I Don’t: Matrimonial Musings

Today, I muse about a surpising topic for me, the proverbial walk down the aisle. Go ahead, grab a cloth and dry your moist, sweaty palms. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’ve abandoned my visceral hatred of those 500-pound bridal mags. Pictures of women with frosty hair, fake nails, poufy dresses, sequined tiaras and Jon Benet-like flower girls still make me 1918 flu epidemic ill. Ok, I confess to liking Tiaras, but only ones made of REAL metal and sparkly, encrusted stones.:razz:

But lately, I can’t seem to escape people who are herding themselves like stampeding buffalos to the altar. This despite complex just-in-case fleeing plans to hide out in the tropical aisles and grooms I know having phone sex with someone other than their intended DAYS before the nupituals. I digress.

Airfare to my close friends’ nupituals alone would be enough to buy that plasma TV I know someone REALLY wants. 😉 Everywhere I turn, my loved ones are stealth domestic planning: picking out new homes, just the “right” bath fixtures, and yes, yard SOD with their significant other. And alarmingly, most of these suburban gruesome twosomes have known each other for less time than those beloved Queer Eye for the Straight Guys have been on air. The potential brides-to-be obsess about co-habitating with Mr. Newbie and spend their days searching on jewlery websites building the perfect engagement ring. I ask, is the rickety economy and our jitter-filled post 9/11 world driving people to quick companionship at any cost? Has the anti-feminist backlash swung back a bitchslap too far?

Whatever happened to old-fashioned courtship where you went to the drive-in, smooched, and got cute little candy hearts for a few years before talk of getting hitched surfaced? Our world is so go, go, achieve, acheive that people have little room to just take a deep breath and savor the romantic moment they are in without bringing the question of calla lillies versus rose bud bridesmaids bouquets into play. You’d think what with all the matrimonial tafetta-buying and Pottery Barn gift registries being created that there was a war going on and men were tangibly feeling their moratality clock ever-quickening. Oh wait there is and they are. 😕

Don’t get me wrong, if someone I love has found Mr. Right, I say bravo! But I must question, what’s the rush to make it official? If the feeling is so real, have faith that love will flourish and grow richer with the years and your shared experiences. Once the march to the altar is through, you want to be left with something real between you and your beloved; a house of mutual interest not based on wedding invite fonts and placecard paper stock.

I’m not opposed to perhaps one day tying the knot, albeit without crowds or fanfare. Marriage is a serious and sacred covenant between two people and in life I’ve learned that anything is possible and surprises are a given. For now though, I am lucky enough to share a vibrant relationship with someone who I can feverishly debate the issues of the world with over the heart shaped waffles I have cooked up and make fabulous, passionate love after the heated rhetoric froths over. We don’t need a discussion of crab grass, linoleum tile laying or stone cuts to keep our twosome fresh and alive. And that’s just the way I like it.

Signed, That Little Red Headed Girl

Comments

  1. nosilver
    August 10th, 2004 | 2:47 pm

    So, um… does that mean that I get no Plasma? 🙂

  2. MaggieK
    October 30th, 2004 | 5:31 pm

    Passionate Pippi – you know I agree wholeheartedly with everything you said. The wedding industry has made a sham of the sacred and deeply religous covenent of marriage. Yet, timing means little in the cosmic sized scheme of things, especially when we are about to be slapped in the face with how fragile our mortality is half way around the world in a sandy land far far away. As an encouragement to the other two readers of this site (which has become a complete non-sequitor in my life) when you know, you know. From a girl who was completely jaded to one who became a gooey romantic.

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