reflections on a married life

The title of this post seems to promise more than reflections on, um, three whole weeks of marriage, but hey, it's been a while since I've posted, in part because I've been just too damn lazy. I've had funny stories to share, but I've not felt like writing them up. Maybe married life has given me permission to be lazier? Or, you could say that married life has somehow helped me learn how to relax in ways I hadn't been able to before. I don't really know if either of these is true. I just know that I feel like I have to say something about not having posted for three weeks.

The wedding day itself was really a lot of fun. We did it just the way we wanted to, with the exception of the creepy minister. See, we got married at a little chapel up in Bloomingdale, IL. The chapel is owned by a retired judge, and we had a choice between him and the minister. S. wanted the minister. I didn't really care, as long as he didn't mention too much about god. Then it turns out that the minister is something of a creepy character, according to the woman at the county clerk's office. So we decided that we wanted the judge to marry us. When we met the judge to see the chapel a week before the wedding, he told us of course he'd marry us--he'd have to since the minister was in the hospital. (Me: Is he gonna be okay? Judge: He's never been okay.) But when we showed up on November 8, there was the minister all dressed in black and the judge in street clothes and a two-inch hair hanging from his nose. The minister married us. He tried to make jokes a couple times, which flopped, but thankfully it was a very brief ceremony.

We had 7 guests, each of whom had agreed beforehand not to dress up as though they were going to a wedding. Heh. After the ceremony we went to a steakhouse for dinner and much wine and champagne. Then back to the hotel most of us were staying at, where we spent time in the two bars, one shaped like a big ol' volcanic rock and called, appropriately enough, The Cave, and the other more of a nightclub. We really had a lot of fun that night, and I have to say I'm glad that part's over so we can move on to planning the two celebratory parties--one here in May and the other in North Carolina in June.

People keep asking if it feels any different to be married. Um, not really. Except when I want something from S., I say, "Hus-band! Can you get me another diet coke?" And the other night when I was spending way too much time and energy getting our dinner ready and he was supposed to be helping but he was stuck in here on the computer, I called to him, "Honey! I'm starting to feel like a wife." He comes out of the office to help and says, "I'm sorry." Now that's a good catch.