Wedding Dresses

OKAY. I have tried, on three separate occasions, to link this blog to some pictures of wedding dresses that I'm considering, and it has never once worked. The links either just take you back to the main dress webpage, or show you a completely different dress than the one I was trying to show you. I don't understand why they make this so impossible to do.

So all I can post is this: check out all of the dresses I will not be wearing on my wedding day.

I bought a dress!

Heyguesswhat? I bought a wedding dress!

Well, I suppose that technically my mother bought it for me. But the important part is that I have a wedding dress! All ordered and stuff!

And the most shocking part is: I GOT A VEIL. I know, right? I wasn't planning on using one at all-- in fact, I used to think they were kind of creepy. Like, why do I have to veil myself? Can you say fundamentalism? But wedding magazines always say to try one on just in case, and it turned out that the one I tried on look perfect with my dress!

Okay, so since the linking-to-dresses operation hasn't been going very well, I'm going to place a lovely photo on the dress on the side bar here, and you can peruse it at your leisure. This picture doens't show the full dress, though, and you can't see the lovely back, so if you want the full picture, do this:

1. Go here.
2. Click on "bridal gowns" in the top left corner.
3. Choose "view all dresses" from the left sidebar.
4. Go to page 2.
5. My dress is in the top row, second from the left. It's style T9264. Click on the dress and it'll show you all the details.

The version of the dress in all these pictures is in white, though, and I got mine in ivory, so it looks a little bit, well, more refined. In fact, with the veil on it looks slightly antique, which is cool.

Oh, and I can't find any pictures of the veil online, but it's ivory too, with detailing that almost exactly matches my dress. I always thought veils were awful, but now I'm totally in love with mine.

And just so future brides know: when you buy a dress from any official wedding dress place, they expect you to buy the special slip and bra, too. These two things are actually what make the dresses look so nice, because they suck you in (the "bra" is actually more like a corset) and give the skirt its shape (the slip contains a massive amount of tulle). So calculate those into your budget as well-- they'll probably run you a little over a hundred dollars unless you get them used, which I certainly didn't count on (although thankfully my mom did).

So to my friends who might get married in the future: if you happen to need a wedding bra in a 34B, or a slip in a size 4 (sizes run small in wedding dresses, so calculate two sizes up-- I usually wear a 2, so they gave me a 4), you're welcome to them once I get married. All yours!

Trying on dresses is such a crazy, weird experience. They have this platform, right, with all sorts of lights, and there are a couple of dressing rooms there, and a huge mirror. And you just try on the dresses and parade around in front of everyone in the store-- in fact, since I had on my bra and slip and was completely covered from bust to toe, I just changed into the different dresses right there in the middle of the store. And random people (other brides, other brides' moms, curious salespeople) will just show up and smile at you and offer their two cents. It's kind of a strange process, and it can feel a little bit stressful. My main problem wasn't that everyone was looking at me, but that they all wanted to know how much I liked or didn't like each dress. The thing is, wedding dresses are specially made to make you look gorgeous, so every wedding dress looked like a million bucks. How could I say anything bad about any of them?

But I'm done with it, now. I feel really really really bad that my mom spent all that money on my dress (I feel gauche telling everyone how much I paid, but just so you guys know, the price of the dress isn't all you have to pay-- you also need those two undergarments as well as alterations before the wedding, and I got a veil, so that was even more). She assures me, though, that it's okay and that she budgeted for this much, and my dad said he planned on spending almost twice that much, so that makes me feel a little bit better.

So this shindig is really going down! Let's do this thing, yo!

Body image post, retooled

So while I deleted the previous post regarding my hurt reaction to my fiance's use of the word "fat" to describe other women, it turns out that it was a pretty popular post, and a lot of people found it interesting and were kind of disappointed to see it disappear. So I'm going to sort of generally discuss my feelings on weight issues and body image here, while first making the disclaimer that my fiance is totally wonderful. I think he made those comments about other women because he thought it would flatter me, not hurt me, and he was just trying to make me feel good about myself, which is one more reason I love him and want to be with him for the rest of my life. In fact, Adam's misunderstanding of women's bodies and the way women perceive themselves is a result of what our culture says about bodies, and was not in any way his fault.

Okay.

Have you noticed how obsessed we've become as a nation with dieting, weight loss, and thinness? I'm not just talking about the constant pressure to get ready for bikini season or shed those pounds and look great in your wedding dress. I'm talking about a pervasive, nation-wide obsession with losing weight as a test of character. Look inside any magazine marketed to women, and you'll find dozens of "inspirational" stories about women who lost 50, 60, even 70 pounds and now are held up to the rest of us as shining examples. Or observe the popularity of "The Biggest Loser" and "Celebrity Fit Club," in which we can follow the entire process of weight loss from tearful start to determined finish. As my friend Erin pointed out, every day on the Today show there's a new "miracle" story about some woman who lost half her weight and is now able to feel good about herself-- as though her intellectual accomplishments are nothing compared to dropping six dress sizes.

I propose that America's fascination with weight loss has two main roots:

Root 1: Thinness as an impossible ideal
I think it started with the models. Fashion models are supposed to embody what we think is most physically beautiful, and they weren't always anorexic fifteen-year-olds. There was a time, in the eighties and early nineties, when we scoffed at Twiggy, and models were supposed to have curves-- they were supposed to have figures, to be like ideal women, not like starved street children. Sure, they were still thin, but we were able to imagine that they still sometimes, occasionally, ate food.

Now, though, designers want models who look will act as hangers for their clothes, not as examples of beautiful women who wear clothes well. They want women who starve themselves until they disappear, and all that is left is the clothing. And thus, the women who model in advertisements, the women who we look at everyday, who the advertising industry tells us are perfect, are women who are starving themselves. And that makes us think hard about what WE, the normal women, look like, in comparison to these toothpicks. Therefore, we are obsessed with watching people lose weight because we think that's the highest ideal, and we want to imagine what it would be like to lose weight, too.

Root 2: Insecurity
Let's face it: we're not watching "The Biggest Loser" because we think all the contestants are nice people and we genuinely want to see them succeed. We want to feel good about ourselves by looking at obese people, and then think to ourselves, "Well, at least I'm not THAT bad."

And the result of all this is that we feel like we MUST lose weight, or else we're big fat cow losers. For example, check out this pitiful post by a sixteen-year-old girl, who happens to be the same girl who posted a freaked-out rant about getting into Vassar on the Vassar LJ last week. She's fucking anorexic, but the comments on her journal are WORSE, because so many strange people are actually encouraging her to continue this one-carrot-per-day, burn-500-calories thing. It's sick and sad, and it's just one more reason why we should stop this ridiculous love affair with thinness and concentrate a little bit harder on improving our minds and characters.

So next time you feel the need to call a girl "fat," think about it. Is she really overweight? Do you know what a normal girl looks like? Or are you comparing her to women you've seen on TV, or in magazines? Real women have hips, and breasts, and a butt to boot, and there's no shame in that, none whatsoever.

An Apology

I've deleted the last post, due to the fact that I am an enormous bitch.

It was very very very unfair of me to make my fiance sound like that. He is good and kind and he loves me for who I am, and he is the most patient man in the world to put up with me as well as he does. He is NOT some cruel, verbally abusive guy who enjoys making me feel fat; he made an offhand comment that wasn't even about me, and I just happened to take it the wrong way, that's all.

We've talked, and he promised not to joke about me getting fat, and now I feel like such an awful bitch for making him so upset. I'm just really insecure, but I hope he can stand me in spite of it.

I love him more than anything in the entire world, and I know he loves me, too. I can't wait to be his wife!

It's Getting To Me...

I'm starting to get a little upset about how big and unwieldy this wedding has become. When I imagine my perfect wedding day, I imagine being surrounded by, I don't know, fifty or so people. I don't like big crowds of people, even if they're family and friends.

But now it seems like everyone in the world has to be invited, or else. Adam has about a bazillion relatives that apparently all have to be invited, and this means more people I don't know, more people staring at me the whole time, and much much much more money than I ever wanted to spend.

I think I'm actually beginning to sympathize with those Bridezilla types, the ones who stamp their feet and insist childishly, "But it's MY day!" The thing is, everyone pays lip service to the idea that the wedding is all about the bride, or all about the married couple, but really it's not about either. It's about everyone else. I mean, this forum on The Knot shows how many brides are afraid of their families and friends A.) not showing up, or B.) not having a good time. With weddings, you spend almost all of your planning time worrying about everyone else, and what they think or want. The whole time, you spend every second trying to make everyone else happy, because if you don't, you'll ruin your relationship with your new relatives, or you'll make friends mad at you. But then you end up with too many people in the wedding party, too many people at your wedding, too much money being spent. And the whole time, you just want to shove the hypocrisy of "but it's all about you!" in everyone's faces, to stand up and shout, "Hey, what happened to what I want?" even if it makes you sound bratty and spoiled.

I'm starting to hate the very idea of a wedding. I feel like I'm married to Adam already-- we're so close, and I love him so much, and want so much to help and protect him, all the time. So why do we have to have some big ceremony? Nothing's going to change when we're married, except that we'll get tax incentives and I'll start referring to him as "my husband" instead of "my soon-to-be husband." So why make a big deal?

Sometimes I wish Adam and I lived on a deserted island.

Notes From The Wedding Summit Meeting

My mom, Adam's mom Alice, and myself all sat down today for a summit meeting regarding the wedding plans. Here's how it's shaping up:

My mother is taking two days off of work before the wedding. On the 18th, we'll spend the day doing things we can do in advance: finishing the jam jar favors, making candied/caramel apples for the kids' favors, getting some small things together for out-of-town gifts (my proposal of Burning River beer for adults and Giannos chocolate for the kiddos [both local products] was met with wholehearted approval), gathering together decorating materials, and so forth. On the 19th, we'll start by decorating the clubhouse for the cookout, then head over to the church and decorate for the ceremony and reception. That will leave us ready at the church for the rehearsal, and then afterwards we'll have the rehearsal dinner at Adam's parents' house (Claire, I hope you can make it for the rehearsal-- I want you to get to come to the dinner so you can meet my new kitten, Charlotte Bront's new little brother! He lives with his mother and brother in a horse trailer at Adam's house. His name is either Macbeth or Titus Andronicus-- we haven't decided yet).

The wedding day will happen like this: I'll go get my hair done with whatever bridesmaids would like to come along and get their hair styled. Then we'll go to the church, get dressed, and at noon, we'll have a wedding. This will be a traditional Episcopal wedding, with communion and everything. The Episcopal Church doesn't care about things like who was baptized what, so anyone can take the sacrament if they'd like, and anyone can choose not to.

Then the bridal party will all go outside for some pictures (which my dad's friend, an amateur photographer, will be taking). After a couple poses, we'll all go upstairs to the parish hall and have a light reception. There will be piano music, a traditional cookie table, and some light fare, like cheese/veggie/fruit platters.

After this, there will be some schlepping, as the cookout (which is the "dinner reception," although it will be incredibly informal) is down in Columbiana County, about 30/40 minutes away. It's on a lake-- the same lake where my shower is going to be held, although in a different building. We'll have cookout food (roasted pork on a spit, chicken, pasta salad, beans, etc.) and also some hunky food (halushki, and maybe pierogi). There will also be some champagne, and a cupcake wedding cake. Mmmmm!

Sound fun? It will be!

It Takes Some Getting Used To

Why is today's featured discussion on The Knot (in which a woman elaborates her moving-in fears) directed only at 30+ brides? Oh, excuse me, you're seven years older than I am, so you clearly must be much more mature...

Um, I think all brides get nervous about married life, and I imagine that grooms do, too. It's scary for anyone, having to live together, depending on one another. I've been living on my own for six years, and Adam's been cultivating his own domestic habits for longer than that, so it's been somewhat difficult to integrate ourselves. It's the little things-- the way I fold laundry, the way Adam loads the dishwasher-- that confuse us, that force us to realize that there isn't a single right way to do any of those stupid, pointless household chores.

Finances, too, are a scary topic. We just combined all of our money into one joint account, but since my monthly income is about $350, and his is about $2,000 more than mine, I always feel bad about spending "our" money. Today I went out on a date with two of my girlfriends, and I vetoed every single "expensive" activity we dreamed up. We ended up going to lunch (where I spent only $4) and then Barnes and Noble, where I felt uncomfortable buying anything other than a 75 cent notepad for myself, a discount book for my sister, and a Spanish language sheet for the sweet hubby.

And it's not like Adam ever makes me feel guilty about the fact that I don't earn money. He'd like it if I got a job, of course, but only so I'd feel personally fulfilled; he's always bringing me presents, always urging me to spend his money, and anytime we're in a store and I mention liking a particular sweater or book or type of cookie, he'll snatch it up and say, "Well, why didn't you tell me you liked this before?" It's not his fault that I feel weird in this money situation. I suppose that, once I have a real job, I'll feel better about it, and I'll be able to feel like a real partner in our relationship and not just an economic parasite.

But there you have it-- the difficulties of living together are not unique to 30+ marriages, and in fact, I think they're even more complicated for us younger folks.

Quoi?!

Anyone else entirely horrified by the concept of divorce rings?

The American Wedding Industry: Bringing You More Crap to Buy Since 1776!

Salwars and Songs

I spent most of the day today doing wedding things-- writing the last of my shower thank-you notes, speaking to the organist about the wedding date, and helping my mother look at dresses for the big day. Now, my mother isn't your typical mother of the bride, so typical matronly dresses seem a little...not her. Therefore, she decided to go Indian-style, with either a black or an orange (see picture at left) salwar kameez. My mother has long been an Indiaphile (and not in your typical "I'm a hippie so I love vaguely Indian skirts and things with elephants on them" kind of way), and these outfits are really her style-- they completely suit her.

In other news, we're trying to figure out the music for this shindig, and I'm a little uncertain as to what I'll do. I know I actually want the traditional wedding march and recessional (especially after so many people derided those songs on The Knot as being "too boring," when they themselves were already doing overdone schticky things like unity candles), but I dunno what to do for the processional and the prelude. I'd like Arrival of the Queen of Sheba (one of my favorite flute pieces to play!), but I think Dick (the organist) kind of prefers the slow stuff.

Anyone have some suggestions? I don't want Canon in D, the Four Seasons, or Water Music, because every silly Knot bride seems to think those are "like, totally original and stuff." Anything else classical but not overdone?

Wedding Nightmares

So just for my own sick amusement, I decided to tally up the responses to this Knot post. The question was about what each bride's worst fear was about their wedding day. I tallied the number of types of responses, and have set them down below, in order of most popular to least popular. The number following each type of response indicates how many brides articulated that response, with some brides giving multiple answers.

What is the biggest fear you have for your wedding day?

Weather will be bad: 30
Family or guests fighting/misbehaving: 30
Will look fat/stupid/ugly/will fall down: 29
Everyone/certain people will not show up: 17
No one will have a good time/like the food/dance: 14
Timing will be off: 9
Uninvited/unexpected guests: 7
Something bad will happen to fianc before wedding: 6
Wedding will be too expensive: 4
Relative will die/get sick before wedding: 4
Will cry the whole time: 3
Allergies/food poisoning/guests getting sick: 3
General anxiety/ social anxiety disorder: 3
People will have trouble finding venue: 2
Will forget something important: 2
Migraines: 2
Not taking enough advantage of "the moment": 2
Will turn into "bridezilla": 2
Will hate decorations: 2
Groom will call off wedding: 1
Church will forget about booking: 1
Priest will mess up vows: 1
Won't have good time: 1
Will get period during wedding: 1
Fianc seeing bride before ceremony on wedding day: 1
Will hate pictures: 1
Have somehow offended groom's family and not known it: 1
Microphone will malfunction: 1
Will mess up own vows: 1
Wheelchair-bound relative will have difficulty: 1
Late guest will ruin everything: 1
Cake won't be delivered: 1
Will feel sick: 1
People will be mad at absence of alcohol: 1
Chose bad date for wedding: 1
Rushing into marriage: 1
Leaving parents' house: 1
Groom will faint: 1

I think this forum said heaps about the self-confidence issues that weddings can cause. I never had a bad dream about my wedding until the night after I read this forum-- that night I had a dream that it was time for the ceremony and I 1) didn't have a dress, 2) had huge knots in my hair, and 3) hadn't actually arranged for any food to be had at the reception.

Do you suppose it's the milestone nature of a wedding that brings out these insecurities? Or do suppose that wedding planning in and of itself has fashioned us into hysterical micromanagers?

A Somewhat Mean Rant About Unity Candles

Disclaimer: I just got off of The Knot boards, so I'm a little worked up right now. I'll calm down, I'm sure.

Over the past thirty of forty years, a shifty little wedding tradition has sneaked out of obscurity to become one of the most popular wedding ceremony styles in the United States. I'm talking, of course, about the unity candle ceremony, which stands as a testament to how stupid people must be if they need to have everything visually represented for them. It is also, I believe, indicative of something Judith Martin (otherwise known as Miss Manners of Washington Post fame) has seen coming for a long time: the theatricalization of the American wedding.

During such a ceremony, the couple's parents (usually the mothers) each light a candle, than present the candle to their respective children. Each member of the couple then uses the candle to simultaneously light another candle, representing the newfound "unity" of the couple and their families (and, I suppose, also representing how fully the American candle industry can dupe people into doing the silliest things).

Why must everything done at a wedding be a performance? I've seen this sort of thing more and more since I started planning: bridesmaids and groomsmen forced to execute elaborate choreography, mothers and grandmothers decked out in painfully identical dresses, and wordy, awkward attempts at poetry during hour-long "personalized" vow recitations.

Why are we all trying to hard to put on a show? It's a wedding, not an audition for the Russian Ballet. Your guests are there because they want to witness a very important moment in your life, not because they were looking for a sweet party on a Saturday night. If they wanted to see a performance, they'd save their gift money and go to the movies instead.

And of course, I might be a little more inclined to indulge unity candle practitioners if they were simply confining the candle to non-religious ceremonies. After all, ever since the 1500s, weddings have been pretty tied to churches, and that sucks for people who want to get married but who don't like/believe in/follow any particular religion. They have a lot of challenges to deal with in terms of planning a ceremony, and for them, I suppose, a unity candle could possibly be a nice, secular moment.

But unity candles aren't only for secular marriages; in fact, they're almost always performed in churches, so much that many people mistakenly assume that they are Christian in origin. In fact, however, the unity candle is not part of any religion's official wedding ceremony, and is usually banned by more conservative Catholic Churches and Jewish Synagogues (and even by some Episcopal Churches, even though we're so accepting and stuff).

Now, this church-and-unity-candle thing I cannot understand. Assume that you are an adherent to a particular religion or denomination, and that you believe in it/ respect it enough to get married in one of its churches. Wouldn't it stand to reason that you'd be okay with at least one of its versions of the marriage ceremony? Why would you need to add in more crap for your guests to sit through? Why is saying "I promise to be with you forever" not enough?

I bet some of you are saying, "I don't believe in God, but there's a very attractive church down the street, with nice stained glass windows and everything. I want to get married there so my pictures look nice, but I don't want any of that God stuff." Well, I say to you: atheism is fine, and a wonderful lifestyle, in my opinion. However, if you don't believe in God, don't get married in a church. I can't believe I have to actually tell people that, but apparently some people believe churches should be used exclusively as photo ops. I, on the other hand, believe that there are plenty of lovely non-church places to get married. Parks, for instance. National landmarks. Wineries. Farms. Waterfalls. Take your pick.

Just because lots of people get married in churches doesn't mean you must, and does not mean that you are entitled to do so. The sense of entitlement among many of my fellow brides is astonishing at times. No, the US Constitution does not guarantee the right to a floofy white wedding dress, a church wedding, and a reception with drinks and dancing afterwards. Do what you can afford, and only do it if it makes sense to you, if it gels with your values and your beliefs. Just because you always wanted to get married in front of a Tiffany window does not give you the right to drag your unity candle into my church, thanks very much.

My aunt and uncle had a great atheist wedding, and they did it whtout having to use a church or a priest. Really, people, the church is optional. I'd also like to point out that they did it without a unity candle as well, but if they would have used one, it would have been far more appropriate (although just as silly and sentimental) to use one in their backyard wedding than in a church affair.

When Adam becomes a priest, I'm going to urge him to ban unity candles, too. What a waste of time and money. Sheesh.

Cute Old People

You all know that I'm not exactly the sentimental type, at least when it comes to romance (I'm pretty sentimental about kitties and hamsters, though!), so usually I wouldn't post something like this. But this NPR story about a couple who met on a blind date after World War II and have been together for 60 years was pretty durn cute.

My favorite part? The tie that the husband wore on that first date had apples on it. APPLES! I need to get Adam an apple tie.

From Wedding to Marriage

Everything went wonderfully. The ceremony was simple and sweet and lovely, the cookie reception was tons of fun, and the picnic was a total blast!

It really was the best day of my life up until now. I didn't expect that to happen, but it did. I've never been that happy.

And now, we embark upon married life! Expect the scope of this page to change somewhat; while I'm always interested in awful wedding stories and tales of grasping, greedy brides, I'm going to be focusing mainly on marriage now, and on how one builds a marriage from the ground up.

And oh goodness, remember The Knot? Well, they've got an entire newlywed site called The Nest, and it is just as awful (expect occasional rants here). The entire thing seems to be not-so-subtly geared towards having babies. I mean, is this really what people do? They get married and then immediately have babies? Doesn't that strike anyone as a potentially bad idea, if one isn't ready? I mean, you're still getting used to living together, having combined finances, shopping together, planning together...don't you think it would be a good idea to enjoy one another for awhile (say, a couple years) before adding a new person to your family?

I for one am perfectly content with my little family here: Adam and me and kitty makes three! Last night I was uploading pictures of the wedding to Facebook, and I look around and Adam is fast asleep on my right side and Charlotte Bronte is fast asleep on my left side. It was such a homey little moment, and it made me realize that we've already built our new family— and that it really doesn't need any screaming babies just yet.

That said, perhaps in seven or eight years, you might find me ranting about The Bump. (God, that will be a trip.)

So close!

Check out the finished bowl to the left!

Only eight more days now. Final details are being arranged, final items are being purchased, final ambiguities are being cleared up.

We're almost there!

Rings, Part Deux

Taking into account the comments I received here (particularly Olivia's— I agree, people like to see the rings displayed) I decided to opt for a tiny decorative bowl from Etsy to carry the rings instead. It's still 4 inches across (same size as the bag) but it displays the rings much more openly. I think Jordan will feel okay about carrying it, too— it's not, like, little-kid-ish or anything.

Thanks, everyone, for all your help!

Hymn Help

Does anyone know where I can find a score for this version of "For the Beauty of the Earth"? The score on the website doesn't want to download.

The Episcopal Hymnal includes the words to this hymn, but set to a different tune, and on another page it gives the tune of this song, but set to different words! I want this particular version, since it's what is sung at the wedding of Meg March in the modern movie version of Little Women, and Meg's wedding in the original novel has been my inspiration for my wedding. But since the right version doesn't exist in the hymnal, I need to find a score that I can photocopy and put in my programs for everyone to sing during the service.

So if anyone can help me out, let me know.

Cake and Final Details

People really need to stop asking me if I'm nervous. Um, I'm about to marry my soulmate. I'm excited, but why would I be nervous? Nothing is changing for us, guys. We're already living together, we already share money and food and toothbrushes and goodness knows what else. We both took that till-death-do-us-part vow a long time ago— this is just a chance for the community to share in what we already know. Why on earth would I be anything but 1) busy, and 2) jubilant?

Anyways, things are starting to get exciting here— Adam and I will be driving to Michigan and back tomorrow to get my sister, and the first of our family/wedding party guests from out of town will be arriving as well. We've got pretty much everything we need worked out; it's just a matter of making it all happen on time, and my mother is a totally organized and super intelligent person, so I'm sure it'll be fine.

Here's a cute story about the groom's cake:

The groom's cake— like my mother's side of the family— is originally Southern in nature, and is supposed to reflect the groom's interests or hobbies. I was planning to make one for the rehearsal dinner, since I thought that having a groom's cake and a wedding cupcake tree would be a little bit too ostentatious for my tastes. And since Adam is a huge football fan and loves the Browns, I thought I'd make him a football cake, with kind of a Browns theme.

So we're driving home last night and I'm nattering on about this cake, and what I was thinking of doing with it and so on. And Adam's all like, "Yeah, that's a great idea!" So I turn to him and I say something like, "That was just one idea; do you have any other ideas for what you'd like your cake to look like?"

Adam thinks for a second, and then he says, "Could it just be, like, a heart? With our names on it or something?"

And that, my friends, is what a wonderful man looks like. :)

Knot Annoyance And A Guestbook!

Two items to discuss:

1.) Since I only have eleven days left before I can no longer frequent The Knot and be scandalized by the boorish and grasping behavior of America's brides, I need to get in some last-minute venting about this post. And since I recently discovered that y'all can't actually access these posts without being signed onto the site, I will reproduce the offending reply here.

The question was in reference to "two-dress brides", who apparently are women with so much disposable income (or so little understanding of their own tastes or proportions) that they went out and bought a wedding dress and then, because they suddenly disliked or couldn't fit into the first dress, promptly bought a second one.

My least favorite reply:

Lol, I am a three dress bride!
1st -Jcrew wedding gown found on ebay for $60 (bought before I knew what type of a wedding I was having!)
2nd - Dress I saw in a magazine 1 yr before I bought it. The dress was being discontinued, store selling the sample in my size for 1/2 the price... so I bought it, only to start having regrets the next day.
3rd - Spent a couple months shopping, and eventually found this dress. Have not had one regret since purchasing! My only regret is that I'm done trying on wedding gowns!
I'm not getting my $$ back from my first one.
The second one I won't either, as it was on sale and at a dif salon than the 3rd. Not sure what I will do with it....

Okay. If you're stupid enough to buy any wedding dress an entire YEAR before your wedding, then you deserve what you get. But if you are actually dumb enough to buy THREE WEDDING DRESSES simply because two of them don't fit with the "type of a wedding" you're having, then I really don't know what to tell you, except that you ought to inform your fiancé of these actions, because he has a right to know so that he can reconsider marrying you.

JEEZ.

2. I purchased a lovely guestbook from Etsy! Man, I am totally addicted to that website. After months of having people at Vassar and my mother tell me about how great it is, I've finally gotten on the Etsy train, and wow, it's amazing stuff.

It's Ovaaaaaar!

I didn't expect it to be the best day of my life so far. BUT IT WAS.

I'll be posting pictures and some play-by-plays in the next few days. For now, though: I am Mrs. Philosophy Walker, wife of Adam McCluskey. A married woman.

AWESOME.

One Month

As of yesterday, Adam and I have been married for one month!

We have TWO hot dates in the works for these next few weeks. First off, we believe we may be able to go see Oliver Stone's W. next week. I babysat for a friend's kids last Saturday and earned twenty bucks, and if we put that together with my awesome Super Savers coupon, we can totally go out on a hot, hot date to the Austintown Movies 8! We haven't been out to do something fun in awhile, so it'll be a welcome treat.

Adam is down with W., but he won't go see Religulous with me because he dislikes Bill Maher. I had forgotten that Bill Maher was actually supposed to be a comedian and not just a political figure, and Adam, as a comedy connoisseur, finds him annoying. So I'm going to have to threaten my parents into going or something. Or maybe I can get Kerry and Erin to come...

And then on November 1st, Adam's taking me to one of my favorite places ever: the YSU planetarium. How can you not love that place? Just read the description of what we're going to see:

Black Holes: The Other Side of Infinity
Narrated by Academy-Award nominated actor Liam Neeson, Black Holes: The Other Side of Infinity brings the current science of black holes to the dome screen. Supported by grants from NASA's high-energy GLAST telescope project and the National Science Foundation, this cutting-edge production features high-resolution, animated visualizations of cosmic phenomena, working with data generated by computer simulations. We'll bring you striking, immersive animations of the formation of the early universe, star birth and death, the collision of giant galaxies, and a simulated flight to a super massive black hole lurking at the center of our own Milky Way Galaxy. Thomas Lucas Productions in collaboration with Denver Museum of Nature & Science, NOVA, and the National Center for Supercomputing Applications.

Star death! Giant galaxies! Massive black holes! Liam Neeson! *jumps up and down and wiggles with glee* And it's FREE, betches! That's right: I get to watch simulated diagrams of an Einstein-Rosen bridge FREE OF CHARGE. I love educational institutions and the wonderful things I can find at them. (I also love theoretical physics, which I bet you didn't know before. If I'd been smarter, and if I wouldn't have sucked at math so much, I'd have studied something science-ish in college!)

Things are going well. We're having a good time (although I would be happier if I had a real job— we could use some financial security) and we're working really well as a married couple. Everything's coming up roses, y'all!

Random Ramblings From a Fevered Brain

So I'm sick with the flu today, and I have nothing better to do (while I lie on the couch and vomit) but look up new recipes and think about Christmas stuff. Wow, pathetic, eh?

...

On the recipe front, I'm trying to come up with something good for dinner. I'm nauseous to the extreme right now, so it can't be anything too thick or hearty; on the other hand, it's snowing and Adam will have been at work in the unheated mill for twelve hours today, so I'd like it to be something fairly pleasant and enjoyable to eat.

Hrm...perhaps I can make my favorite hummus? With a side of homemade tabouli, it makes a meal that can be filling, yet easy on the stomach. Problem: I'd have to take a jaunt down to Marc's to pick up some pita, and I really don't feel like walking for forty minutes in freezing weather while my body revolts against itself.

Or maybe I could make chicken soup? I feel like I could probably improvise something with chicken broth, boneless chicken, carrots, celery, potatoes, and assorted herbs and spices. I don't want to mess it up by experimenting, but I can't find a recipe I like. Maybe if I try making some and it comes out well, I can write down what I used and put the recipe here!

...

Now, as to the Christmas considerations: I'm thinking I might like to send some real holiday cards of my own this year! However, I can't quite seem to find any that I like— most of the pretty ones say "Merry Christmas," but I want "Happy Holidays" ones, because that's what I mean. Why just send tidings of cheer for one holiday when what I actually want to say is, "Have a great Christmas/Hanukkah/whatever, and also a great New Year, and if you're an American friend of mine, then I also hope you had a great Thanksgiving"? I think "Happy Holidays" encapsulates my wishes pretty well, but all the cards I've seen that express that sentiment are UGLY. I don't want a huge garish cartoon reindeer, people— I want something pretty and delicate and preferably sparkly, and maybe something just a little adorable.

Sigh.

Christmas is my favorite holiday of them all, and it's so exciting to get to spend our first Christmas together as a married couple! We're planning to get a little Charlie Brown Christmas tree and some lights, decorations, etc. We're also thinking we might get stockings and write our names on them, and I'm ordering a door wreath from my mom's class (they sell them every year to raise money for school trips).

Of course, the holidays also mean trying to send time with each of our families, and that can be a little difficult, especially considering how many family members Adam has. Thanksgiving usually means that we go over to my parents' house in the late morning, eat dinner there around 3 or 4, then leave to eat another dinner at Adam's grandmother's house and spend the evening there. Christmas usually means spending Christmas morning with my family, and the late afternoon/evening with Adam's.

I wish we could have everyone in one location for the holidays, but Adam has his parents, his two sisters, his grandparents, his aunt and uncle, and his seven cousins. If you add in my parents and my two sisters, that would mean we'd have to get a total of 21 people together for dinner— which is impossible in our little one-bedroom apartment!

Argh. We'll see how it goes.

A Remarkable Piece About Love

Please read this moving essay by Anna Quindlen, entitled The Loving Decision. It discusses the landmark Supreme Court case Loving v. Virginia in the context of gay marriage.

In the midst of all this misery over here, it's so nice to know that some people out there are working to spread kindness and love, and that the inevitable breaking down of boundaries can never be halted by hatred or division.

Newlyweds In Action

Check out our wedding announcement in the local paper!

Too bad you can't see the picture that was printed along with it, because according to Adam, I look "funky" in this picture. And not in a good way.

And this is creepy: a local bank actually cut out the article and sent it to us, with a card. We have never been to this bank, nor do we know anyone who works there. Ack. I mean, I know they're trying to be nice, and I appreciate that. But it's still a little weird. Plus...dude, if I'm married, I already have a bank account.

Married...Without Children

So I was researching the Duggar family today— mostly because they freak me out and I firmly believe that those Quiverfull folks are theologically unsound and mentally unstable, but also because, well, they do have some great money-saving tips— and I ran across an organization called No Kidding! [exclamation mark included].

It's apparently an organization of people who are either not having kids yet, or who are unable to have kids, or who just don't ever want kids for one reason of another. They hang out and do stuff and talk about things and don't have to deal with people constantly asking, "So when are you two going to spawn?"

And I kinda want to join. Okay, so yeah, their website looks like 1996 threw up all over it, but still, it's an intriguing concept for a social group. I mean, Adam and I are going to be childless for another ten years, so if I'm sick of being asked about my womb NOW, imagine how much worse it will get in a few more years, when more of my friends are married/preggers/thinking about getting preggers.

Plus, it's hard to find these types of people to talk to. All the people on my Babies Not On The Brain board at The Nest have quite suddenly decided to become pregnant and create little tracking devices in their message board signatures that tell the world when they're due/ how far along they are/ when they'll be ovulating next. I am not making this up.

Now, as I've said before, I'm not trying to hate on people who DO have kids, as long as they're responsible, mature parents and they didn't just pop those kiddos out so they could have something cute to dress up in little bonnets every day. I'm just saying that I want to schedule my child (Adam and I both only want one, as we like the idea of a small family) in a pretty specific place in my life, and if modern birth control allows me to do that, why not give it a shot?

Wikipedia has a great article on Childfree; these are the most interesting statistics from that page:

• The number of these women who are without children is unknown, but the National Center of Health Statistics confirms that the percentage of American women of childbearing age who define themselves as childfree (or voluntarily childless) rose sharply in the 1990s - from 2.4 percent in 1982 to 4.3 percent in 1990 to 6.6 percent in 1995.
• Overall, researchers have observed childfree couples to be more educated, more likely to be employed in professional and management occupations, more likely for both spouses to earn relatively high incomes, to live in urban areas, to be less religious, to subscribe to less traditional gender roles, and to be less conventional.
• David Foot of the University of Toronto concluded that the female's education is the most important determinant of the likelihood of her reproducing. The higher the education, the less likely for her to bear children.

I'm not all that surprised about the religion part, but I must say, they can't be counting all that many Episcopalians in there. I know plenty of people at my church who don't have the urge to procreate. The more I see of non-denominational/ evangelical Christianity, the more I think there must be some terrible mistake and we're actually reading two completely different Bibles.

So anyways— babies. I'm going to make a poll about this, I think...keep an eye out for it.

What Is A Newlywed?

What exactly is the definition of a "newlywed"?

Whenever people discover I'm married, they first look shocked that someone so young would be, like, allowed to get married. They never ask my age and discover that I'm 23; after all, that would make too much sense, and would too neatly explain everything. Instead, they ask, "How long have you been married?" And when I tell them we were married in September, they suddenly smug up and say, "Oh, well. You're still newlyweds."

I dunno...I always assumed that a newlywed was someone who had been married within the past month— like, someone who could passably still be on his/her honeymoon, right?

Adam and I have been married for five months. We know pretty much everything about one another. There are no secrets here. We've had big fights and little fights, good times and great times. I don't think of us as newlyweds anymore.

What is your definition of a newlywed?

Lessons From My Mother

The more I browse The Nest, and the more I fill out those idiotic post-wedding surveys that The Knot sends my way (with, of course, the promise of an entry into some sweepstakes or other), the more I am convinced that I am absolutely nothing like most of the women who enter into matrimony in the course of a year.

For one thing, I must be waaaaay poorer than most. Usually the surveys I take for other purposes have a "$15,000-$24,000" income bracket and a "$15,000 and below" bracket, and I check the former one (which I suppose is only accurate if you pretend like Adam still has a job...) so that I don't feel so wretched. But these bridal surveys group everyone below $35,000 together, which is funny, since my parents raised three children on $35,000/year, so it's not like it's poverty level or something.

For another, I'm clearly young for a bride. Everyone under 24 seems to be the same in the eyes of The Knot's surveys.

And of course, I'm clearly not as preoccupied with my face. Mostly I spent my last survey merrily checking "Not Applicable" next to a host of beauty treatments and products, including makeup, tanning, manicures, pedicures, deep tissue massages, hair removal, teeth whitening, cosmetic surgery, breast augmentation, and Botox.

Really, girls— if the thought of your wedding day makes you shell out the dough for the deep tissue massage, you probably shouldn't be getting married to the guy.

It's more than that, though— I don't remotely resemble any of the women on The Nest, which is part of the reason I've stopped frequenting their deliciously irritating message boards. All of these women are in their early thirties, and seem completely possessed by thoughts of babies, weight loss, mortgages, neighbors, and hosting parties. This is a phenomenon completely unfamiliar to myself; not only have I never experienced the all-consuming dilemma over whether or not my neighbor is having an affair with her mailman, but I'm pretty sure my parents never cared about this crap, either.

My mom had babies— three of them, to be exact— but while she stayed home to raise us and spent most of her time with us, I always felt as though we never consumed her, at least not in a negative way. She always had friends, and interests, and she always liked to read new books or find out what was going on in the world or take us on some new adventure.

When I was growing up, my mother was, on the outside, the perfect picture of a suburban woman: pretty and healthy and fit even after 3 children (in fact, now, at 54, she looks about 35), she stayed home after giving birth, she enjoyed cooking and baking and sewing, and she moved all the way from her beloved Florida just so my dad could get a job in bitterly cold Pennsylvania. And yet, my mother has always been the strongest, smartest, most capable, and most interesting person I've ever met (and believe me, I've met a lot of people for a 23-year-old). She may have enjoyed domestic pursuits and shunned a lucrative career, but she wasn't like the other mothers on the block— she didn't gossip, she didn't fuss with makeup, she didn't whine constantly about her kids or her housework. She always maintained who she was— she never lost herself to simply being somebody's wife or somebody's mother.

She was so good with balance, you see. She was able to be my friend without losing her motherly authority over me; I desperately wanted to please her, to do things that would make her happy, but only out of love, and never out of any fear that they might be angry or that she might punish me. She was able to run a household simply by defying the stereotypes of a housewife— she brought a zest and a life to chores that kept them from seeming like drudgery, at least to her oldest daughter.

I want to be like my mother in nearly every way. I know the particulars can't be the same: we're of different temperaments, and I wouldn't be happy without working out in the world— I wouldn't be happy with a parcel of kids to feed and clothe and bathe and get to school. But I do try to model myself on my mother's values: the importance of family, the importance of thrift, the importance of moderation, the importance of good sense and reflection and deep thought.

And when I think of how my mother began her marriage, how she was before I even knew her, I feel better. She, too, would have checked that "$15,000 or below" box. She, too, would have written in "23" in the age box. She, too, would have checked "Not Applicable" beside face creams and perfumes and lipsticks. She would have been as young and poor and unexceptional as I am now, and nothing would have hinted at the amazing person I'd come to know over these awesome 23 years.

And that makes me happy. Because if I'm on the same path my mother once traveled, then it can't be a bad place to be.

Six Word Valentines

As per the PNN contest, here is a small collection of six word Valentines to my husband:

You're my favorite person ever.

Without you, I'm not me.

I'm so glad we're married.

Our family: you, me, cats.

I love you. Now. Always.

What They Don't Tell You About Marriage

I actually really enjoyed this article from Yahoo, entitled "Seven Things No One Tells You About Marriage." It has some really good advice about marriage, and it doesn't ever seem to stumble into the realm of the sappy.

My favorite part of the article is point 2, where the author explains that marriage really is hard work, but not in the way most people imagine. A lot of engaged couples assume that the "work" people talk about in a long-term live-in relationship has to do with adjusting to the other person's annoying habits, like forgetting to run the dishwasher or leaving wet towels on the floor. And to an extent that happens, but that's not really the hardest part of being married. The tough part is learning who you both are deep down and adapting as you each move through different stages and experience major changes in your lives.

It's annoying when Adam forgets to put the toilet seat down, but that doesn't really bother me on a day-to-day basis. The real challenge is dealing with our different reactions to things: sometimes he'll make a joke about something I do or say, knowing that he would find it funny if I made the same joke about him, but I end up feeling hurt instead of laughing. Sometimes, because of my abnormally strong emotional reactions, I'll respond violently to a situation that Adam doesn't think is that big a deal, and he'll be upset and disturbed by my sudden tears/screaming fits/whoops of joy. We already know that we love the other person, warts and all; if I had to choose a certain number of flaws for my husband to possess, I'd choose the same flaws Adam has, no question. But because we're different people, sometimes things get lost in translation, and we have to stop and think very hard about what the other person must be feeling. And that's difficult, no matter how much you love someone, because it's hard to see things from an external perspective (although it's interesting to do once you get the hang of it!).

Unlike most relationship articles, this piece isn't pure drivel, and I think it could actually be fairly helpful to people looking to begin a live-in or serious relationship of any type.

Here Comes The Bride...Again

Ooooh! It's too good a story to resist:

Can the world's most married woman maybe get together with the Octomom? They could invite George Bush and have a Bad Decision Makers convention!

I wonder— at what point did she feel a little silly taking vows that she'd already broken several times over? Like, do you think it was at wedding #8? Or maybe wedding #15?

"But I would get married again," she said, "because, you know, it gets lonely."

Public Displays of Affection

I just read this note on Makes Me Think:

“Today, when I looked around a busy restaurant at people eating their lunch, the only people I saw smiling were children.”

I used to think that my tendency to hug people spontaneously, or to entwine my arm with another person’s while walking, or to burst into tears at the sight of a particularly adorable Pixar film, meant that I felt things more intensely than other people. But over the past few years, I’ve come to the realization that I simply SHOW more emotion than everyone else; while other people might outgrow impulsive displays of emotion, I never did, and probably never will.

Last night, at Adam’s matriculation ceremony, I came running into the church, breathless and harried. I’d left work early to get back on time, but I’d still had to run most of the way home, and I barely arrived in time. As I walked up the aisle, I heard Adam’s wolf whistle— the way he often greets me, his reminder that he thinks I’m the most beautiful girl in the world, that I'm movie-star radiant in his eyes. We smiled brightly at one another, and I waved excitedly at him before moving to my seat in the “family and friends” section. After the ceremony was over, I rushed up to give him a big kiss, wrapping my arms around him and leaning against his tall frame. Then he put his arm around me and we walked out.

Later, at the after party on the roof of the biggest apartment building, I was speaking to some other juniors, who asked me, “So, how’d it feel to be greeted with a whistle as you walked into church?”

“Oh, that?” I replied, “I’m used to it.”

“Ooooh, I see,” someone called out laughingly. “You’re just so used to getting catcalls, huh?”

“No, no,” I giggled, shaking my head. “I’m just used to having Adam do that. We’re very affectionate with one another.”

Over the course of the evening, both Adam and I got multiple questions and comments about our PDA, and it dawned upon me that I rarely see other couples holding hands like we do, or kissing openly, or talking animatedly with one another. And while some people might think that makes us immature, or silly, or embarrassing, I just think it makes us enthusiastic.

And really, isn’t love one of the best grounds for enthusiasm? How can you NOT get fired up about being passionately in love?

One Year

Today is our first wedding anniversary!

The day went beautifully— we got up, had coffee and waffles, went to church, and then ate MORE food, since several people at church had urged us to try out a brunch place down the street. Then we went to Central Park, where I got my anniversary gift from Adam— an hour-long ride in a rowboat through the park! And then we came home and snuggled, and Adam made blackened Mahi Mahi, and I ate too many Oreos, and it was just a wonderful day.

What's funny is that, at church today, the Old Testament reading was, like, incredibly appropriate. I mean, it was as though it had been tailor made just for me:

A capable wife who can find?
   She is far more precious than jewels.
The heart of her husband trusts in her,
   and he will have no lack of gain.
She does him good, and not harm,
   all the days of her life.
She seeks wool and flax,
   and works with willing hands.
She is like the ships of the merchant,
   she brings her food from far away.
She rises while it is still night
   and provides food for her household
   and tasks for her servant-girls.
She considers a field and buys it;
   with the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard.
She girds herself with strength,
   and makes her arms strong.
She perceives that her merchandise is profitable.
   Her lamp does not go out at night.
She puts her hands to the distaff,
   and her hands hold the spindle.
She opens her hand to the poor,
   and reaches out her hands to the needy.
She is not afraid for her household when it snows,
   for all her household are clothed in crimson.
She makes herself coverings;
   her clothing is fine linen and purple.
Her husband is known in the city gates,
   taking his seat among the elders of the land.
She makes linen garments and sells them;
   she supplies the merchant with sashes.
Strength and dignity are her clothing,
   and she laughs at the time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom,
   and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
She looks well to the ways of her household,
   and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and call her happy;
   her husband too, and he praises her:
‘Many women have done excellently,
   but you surpass them all.’
Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
   but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
Give her a share in the fruit of her hands,
   and let her works praise her in the city gates.^{111213141516171819202122232425262728293031}

(Proverbs 31: 10-31)

The woman in this passage reminds me of what I'd like to be: smart, hardworking, able to take care of everyone I love single-handedly, using only my brains and my hands and my cunning. And the phrase "give her a share in the fruit of her hands" feels so...feminist, doesn't it? It's not often that you come across images of strong, empowered women in the Bible, but here's a woman who reaps the benefits of her own enterprising spirit, who is praised, not for being beautiful or submissive, but for being clever and independent.

As I look back upon our first year of marriage, what strikes me initially is this: the biggest lesson I've learned in these past twelve months has been that marriage has no formula. People like to pretend as though things happen inevitably, as though there's some pattern that all couples follow without choice, because that's just what married couples do. But here's the truth: being married doesn't mean that you both magically turn into perfectly mature, well-adjusted adults with Pottery Barn furniture and 401(k)s. In fact, having been married for exactly 365 days, I can dutifully report that my furniture is still old and ratty and mismatched and secondhand, and I don't even know what a 401(k) IS, let alone have one. Being married also doesn't mean your relationship is either instantly perfect or instantly doomed; being married is actually a series of very comfortable days, occasionally punctuated by a moment that is either very blissful or very painful.

I've come to the conclusion that there are no perfect marriages. When I was little, I looked around and saw that my friends' parents were all either divorced or eager to yell at one another, and, as I listened to stories of mommies throwing things or daddies storming out of the house and not returning for days, I figured that my parents were the only people who had the perfect marriage. And that was scary— because what if, when I grew up and met someone I loved and wanted to marry, I wasn't special, like my parents, but just ordinary, like everyone else's parents? If my parents had the only happy marriage in the whole world, where did that leave me, when I got married myself?

Since then, I've learned that my parents' marriage ISN'T perfect. As my mom explained once, it's not that they don't get angry with one another— it's that they're both very quiet, modest, restrained people, so that instead of yelling at one another like other couples do, they just give one another steely glares and avoid each other for a few days. Sometimes my mom does things that annoy my dad (disappearing in the middle of the store, or rushing him when he's trying to think up a solution to a problem, or criticizing his attempts at handyman construction around the house) and sometimes my dad does things that annoy my mom (working really late, or forgetting to do things that he promised to do, or not telling her about a meeting or dinner that he must attend until right before he's about to leave).

But I think that it's the imperfections that make it all worthwhile, don't you? I mean, my major answer to the infamous "why does God allow evil in the world?" question is always simple: without evil, there is no good. Without pain, there's no relief. Without suffering, you can't have joy. If we don't know what "bad" feels like, how can we know when things are good?

Because Adam and I occasionally fight, because we're occasionally mad at each other— that's how we know this is working. Because, see, even when I'm angry, even when I'm furious, even when I'm muttering mean stuff under my breath as I storm away— I still love him. No matter how much or how little I like him at any particular moment, I always love him. Always. Every second.

Like the woman in Proverbs, I laugh at the time to come.

The Knot...Of Fate

Okay, guys, here's the coincidence of the month:

When I was planning my wedding, I spent a lot of time making fun of The Knot, the internet's premier gathering place for self-absorbed idiots who have somehow tricked unsuspecting partners into marrying them. Since then, I've also spent some time mocking The Knot's sister sites, The Nest (for already married self-absorbed idiots) and The Bump (for self-absorbed idiots who feel as though they ought to spread their self-absorbed idiot genes around by reproducing), sometimes to the point where I forget that I'm the self-absorbed idiot who actually surfs these sites in order to mock them on my blog.

Anyways, I've dedicated a lot of time to making fun of these sites, and my dear readers have, for the most part, gamely encouraged me in my mockery.

So on my first day of work, I get to the office building, and I enter the lobby, and I press the elevator button, and the elevator takes FOREVER to get there. I try to take the stairs, but the stairs are locked, so I have to wait for the elevator. So to pass the time, I start looking at the board on the wall, which lists the companies and firms that occupy the building by floor. Second floor, International Culinary Institute. Fourth floor, Women Making Movies. Fifth floor, a bunch of law offices.

And the sixth floor? "The Knot" is written in large plastic letters, and "The Nest" and "The Bump" are written in smaller white letters below.

That's right, folks. I've spent the last year or so making fun of these people, and now I get to stand next to them awkwardly in the elevator in the morning.

The moral of this story is: karma is a bitch.

No Right Number: Reflections On Family Size and Choice

I very much enjoyed this cartoon, mostly because it's true. Why is it that we trust women— sometimes even teenaged girls— to take on the exalted and serious job of parenting, but we can't trust people in their 20s to know that they wouldn't ever be good at that job?

I mean, my aunt said she never wanted kids, and guess what? She's in her fifties and she DOESN'T HAVE KIDS. She's happily married and loves her job and has a FABULOUS house (mostly because, without the children, she and her husband get to spend their hard-earned cash on cool stuff instead of diapers and college tuition) and she's perfectly content. I look at her, and then I look at a certain high school acquaintance on Facebook (who only ever talks about her baby, and who never seems to sleep, eat real food, have time with her husband, or enjoy any non-baby aspect of her life whatsoever) and I wonder: how and why did we decide that everyone MUST have a baby?

Now, I'm not anti-baby, by any means. As most of you know, I'm looking forward to having a baby in my thirties— I know that, for me, it'll be a rewarding experience, although I really really really want to keep it down to one. (For all those who want to tell me, yet again, that they planned on having just one and then had more and therefore I will do the same thing: uh, I'm not you, and I'm a pretty determined person, and I usually don't have any trouble making my life the way I want it to be [within reason, at least], so I wouldn't worry, because if I say I just want one, then I JUST. WANT. ONE.)

But I know plenty of people who don't want kids EVER, and I don't quite understand why there's such a stigma attached to such a choice. In fact, I think it's pretty brave and mature of them to admit that, to tell you the truth. These folks have figured out that they wouldn't make very good parents, or that they don't WANT to be parents (and I'm pretty sure that an unwilling parent isn't exactly the most nurturing type of parent), and they're at peace with that in themselves. So when did we decide that babies were everyone's business?

Perhaps society is so obsessed with babies, not only because it's part of our biological drive, but also because they make such heartwarming stories. Who doesn't like reading about babies? I mean, one of my favorite pieces on PNN this month was Jessica Lee's post, "The Pregnant Pause," about her best friend coming to visit and then finding out she (the best friend, that is) is pregnant. Jessica's writing is superb, and the whole arc of the story— taking a pregnancy test just to be sure that a night of drinking would be okay, then discovering the test was positive, then having such joy, such expectation, such sisterly affection bring them together to look towards the future— just makes you feel warm all over. Everyone likes to hear good news, but when that news involves something momentous in the lives of those we hold dear— "We're engaged!" or "We bought a house!" or "I got into college!" or, yes, "I'm pregnant!"— it's especially beautiful. Even reading about strangers' pregnancies can make people happy, as we can see from all the tabloid news over celebrity babies and pregnancies.

The problem is when we become so interested to having those happy feelings that we begin to apply our expectations and experiences universally. We like babies, we like knowing that other people are having babies, so we assume that babies are always a good thing to have, even when common sense tells us otherwise.

I think I've said this before, but I believe the whole Octomom debacle tells us some serious things about who we are as a society. I've written before about the disturbing things Octomom reveals about the ways in which we think about embryos and unborn babies, but today, I want to talk about what I think she tells us about babymania and baby pressure. Because, y'know, we didn't ALWAYS hate Octomom. In the beginning, we LIKED her. When we thought she was some random chick who wanted to have all these babies, a lot of people liked her— some even rooted for her. And what was it that made us turn sour against her?

Money.

We hated Octomom because she was poor, not because she had fourteen children. We hated her because she was taking taxpayers' money, not because she was contributing to overpopulation. It was her economic class that disturbed us, not her original intentions, and even I was certainly not above criticizing her decision on the basis of financial instability.

I was reading about "baby addiction" today, and I happened to come across this small blurb at Jezebel. The blurb in and of itself isn't that interesting, but the comments reveal a lot, to my mind. Over and over, women excoriate Octomom for being unable to afford all her children— yet they insist that Angelina Jolie is different, because she has MONEY. The comments were disturbing in that they blithely assumed that a rich mom was not only better able to provide food and clothes for her kids, but that a rich mom could pay someone ELSE to watch the babies:

"Angelina Jolie is in a financial position to provide a good home to the kids. Even when she's busy working, she can afford to have someone there to play with them, and she also has Brad."

Oh, okay— we're yelling at unemployed Octomom for being unable to have enough time with all her children, but Angelina Jolie, who is clearly a busy woman and spends a lot of her time on sets, doing TV interviews, doing charity work, etc., can pay someone to watch her children, so that's somehow fine. Apparently, being raised by a nanny is all right, but being raised by a poor mom who can't afford a nanny? BLASPHEMY.

Now, I'm not justifying Octomom's behavior, and I'm certainly not saying that Angelina Jolie is a bad person— for one thing, she adopted a lot of those kids, and I think that's waaaaay more responsible. I think adopting kids and giving them a home is truly noble. But I do just want to point out how much of our baby obsession is class-driven: we scream about the poor black woman who has five kids on welfare, but we get misty-eyed over the crazy cult of the 18-and-counting Duggars. Think about it: are there a whole lot of TLC shows devoted to black parents who have large families? Or Latino parents? Apparently, overpopulation is only awesome when it's white middle-class people who are doing it.

In comparing Angelina Jolie to Octomom, I wish we would focus more on the adoption factor (after all, she's not actually giving birth to all these kids— I think she's the biological mom of three of them, but the rest were adopted, and that's great of her to give them a home) and less on the fact that one is rich and one is poor. Sure, Octomom is going to have a lot more trouble paying for food and clothes and educational stuff for her kids, but I think both moms could potentially struggle to find time to be with each of their kids individually, and that doesn't have a thing to do with social class.

Which leads me back to my original question: why are we, as a society, so happy to pressure people into having babies, and then so disgusted when people buckle under that pressure too willingly? What is it with this double standard: women who have no babies are shriveled up, pathetic harpies, and women who have lots of babies are trashy or desperate or mentally ill?

One commenter on the Jezebel article hit the nail on the head here:

"Now that Tabloids have mastered the 'Too Skinny to live!/SOMEONE needs to lose weight!' Catch 22, they're finally moving on scientifically establish just HOW MUCH women should want babies. Enough to make them worthwhile, but not enough to look desperate, of course."

She's right, I think. According to popular culture, no babies is criminal, one baby is selfish, two babies is nice, three babies is better, eight babies lands you a cable show, and twelve babies is sick. Not only should women apparently not have the choice to skip childbearing, but they should ALSO not have the choice to give birth to seven children if they feel that need. Either way, the uterus is treated as public property, and should be used only to fulfill everyone else's ideals about perfect families. Either way, women aren't given the choice.

One of the many reasons why I'm such a big proponant of abortion rights is because I think your body is such a personal topic that its uses and limitations and desires can and should be exclusively the domain of each woman individually. The fact that I believe that abortion is acceptable in most cases does not give me the right to insist that people who get pregnant accidentally, some of whom I think would make bad mothers, should have abortions, just as people who think abortion is immoral don't get to force me to carry a child I don't want. I personally dislike the idea of giving birth to large numbers of children, mostly because I think it's gross, but also because I think it's socially and environmentally irresponsible. But that's MY BELIEF, and the only way I can express that is through controlling my own body, through using my body to not procreate, or to give birth once and then never again. I can't use anyone else's body to do that; I can't tell anyone else how many children to have. And I shouldn't be able to do that, because, well, what if they could use my body to enact what they see as its true purpose? What if some insane Duggar-esque fundamentalists got to choose what I did with my womb? Then I'd have thirteen kids, all of whom would be unwanted at this point, and then none of us would be happy— not the kids, and not myself, either.

When society tells women how to dress, what to eat, what the shape of their thighs should look like, how many kids they should have— this all signals that we don't believe women are capable of deciding these things themselves. Nadia Suleman is a sad woman, and she's not to be exalted for give birth to kids she can't manage; but at the same time, deciding on a set number of children that women should be allowed to have could raise some serious questions. If you can prevent a woman from having a baby she wants, can you also force a woman to have a baby she doesn't want? I don't even want to contemplate that possibility.

If only we could manage to think about these things wisely. If only we could take a 24-year-old at her word when she says she wants to look into some, uh, more permanent birth control. If only we could feel sorrow and not anger when we see a woman who has bitten off more than she can chew in terms of family obligations. If only we could assume that couples who have no children are either happy that way or having their own very private, very personal, very painful experiences with attempted pregnancies, and just keep our mouths shut about when and why future babymaking could occur, or not occur. If only the way a woman feels about her womb and her progeny were actually personal matters, instead of something that strangers should discuss endlessly on message boards. Wouldn't that be nice?

And I'm as guilty of it as everyone else. When I'm stuck in line at the grocery store behind a clueless young mom whose six kids are knocking over shelves, removing the caps on chapstick tubes, gnawing on unpurchased candy bars, and spilling their sippy cups of juice down my pant leg, I get pissed. I get judgmental. I think, "Who let this chick have these children?" But really, that's not an appropriate question, because no one should have "let" her do anything— it should be her choice. She should be a better parent, of course, and she should be more responsible for her children. But I can't tell her not to have kids, because I wouldn't want her to tell ME that I SHOULD have kids.

Instead of railing at women who have seemingly unmanageable numbers of kids, let's focus on giving them the tools they need to know when and where and how to have a baby: parenting classes, accessible birth control, economic and social choices, and a real perspective on the financial and environmental impact of bringing children into the world. Education should be our goal, not eliminating choice entirely.

Because guess what? I love my no-babies-yet choice, and I wouldn’t want anyone to take that choice away from me. Ever.

The Name Game

When I got married, the last name deal wasn't even an issue. I kept my last name, and Adam didn't care, because, well, it's a pretty stupid thing to care about. In fact, most of the women in my family keep their last names when they marry— it's cheaper, for one thing, and for another, it's actually LESS complicated, contrary to popular belief. Instead of filling out a new Social Security form, and calling the DMV, and submitting all the state paperwork, and changing my Facebook page, and sending in post office forms, I just did...nothing. Easy peasy!

But apparently, some people have strong feelings about this issue, as one can see in this article from Elle. The article itself is pretty mild— the author explains why she kept her last name and then discusses a small study that found that 70% of Americans believe a woman should change her last name when she marries— but the comments are the disturbing part.

Here's a sampling of the horrible stuff that was written at the bottom of the page:

--"fiancé once told me late into our relationship that she was keeping her maiden name. She wanted to honor her parents for raising her. It turned out not to be a problem because I broke up with her over that. I felt she was dishonoring me. A real man doesn't capitulate."

--"Not taking his name is an insult to him."

--"Marriage is a traditional bond between men and women, yet it never ceases to amaze me how many women seem to think that changing the tradition demonstrates feminism or empowerment, vice corrupting the tradition...What we do publicly demonstrates our conformity and compliance for the good of the whole, what we do privately away from the public domain is our independence, and to confuse the two is demonstrated adolescence. You got married to demonstrate your bond with another human being, which is togetherness, why spoil with your attempt to assert your independence? It shows poor self esteem, whether actual or perceived." [The ironic note here is that this comment was signed "The Thinker."]

--"Why is this even an issue? Here is a message to all you liberal, ultra-feminist, man-hating women: SHUT THE F*** UP! Stop bitching and moaning over everything! Just shut the f*** up and get in the kitchen! It's like, all of you women out there are obviously BORED out of your pathetic minds and sit there with your K.D Lang poster on the wall and are just thinking of things to bitch about! Shut up! And to the pathetic writer of the article, your husband is not a real man and I would place money that you two will be divorced in less than five years. No man will put up with that and certainly not forfeit their name to take their wife's. All you "men" out there that have or are doing it, GROW A PAIR AND USE THEM. All that bullsh** about "my identity" and marrying "later in my life and knowing who I am" are just excuses for: I'm a liberal bitch who hates men but am too afraid of coming out of the closet. You women are what is wrong with America today. You are the woman that cause men out there to laugh at us. Good job! You made an ass out of yourself again!"

--I think it's ashame that young people don't keep traditions going. They have no respect anymore. Women want to be to much like men now a days. Why bother to get married, just live with each other. You women leave nothing for men anymore. By the way, I am a women.

--"I'm taking his name. I think you should either take your husband's name or hyphenate. You're joining two lives and should act as such. By keeping your own name, its like denying you are married. Its a lie. I'll be proud when I can be called, legally and forever, Mrs. Heskett."

That's right— there are at least six people currently alive today who are complete and utter idiots. (Though I'm convinced that this last commenter is actually a fifteen-year-old girl. "Julie and Davey Heskett 4 Eva!!!!111")

The vitriol here is interesting, especially as some of it comes from other women. What exactly is so threatening about a woman who keeps her name? And what is it about that choice that makes people doubt her feelings for her husband?

What is perhaps most perturbing about the comments is that so many of them claim that a woman who keeps her name doesn't really love her husband, or at least isn't really committed to him. This is most boldly phrased by the commenter who spoke directly to the author of the piece, saying, "I would place money that you two will be divorced in less than five years." That makes me laugh, obviously, but it also makes me wonder how large her circle of acquaintances can be. It can't be all that wide-ranging if she doesn't know any happily married couples with different last names. I, on the other hand, know many happily married couples— some of whom have the same name, and some of whom have different names, and some of whom have hyphenated names. (In fact, the only people I've ever known to get divorced were people who both had the man's last name, although I would certainly never draw conclusions about that, mostly because I'm far to young to know how my friends' marriages will turn out in the long run.)

Hilariously enough, I think the comments really illustrate exactly what the article is talking about: people view the name change as a tradition that is essential to a happy marriage, even though such a small thing can't possible matter in the grand scheme of things. And in my opinion, people are afraid to buck the tradition precisely because they DON'T understand what goes into a successful marriage; when you're desperate to keep the institute of marriage from falling apart but you can't even understand what the root of the current divorce statistics could possibly be, you have no choice but to fall back on superstition. People are scared of divorce, but they also don't understand why it happens, or why good marriages work out. Fascinating, considering how poorly the "glue" of name-changing seems to work; you'd think that people would eventually figure out that the name doesn't matter as much as the attitude.

The sad part of all this is that it's just pointless. Whether or not you change your name will have no impact on the happiness of your marriage; what's more important is whether you and your fiancé are on the same page about it. If you're both happy with you changing your name, that's great. If you're both fine with you keeping your name, awesome. If one you wants to keep his/her last name, and the other one feels it would be "disrespectful" or "unfair," then you might be working on different levels and with different value systems, in which case you'd better figure out whether or not you can work through that.

My husband really doesn't give two shits about it, to tell you the truth. Whether or not my last name matches his has nothing to do with his manhood, and if you think it does, then Adam doesn't really want to know you, thanks very much. See, things like this are great litmus tests for potential acquaintances: if you care very much that I kept my last name, then Adam and I are not interested in inviting you over for our Super Bowl party or having drinks with you at a bar, because you are a complete twit. And really, we don't care if you have the same last name as your spouse, either. I've met a lot of couples here at the seminary so far, and of the couples who are married (and many can't be married because they're gay and this country's marriage laws suck), some have different names and some have the same name. And I don't really notice at all, because, uh, why would I care about that crap? How is it any of my business, or any of my concern?

I actually kept my last name because of tradition— no one in my family has changed their last name for quite awhile. But really, it doesn't matter, because something like that has no bearing on your relationship with your spouse. NO BEARING. And if you think it does, then you're already in trouble, because marriage is about communication and trust and dedication and mutual respect, not about names or who is "dominant" or even (gasp!) tradition.

Sometimes I think: who are these people, and who allowed them access to the internet?

A Strange Perspective On Marriage

I was surprised to find a copy of Christianity Today sitting in the office of our Episcopal Church today. I like Christian publications as much as the next seminarian's wife, but I was under the impression that Christianity Today was of a more, um, evangelical persuasion than my church. (Oh, I don't know why...maybe because it says "A magazine of evangelical conviction" on the cover.)

As I gazed uncertainly upon the magazine, the cover story caught my eye: "The Case For Early Marriage." "Ah," I thought, "This should be interesting and relevant to me. After all, I myself married early, and have often found myself defending the decision to confused friends and other twenty-somethings. Perhaps this story will be wise and uplifting."

Well...no.

This article pretty much encompasses everything that is wrong with the way many Christians view marriage and sexuality today. The piece begins deceptively well, as the author mocks the modern Christian obsession with abstinence, and explains the unreasonable expectations inherent in that obsession:

"The problem is that not all abstainers end up happy or go on to the great sex lives they were promised. Nor do all indulgers become miserable or marital train wrecks. More simply, however, I have found that few evangelicals accomplish what their pastors and parents wanted them to."

But then the article gets bogged down in terrible gender stereotypes and, at times, blatant sexism. For example, did you know that women are marrying older men because men their own age just don’t make enough money? “…earnings for 25- to 34-year-old men have fallen by 20 percent since 1971, even after accounting for inflation. No wonder young women marry men who are on average at least two years older than they.” Funny-- I didn’t realize we were all gold-diggers. Then there’s this: “If she decides to marry, one in three women has no choice but to marry down in terms of Christian maturity. Many of the hopeful ones wait, watching their late 20s and early 30s arrive with no husband. When the persistent longing turns to deep disappointment, some decide that they didn't really want to marry after all.“ Oh, yeah, I forgot-- marriage is the ultimate goal of every woman EVER, and those who never marry are pathetic. Riiiiight. And I won’t even comment on this offensive and obviously political statement: “Our Creator clearly intended for male and female to be knit together in covenantal relationship.” As soon as I read that, I ceased to view this piece as a serious work in any sense.

Interestingly, the online version of the piece provides a hyperlink to the author’s previous editorial in the Washington Post-- a grave mistake, I think, considering that a side-by-side comparison of the two pieces reveals that entire paragraphs of one were simply copied and pasted into the other. Way to write something new and original, dude.

(As a side note, the original editorial went even heavier on the gender double standards, opening with this: “If men weren't pulling women along with them on this upward swing [towards later marriage], I wouldn't be complaining.” So guys can marry late, but women need to get their butts up to the altar ASAP, eh?)

But the article’s greatest fault lies in its inability to produce any scientific or statistical information whatsoever. I keep telling people: anecdotal information is great for giving EXAMPLES to support information, but it cannot be the source of the supporting information itself. If your data can be collectively filed under “I know this one guy…”, then it will not hold up as an argument. And the author of this piece provides no actual information to prove that younger marriages work better.

In his discussion of his opponents’ objections to young marriage (none of which is sufficiently knocked down during the course of the author’s examination, I might add), Mr. Regnerus admits that early marriage is the number one predictor of divorce, but then tries to counter this weighty info with the classic “it could be worse” tactic:

“First, what is deemed "early marriage" by researchers is commonly misunderstood. The most competent evaluations of early marriage and divorce note that the association between early age-at-marriage and divorce occurs largely among those who marry as teenagers (before age 20). Although probably all of us know successful examples of such marriages, I still don't think teen marriage is wise. But the data suggest that marriages that commence in the early 20s are not as risky—especially for women—as conventional wisdom claims.”

Actually, that’s not the whole story, buster. Unless the CDC is lying to me, getting married after 25 still gives you a better chance of staying married than getting married any time before that. Sure, teen marriages are more likely to break up than ones cemented in a couple’s early twenties-- but that data in no way suggests that it’s better to marry in your twenties than in your thirties. In fact, if anything, it suggests the opposite.

Also, Regnerus admits that evangelicals do marry slightly earlier than the general population. Well, evangelicals are also more likely to divorce than any other faith group, including agnostics and atheists. Is this a so-called “case” for early marriage?

The saddest part of this whole piece is that its one decent point is obscured and minimized by all this other vapid blather. In discussing modern wedding customs, Regnerus makes a plea for simpler, less showy weddings:

“Marriage becomes equated with beautiful, successful people. Weddings become expensive displays of personal and family status… Such is the pressure cooker of modern weddings. None of this is good. Marriage is too important and too serious to be treated as yet another game to play, with winners and losers. It's a covenant of mutual submission and sacrificial love, not a contest of prestige, social norms, and saving face. A trend toward more modest weddings would be a great start.”

Yes, yes, yes. Too bad the author couldn’t have made this message the central one, instead of putting even more pressure on couples to marry before they’re ready.

My young marriage will survive, not because I was young when I married, but because I married for the right reasons and at the right time in my life. The simple truth is this: there is no right time to be married, because people aren’t all the same. For some, young marriages are a great idea; for many, they’re not. Younger couples shouldn’t get married young because they think it’s the “proper” time to marry, just as they shouldn’t marry because of abstinence pledges or family pressures or anything other than what’s inside their heads and their hearts. Young people can and should marry, but only if and when they are willing to acknowledge that getting married young has the potential to make it harder to preserve your relationship. Younger couples will often be more likely to grow in different directions, and often will be more likely to develop different ideas about the nature of their ideal family or living situation or job long after they tie the knot. If marriage is entered with these challenges in mind, it can work, no matter what the age of the couple may be.

But to increase the pressures on these young people-- pressures that start with sex and abstinence and continue with spiritual doubt or exploration-- to include marital pressure is, I think, not only a mistake, but a disservice to both the individual couples and to marriage as an institution. Mr. Regnerus means well, I’m sure, but in the end, he’s just one more example of why some evangelicals often seem too eager to preserve the murkier aspects of our past (sexual repression, forced gender roles, social and racial inequalities) than to embrace the better angels of our modern, multifaceted natures.

Yummy?

Um, did you know that some women, following the birth of their child, actually EAT THE PLACENTA?

I'm not talking about women in some other country somewhere. I'm talking about average American women. Eating their placentas. Huh. And there was even a column in Time magazine recently on this very subject!

I'm...nonplussed. It sounds interesting and useful, and it also makes me want to vomit into my hat. It's like I keep vacillating between, "Fascinating!" and "BLECH."

Would you eat a placenta? How about if you thought it could help stave off postpartum depression and aid in breastfeeding?

I don't yet know whether or not I would. I guess I'll just file that information away in the back of my brain somewhere...

The Only Child

When people discover that our family plan only includes one child, they're often somewhat indignant. "What if he or she is LONELY?!" they wail— as though a child is like a lapdog, limited only to its own house, to its own small family. Apparently, no one else can conceive of playgroups and library trips and park excursions and, y'know, SCHOOL.

I thought I was the only one who felt like having a single child might not be the end of the world...until today. Because it turns out that my grandma was an only child, and she LOVED it.

I knew she was her parents' only kid, but I didn't know how she felt about it until this evening. But apparently she adored it— getting all that attention from her parents and her aunts and uncles, never having screaming matches in the house with jealous siblings, never feeling like she had to compete for attention or for time with her parents. And she didn't end up a spoiled brat or anything, so clearly it's possible to raise a single child without spoiling it entirely.

I asked her, point blank, if she thought having one child was a good idea. And she said, unequivocally, "YES."

The more I think about it, the more I love it: only going through the Terrible Twos once, only having to deal with high school drama one time, never having to keep those tiny baby clothes boxed up in the attic for "the next one." I love the idea of having a child, of raising a child, and then of BEING DONE WITH CHILDREN. I mean, I'd never want to be done with MY child, I'd just like to have the baby part over with, since the interesting part of having a kid, to me, would be the part where he/she has an actual personality.

That was always the main thing about having kids that made me pause— I wasn't into the idea that the cycle would keep starting over and over, so that the parts I hated (and everyone I've ever met who has kids says that there are always SOME periods in childcare that are difficult) would become something to dread each time I had a kid. With only one, though, I'll be unprepared for everything, so I won't be actively dreading it— I'll be curious. And then, if I hit a particularly horrible part of childrearing (and I'm sure the Toddler Years are horrible) I won't ever have to do it again. It sounds DIVINE, doesn't it?

Plus, it's nice to think that Adam and I would get to reproduce without even replacing ourselves, so to speak, after we die. It's not as good as skipping kids altogether would be, in terms of environmental responsibility, but it's not bad.

I'm so glad my grandma approves of this plan. She's a cool lady, and I like to think that she's given the thumbs-up to my life plans.

Reality TV and Our Values

Usually I’m not a reality TV fan (well, with the obvious exception of America’s Next Top Model), but this season, two new reality shows have really grabbed my attention: “Hitched or Ditched” on the CW, and “Sixteen and Pregnant” on MTV. Reality shows are rarely all that “real,” but when viewed in tandem, these two shows reveal a lot about American ideas on marriage, babies, and the relationship between the two.

“Hitched or Ditched” takes couples who have been dating for a long time (or who have been judged “ready” for marriage by the friend or family member who nominated them for the program) and offers to provide their dream wedding, free of charge. The catch? They have to hold the wedding in one week— and they have to spend the week reflecting upon the strength of their relationship before making their final decision at the altar.

What first struck me was how invasive this seemed; I certainly wouldn’t have wanted millions of people watching me get married on TV. But then my second thought was that really, the whole thing blended together rather seamlessly— perhaps a result of the way modern weddings have become more about performance and entertainment and spectacle than about an intimate bonding moment between two people that cements their newly created family unit within their respective communities.

For example, the season finale this year involved a couple, El Lana (whose name just makes the think “The Lana” every time I see it written out) and Torrino (whose name just makes me think of the film “Gran Torino” whenever I see it written out), who are working through issues with their families. El Lana is white and Torrino is black, and Torrino’s mom doesn’t want them together at all. To top things off, this all takes place during that horrible ice storm in Kentucky awhile back, and El Lana is from Kentucky, so her family might not even be able to attend.

“I don’t know if I want to say ‘I do’ if no one’s there to see me,” sobbed El Lana on camera.

And I thought: really? Because as important as it was for me to have my family and friends with me on my wedding day, and as important as it was to have my mom and dad there when I got married— I don’t think a wedding is any less of a wedding if you’re getting married without people there to see you. I’ve seen this thread of discussion pop up a lot recently, especially on The Nest boards, where women frequently express their desire to hold a “vow renewal ceremony” only a few months after they’ve married because they didn’t have their “dream” wedding the first time around.

As many of you know, family is super important to me; if my parents couldn’t be there on my wedding day, I’d be crushed. But I wouldn’t need them to be there, I wouldn’t need them to see me, to get married. Weddings shouldn’t be about who’s there to see you look pretty— they’re supposed to be about who you see up at the altar.

I thought about this as El Lana sat in the bridal shop, waiting to look at wedding dresses. She revealed to her wedding planner and her assembled friends that she’d once bought a white dress that she’d hoped to wear at her wedding— and it was a thirteen-dollar party dress.

“We think you should have something more…special than that,” crooned the wedding planner, holding out an armful of overpriced gowns for El Lana to model.

Oh, I’m sorry— nothing affordable can be “special,” apparently. Only spending brings happiness, according to this woman’s logic.

Watching “Hitched or Ditched” has helped me to understand some of why people have such difficulty keeping their marriages healthy: because they make it all about them as individuals. The need to feel “special” on your day, the need to be in the spotlight, the idea that your match is made in heaven, that your marriage will be perfect, all point to expectations that can’t possibly be attained. When El Lana hears about the ice storm, she wonders aloud: “Is that God telling us that it’s not supposed to happen?” Geez— how heavy would that be, to wonder if God himself is weighing in on your love? How can a marriage with that amount of pressure weighing it down ever have a chance?

I was also interested to see people’s weighty views of marriage in “Sixteen and Pregnant,” a more documentary-style show that follows teen mothers (and often fathers) through pregnancy, job searches, school struggles, and parental issues. Often, the teens (and even their parents) display a reverence for (and a fear of) marriage that they certain don’t seem to reserve for pregnancy.

Take this week’s episode, for example. Ebony and her boyfriend Josh have plans to go into the Air Force and to get married after they graduate from high school, but Ebony’s pregnancy forces them to change their plans dramatically. They discover that the Air Force won’t let both of them enlist if they have a child together; Ebony misses so much school that she can’t graduate; her “fiancé,” a man-child who has missed more than 200 classes this semester, can’t seem to get his act together.

The confusing part was when the two kids were snuggling together and Josh confessed that he was rethinking his marriage proposal entirely. Apparently, creating an entirely new human being who is completely dependent upon you is LESS of a commitment than sharing your house and health benefits with someone you love. Even though half of American marriages end in divorce. Huh.

“We’re already seventeen and having a kid,” Josh said in a high, childish voice. “That’s a big step right there. I’m not trying to be seventeen and married.”

Interesting.

In a previous episode, pregnant teen Amber is dating the older (but less mature) Gary, who is friends with Amber’s older brother. Amber’s parents disapprove of Gary, and feel like he’s not worthy of their daughter. When Amber becomes pregnant, they seem to feel that their single biggest blessing in the whole ordeal is that “at least they’re not married.”

Really? Guys, your daughter just had a baby with him. They’re going to have to see each other constantly, whether they like it or not, because now they have a kid. Even if they break up, this baby will still be there, a reminder that they were once together. They’ve done something that— at least at this stage of the pregnancy— is impossible to undo. And you’re worried that they might get married?

I’m starting to think that maybe reality TV does show us something about reality, albeit not always the reality of everyday lives or everyday people. In some ways, reality TV can tell us about the things we wish weren’t realities— the dissonant and sometimes repressive values we can’t seem to shake, the less noble and less admirable yearnings we hold onto quietly, the dark, secret dreams we keep pent up inside us until we decide to share them on national TV.

From “Survivor” and “Big Brother,” we’ve learned that we’re all voyeurs, that we all really do care what’s happening in our neighbors’ bedrooms. “America’s Got Talent” and “American Idol” proved to us that while we love to worship success, we also love to laugh at failure. “The Biggest Loser” and “America’s Next Top Model” showed us that while we like to talk the talk about beauty coming from within, we still cling to strange ideas about what makes a person beautiful, or even worthwhile.

With “Hitched or Ditched” and “Sixteen and Pregnant,” we see how we really feel about babies and marriage and growing up. And sometimes, it’s not something we want to see.

Free Range Kids

I've been reading quite a bit about the small backlash against helicopter parenting that has stealthily made itself known in the past few years. They call it Free Range Parenting, and it's a lot more akin to the way I grew up than to the way I've seen a number of kids being treated lately.

When I was seven years old, I walked to public school (two blocks away, through an urban neighborhood) by myself. At nine, I walked down to the pizza shop three blocks away with my best friend Allie and had a slice of cheese pizza. I played outside by myself (or with friends) all summer, and if the yard felt too small, I was allowed to run around the block as well, provided I took a friend or a sister and provided I told my mom where I'd be. When I got to high school, I was allowed to go anywhere I pleased with friends, so long as I let my parents know where I'd be, how long I'd be there, and how I could be reached. "Curfew" wasn't a fixed time— each situation was considered separately, and my parents and I would always be able to work out a sensible time for me to come home. (For example, school night hangouts had to end by nine, many weekend parties could last until eleven, and my first real date with my first real boyfriend— at age 16— justified being out until midnight.) When I turned seventeen and got my scholarship to UWC, I moved out and did things on my own— chose my own classes, fought my own battles, made my own decisions about almost everything.

But clearly, this has not been the experience of very many other people. It is apparent that kids today are expected to do everything within reach of mom and dad, no matter how old they are, no matter how relatively mature they might be. Parents won't let their kids play in the yard alone anymore; they won't send them down to the corner store; sometimes they won't even let them choose their own college classes.

I like what Phillip Pullman, the fabulous author of The Golden Compass, said about the ways in which we hover over and shield our children: that it teaches kids "‘that the world is a dark and nasty place where everybody wants to murder and rape them... It assumes that the default position of one human being to another is predatory rather than kindness."

There’s a distinct difference between nurturing and smothering, between concern and hysteria, between caution and obsession. And while I certainly wouldn't want to insist that parents swing to the other extreme and start neglecting their kids (and I've seen plenty of neglected kids— a few of my sisters' friends seem to fit the bill), I also think that overly-zealous moms and dads might want to cool their heels a bit. After all, most crimes against children are committed by family members or friends, not random people on the street.

On the other hand, I wonder how I'll feel about this when I actually have a child. Will I be paranoid? Will I be strong enough to let go when I need to let go? I'm the sort of person who agonizes over decisions like these— would I be able to firmly decide when I can trust my child? And really, these things are so subjective. At what age it would be appropriate to leave my child home alone? What age it would be appropriate to allow them to walk to school alone? What age they can be trusted to babysit other children? There's no blueprint here— it all depends on the individual situation, on the individual child.

Geez, I'm glad I have another 9 years to sort this out. :)

On Partnership and Priorities

I’m confused and annoyed by this article, “On Marriage: Let’s Call The Whole Thing Off,” in which the author seems convinced that a happy marriage is impossible.

The problem, of course, is that the author is presupposing that the conditions under which she maintained her marriage are unavoidable; they are not, however, and they really explain a lot about the dissolution of her relationship.

See, her marriage broke up because she took on an extramarital affair; when she disclosed the affair and went with her husband to counseling, she began to lament the “work” that goes into a relationship. She then listed all the chores she deals with everyday, including picking the kids up from school, sorting mail, waiting for the cable guy, and feeding the dog. She ends that paragraph with this forlorn conclusion:

“Do you see? Given my staggering working mother’s to-do list, I cannot take on yet another arduous home- and self-improvement project, that of rekindling our romance.”

My issue here is that she seems to feel that the institution of marriage is responsible for her inability to take on this new “project.” I posit, however, that this failure results from the way in which she has prioritized her life.

“I’m busy” seems like everyone’s greatest defense these days. Life is fast-paced and everyone knows it, so not having the time for something as fundamental as your relationships with other people is a pretty much a given now. But I wonder how many people realize that putting money and hobbies and responsibilities before these relationships is a CHOICE, and has little to do with the strength of the marriage (or friendship) itself.

Put more bluntly: if this chick is more willing to include “wait for the cable guy” than “fix my relationship with my husband” on her to-do list, why is she blaming the institution of marriage for her divorce? Why isn’t she scratching “wait for the cable guy” off of her list first?

The problem is that people think you can have it all: money, power, love, stability, freedom. You can’t have everything you’ve ever wanted, folks. That’s pretty much the big lesson of growing up: that you have to pick which things are important to you, and then you have to prioritize them. This is what’s important to me: my family, my friends, learning, discovering. Here are the things that I would like to have, but which are much less important: fame, wealth, beauty, popularity. Therefore, I put that first list ahead of the second one; in a showdown between family and money, say, family will win. I will always turn down that high-paying job because it requires too much travel or because it would keep me away from my family. And this is what makes me happy: knowing that the things that are important to me will always come first. There's nothing wrong with having priorities that are different— say, money over family— but then you don't get to be surprised when your marriage doesn't work out, just like I don't get to be surprised when I'm dirt poor. If marriage comes after other things, then you'll be more successful in those other things than in marriage.

If the author had gone for a genuine defense of polyamory, I might have bought it. I believe that, for some people, polyamory can be a healthy way to build relationships. It’s not for me, but then again, neither is online dating or bungee jumping— just because it’s not my thing doesn’t mean I disapprove of it. But the author isn’t really arguing that she should feel free to love more than one person. She even dismisses the possibility of sexually open marriages, saying that they’re just too “icky” to most people. Really, she just thinks she should be free to have sex with someone else while her husband provides shelter and stability, all the while not really pursuing love with anyone:

“If high-revving women are sexually frustrated, let them have some sort of French arrangement where they have two men, the postfeminist model dad building shelves, cooking bouillabaisse, and ignoring them in the home, and the occasional fun-loving boyfriend the kids never see. Alternately, if both spouses find life already rather exhausting, never mind chasing around for sex. Long-married husbands and wives should pleasantly agree to be friends, to set the bedroom aglow at night by the mute opening of separate laptops and just be done with it. More than anything, aside from providing insulation from the world at large, that kind of arrangement could be the perfect way to be left alone.”

Maybe she’s being sarcastic, and I just don’t get it. Maybe she’s being trendy and clever, and I don’t understand.

But that sounds like an awfully lonely way to live.

Perhaps it’s her closing paragraph that most acutely demonstrates why I think she’s wrong:

“In any case, here’s my final piece of advice: avoid marriage — or you too may suffer the emotional pain, the humiliation, and the logistical difficulty, not to mention the expense, of breaking up a long-term union at midlife for something as demonstrably fleeting as love.”

There we have it: love. Love is part of a marriage, to be sure— but it is ONLY ONE PART. You also need affection, kindness, patience, compatibility, compassion, and trust.

Even ignoring the elitist, yuppie suppositions and attitudes that ran throughout the piece (for example, she maintains a sort of subtle distaste for men who cook and clean, especially with her description of how a friend discussed her husband’s pursuits: ““Ian has his Cook’s Illustrated…And his — his men’s online fennel club”), most of this article was a real crock. Maybe the part about how today’s couples are strangely drawn to the 1950s model of a marriage was kind of interesting, but the rest was pretty self-absorbed and silly.

Marriage certainly isn’t for everyone— but it’s not useless to EVERYONE. I mean, to be honest with you, I don’t know a whole lot of divorced people. Well, I have one uncle who got divorced, but that’s it. Everyone else in my family and my circle of friends is happily married or happily unmarried— no divorce needed. We have happy, healthy marriages in my family, and it doesn’t seem like any of us are “staying for the kids” (in fact, some of us don’t even have kids— a thought that never seems to occur to this article’s author). How does she explain us? Her assumptions only seem to work in her world, not in mine; they only work with her set of values, not the values I share with my family.

I don’t think divorce is some sort of horrible thing, to be honest with you. People grow apart, and lives diverge, and sometimes personalities change. I think the freedom to seek divorce when you want it is a great thing, and I don’t disapprove of people who divorce— divorce is just as much of a right as marriage.

But I think this woman is championing divorce for the wrong reasons, and is condemning marriage for the wrong reasons. And that makes me sad.

Experiencing Planned Parenthood

I’ve always been a big fan of Planned Parenthood in theory, but before today, I’d never needed any of their services. Now, though, I can thoroughly recommend them as an excellent and affordable health center!

I’m on the Pill. I’d rather have an IUD (which is specifically recommended for monogamous women who don’t want to have babies for a long time but who might want to have them eventually), but they’re too expensive up front, and I’m sure our piss-poor, fly-by-night insurance wouldn’t chip in for it. So I take the Pill every day, and I’ve been on it since my sophomore year in college.

Well, before I left college last year, I had my annual exam (Pap smear, breast exam— gals, you know the drill) and got a prescription for a year’s worth of Pills. See, back then, I was on my parents’ insurance, which meant that getting my packs from the pharmacy only cost TWO DOLLARS (and apparently, since then, the price for generics has fallen to NOTHING. Zip. Zero. Be jealous of college professors, my friends. :P)

When we got married, Adam's insurance paid for some of the cost of my birth control, bringing it to a respectable $10 per month. But when Adam lost his job and we signed up to purchase crappy insurance that basically is only useful in emergencies, my Pill price went waaaay up— to almost $30 per pack. Boo.

I figured that Planned Parenthood might gimme a break, so I got online and signed up for an appointment. That’s right— you can make an appointment at a Planned Parenthood clinic near you OVER THE INTERNET. No need to talk to a human being— just fill out the form, and you’ll get an email in your inbox confirming the location, time, and date of your appointment.

As a bonus, Planned Parenthood asks you how you’d like them to identify themselves if they need to call you on the phone (to confirm or change the appointment, to give you test results, etc). You can choose “Planned Parenthood” (I picked that one— what do I have to hide?), “the doctor’s office,” “Cory” (??), or “other”— and if you pick that latter option, you can fill in the blank with any name or title you want. This way, if you’re in a position where you don’t want roommates or family members to know your business, you can keep things on the DL.

I expected a big, hospital-esque place, but the Youngstown Planned Parenthood building is just a cosy remodeled house. No protesters, no clinical wallpaper— just a nice house, with a parking lot and a waiting room. I had to wait quite awhile to get my appointment, but that was okay— I needed to fill out some paperwork anyways.

The nurses and the doctor were so so so nice. I explained what I needed, and they told me (with the air of someone breaking tragic news to a close friend) that they didn’t carry my current brand, but that they could write me a prescription if I wanted to get it at the pharmacy. “How much for the brand you DO have on hand?” I asked. “Oh, we’ll give you three packs of this low-dose, monocyclic kind (which should be just like your current brand) for $36,” the nurse said.

Thirty-six bucks. Three months on my old stuff would’ve been $80.

Part of the reason I got it so cheap was that they allowed me to apply for financial aid AND use my crap-tastic insurance! The aid covered half the cost of the birth control, and the insurance company MIGHT pay for at least part of the clinic visit. Maybe. We shall see.

And don’t forget— Planned Parenthood does provide services for BOTH sexes. Several guys came into the clinic during the course of my visit. And you don’t even need an appointment if you want some emergency contraception or if you need a pregnancy test; walk-ins are welcome in those cases. Adam says that when I was being seen, two different people came in to get some Plan B.

All in all, it was a pleasant visit, and it felt nice not to be treated like a dirty whore for wanting to prevent my husband and I from having unwanted rugrats. There were all sorts of people there— moms with their little kids, boyfriends looking for info for their girlfriends, teenagers, office workers, even other nurses. Everyone was treated kindly and respectfully, and no one was turned away.

Gals, if you need private girl stuff, consider Planned Parenthood! :D

Brides and Sex: A Tale Of Two Madonnas

I'm deeply disturbed by this article I just read, "MySpace Generation Brides Go For Sexy, Not Virginal." And it's not just the incredibly upsetting comments at the bottom of the page (from the sexist pig who thinks men are smarter than women, from the prissy snot who says she's a "Christian" and wouldn't be "filthy" enough to have sex before marriage, because it would bring "shame on [her] family")— it's just the judgmental tone of the article overall.

Presenting the facts is one thing; setting the facts up as a comparison that puts women in an unfair position is another. Like this sentence: "More vamp than virgin, [brides are] having bachelorette parties that are as raunchy as their fiancés' sendoffs." Here, the insinuated problem is not that the raunchiness is occurring, but that it is occurring EQUALLY— that brides are daring to expect the same experience as their fiances. Or how about this quote from Stephanie Coontz, some social historian who decided to write one of those pop-history books that publishers so love to issue: "I worry that [sexualization] can take over. The message you're sending about your appearance can override other conversations you should be having about your future." The unspoken assumption in this sentence is that sexuality sends a NEGATIVE message about one's appearance, never a positive one.

Did I miss something? Did we somehow warp ourselves back into the 1890s? Why the hell would anyone care if a bride wants to look sexy?

I didn't want a particularly vampy look at my wedding, but that's just not my style. I DID wear a strapless dress, though, with a lace-up bodice. Does that make me, the minister's wife, a whore?

The strange thing about this article is how it seems to draw some sort of parallel between the sexualization of children and the sexualization of brides. It's almost as if the article conflates the two states, and presents this image of child brides standing at the altar in corsets and fishnets.

I understand the line of thinking they're presenting— that the sexualized behavior that children learn in adolescence can manifest itself in adulthood— but I don't agree that this way of analyzing the subject draws a reasonable conclusion. This line of thinking assumes a pre-existing condition that hasn't existed since the 1800s, at least: that there is no time gap between childhood and marriage. It's as though they expect women to move directly from girlhood to wifedom without any mitigating non-married adult life in between. Obviously, people haven't done marriage that way for a good long time— why can't we acknowledge that brides are grown-up women, not Disney characters or Barbies, and that they have every right to be in control of their sexuality?

Bizarrely enough, the article even acknowledges that the gap between childhood and marriage exists, saying that women are getting married later and later (as though this were a bad thing!), usually around 28 or so. But somehow it still attempts to make this connection between teen sexiness and grown-up sexiness: "In American society now, you see little girls being sexed up...You can't disconnect that from the way the wedding industry is going. We have 13-year-olds getting makeovers and having oral sex." (A quote from another pop sociologist— geez, they just let anyone major in sociology these days, don't they?)

Wait...you don't get to justify your logic by using the word "can't." This woman is pretty much just saying that you "can't" ignore the connection between teen sex and sexy weddings because teens have sex and women get married in sexy dresses. That's not the way an argument works, my dear. That's like if I said: "Obviously, eating mangos can give you a heart attack. You can't ignore the connection; people eat mangos, and people have heart attacks. It's simple."

Y'know, I hate to tell you, but my generation— the generation I assume they're discussing— ISN'T THE MYSPACE GENERATION TO BEGIN WITH. Didn't the author do any research? The "MySpace generation" is my fifteen-year-old sister's generation, and they're not getting married yet; my generation was ALREADY GROWN UP when MySpace and Facebook came around. Guys, that's like calling forty-year-olds the "Pruis generation" just because they happened to be alive when Pruises were invented. That doesn't even make sense.

Furthermore, the article grossly exaggerates the degree to which exhibitionism contributes to bridal sexualization. The author, while mentioning in passing that boudoir photos are usually only taken as a gift to the groom, seems to deliberately mislead the audience into imagining that such personal pictures would be displayed at the ceremony or posted in public forums. Boudoir photos (a recent movement that I found confusing in my bridal days, but which seemed to genuinely empower some women) are almost always intended to be given privately to the husband-to-be after the ceremony, almost as a dual bridal gift— the wife has fun shooting the pictures, and the husband enjoys looking at them. It's not my cup of tea, but if other people want to do these things privately, who's to tell them they're wrong? It's not like they're forcing family and friends to stare at their thong-clad behinds. In fact, I'd even go so far as to say that the real exhibitionism comes with virginity rings and purity balls and all the other silly ways women have come up with to broadcast the fact that they enjoy commodifying their virginity.

It's this weird fusion of the feminine and the childish that bothers me. So does the article's way of repeatedly contrasting sexualized brides with Disney princesses. The piece never actually explains why its author seems to imagine that grown women would WANT to look like princesses when they get married. We're not nine years old, are we? So why would we want to look like Prom queens instead of healthy, happy, sexual women?

This fusion also bothers me because it intimates that one cannot be opposed to teen sex without also being opposed to grown women having sex. Let's go over this concept again, shall we: there are some things that are good (or at least acceptable) for adults and bad for children. Drinking, for example. Having babies. Owning homes.

It's like cosmetics— grown women use them, but kids shouldn't. I don't think kids should wear makeup— not even teenagers— because I think you need time during your teen years to become comfortable with how you look. If you've been wearing makeup constantly since you were twelve, you won't have any idea what you truly look like— or how you truly feel about your natural, naked self— when you're, say, eighteen. I had a friend in high school who once told me, when we were both sixteen, that she couldn't fathom the idea of walking out the door without makeup. "I feel so ugly without this stuff on my face," she said. "I don't want people to see what I really look like." She was a smart, straight-A student who is now studying law at UPenn, so it's not like she was a shallow creature. She just hadn't learned, at age sixteen, to like herself for herself. I've lost touch with her, so I don't know if she ever found out how to do that.

That's what I think sex is like— having it too young means that you prevent yourself from learning important things about who you are. In order to learn the right lessons about your sexuality, you first have to reach that state of comfort in your identity, even if you don't fully understand that identity. And while I've never met a teen who didn't think they were perfectly comfortable with themselves and who didn't assume that they could handle anything the world could throw at them, I've also never met a teen who was right about those assumptions.

But just because it's not a good idea to do it before you graduate from high school doesn't mean it's not a good idea at all. That's just silly, folks. I mean, my sister is fifteen, and I don't think she should be having sex at her age. But if, when she graduates from high school and she's at least eighteen years old and she's begun college, she comes to me and says, "Should I have sex with my boyfriend?" I wouldn't necessarily say no. I'd probably say, "You should think about it, and you should make the best decision you can. I can't tell you what to do, because you're an adult now, and you have to make these choices yourself." And then I'd offer to take her to get some birth control, and I'd tell her everything I know about the pill and condoms and STDs and abstinence and the emotions and consequences associated with sex. Teen sex and grownup sex are different, and I think, in our hysteria over the supposed "culture wars," we're forgetting that.

Furthermore, why aren't we MORE disturbed by women who want to live the "Disney princess" fantasy instead of exploring their sexuality in a healthy way? I'm more disgusted by that phenomenon, because that really IS trying to conflate childhood innocence with virginal purity in adulthood. And even then, why does it have to be a choice between these two extremes? On such an important and meaningful day, why does a bride have to choose between the Madonna and the Madonna? Why are there only two paths— Cinderella or Roxanne? What's wrong with being sexy AND proud— moral AND empowered?

I guess, when it comes down to it, I'm disappointed that this article even exists. If the whole piece had been written as one of those fluffy, look-at-this-month's-fashion-trends type of things, I wouldn't have even cared. But I felt as though this piece was written with a certain agenda, under certain assumptions, and with a certain disdain for women in general. The whole time I was reading, I felt vaguely insulted.

Why is it still news when a woman is unafraid of sex?

I Call Bull

I cannot even tell you how sick I am of the endless urban legend that young men today are in "crisis" because women are more empowered and more able to break out of repressive gender roles.

First off, it's a little whiny to complain that equal gender treatment seems to provide equal life success. Saying, "Men aren't as successful in comparison to women now because women are permitted more success" is like opining that when you gave away some of your vast fortune to the poor, you became a little less rich than you were before. The entire point is that this is SUPPOSED to happen; when women are able to compete for the high-paying jobs, fewer men will get the high-paying jobs, but as that's the way it should have been in the first place (that is, with an equal number of men and women getting the higher-paying jobs), my sympathy is a little less than enthusiastic.

Guys, this is bunk. And what's worse is this: by perpetuating this crap, you really ARE hurting men.

It's not just the women who suffer; don't people realize how much gender stereotyping hurts men as well? What about the boys who are taught that women are "weaker," and then find out that this isn't the case at all? What about the mothers who just don't feel the need to buy color-coded baby items— are their sons doomed to a lifetime of humiliation? What about the boys who don't WANT to play football or chew tobacco? What about the boys who just naturally like Barbies and musical theater, like my best friend in first grade did? What about the men who'd rather stay home with the kids than go off to that grueling nine-to-five?

What about my husband?

Adam is what is often known as a "man's man". He rides horses at full gallop with no shoes on, folks. He can hold me completely over his head for extended periods of time; he has rippling muscles and strong biceps; he can fix anything (cars, furniture, fishing reels, you name it) he can make anything (he's building my parents a deck from scratch right now), and he loves football, beer, and (my) boobies.

But Adam isn't content to live the stereotype. Adam also loves to cook. Adam subscribes to multiple cooking magazines, and pours over them when they arrive in our mailbox, picking our recipes and planning out menus. Adam likes being unemployed right now; he's thrilled by the idea of taking care of things back home while I go out into the boring, workaday world and bring home the bacon. Adam's vision for the future includes him raising our baby and making dinner, and me taking over the reins of financial responsibility.

Which is perfect for me, of course, because while I'm what's often known as a "girlie girl"— pink is my favorite color, I love skirts and dresses, I subscribe to Cosmo and watch Sex and the City and loooooove to eat ice cream and squeal with my girlfriends over the treachery of someone's ex-boyfriend— I'm also definitely made for being in charge. And why should those two aspects of my personality be at odds? I'm an ambitious, determined, and clever young woman, and I'd much rather be out making the dough than staying at home in a hot kitchen kneading the dough.

It all comes down to how we express our love: Adam expresses his through nurturing and tending to people (he's a great man to have nearby if you've got a stomach flu!), while I express mine through providing security and stability. And who’s to say how we express our love? Isn't the fact that we both came to these roles on our own, and we both knew deep down what we wanted, evidence enough that our current family positions are naturally occurring? Being a domestic goddess would run contrary to everything I am and everything I feel— why should I then be told that being a woman means that I'm "naturally" more inclined in the kitchen, when my own experience blatantly says otherwise?

This "men in crisis" stuff seems like bullshit to me. Men aren't in crisis. They're learning to live as equals, and a small but vocal number of them don't like it.

All I can say is: don't make me beat you guys up. :D

Common sense, folks.

So I'm doing this temp job, and I'm bored at work, and I'm hanging out on these stupid, stupid message boards, right, and someone posts this whole sob story about how she doesn't know whether or not she should go through with her wedding. See, she got pregnant shortly after her fiancé slept with some other girl and got her pregnant...but wait, wait, that's actually not the reason this girl is worried. The reason she's worried is because the guy keeps writing emails and Facebook messages to this other girl, and saying things like "hey, sexy," and asking when they can meet up again.

And the girl is actually unsure as to whether or not she should marry this guy. Apparently, she thinks that there is a chance that this guy "was just writing stuff without thinking about how it sounded."

Um, you're precisely right, you ass-- he wasn't thinking about how it sounded, because it wasn't meant for you. It was meant for the OTHER mother of his children, with whom he is clearly STILL SLEEPING.

Sometimes, people are genuinely confused by love. I know that there are people who fall out of love every day without a reason, and people who end up divorced without understanding how they got there, because they really did make all the right choices and thought hard about their decisions. Love is tricky, sometimes.

But other times, THIS SHIT AIN'T HARD, YO. If you can't figure out that your babydaddy isn't gonna stop sleeping with other chicks at this point, you're just not living in the real world.

And furthermore, I can't understand why having a baby with someone is considered LESS OF A COMMITMENT than marriage. This chick seemed to think that marriage would change their relationship more than the child they had already made together had changed it. I see this all the time: people who end up having a child with their significant other, but who couldn't possibly get married to them, because that's "a big step" and "a lot of commitment."

Now, I understand and respect people who choose not to marry because they dislike the concept of marriage and don't believe in it as an institution. That's fine-- marriage isn't for everyone. I also understand and respect people who have kids and believe in marriage but who can't get married for other reasons (family, social pressure, money, etc.). Some people need extra time because of their individual circumstances. But if you believe that marriage is the right step for you in general but see it as a commitment that is more serious than having a kid...well, that's where I get confused.

Because, see, marriage isn't a situation that CREATES A WHOLE NEW LIFE. Dude-- having a baby is something you can't take back. No one enjoys divorce, but it IS possible, and if you regret getting married, you can always change your mind later on (preferably before there are kids/even more tangled emotions involved). If you have a baby and then decide that you don't want it, you're pretty much up a creek. Once that kid pops out of your vajayjay, you are stuck, missy-- unless you want to give it up for adoption, which is, of course, a wonderful thing and all, but that in itself involves serious emotions and a lifetime commitment to one particular decision.

So really, in the end, this girl on the message boards makes me extra sad, because so much of her pain and suffering could have been prevented by simple THOUGHT. Use a condom. In fact, use a condom AND birth control pills or patches or whatever. Make your philandering jerkface of a fiancé wear a condom ever time, especially when he bangs other chicks. And for that matter, when your boyfriend comes crawling back to you and whimpering after he knocks someone else up, don't say, "Oh, okay, sounds good-- let's get married." Forgiveness is important, but forgiveness isn't the same thing as permission to do it again.

As George W. Bush once said: "Fool me once, shame...shame on you. Fool me twice...you can't get fooled again."

But the problem is this: people don't really want to know how love works. They say they do, but they don't. When they ask for romantic advice, they don't want the truth, which is usually something like: "Your boyfriend is a feckless thug who will probably leave you within six months of your marriage, so make sure you take those birth control pills, honey, because you don't wanna be perpetuating his dumb-ass DNA any further."

Instead, people want comforting, vague advice-- stuff like, "Well, sometimes people change," or "Follow your heart and do what you think is right."

NO, BITCH. Follow your HEAD. Your head is pretty damn smart. Use it.

And yes, people can change-- my husband changed from a crazy young party boy into a loving, devoted house-husband. But his essential personality characteristics-- kindness, loyalty, devotion-- never changed. He was always like that. People can change their habits, but they can't change their hearts. And they certainly never will change ANYTHING if you keep rewarding their selfish behavior by pretending like it doesn't matter, like it's not an integral part of who they are. And this works the same way for the gentlemen out there-- be honest with yourselves, and don't let the ladies (or the other gentlemen, if that's how you do it) push you around. Love has nothing to do with tolerating other people's cruelty.

Love is strange, and sometimes it's not very straightforward. But other times, it's really not as tough as we make it out to be.

A Good Friday Confession

I am a hypocrite.

Now, some of you are screaming, "I knew it! I knew it!" but let me assure you, this has nothing to do with politics or religion.

It has to do with baby names.

See, I was always creeped out by those people who pick out baby names before they're even trying to conceive. It's like, can't you just wait until the actual event occurs to start thinking about it? I think I even wrote a post about this topic at one point, and how much it annoyed me.

And yet...and yet...

It's true. Adam and I have actually discussed baby names— TEN YEARS IN ADVANCE.

I know. I hate me, too.

But it's not like we're eager to have our single child or anything. It's just that, well, when everyone else is talking to you about babies, you start talking about them with each other, as well.

It hasn't been a serious discussion, either. It's been a light-hearted series of bedtime or driving-to-work bantering, and really, the whole thing started off as a joke. Adam mentioned in jest that if we ever had a son, he wanted to name him James (after his dad) so that we could call him "Jimmy." Uh, obviously, I had to nip THAT idea in the bud, so I asked him what sorts of other names he liked. And we came up with our two baby names, one for each gender. Ten years ahead of time. Please shoot me in the face.

In case you're curious, here they are:

GIRL: Fiona A. McCluskey (the "A" will be some derivative of my mother's first name, Anita, but we haven't quite figured our what yet. Anne? Anna? Annushka? Annette?)

BOY: Judah ("Jude") James McCluskey

Thoughts? Comments? Vicious beatings with brass knuckles?

Rules, schmules

I'm starting to suspect that all dating and relationship advice is bunk.

See, you may not know this, but— and part of me is ashamed to admit this— I'm a Cosmo girl. It's true: Philosophy Walker subscribes to Cosmopolitan. I'm also obsessed with pink/Hello Kitty/fuzzy animals, I love skirts and dresses, and I cry at the drop of a hat— plus I'm terrified of spiders and I frequently take bubble baths. I'm what is often referred to as a "girly girl," and as a result, I've had the misfortune to be exposed to a fairly large volume of relationship advice via glossy magazines and terrible television programming.

But I say to you: that stuff is all ridiculous. Relationship advice is never the result of actual scientific research— it's basically all stereotype and silly social misconceptions. And the reason I say this is because I've broken all the relationship rules in the Big Bible of Dating, and I somehow ended up happily married.

Cases in point:

1. Many claim that moving too fast in a relationship is bad news. The idea, apparently, is that if you let a guy know you're attached to him, he'll think of you as clingy and needy or he'll lose interest in something called "The Chase," which I think means that guys like to be forced to make an effort with girls, but which actually just makes me think of some sort of hardcore Discovery Channel episode featuring a hungry cheetah and an unfortunate gazelle.

But Adam and I got real serious, real fast. We were pretty much inseparable since our first date, and went straight from three weeks of newly-dating bliss (we met while I was home from college for winter break) to a real, honest-to-goodness long distance relationship. We began discussing marriage about a year into our relationship, and became officially engaged two months after that. Our engagement was only six months long, too, so it's clear we're not really into the whole "take it slow" thing.

But here's the deal: we're both very emotional people, and we're both people who are perfectly comfortable with showing our love to other people. I guess you could say we're both very affectionate in general, and so it was actually refreshing for us to each meet someone else who wasn't paranoid about coming off as needy or crazy. We ARE needy— we need each other. And that's perfectly cool for the both of us.

2. As I've mentioned before in a previous post, we do not subscribe to the "hide the gross stuff you do" principle in our home. My husband has witnessed me doing all sorts of gross things, and it hasn't diminished his passion for me; in fact, he thinks it's sexy that I'm confident enough to do these things around him. And I for one think he's sexy no matter what he's doing!

I understand when newly-dating couples want to hold on to a bit of the mystery, but think it's silly for serious, dedicated, long-term couples to be so squeamish— particularly (and I will not mince words here) if they're having sex. Um, you just squished together your two most intimate, secret, and embarrassing parts, you just made silly noises and squooshed up your cheeks into Orgasm Faces and exchanged smelly bodily fluids... so how exactly is it shocking to discover that your S.O. poops?

3. I'm not even gonna comment on this dating rule. SO INSULTING. I love a man with good money sense... and I love that my husband is poor. To me, whipping out a coupon says, "I know where my priorities are— and spending a crapload on some stupid dinner isn't it."

What dating rules have you broken?

Silly Wedding Advice

Uh, so MSN has an article entitled "Plan a Wedding For Under $10K." Like it's HARD.

Gimme a break, folks. I'm sick of people acting as though a wedding is something that costs a bazillion dollars by default. I had my wedding for under $5000, and I could have cut waaay more corners than I did— I mean, I got a dress at David's Bridal instead of at a thrift store or a department store!

Some issues I have with the above article:

1. The article claims that paying less than $400 for an offset-printed invite and reply card suite for 75 people is a GOOD DEAL. Really?! Because I got mine done that the local CCA (the correctional facility that runs programs, like print shops, to retrain former inmates) for $168.00, and that was for EVERYTHING: invites, replay cards, envelopes, and everything pre-printed. AND that was for 100 sets.

People forget that the bridal industry THRIVES on the internet; witness The Knot and Wedding Channel. Try mom-and-pop print shops instead, or less traditional methods like the CCA!

2. $150 for flowers? You know, unlike money, flowers really do grow on trees, folks. Just go out to the country and pick some, for goodness sakes. Or grow them yourself. That's what I did for the few flowers we had— although we hardly had any, because live flowers creep Adam out. He thinks it's morbid to use living things that are slowly dying as decorations, which I suppose is exactly what cut flowers are. He calls flower bouquets the "the gift of death"! :P

3. $500 for a photographer? PLEASE. Just get some photography student from the local university— or do what we did, and hire the official university photographer! He gave us awesome pictures for about $100.

4. The article suggests saving money on a gown by shopping at J. Crew. I'm not even going to dignify that with a reply.

5. I don't get why you'd pay $80 to have someone else put makeup on you. If you must have makeup (against which I would advise, because it seems like every single newly married woman on The Nest says the same thing: "I wish I hadn't worn so much makeup, because now I don't look like myself in the pictures"), just do it yourself. I can't tell the difference between professional makeup and an amateur job, so chances are none of guests will notice/care, either.

6. $300 dollars for a video you'll never ever watch? Are you kidding me? That's not being frugal at all. Just have someone set up a camcorder in the back. That's what we did, and the results were good enough to send to friends and family members who were unable to attend. And it's not like we'd ever watch the thing more than once— we were there, remember?

7. The preponderance of DJs at weddings is mystifying, because everyone is always going on about how local DJs play bad music that no one likes. I can't for the life of me figure out why people who are on a tight budget don't just use an iPod and some speakers. That's what we did, and it gave us a chance to play music that we liked and that would get everyone dancing. Plus, at the end of the evening (when everyone had taken their shoes off and let their hair down) we could let close friends and family members pick the songs they wanted to hear. And it didn't cost us a penny.

You know, I don't think this article is really espousing a frugal wedding, but I also don't think it's actually geared towards people who are genuinely used to living on a budget. Like many of these recession how-to articles, I think its intended reader is really the type of person who would otherwise be spending $40,000 on a wedding, but who is trying to cut back in order to look less ostentatious. And while that tone-it-down instinct is laudable, I think maybe the true penny-pinchers among us (and I know you're out there...we've discussed our thriftiness before!) ought to start writing our own articles, so that people who really DO need to save every cent can find some useful advice!

Anyone else have some good tips (from your own experience or not) on how to save on a wedding?

To Model, Or Not To Model

Hokay— so I have a serious dilemma, yo, and I need y'all to help me out.

Question: SHOULD I TRY OUT FOR AMERICA'S NEXT TOP MODEL?

Background: I've been watching the show since it first came out, and I'm completely hooked— Tyra Banks is off her rocker, and the whole thing is just hilarious. Before now, they had a "you must be this tall to ride" policy. For the 13th cycle, though, they're doing an entire season of short models— and only girls who are SHORTER than 5' 7'' can apply.

Pros: I am 5'2'' and weigh about 96 lbs (well, usually something between 94 and 98, depending on how many pancakes I had that day!) without being at all anorexic or unhealthy. I also have large eyes, a nice jaw line, swooshy hair, and a very young, deer-in-the-headlights look, which I gather is in for fashion models. Plus, in every season they usually have a "smart girl" (like Claire and Victoria) and/or an "awkward girl" (like Shandi and Heather), and I fit both of those categories! And I bet they'd kill to have an OCD sufferer to mess with in that house.

Also, I really do have a mild interest in fashion from an artistic perspective. I enjoy both photography and flipping through Elle in the drugstore, so I'm reasonably fashion-literate, and I even know a little bit about a couple designers.

Cons: Uh, I don't actually want to be a model for real, and I don't want to spend weeks and weeks flying all over creation and walking down red carpets. The only reason I'd want to be rich and famous would be so that I'd have more time to spend with Adam, and that wouldn't happen if 'd have to be away from him for months shooting a stupid TV series.

Plus, who wants to be in a situation wherein everyone in America is paying close attention to his or her weight, skin, clothes, and hairstyle? Doesn't sound like a lot of fun.

And I don't even wear makeup. Or do my hair. Or wear clothes that weren't bought at the Salvation Army. That might count against me.

So I can't decide if I really want to have an adventure like this, or if I'm just bored and eager to do something at which, unlike administrative assisting, I'd actually do WELL. Thoughts?

[Note: no matter what I decide, I am still totally having an awesome photo shoot with all my model-esque clothes and putting the pictures up here. :P]

Three Things Not To Do In Front Of Your S.O.

I was pretty deeply annoyed by this MSN article, entitled Gross Couple Habits To Avoid, Starting Now. The article insists that burping, farting, popping pimples, and using the bathroom should all be done out of sight and earshot of your significant other, the idea being that this will "keep the attraction burning in your relationship."

Uh, what?

The article urges couples to "think of it this way: You didn't dare leave the door ajar when you were first dating, so why would you let all hell break loose once you're married?" Well, I thought, that doesn't make any sense at all; when you're first dating someone, you're not close enough to them to share all your dirty secrets and bad habits, but once you're, I dunno, MARRIED, why wouldn't you be comfortable enough around one another to be at home in your own home?

I don't think Adam is less "kissable" when he burps, and he's not grossed out when I pop my zits while standing in front of the bathroom mirror. Know why? BECAUSE WE'RE NOT FIFTEEN YEARS OLD. Real grown-ups aren't bothered by the fact that our bodies sometimes smell or make noises. Real grown-ups aren't affronted by the fact that their partner sometimes pees.

So I made my own list: Three Things Not To Do In Front Of Your Significant Other. My list is less focused on bodily functions and more focused on feelings, but, y'know, that's how I roll.

And of course, they don't all apply to everyone, because nothing does. Every relationship is different, so sometimes things work differently with some couples than they do with others.

Three Things Not To Do In Front Of Your Significant Other

1. Become needlessly aggressive.

We've all been there: you're standing in line at the supermarket when some lady (who is talking loudly on her cell phone, sheparding seven badly-behaved kids around, and snapping her gum obnoxiously, all at the same time) cuts ahead of you in line without even asking. You say, "Hey, you cut in front of me." The lady turns around and goes, "Yeah, well, I got kids, so shut up." You shoot back, "Well, having unprotected sex at age sixteen doesn't give you the right to cut in line, bitch!" and before you know it, you're throwing Milky Way Bars and copies of the Weekly World News at one another.

It's satisfying to tell people what you think of them, even if they're not people you actually know. But doing this while you're with someone else (and not just your S.O.— it could be your mom, or your brother, or your best friend) isn't fair to the other person. Unless you've talked it out ("This lady is really annoying me...I just wish I could tell her where to shove her pack of Pampers!" "Me, too...why don't you let her have it?"), your actions and words could bring the other person into an argument that they didn't choose to begin. You're making the decision to make a scene for yourself AND for your S.O., and that's not cool, since your S.O. could be someone who hates confrontation.

So the next time that babylady cuts in front of you while you're standing in line with your S.O., content yourself with mumbling to your partner about how inconsiderate that lady is being. Then you can talk about it when you leave the market— but you won't be forcing your partner into a fight that he or she didn't want to start.

2. Make fun of your S.O.'s family or friends.

I'm fortunate enough to have in-laws whom I LOVE, and I approve of almost all of my husband's friends. However, some people aren't so lucky, and practically everyone I know has a problem with their husband or wife's mother, father, cousin, brother, sister, friend, or Labrador Retriever.

And that's normal. You didn't marry or begin dating your partner because you wanted to hang out with their friends and family members, right? Families are all different, and chances are you'll find something weird or annoying about your husband's family at some point in time.

But I wouldn't recommend dissing them in front of your S.O. Here's why: remember, even though you may be no relation to these people (or related only by marriage, if you're married), that's your husband's or wife's loved ones you're talking about. That's his mom you're dissing, a mom who raised him and was there for him, who tucked him in at night when he was little. That's her friend you're dissing, the one who took care of her that night she was too drunk to stand, the one who she swears is like the sister she never had.

Think about how you'd feel if your S.O. started ragging on your parents or friends. Even if they had a valid point, part of you might be a little defensive, might feel a sense of "But you don't know him/her like I do."

I'm not saying you shouldn't be honest with your S.O. about serious problems that come up with his/her family or friends. If his mom belittles you, his uncle constantly hits on you, or his friend keeps making fun of your clothes to your face, you should talk about it— you don't have to take any harmful behavior like that, and your S.O. should know if his friends or family members are hurting you.

But I AM saying that maybe statements like "God, my mother-in-law is so loud when she chews her food— it's gross!" or "That hat that Devon wore to the party last night was so ugly...I can't believe Adam is friends with him!" might be better left unsaid— or at least, you might want to save it for your journal or for lunch with a trusted friend.

3. Reminisce about old times and old flames— obsessively.

Now, I'm not saying that you shouldn't feel at all comfortable talking about your past relationships with your S.O. In fact, your S.O. should be able to deal with the fact that you've have other people in your life before you met him/her, and if he/she can't do that without getting jealous, we have a problem. After all, those things happened in the past, and your partner needs to be secure enough in your relationship that he/she doesn't feel threatened by those past lovers.

But I know some people who spend HOURS talking about old boyfriends or girlfriends WITH THEIR NEW PARTNERS. They rehash a particular relationship, going over the pros and cons and wondering what went wrong, all the while relating this story to the person they're currently with.

Talking about past relationships can be fun if the other person is up for it. I personally love to get Adam drunk and ask him about his past conquests— it's an epic tale, full of mishap and adventure. I also don't mind discussing previous relationships of my own from time to time— it's nice to remind myself of how much better I've done than some of my old boyfriends.

But I don't talk about these sorts of things all the time, and here's why: Adam doesn't know those guys, so why would he be interested in them as a constant topic of conversation?

Obviously, most people don't do this sort of thing, but I've known a few who do, and I think it's kind of inconsiderate to do it frequently in front of the person's you're dating right now.

To watch, or not to watch?

(Warning: excessive use of parenthetical ranting follows.)

As I love low-budget films and have no qualms about watching films that were panned by the critics (who doesn't like a good two hours of David Bowie in spandex?), I'm waffling as to whether or not I want to make an effort to watch Fireproof. From what I've read, the acting is awful and the plot is absurd, so it seems like it would make for an entertaining evening. However, as a Christian, I also get really really really offended by a lot of evangelical interpretations of Christian duty, and it sounds like this film is basically propaganda for the right-wing evangelical agenda, which means I might spend a lot of time shouting myself hoarse at the screen.

Here's some background: Fireproof is an indie film based around The Love Dare, a book written by the same people who filmed the aforementioned movie. Alex and Stephen Kendrick wrote the book to try and stop what they saw as an epidemic of failing marriages, and then they made a movie about a guy who reads their book, which seems to me to reek of the biblical sin of pride, but whatever.

In the film, a firefighter guy (played, hilariously enough, by Kirk Cameron! See why I think this movie would be funny?) agrees to a divorce from his wife, mostly because, according to the synopses I've read online, he's a humungous jerk with an anger management problem and an addiction to porn (which seems to be a favorite topic of evangelicals recently; cf. The XXX Church). His father tells the guy that instead of seeking a divorce (or, as most of the film reviews suggest, some serious psychological help to tame those anger issues), he should just accept Jesus as his savior, and oh, by the way, try reading this book that the creators of this movie wrote a little while ago! (Talk about synergy...this movie is the ultimate product placement piece, eh?)

Apparently the book features Scripture (I'm down with that), advice (not sure what expertise these guys have that would make me want to listen to them, but sure, sounds good), a daily "dare" (like "bring your wife flowers", which wouldn't go over well in our house— Adam and I refer to flowers as the "gift of death," since you're basically giving someone a living thing that has been cut out of the ground and is slowly dying in that vase on the table), and an area for...journaling? Okay, now you've lost me. Why wouldn't you just get a LiveJournal? It's free. Then you wouldn't have to buy the book.

You can read the first and second chapters of the book for free, and it all seems very sweet and harmless, but it also seems like stuff that anyone who married for the right reasons should already know. If you don't know that marriage requires patience and compassion and kindness, what exactly did you think it involved?

Anyways, so this guy takes the book and reads it, and somehow it makes him become a Christian (which, even as a fellow Christian, I don't think is absolutely necessary to the happiness of a marriage, but we'll let that slide for now, as we seem to be working within a whole new world of logic here) and a better husband, although I think it sounds like long-term therapy should still be a major priority for this guy.

So I'm sure you can see how this could be an enjoyable film, but also how I might start turning red in the face while watching this movie. I mean, as a happily married person, I'm all for saving marriages, but I hate when people act as though the problem with society today is that people just don't put enough work into the marriages themselves, rather than the fact that people get married for the wrong reasons. People get married before they truly know the person they're with, because marriage has been romanticized extensively in our society— and this is an area where media and churches have an equal share in the blame, because it's not just TV telling people that marriage is honorable and wonderful and the ultimate expression of love. Maybe if we stopped focusing on marriage as the pinnacle of human emotion (read: maybe if we stopped making it sound as though sex is the best thing ever and sex is only obtainable through marriage) people wouldn't be so obsessed with marrying before they've found the right person.

I mean, the two chapters above make it sound as though patience and kindness can make any two people happily married, and that's not true. Marriage is an incredibly fine balancing act, and if you're not right for each other (or for the very nature of marriage— some people just aren't happy in any marriage situation), then you won't be successful in your marriage, with or without all the stellar qualities previously mentioned. Kindness and patience aren't going to keep an abusive husband from hitting you, and they're not going to make you sexually attracted to the girl you waited to sleep with until after the wedding, and which point you discovered you weren't really attracted to her physical characteristics at all. It's not going to change your husband's view that you should quit your job and pop out a couple of kids even though you don't want to be a mother, and it's not going to make your wife stop racking up credit card debt even though she's already in over her head.

Some marriage problems can be fixed with kindness and understanding, but some need therapy, and some need rehab, and some can't ever be fixed at all. And pretending as though fixing a marriage is as simple as gathering the pieces up and sticking them together with a little bit of Biblical Crazy Glue is really kind of pathetic, especially for the people who discover, too late, that some of the pieces are missing and the whole thing will never, ever fit together right. And especially if those people try and force the pieces together out of a sense of shame or duty or societal obligation.

So, as you can see, I'm really in quite a pickle here. Should I try the film out of curiosity and see if I'm at least mildly entertained? I mean, this could be the best thing since Reefer Madness in terms of unintentional humor. But I run the risk of getting really mad and spending the evening lecturing a pretend evangelical minister on the error of his ways while my cats stare at me in wide-eyed confusion and my husband brings me tea and tries to get me to lie down and breathe. It's not available on Netflix's Instant Watch collection, and I don't want to waste any actual DVD mail deliveries on this thing if it's just going to ruin my night.

What would you do? Have you seen this film, or do you know anyone who has? If so, can you tell me whether or not I'd enjoy it, either for genuine reasons or because it's hilariously bad?

A Very Serious Question

So I have a question to ask the girls out there in cyberspace— and any medical professionals who might be hanging about. I'd ask my gyno, except that Adam and I BOTH need major oral surgery this month, and our insurance is kind of crappy and won't pay for all of it, so I don't really want to spring for the extra money for a trip to the gyno just to ask her a question I could have asked over the phone. And I can't just call on the phone because I don't really HAVE a gyno in Youngstown yet, and I can't just call up a random one and ask her to give me some free advice.

So.

I'm on birth control pills, as previously discussed in my anti-baby post. I was always told by my doctor at Vassar that you shouldn't, like, stop being on the pills and then go back to being on them, because that would mess with your hormones. She always said it was better just to stay on them, no matter what.

But then I was talking to my friend Margarita when she came in for the wedding, and she said that HER doctor told her that, after she's been taking the pills for a year or so, she should quit for a month or two so that the hormones can get flushed out of her system. She said that it prevents things like blood clots and a lowered sex drive and whatnot. I've never experienced either of those things, but I've been on the pill for three years now, without taking a break. And then Margarita told me that our friend Gaya's doctor told her the SAME THING.

So does anyone know if this is true or not? The first of my two written prescriptions runs out next month, so I was thinking about taking a break for a few months before I fill the next one. But I don't want to upset my already delicate hormones, if my old doctor was telling the truth.

I can't seem to find a lot of info about this online— it's all just FAQs involving how many pills you can miss and not get pregnant, what you should do if you miss a pill, what the side effects are, etc. I can't really find anyone to answer my question. Does anyone have any advice for a poor, gyno-less girl?

Church Pics!

I've stolen pictures of my church, St. John's Episcopal of Youngstown, from the St. John's Facebook group, so that everyone can see the beautiful place where we're getting married! (Don't worry— I don't think the group's moderator, the wonderful Rev. Jeremiah, will mind that I'm borrowing the images.)

Jeremiah also published the banns of marriage for our wedding on the St. John's Facebook group today! The banns are a traditional Anglo-Catholic ritual in which a priest or minister publicly asks the church community if there is any reason why two engaged people should not be married. They do this for the three previous Sundays before the wedding. Our banns will be read aloud at church this Sunday, next Sunday, and the following Sunday. Hopefully no one will stand up and object to the union! :)

I know it seems a little out of character for such a hip, young, modern girl like me to have her banns read. But really, I hate so many modern wedding trends (vulgar excess, credit-swelling expenses, the snubbing of guests and family members in order for the bride to "be a princess") that it feels nice to get back to a more modest, sensible approach to a wedding. Also, my parents had their banns read when they got married, and I'm fiercely proud of my family's wedding traditions (not changing one's name, having an alternative reception) and I want to incorporate my family's customs into my own ceremony!

Concern.

So I've spent the past two days working, and I won't be able to see Adam for more than half a day this next week because of both of our work schedules. He works Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday; I work Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I actually work tomorrow (Monday) too, but Adam is gong to pick me up afterwards and we're going to spend some time together in the evening.

But this whole thing makes me worry: what if we never see each other anymore because we're both working all the time? Once I get my license, I'll be working my real, 40-hours-a-week job, and Adam will still be working his more-than-40-hours-a-week job AND going to school full-time. What if we never get to see each other? What if all I ever see of Adam is a quick kiss on the cheek in the morning and a tired smile at night?

I turned down Northwestern because I didn't want to be away from him, ever. What if I end up being away from him even when I'm living with him?

That's a really scary thought.

Oh, and forgive any spelling or grammar errors here, as well as any simply bad writing. I just worked ten and a half hours straight.

Please Help!

So Adam and I are registered at Target and Wal-Mart, but apparently most of the stuff we listed on our Wal-Mart registry isn't available at our local Wal-Mart, and apparently this is a problem. We therefore need to add more stuff to the Wal-Mart registry, but I really have no clue what else to put on.

So: anyone want to point out something I might be missing out on? Take a look at the Wal-Mart one, and for comparison, see the Target one (you might need to go to "Club Wedd" and search "Philosophy Walker" to find the Target one.)

Please help me out!

Whoa.

I've been posting a lot in this section lately, eh?

My latest wedding rant has to do with the creepier marriage "traditions" out there, and how disturbing it is that people think they're irreplaceable. One of the forums today on that infernal site The Knot (it's like wedding crack! I can't stop!) dealt with the bridal escort tradition, and while I was pleasantly surprised to see how many women intended to be walked down the aisle by both parents, I was also disturbed by how many wanted to include both but feared angering or upsetting their fathers by asking to do it this way. Why in God's name would your father be offended by being asked to share you with your MOTHER? That makes no sense to me, but apparently some fathers feel like this would somehow be a snub. Hrm. Interesting, that some husbands would be offended by the inclusion of their WIVES into a FAMILY event. I'll be sure to make a note not to marry any of those men.

I'm also surprised by how many women have been dreaming about their wedding day for YEARS, even before they started dating (or even met) their fiances. It seems creepy to me, to plan out this whole day in your life so meticulously, and with such an attempt to conform, not necessarily with tradition, but with chic wedding trends. So many people seem to want a unity candle or a strapless dress or a dove release just because they're fashionable things to have at a wedding, not because they fit the couple's style.

Also creepy is the way people insist on having all their bridesmaids look like clones. I mean, don't you think people look the most beautiful when they're in dresses they love, in colors and cuts that suits them, and feeling comfortable in their own skin? You can't choose a dress that will equally great on ALL of your bridesmaids, so why bother making them match at all? Why not just let them wear what they like? It's kind of freaky that some people need that kind of control.

And I suffer from Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, so I know a little something about control. :)

When "Thrifty" Means "Less Than $50,000"

As I delve deeper and deeper into wedding planning -- checking out dresses online, drawing up guest lists, thinking about just where we're going to put everyone who comes in from out-of-town -- I discover more and more about the wedding industry, mostly via wedding sites/blogs/books/magazines. And the more I learn about the wedding industry, the easier it is to forget there's a recession on.

Check out this article from MSNBC.com about how the recession has apparently affected brides-to-be and their wedding dreams. The article claims that brides are cutting back this year, trying to temper their enthusiasm for fairy tale trappings with the reality of their shrinking budgets and uncertain economic futures. But...well, it seems to me like the article's only real example of this is that some brides seem to be buying gowns secondhand or from bargain basements, which, to be honest, I would have done even if the economy was booming. Its stupid to spend a bazillion dollars on a dress I'll never wear again in my life. But I have yet to see any truth to the theory that brides are even making an effort to be low-key and classy about their weddings.

I mean, according to the above article:

"Wedding trend tracker The Wedding Report Inc. estimates the average cost of a wedding will dip slightly this year to $28,704, compared with $28,732 in 2007."

A difference of $28! Oh goodness! What restraint! :) Does that really seem to you to indicate any sort of real change in the way people are approaching their wedding plans?

Just look at The Knot on any given day to see how over-the-top most weddings are-- from a forum post praising Jenna Bush for her "tasteful" (and $100,000) wedding, to this helpful article, which tries very hard to explain to me why I should make my guests fly to Aruba to see me get married as opposed to sending them on a 15-minute drive to St. John's in Youngstown.

The long and short of it is: I don't see much evidence that people are really, truly trying to work within their means. I see waste and decadence, and not much else, which is pretty sad when our country is headed towards what looks like a depression.

Meeting With John, Session 1

So first off, this makes me sick.

Secondly, Adam and I had our first session with John, the rector of our Episcopal Church where we'll be married. We set a time for the wedding (noon) and then proceeded to talk a lot about our feelings. Well, I talked a lot about my feelings, because 1) John knows a lot about Adam's feelings from his discernment process, and 2) I tend to talk a lot anyways.

It was all right-- John basically said that he thinks we're doing a very good thing, but it's going to take a lot of work, especially as we might change as people over the next five years or so. It was nothing new, and nothing we hadn't talked about before, so really it was fine. And Adam said some very nice things about me and how much he loves me-- so much I actually cried, in fact.

It was very sweet and nice, all in all, although it was awkward when I had to talk about my relationship with my sisters, because we don't always get on very well.

We're having another meeting on July 2nd, this time to go over the marriage service and talk about our vows and stuff. John was enormously relieved that we want a traditional Episcopal service, and we're not doing anything sentimental and lame like writing our own mushy vows or lighting a unity candle or anything. So basically we'll just go over what the service means, and what prayers we'll use, and what have you.

So now I've got to go send off the engagement announcements, and then Adam and I have got to do some stuff in preparation for moving into the new apartment-- which will happen tomorrow! Yay!