On Saturday morning, Patrick and I were enjoying some delicious breakfast tacos when I got the greatest e-mail of my life from Susan, my person of honor at our wedding: in the next week, we should be watching the mail for the trampoline the wedding party bought us.
Yeah, you read that right: the trampoline the wedding party bought us! Tramp! O! Line!
I could hardly contain my excitement. I read and re-read the email over and over again. I envisioned the giant trampoline in our backyard, and the afternoons we’d spend sunning and jumping on it, and how our backyard parties were about to get approximately a million percent more fun, and how oh my God, we are going to have a trampoline!
Because of course we put a trampoline on our wedding registry. Why not put a trampoline on your wedding registry, if you have the choice between not putting a trampoline on your wedding registry and putting a trampoline on your wedding registry? Keep reading »
The State of Texas, beautiful and God-blessed land led by the white conservative men Jesus always intended it to be led by, rewards people who go to premarital counseling. The prize? You get to waive your license fee and don’t have a three-day waiting period between obtaining the license and getting married.
I discovered this fun new law while checking out marriage licenses generally, and learned that as of March 1, 2011, Texans getting married can either pay an increased fee for a license or get their asses to a counselor for an eight-hour course that will allow them to waive it.
The program is called, barfily enough, Twogether in Texas. I figured hey, if we can waive the fee and get counseling, that might be kind of cool. Of course, it’ll have to be free counseling because otherwise, there’s no money saved in waiving the fee. And we’re sure not paying a stranger hundreds of dollars to tell us we love each other and agree on major life issues like children (not for us, thanks), money (let’s make a reasonable amount of it and share it with each other) and religion (we’ll pass). Duh. That’s why we’re getting married. Keep reading »
It sure doesn’t come as surprise to me that I’m getting married in a few weeks. After all, there was much to be done after we got drunk at the lake last Labor Day Weekend and decided to get married.
Patrick and I rented a venue, sent out save the dates and invitations, built a barfy-adorable “wed-site,” argued with our parents over the guest list, told grown-ass adults what kind of clothes to wear, created wedding registries and asked guests to donate to marriage equality organizations if they liked that instead, bought tablecloths, and arranged for a colleague to officiate the ceremony. I bought a dress, shoes, some really fun underpants and got my hair colored. All signs point to: wedding.
But I don’t think I realized I was actually getting married until I went with Patrick to get a custom shirt made for his wedding outfit. Why? Because that shirt cost more than my dress. Keep reading »
As the number of couples walking down the aisle dwindles, science suggests that our generation may be missing out on marriage’s “healing powers.” A study published by the Journal of Health and Social Behavior reveals that adults who’ve tied the knot have a better survival rate after heart surgery. According to Ellen Idler, a sociologist at Emory University, married people are three times more likely than singletons to survive coronary bypass surgery during the first three months and are half as likely to die in the years following. Even if the single patients survived the first three months of recovery, they were 70 percent more likely to die during the next five years. Keep reading »
I’ve talked about my often-disastrous relationships in a number of my columns, and every time I do, I get dozens of messages from people asking me to elaborate. Not that I’m an expert — it’s more like how you see a guy come screaming out of the woods covered in bees and you ask him where he found the hive, so you can avoid it.
So, the most common question I get (besides “Will you please stop sending me pictures of your penis?”) is “How do I know if this is the one?” which I think is a stealth way of asking me, “How can I avoid the hellish divorce that haunts your memories?”
Well, if you want to avoid the bees, I say you should always keep in mind … Keep reading »
I think I just got away with telling my dad he won’t be giving me away at my wedding — and the world didn’t fall apart.
I’d been putting it off, the telling him, partly because I never know whether my dad is going to care. I know he cares a lot about high-quality French fries and Chevy sport utility vehicles that rolled off the line between 1996 and 1999 (must have tailgate and be black, red or white). But the emotional stuff is a total gamble.
There was the time he tried to keep one of my high school boyfriends from using our upstairs bathroom because “he might have VD,” which I now realize was code for “Andie, you are wasting your time on this guy.” He cried when I tried on my wedding dress for him, but not when he dropped me off at college halfway across the country.
So I had no idea how he would react if I told him that I don’t want to be given away on my wedding day. Maybe he would be fine with it. Or maybe it would genuinely hurt him. But there’s not much that hurts me more than being treated like a piece of property. Keep reading »