a marriage license. So, good thing I’ll be getting one of those soon.

9. Whatever happens, the dude abides. What if we had a Big Lebowski Themed wedding at a bowling ally and everyone just came in their bath robes and we toasted with white russians? Why can’t that be a thing? My mom can still wear navy blue!

10. I don’t want to get caught up in it all. I want someone to pull my hair [hard] if I start stressing about flowers or desserts. We should have eloped in our pajamas with that puppy when we had the chance.

11. A Bachelorette Party is the best excuse I’ve ever had to get my friends together and go wine tasting whether they like each other or not. It’s like all the birthday parties I’ve never had rolled into one.

12. If anything I’m relieved. We committed to each other for the long haul a while back, so my love and commitment hasn’t notably grown in the past couple weeks, but the relief I feel is apparent. I do feel more like a team. We got a diamond on it. I feel less alone, comforted by the fact that we share each other’s load. He’s helping carry mine and I’m helping carry his. And that’s what it’s all about. Not rings, not navy blue mother’s dresses, not surprise engagement parties (but it was so much fun, I want to hug everyone all at once, and I’m not a hugger). We get to have this sweet ride. See where it takes us, and do it together.

13. Does this mean I have to end my blog? I think I have a few more months.

Registry Madness

February 16, 2015 § 3 Comments

I’m stuck somewhere between being a conventional bride and being a way out-of-left-field, Dr. Seuss-style bride. Sure, I’ve thought about my wedding since I was a wee little gal, but not at great length. I never had wild dreams about it where I planned it all out. I’m also not very good at being an adult, so a lot of etiquette is lost on me because while it’s rooted in tradition, it negates common sense.

Take the wedding registry, a tradition that began in common sense. It’s sentiment is that of the father giving away the bride. He’s giving her away because he doesn’t want her anymore. So he’s going to throw in a bunch of household appliances and kitchenwear purchased as gifts by his friends and family to sweeten the deal. A starter kit for a good wife. See now, it’s all set up and the groom has little to no room for argument. Next stop: Buy a house, followed by have a baby. So simple.

It’s not so simple anymore. When I moved into my first big girl apartment all by myself, I didn’t have a dish to eat off. Over time, salary promotions, and a household merger with my future husband, I’ve acquired many fine dishes to hold food. When we need something, we buy it. My pops doesn’t need to give my fiancé a spoonful of sugar with his medicine. We bought the bag of sugar ourselves. Classic wedding logic works no longer.

This tradition now puts us in a pickle. They say register as soon as you get engaged. People want to give you gifts. SAY WHAT?! I think this is silly, and a lie. It’s not like these people asked us to get married, and the gift part isn’t the reason why we are getting married either. It’s to shut our parents up once and for all (until they want to have grandchildren). Most people’s subconscious when they are invited to weddings are like, “I’ll bring a gift that relates to my fun-time expectation barometer. Probably cash, but if I’m at the old person table I’m knocking off $50.”

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If people are invited to a shower they be like, “Damn, now I got to get her a gift she’s picked out herself, but will probably return.” It’s hard to get jazzed to give a gift that has already been chosen for you. Sure, it makes it easy for someone who doesn’t know you that well, or your uncle who’s constantly getting it wrong, but it doesn’t make it more fun.

How could I make this fun for my guests? It was a mind bender. Which is why I did the total wrong thing and procrastinated registering for gifts until three months before the wedding. What we really need are upgrades of products we already own, replacements for worn hand-me-downs, and cold hard cash. What we really wanted was decor that reflected our style and humor, adventure gear (camping is expensive for a sleeping on the ground activity), and cold hard cash.

 

Fortunately for us, jazzing up the run-of-the-mill registry was pretty easy. After all, there is a whole industry dedicated to this stuff. We registered on Zola.com because we were too far past the point of department store laser tag. We had to do something quick that didn’t want to make us gouge our eyes out. The best part was being able to write a note on each item, explaining why we wanted it. It’s like lobbing for your list of top gifts. But half way through we started not to take it seriously, so there are a lot of jokes too.

Maybe offensive to die-hard fans of wedding etiquette, but totally entertaining as you scroll through yet another registry of items people in third world countries have never seen. Another note on this off script registry, the giving is done on the digital plane. You buy online and send to my house. Super easy for you, and it cuts down on my present opening anxiety (which is a real big issue for me). Also, eliminates the transportation of goods. I’m really pleased I won’t have to drive a Uhaul to my wedding.

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It’s difficult to ask for cash at a shower. I got pots and pans, but I really need a fridge, okay? But we set up the refrigerator fund anyway. So far ZERO contributions. We were able to register for things we actually wanted like a tent and weird movie posters as well as things we actually needed like a new can opener. You don’t know how desperately we need this $9 can opener. Someone please buy it for us (it’s been years).

I hope the guests who know us well understand that we have a Shark Bathroom and we really want to deck it out like a boss. I hope the guests who don’t know us realize that we aren’t kidding about the Star Wars pillow cases. We designed it for people to get creative and celebrate what we all mutually enjoy. Mostly booze, movies, and funny tv shows.

And when should we enjoy these items? Etiquette says we have to wait until after we are married. I did not find this out until I snap chatted a fun thank you with a full glass of wine to a dear friend who bought me the wine glasses. What?! Wait to use my wine glasses? We’ve been together for 5 years, lived together for 4 years, would have eloped 3 years ago, put our money together 2 years ago, saved for the ring for 1 year. It’s not like we aren’t invested. There are things that would be harder to do than send back gently used wine glasses, should this thing not go off with out a hitch.

But you know what might make us call off the wedding? Wading through unopened boxes for the next 6 weeks as they stack up around our house. This isn’t a museum, this is my home. My little tiny, apartment home. Although, I have considered the box fort possibilities, I’ve got an actual life outside of this wedding. I ain’t got time to ponder the epic hide and go seek battle that could go down if I wait to use my wedding gifts.

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In the end, I still find it a bit ridiculous to be getting more possessions. When we go to buy something we ask, “Do we need this, or is it just another thing to have?” In the case of the Death Star Cookie Jar, we needed that, and it’s cool. We are just trying to be responsible citizens. It’s nice to have nice things, but it’s nicer to have people you love.

Share your thoughts on wedding registries. Is it a dying wedding tradition in the wake of modern relationships? Should you still have to buy china for people who have been living together for 3 years? Do you frown upon alternative registries? Would you be offended/think its bad juju to open and use a gift before the wedding?

It’s really an anomaly to me, hope you can clear it up.

5 Reasons to Dump a Dude (and a video)

February 11, 2015 § Leave a comment

Just in time for Valentine’s Day, or more importantly, Galentine’s Day (thanks Leslie Knope). Here are some random reasons to dump a dude who’s not worth it.

#1: He has an unconfirmed tick. You’ve seen it on the first couple dates, and are now on the look out. You end up paying more attention to a twitch sighting than what he’s saying. Translation: You aren’t that into him. If he was perfect for you, the supposed tick wouldn’t be an issue!

#2 He’s got a trick and he likes to show it off. So he can do a cartwheel. Bravo. The second time he does it in an unprompted,”look at me” fashion, eh dude, this is old news. The third time. He’s not well rounded enough for you. Sit, Stay.

#3 Sex is subpar. Subpar all the time from the beginning of time. It’s not going to get better. You can settle, or you can be honest. If he doesn’t take your notes, maybe it’s time to be friends.

#4 He’s lazy. Don’t date a couch potato unless you are a potato. Have some ambition.

#5 He doesn’t make you laugh. Amendment: He doesn’t make you laugh when you do something laughable (like trip or spill food). Amendment: If he doesn’t get slap stick comedy, it’s just not worth it.

Here are a few more my little Galentines.

How Old?

February 3, 2015 § 1 Comment

Your path may be littered with challenging people. It’s a part of life, right? But if there were no one to test our patience we wouldn’t have all these fun memes like:fdad00c17c99a190424d92b38c3b49b1 1fda85ebf0f711120a53023b7cb6c0d9

 

If our ropes have not been tested for strength we would not know the threshold of our grace. It is through gritted teeth that we smile through the annoyance of arrogance and ignorance. At least that’s how pet peeves are made.

One of my pet peeves is when people want to have a discussion as I’m about to go into the bathroom. It’s like, “Come on, you know all I can think about is urine. How productive will this conversation really be?”

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And another pet peeve is when people dare me to guess how old they are. Unprompted. I don’t want to guess. I know that’s a slippery slope.

I’m terrible at this game. I’m one of those people who wouldn’t be able to tell if you dyed your hair purple until three weeks too late. “Something’s different about you, but I can’t put my finger on it.” Same thing with weight gains and losses. Unless you really let it go, I’ll probably just think you got stung by bees. A lot of bees.

Not to mention age is a different beast all together. Take me for example, I look like I’m a good 6 or 8 years younger than I am, and my voice is probably 4 years younger than that. It’s true, as a 31 year old woman, I could pass for 24 if you didn’t look too closely at my crow’s feet (come on, eye cream). But I’m not going to prompt you to guess my Chinese astrology. That would be rude.

So I was me, minding my own business–literally, I was steps away from the bathroom. I had to pee, and I had been holding it for a bit. This was my escape. Then I was cornered by a challenger. “Seriously, how old do you think I am?” She asked, as if we had had a long conversation about it already. We didn’t.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to guess,” I said. This is always my response to the inquiry. I don’t ever lie or fib, and I could already tell my response was not going to be welcomed. I really wanted to pee instead. In fact, I was truly distracted by my brimming bladder, I couldn’t even come up with a ball park decade.

“No, really, guess how old I am,” she persisted. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. If I do guess and I guess too old, or too accurate, I’m an asshole. If I guess obviously too young to cover my ass, I’m clearly lying. No one wins this game.

“I can’t,” I said. I had only one thought. BATHROOM NOW.

“Just guess.”

“I’m not going to guess,” but you’re acting like a 4 year old, “you’re going to have to tell me,” because I don’t give a shit, I just want to relieve myself. 

Boasting with the pride of a child who just lost their training wheels, I am finally allowed the answer. With a generous head nod and a big, fake W-O-W, I’m finally able to complete the last two steps behind the lavatory door. That was a close one.

“Age ain’t nothing but a number.” I once met an older man resembling Santa who wore a t-shirt that read that. Then I was strapped to his belly and jumped out of an air plane. It was the 400th time he’d been sky diving. It was my first.

I have to really think hard about age to give any number gravity. I want to honor it, the time, the climate, circumstances of the year of birth, old or young. Otherwise, I don’t consider it relevant to most discussions. If you are an adult living in the world today, we can have an ageless conversation. It is insulting to assume that I would not get a reference that dates 20 years ago. And if I didn’t, I would surely love to hear the explanation. Knowledge is power.

As for physicality, age is transient. We will never age like the generation before us. We age by how we take care of ourselves, armed by the science of our culture. 60 today does not look like the 60 of 30 years ago or 30 years into the future. We have things like sunscreen now, and we may be living on Mars soon.

Of course that doesn’t take away from the wisdom your years awards you. Or perhaps, the crazy you have developed over the years, but that varies from person to person and it would be truly ageist of me to generalize that all 90 year olds are bat shit. They aren’t. Just the challenging ones.

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****As you might have noticed, I took last month for myself. You can find me posting new musings bi-weekly, and repeats on the off weeks. Mostly Tuesdays, or Wednesdays. 

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