The "M" Word

“So, about that getting married idea…”
-Keith

Spring break was fairly eventful. I got mad at one of the owners at the bar, had some time to sleep in and be a bum, and I got engaged. Keith and I have talked about getting married for a while, mostly trying to figure when would be a good time and a little bit of me saying, “No, I don’t want to just live with you.” I’ve had it in my mind for a long time that we’d end up tying the proverbial knot, but it’s always been a “someday” kind of idea. Now it’s a “end of September” idea. I’ve mostly adjusted, but it’s still a strange thought. Before the year is over, I’ll be a Mrs.

Here’s the plan: Toward the end of June, after Keith graduates, he’ll move in with me. At the end of September/beginning of October, we’ll go to the courthouse, sign the papers, then go to my folks’ house for a BBQ. No ceremony, no wedding dress, just a party. While that’s all figured out, things that aren’t include whether I’m going to do the hyphenation thing with my name, where Keith’s damn iguana is going to go, and who’s getting invited to the party. It’s okay, though, there’s still time.

Here’s the sad part. When I told my parents the news, their reaction was to be a bit surprised, but supportive. When he told his parents the news, their reaction was to ask how I’d be able to stand him. That’s no joke. Their questions were along the lines of, “but how will she put up with you going out with your friends all the time? How will she like you sleeping in so late?” Come on, I’ve known him for almost nine years, I’ve dated him for the past three and a half of those, and if his habits drove me nuts, I’d have been gone long ago. I’m hoping they’ll come around, or at least stop giving him grief about it. Here’s hoping.

In the meantime, I’ve been having marriage chats with my mom about things like handling money, adjusting to living with another person, etc. Also, I called my brother the other night and ended up waking him up to tell him the news. He was a bit asleep at the time, so he had to call me back the next day and say, “About that. Congratulations.”

The most strange part is that I’m somehow very reluctant to tell the people I know. I’m not exactly sure why, except that it seems too personal, like telling people I’m going to the gynecologist or something. Nothing wrong with it, but they don’t need to know. Ah well, I’ll get around to it.