Being in Love with Love

Only... I'm not. In love with love, that is. Love is infuriating, and maddening, and totally insane. It makes one do things that in any other situation one would avoid. It causes a total breakdown of "life as we know it." It robs one of independence. It takes no interest in things like reason and logic. Like any good adversary, love is sneaky. It finds the weakest points in any fiercely independent woman's armor, and sits, waiting for the right time to strike. And when it does, it catches her completely off guard. Suddenly, she is standing in the shower, or having a slice of 'za, or falling asleep, and those words just fall out of her mouth before she can stop them, and there it is -- Love -- sitting there, all mushy and awkward, putting a puddle of sentimentality between this formerly solitary individual and the rest of the world. Dammit.

Those words come out, and, since they are now out in the universe, must be assessed. Enter the miles and months-long questionaire: Is this guy fun to be around? Does he get along with my family? How about my friends? Do we get along when we are alone? Does he make me want to rip out my hair? Does he make me want to rip off his clothes? Is he willing to watch the kind of movies I like, or at least leave me alone long enough to watch them? Do I like him? ...and on it goes. Of, course, it would be better to have done all of this assessment BEFORE those fateful words slipped out, but sometimes, since love is a sneaky little bastard, we haven't got around to it yet. Usually, no matter how one loves another, there is a fatal flaw; Perhaps the wrong answer to one of the questions listed above, or sometimes just a dawning realization that this is not the guy with whom you want to spend forever. Then comes the inevitable break-up, and sometimes the break-down that tags along.

Love is much like the lottery: it's a tax on people who can't do math. A vast majority of the time, the person with whom one falls in love is the wrong person, it's the wrong time, or there is some other insuperable barrier to the relationship working. But, very, very occasionally, the person with whom one falls in love is the right person, in the right time, and with just the right circumstances.

Being a creature of reason, it floors me to realize that I may have beaten the statistical odds and actually found "Mr. Right."
 
I have been with  "Mr. Appropriate," "Mr. Super-duper,"and "Mr. If-only-it-were-another-time," each of whom is wonderful in his own right, and some of whom are still dear friends to me. But, to have found the person who compliments me right now, in all ways, is astounding. It makes love--the ultimate impracticality--practical, logical, and perfectly reasonable. Woo-hoo! Go me!

................. I guess that's why I'm getting married .................

The time has come...

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."


Nearly every day since Favourite Person popped the question, I have had this bit of poetry run through my mind. There are so many things that must be considered, discussed, and decided. I am a person who is generally capable of juggling tasks, and keeping things organized when necessary, and yet, I am daunted by the idea of throwing a wedding. I have attempted to think of it as just an overgrown party, but what party requires two fully prepared venues within a couple hours? So, then I pull out my stage manager hat, and attempt to view it as a giant theatrical production. But the stage manager gets to farm out most of the visual decision-making, and just get down to the making it happen, and a bride seems not to get that luxury. So, I have decided just to put on my big-girl panties and dig in, intimidation be damned.

FP thinks that because I never thought I'd get married, and so didn't have a "dream wedding" in mind, that it should be relatively simple to put an event together. I argue that because I haven't had a "dream wedding" in mind, I am starting from scratch, and that takes much more effort. Perhaps it is a boy-girl perception issue. I think that FP hears "I didn't have planned" as "I don't really care" which, of course, couldn't be farther from the truth. Since we are getting married, and elopement is off the table, I now plan to have a delightful, fun, and beautiful day to show off to my nearest and dearest. I just have to figure out how to make that happen.

Contrary to what seems like the norm, I am trying to incorporate as many of Favourite Person's ideas as possible. It is his day at least as much as mine, and maybe more, since he's been thinking about it longer. Because I don't have a picture already set in my head, when he throws out an idea, however unusual or crazy it may seem, it fills in some of the gaps. The image that is shaping up is turning out to be equal parts him and me, and since a wedding is supposed to be a ceremony of joining two people into one life, that seems appropriate.

The Unanticipated Bride

I never thought I'd get married. There, I said it. I never thought I'd get married. Not because I thought no one would want me, my self esteem is nowhere near that low, but rather, because I really don't understand marriage as a concept. My parents are happily married, and my grandparents were, as far as I know, happily married. All my sisters and my brother have been married at least once, most of my friends are married, but as an idea, I just don't get it.

It's like electricity. I can diagram how the circuit is completed, I can install a light fixture, I can even explain it to someone who doesn't understand it, but every time I flip a switch, it's still like magic. I understand it, but I just don't get it. Marriage is like that. I can explain what it is, but not why, not how, not the reason behind it. Like electricity, marriage is a beautiful thing when it works, and causes fiery destruction when it does not. Unlike electricity, though, I haven't figured out the practicality of getting hitched.

Practicality. Reason. Logic. None of these words applies to tying the knot. Sure, I suppose for some people it's a way to get a tax break, or a green card, or some health insurance. Generally, these are not the explanations people give, but these are reasons I understand. These are paper and pencil, pro and con list-able reasons. I get that. Getting married because one is in love I don't get. Can't one be in love without the ring and the vow? Sure. Of course. I am. Deeply, desperately, beautifully in love. And I am cool with that. I am devoted. I am committed. Being in it is logical, reasonable, and practical, all without the ring and the vow.

I never thought I'd get married. I don't understand marriage as a concept. I am already wonderfully happy in the relationship I have. But when my Favourite Person in the whole wide world said that he wanted to marry me,  I didn't think about it. I didn't reason it out, I made no pro-con lists. I said "Alright." Now I have to go about the task of figuring out what it means to be married, how to get through the actual wedding part, and what happens after that.

I am the unanticipated bride.

Here we go...