As Chris and I near our first anniversary, I find myself thinking about the word “newlywed.” In three months, I have to say goodbye to the word that has become part of my identity for the past nine months.
To prepare, I’ve devised a list of rules for couples that are nearing the one-year anniversary mark. Note: I fully sanction you to disregard these rules until your first anniversary has passed.
After your first anniversary, thou shalt not:
- … use a wedding photo as your profile picture on Facebook. Yes, you look beautiful in your wedding pictures. But I’m guessing you also looked beautiful at least once over the past year.
- …still be writing your thank you notes. Granted, someone may have just given you a wedding gift, which means that you should respond accordingly. But if you’re still writing notes to your nearest and dearest for gifts received more than ten months ago, you’d better have a good excuse. Note: Jail is not a good excuse. Everyone knows that inmates have plenty of time to write letters.
- … still be angry with your bridesmaids or groomsmen for something they did/didn’t/could’ve/should’ve done during your wedding. They’ve already forgotten about your wedding and have moved on to something more important… the present day. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time in the future to screw up their special days too.
- … count the length of your marriage in months. There are few things more annoying than someone who says, “Our child is thirty-two and a half months.” No one should have to whip out a calculator to figure out how old your child is. Similarly, a marriage is counted in years, sometimes half years, after the first one is complete. Acceptable phraseology includes, “just over a year,” “a year this past August, ” and “a year and a half in December.”
- … be an active member of The Knot community forums. At least move on to The Nest. It’s all about progression, baby.
And the most important former newlywed commandment is…
Thou shalt not get pregnant because you feel pressured, are bored, or want to be the center of attention. I’m all for populating the Earth, but relax! Enjoy another day, month, or (gasp!) even year of marriage before you jump back into the fire.
Just like some people win the adoption lottery, other people wind up with kickass last names. Case in point, my friend Carolyn, who already has an awesome surname and is gaining an equally-fantastic last name this September. She’s decided to go the path of least resistance and take her husband’s last name, keeping her maiden name in the middle, where it will share space with her actual middle name. I would tell you all of the names, but then I might as well give you her social security number and home address. Kids, the Internets is a scary place to give out personal information. And, remember, don’t use drugs.
Carolyn is the reason for the season, namely, why half of Wedding Road Trip is traipsing through the land of ten thousand lakes: Minnesota. Last night we wined and dined at Northcoast, with Carolyn’s mother and her sister Margaret, who got married this past May in Carmel.
Words that don’t describe Margaret: quiet, reserved, boring, and expressionless.
Words that might describe Margaret: off-the-wall, animated, and endlessly entertaining.
When dealing with the whole name change thing, Margaret got creative and added her middle name (Mary) to her first name. She then moved her super-cool surname to the middle slot and took her husband’s name to finish the whole thing off. I really respect her attachment to all four names and the logical way she put it all together. When Carolyn and Margaret have kids, they are planning on using their maiden name as their sons’ first names. While our friend Colleen thinks this might confuse some people, I think it’s kinda cool for these future cousins to share something so important to both Carolyn and Margaret.
Totally not related, but worth noting: Northcoast offers blankets to guests, which they can use throughout the duration of their dining experience. If only a certain foggy city (cough, cough San Francisco) would do the same, dining in the great outdoors might be possible during the summer months.
I first met Erin and Alex about a month into dating Chris. Erin and I had insta-friend chemistry, which was awesome, considering she’s one of Chris’s favorite people. I imagined that Erin and I would spend endless time together, laughing, dancing, and skipping through the City, matching charm bracelets adorning our golden wrists.
I’ve seen Erin approximately four times over the past two years.
It’s not that I don’t want to see Erin… it’s just that life got in the way. It seemed that she was always busy buying a house, getting engaged, buying a car, starting a new job, acquiring another house, and starting a family. Writing that sentence, I suddenly feel incredibly lazy.
Erin and Alex met through mutual friends. Thanks to San Francisco’s ridiculously unreliable bus system, their first date lasted longer than planned. This is the first time that I’ve heard of someone crediting MUNI for their everlasting love, but it warms my heart to know that something good has come out of our crappy public transit organization.
Seven months after they first started dating, Erin and Alex decided to take their relationship to the next level by buying a home together. Friends were surprised by their decision, worried that Erin and Alex were moving too fast. Ignoring all of the naysayers, they pushed forward, getting engaged within the next year. This fast-track thinking makes Erin and Alex sound like Type A, check-the-box type people, but they are far from structured. Both are incredibly laid back- to the point that I want to bottle of some of their chill and sell it. But given how forward-thinking Erin is, she probably has the business plan drawn up already.
After being engaged for a short while, Erin and Alex decided to tie the knot. The wedding took place in Lake Tahoe last September, and was, according to Chris, “one of the best weddings he’s ever attended.”
Not that I would know. I was off at the USC-Ohio State game with my brothers and my parents, debating whether or not I wanted to continue my relationship with Chris. We were going through a rough patch, so attending a wedding wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time. Throughout the game, I received text messages from Chris, who was completely taken by the whole wedding experience. By the time I got home, he was a changed man, ready for commitment and a future together. So, thanks, Erin and Alex. And thank you, USC Trojans, for kicking the tar out of Ohio State- that made the moment even sweeter.
In listening to Erin and Alex talk about their relationship, I was struck by how little regard they have for the tried and true relationship timeline. They bought a house before they got engaged, yet that didn’t stop their love from progressing naturally. So often people fear that the world will punish them for breaking the status quo. Erin and Alex’s success story begs the question… if you’re not hurting anyone by choosing a different path, what’s wrong with creating your own unique destiny?
P.S. Erin and Alex are currently on the baby train, which means that their calendar actually has a week marked with the word “Sexathon.” When I heard this, I almost spit out my wine. No matter what they’re up to, Erin and Alex are always good times, good times.
P.P.S. Alex told us a very dirty joke about beef and broccoli. Because this is a PG joint, I won’t record it here- but I can be bribed- just email me.
We’ve suffered. Oh, how we’ve suffered on the Wedding Road Trip. Forced to eat great meals and to explore interesting cities. The ultimate indignity? “Having” to stop in Aspen, Colorado to see Chris and Krystal, friends of mine from grad school.
Obviously I jest, but we did have a few moments of terror on the way into town, thanks to Independence Pass. For anyone scared of roller coasters, heights, or death, I recommend skipping this route and taking the long way. I was driving, so Jaime cringed as I gingerly steered Roxy around hairpin turns and bottomless chasms, culminating in a 12,000 foot crossing of the Continental Divide. The road isn’t so much a pass as a route up and over a mountain.
We arrived in Aspen as Chris and Krystal were finishing their work days. They promptly took us and a sixer of Blue Moon out to the Maroon Bells, where we traipsed mountain meadows while their dog Rosie ran around at approximately 200 MPH. This was followed by dinner at the Woody Creek Tavern, an old Hunter S. Thompson hangout, and conversation back at their beautiful townhouse in Basalt. Yes, we liked Aspen.
One piece of marital advice from Krystal & Chris is that if all else fails, get a dog. I’m paraphrasing, but the basic gist is that a dog can provide activity, conversation, and all types of mutual experience bonding that you will not get from TV, jogging, or a hamster. The background is that on a drunken whim several years ago, Krystal adopted a stray which has become The World’s Most Awesome Dog, aka Rosie. I first met Rosie two and a half years ago and immediately threatened to dognap her, and still intend to. Inside, she sits quietly on her bed or on my feet, and is so well behaved they can take her to work where she dozes all day. Outside, Rosie takes off at cheetah-like speeds, chasing things like snowmobiles.
So, a dog can spark your relationship in interesting ways, especially if you live near the Great Outdoors and get a dog larger than a purse but smaller than a pickup truck. Sadly, Jaime and I passed on an opportunity to get a golden retriever puppy in Chicago (bad timing), but if we get tired of each other, we’ll swing by Aspen when Chris and Krystal aren’t home and pick up the solution.
It happened at a moment when I was least expecting it. Sitting here at a table in Wausau, Wisconsin working on the website as both Chris and my friend Jason sit typing away on their own computers. We were talking about relationships when Jason said to me, “you seem kind of heartless.” At first I thought he was joking, but then I realized that he was absolutely serious. When he stepped away from the table, I turned to Chris and said, “do you think I’m too hard on you?” He looked at me, shrugged and said, “that’s just your public persona. You’re not like that when we’re alone.”
And then it hit me: I’m Kate Gosselin. Well, Kate Gosselin without the TV cameras, the butch haircut and the eight kids. I put down my fiancé’s constant need for affection in public and then privately hug and kiss him as needed. I brag about how independent I am while simultaneously selling him out for being overly emotional.
I. AM. THAT. WOMAN.
Damn it.
Now I have to do something about it- I can’t claim ignorance anymore. I’m going to have to be sweet and nice or my future husband is going to have an affair with some twenty-three-year-old that he meets at a local bar. Then they’re going to go skiing in Aspen while I celebrate my 34th birthday alone.
I’d write more, but I’m going to go kiss Chris’s ass now before things get out of control.
P.S. Chris: I don’t think you’re anything like frumpy, grumpy John. I swear. And no. I don’t want eight children.
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