Scarlet Letters

If there’s something about planning a wedding that has surprised me, it’s all the rules . I knew there was a “wedding industry” that pretty much thrived on satin and tulle. For the vast majority of us, there’s only one time you get to throw an all-out formal bash with caterers and flower arrangements. Unless you’re a professional party planner or work for one of those hoity-toity companies that does this kind of thing for the holiday party, a wedding is pretty much your only shot for black tie and rose petals. The thing is, I didn’t really plan my first wedding. I was all of twenty-two, desperately trying to finish my last semester of college and find a job before I graduated so my new husband and I would not starve. Times being what they were, I succeeded, but it was not without a herculean effort. I could not finish college, find a job, plan a cross-country move and do a wedding all in eight months. So I handed it over to my mom. I figured they were paying for it, so ...

ME: I've got coupons for Denny's, Logan's, Caffe Avanti and the Olive Garden. Oh, and Cold Stone Creamery. Yum. HIM: No. ME: Sorry? HIM: We can't go to Olive Garden. ME: You don't like Olive Garden? HIM: I like it fine. But every time I've taken a woman to Olive Garden we end up breaking up. ME: *laugh* You're cursed with Olive Garden? HIM: We are not going to Olive Garden. ME: Hon, I'm marrying you. See, ring and everything. HIM: I'm not taking the chance. ME: So wait, I'm condemned to a life without Olive Garden if I marry you? I can never darken the door of Olive Garden again? This was not disclosed when you proposed. HIM: You can go to Olive Garden all you want. I can go to Olive Garden all I want. We just can't go together. ME: What about a large group that all wants to go to Olive Garden? HIM: ... We can do that. ME: What about with the kids, as if we could afford that? HIM: That's okay. But not by ourselves, like a ...

Today I got into a fight on the internet. Despite my fiance's amused grins, I swear I don't look for these things, because I don't enjoy them. I like debate, but I don't like name-calling and meanness. So generally I try to ignore stupidity on the interwebs, because it's one of the few truly unlimited resources in this world. Today an acquaintance of mine posted the "bootstrap" quote from Martin Luther King Jr.: "It is a cruel jest to say to a bootless man that he must lift himself up by his own bootstraps." There was more to it, but that's the important part. Of course, a troll appeared, and to paraphrase, he indicated that these days the poor are "wearing $500 sneakers and need to pull their pants up." Well, that's the kind of stupidity that I will ordinarily pass by. Arguing with bigots online is like trying to empty the Atlantic with a shot glass. But someone else picked up the gauntlet and the joust began, which I r...

Q: Wait, what? You ran off to Florida and got married? A: Hell no. I have too many relatives with pointy weapons for that. No, we got engaged. Jimmy knelt down in front of Cinderella Castle, said something schmoopy and had the ring on my finger before I had the chance to say yes. He said he was hedging his bets. Q: You didn't get married? What's with the hats? Veil, top hat… ears. A: The hats were a present from my dad and stepmom. Not to be confused with the real thing. Cute, aren't they? Q: So that's not a wedding band? A: No, it's a promise ring. We're going to buy a wedding set next year after we save up some money. Jimmy may be crazy enough to marry me, but he's not crazy enough to buy a wedding set before finding out what I was gonna say. Q: You did say yes, right? A: Please note the changed relationship status on Facebook. I said yes. If I'd said no, my stepmother would have shoved me into the moat. Jimmy did say he considered superg...