the weird chick

Holy Crap, I’m Getting Married

July 7th, 2014


I’m getting married. In one week. Holy crap. I went and got my marriage licence after dropping the boy off at work; it didn’t take very long, only about half an hour or so. Working the night shift is exhausting, but there are some perks. Mostly the perk of being able to do things when everyone else at work. I hate lines and crowds. Costco on a Saturday afternoon? Hell on Earth. Costco on a Tuesday at 10am? Wonderful. Apparently city hall functions similarly, since there were only two people ahead of me in line.On Monday, July 14, 2014, my fiance and I will be officially a legal couple. Yup, the government will finally recognise our love. It isn’t true love until the government recognises and sanctions it, and provides you with a variety of tax breaks! It’s mindbogglingly surreal to me. I never wanted to get married. Actually, back in high school, I was vehemently against marriage, proudly declaring “I’m never going to get married”, instead of saying it the usual way: into a carton of ice cream while slobbering into a box of tissues.

My parents divorced when I was eleven; it was an amicable divorce and they still get along very well, and they’re both in happy relationships, but neither of them ever remarried. My dad has been with the same woman since before my parents moved into separate houses! (They were already separated, and my mom was very happy for him.) So I grew up seeing an unhappily married couple, who then split to become happily unmarried couples. Well, for my mom, the happy came later. She apparently has really, really, really bad taste in men. Turns out my dad was probably a fluke. I think I’ll save the story of the crazy stalker for another time, as well as her old man phase.

Early on in the beginning of our relationship, we both agreed that we weren’t planning on ever getting married. We were both happy with that. What changed? I have no idea. Honestly. Best guess I have is that we really want those tax breaks. How’s that for true love? Actually, the more thought I have given it, the less I have been able to think of a reason why I don’t want to get married. I wonder if I ever really had a reason. Being contrary has always been a hobby of mine, so that might have been what sparked my anti-marriage sentiments; that, or I could go with the easy reason of “my parents divorced, wah”.

Weddings seem to be the thing that I was really against. They seem such an extravagant waste of money to me, and it leaves me wondering how many people are excited to actually be married, versus being excited to have a wedding. Couldn’t that $20 000, or whatever insane number people spend on one day be better used to give your life together a good start? Maybe contribute it to your retirement so that you guys can stop working a little sooner and spend more time together? I guess people can spend their money however they want, but I just don’t understand.

We decided to elope. After spending too long (which means an hour or two) stressing over how to have an inexpensive one, how to fit his massive family into one place without renting a hall, and the fact that almost every female I wanted to invite deserved a spot in the bridal party (can all your guests be bridesmaids?), we decided to not do any of it. I don’t know why I even thought so much about it; I hate weddings. The ceremonies, anyway. So boring! And the thought of standing in front of a bunch of people, no matter how much they love me, and talking about feelings and whatnot makes me feel like fainting. So instead, in one week, our officiant is coming to our house, and we are signing all the paperwork while our parents watch (because apparently watching people sign paperwork is enthralling). Done! Then we leave for a couple days of camping. That’s it. And I could not be happier with it.

I’m not taking his name, nor are we hyphenating. We’re choosing a brand new name. It was a decision we came to probably much more quickly than we should have. I was conflicted on what to do for the longest time. Personally, I think the tradition of taking the man’s name is loooong outdated, but I also hate my grandpa (he’s a horrible person, trust me) from whom I got my name. Apparently the boy was having similar thoughts, because he asked me if we should choose a new name. He, too, thinks his grandpa, from whom his name came, is a horrible person. Picking a new name is so hard though. I can’t decide. He has one that he likes, but I’m not so sure I like it. Oh well! We’ll figure it out eventually.

The Sunday before, we’re having friends over to celebrate with us, and the Sunday after, we are having our parents, grandparents, and siblings over for lunch. Then for the one year anniversary, I want to have something slightly larger (a backyard barbecue at my dad’s) with our aunts, uncles, and cousins as well. I grew up spending a lot of time with my cousins, so we are all fairly close. Unfortunately, one of them is out of the country all summer and I don’t want him to be the only one who didn’t come.

Getting this ring at some point. Need to get my size checked again; I forgot. The engagement ring I have is a little tight, so I think I had the wrong size before, anyway. I haven’t been wearing it lately; I’m either suddenly allergic to it, or soap is getting trapped underneath and irritating my skin (I can’t take it off to wash my hands because it’s tight and very difficult to remove). Not really in any rush to get it. I suppose we’ll have to find one for him, too. If he wants one. I’m not too concerned with it.

Overall, I’m nervous, but excited. It’s a contradictory mood that is wreaking havoc on my poor stomach. If my insides haven’t made their way outside before Monday, I will have many pictures of the beautiful Canadian Shield. And my dog.

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