Love & Marriage

So, it dawned on me a few weeks ago that Brian and I are hitting our 7 year mark next month. Seven. Years. Of pretending to think the other one is funny, of cooking each other dinner, of whispering in the dark, swaying in unison at concerts, eating ice cream, going to the beach. It’s a long fucking time, is what I’m telling you.

I’m not sure how we’re going to celebrate the occasion, but I would like it to be some kind of doozy. Celebrating 7 years is one thing, celebrating 7 years at age 24 after moving 3,000 miles away from anything resembling familiarity is another thing entirely. I feel like we have that extra little bit to celebrate, the whole Giant Life Change, Suffering Through Unemployment, Emerging Triumphant. Also we adopted a cat (have I mentioned her on this blog? Yes? I have? Isn’t she CUTE?!) since the last time we officially celebrated our relationship, and B remarked that having her has tangibly improved our relationship over the last 9 or so months.

As we grow older, both visibly and invisibly, the inevitable marriage question comes up more and more frequently, both between us on a quiet-discussion level, and our family and friends in an italicized when’s it gonna happen, guys? way. I think my anticipation of this Great Life Event has waned significantly since more people I know started getting married. It’s expensive. It’s a hassle. It’s one day. I keep seeing all these people I know fall head over heels and get married, only to constantly update their Facebook statuses about how expensive it is to get married, and how stressful it is to have to work two jobs to afford the wedding, then have to turn around and plan it, and oh yeah, we’re buying a house too, and all the papers we’re signing! And I say that without a whiff of judgement- and with much congratulations, because seriously? Your shit is together. Mine is not.

Planning a surprise 50th birthday party for my dad and 60 of his friends and family members just about gave me a stroke, and I wasn’t paying for it, nor was I engaging in a complicated financial and legal property transaction at the same time. It seems totally wacky to me to even attempt all that stuff at once, because I know I would snap. Also? I like renting- the washing machine breaks, someone else pays to fix it. That sort of thing. I don’t really want a yard or a garage or anything- walk-in closets are totally satisfying me right now. Although, I could use more plugs.

I only remark on this because I hadn’t realized how susceptible I am to peer pressure. Not even pressure, just like, oh everyone else is doing it. For ages, I’d been wanting a Kitchen Aid mixer so that I could expand and increase my baking prowess. They’re pretty pricey, so I figured I’d wait until I got engaged to get one as a shower gift. When we moved, I started experimenting with bread dough, making my own pizza crusts and whatnot, which is really hard to do without a mixer/bread hook. The frequency with which I bake (not to mention the volume) and adding this new little recipe into my repertoire made my getting one essential to my survival. Not really, but I really wanted one. So I kind of started to secretly resent Brian, because dude? SEVEN YEARS. Get on with it already so I can get my mixer and whatnot.

Ultimately, I discovered that Kitchen Aids are plentiful on craigslist, and Brian promised me that when I got a job, I could get one. And I realized the hard part of getting married is finding someone you want to spend your life with, and once you’ve decided on that, what’s the rush? It’s not like I haven’t sunk my claws in already- and vice versa. So I think I’m back to biding my time, relishing in the moments of my day that would otherwise be given up to planning a wedding. Although, my new office is across the street from an entire block of bridal supply stores- dresses, jewelry and other accoutrement- so we’ll see how long this lasts.