Once more with feeling!

Happy, happy Thursday my little chickens!

I am fully aware that I have talked a fair amount of shit about the venerable institution of marriage over the last few years. I really thought that marriage was pretty much a contest in which psychological damage was inflicted on one partner by the other (and vice versa) through passive aggression, sarcasm, and barely concealed resentment, until one of them died. The last one to die was the winner. What did they win? Not being dead. Fan-frigging-tastic!

Anyway, once I discovered that game wasn't nearly as much fun as it seemed at first blush and I cashed in my meager pile of chips and bolted.

I lose, right?

Wrong.

Because, once again the universe reminds me that, sure, I might look smart, but don't know fuck all about the grand movements of the celestial spheres that govern all of our destinies.

Because, little chickens, I am getting married. Again. In 79 days.


The Gipester and I have tried to think of reasons not to do this. Trust me. He was militantly anti-marriage when we met. No way was he getting married again. Nuh uh. Never gonna happen.

See, he didn't know anything about the movement of the celestial spheres either. Ha!

But, fact of the matter is, we're in love. Normal, healthy, supportive love. And we just can't let that go to waste, so marriage it is.

I really am considering this post an introduction to the Bridezilla series. Just 'cause I'm engaged doesn't mean I'm any less neurotic. Really, I'm starting to think about things like:

"Is it okay to ask G to delete all of the emails tagged 'dating' in his inbox?"
"Is it unreasonable to tell him that I want the ring from his previous marriage the hell out of the house before the wedding?"
"Is putting my hands over my ears and screaming LALALALALALALAAAA! the best way to respond to his reminiscing about his first wedding?"
"When I joke about having kids and he makes some vague comment about us getting too serious, should I worry?"

See kids, this is gonna be FUN!

Plus, there's going to be cake. You've gotta love cake.

Peace, chickens.