Wednesday, July 28, 2004

Marriage is Like a Box of Chocolate...

You never know what you're going to get... And it feels especially good when you're really PMSing!

It's funny, I've been married for almost two years now and I have to say, it's really flown by. It's strange, when I see people getting who are about to get married, they tend to get cold feet, second guess themselves, the whole shebang. With me, it was strange, despite my having a problem with committing to anything, I never got cold feet. Maybe it's because Sweetie Pie brilliantly handled me. After all, we were engaged on July 17th and married on August 28th, barely enough time to even book the airline tickets, get work off and find someone to feed the pets.

I distinctly remember being nervous on the way to the chapel. Here we were, giggling at the changing leon lights in our black limo, amazed by the tackiness of it all, when this fleeting thought of "OH MY GOD!" entered my mind. But our stupid limo driver wouldn't shut up the whole way, so I never had a chance to even finish that thought. Which is probably a good thing.

I admit that there are times where I look at Sweetie Pie and I think "holy crap, I'm really going to spend the rest of my life with this person?" but then he eats chocolate ice cream and gets it all over his face like a four-year old and I think "wow, I'm the luckiest woman in the world."

I think soon-to-be brides don't appreciate my candor when they say "did the part about 'til death do you part freak you out" and I answer "Not then, but it sure does now!"

Because really, forget commitment phobics like me, is there ANYONE out there who can say that they want one thing for the rest of their lives? I mean there are a lot of things I love, like right now, I am OBSESSED with Chik-Fil-A. Does that mean I'm still going to want a #3 combo with four buffalo sauces in 20 years? I seriously doubt it.

But then I guess that's what marriage is. The decision that you will in fact still love that #3 combo, despite the fact that it may make your arteries completely clogged up and the buffalo sauce gave you acid reflux. And that's what's most amazing about it.

I used to think that people who got married in Vegas were fools who didn't take the sacrement of marriage seriously. And then I found out that as a Canadian, I wasn't allowed to get married outside of the US. Since I still wanted my dream wedding in France, we decided to have the ultimate anti-traditional wedding. And what's more anti-traditional than Vegas?

The ceremony was 15 minutes long (Sweetie Pie later said it could easily have been half as long, since he got bored about three minutes into the sermon) and yet it didn't mean any less, or any more, than the big church wedding the following year.

People always ask us if we felt different after we got married. I always love Sweetie Pie's answer, because he says something along the lines of "I don't know if it's because we lived together before we got married, but it just always felt the same." Which I think he means as a good thing. At least I hope he does.

Did I mention our backdoor is open? Yeah, any robbers reading this, our backdoor is very likely wide open for you to enter our home. D. fed the pets for us while we were in Austin this past weekend. And we're not sure how, but he somehow managed to get the lock on the door handle locked, which we've never been able to do before. Well, of course, then despite our best efforts (OK, Sweetie Pie's best efforts) to get it open again, it wouldn't budge So rather than lose the use of our backdoor, Sweetie Pie went to town with a saw or drill of some kind and sawed through the lock. Problem solved! Door opens again! But of course, now it just won't lock. Which means that if we don't remember the latch, the door can be opened by a dog or the wind. However, it still succeeds at keeping my very obedient cats locked out, as they just stand at the door politely, rather than throw themselves at the door like drunken British football hooligans the way the dogs do.

I came home last night to find the back door wide open and all four pets having a meeting of the minds outside, all laying on the patio together. As I entered the yard, I noticed something had met a tragic death in our yard. Pieces of something's fur or flesh were scattered around. Upon closer inspection, the victim happened to be a brand new bag of cotton balls. Sadly, it looked like it may have suffered for at least 10 to 15 minutes before it finally gave up the fight to live.

Sorry this post wasn't funnier, guess I'm in a whispy mood today. I'm pretty sure that's not the right word, but whispy feels right. I guess there's nothing funny about love. Man... Does that ever suck!

Love,

Catwoman

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