Next Stop: Adulthood

Well we finally got THE word on the house--and---YAY! They're going to be pouring the foundation like today (or was it yesterday?). Our builder says that even though the house is scheduled for an August finish, it may very well be completed before the wedding in June! Man, that would be nice. We could really start our "new life" like you're supposed to, you know? As in come home from the honeymoon to our nice, big new house.

Oh, yeah. So I'm not sure if we've told everyone what the house looks like, etc. Initially, we had planned to buy a smaller home (like 1500 sq. ft) but when we went in to sign our contract, we realized that we could get a bigger house in the same style for a thousand dollars more. We were like, um, yes, sign us up for that one, lol. The house we chose is 1655 sq. ft, two stories, brick and siding, four bedrooms, 2.5 bathrooms, open living and dining, kitchen with breakfast area, pantry and laundry room, and two car garage. The price of the house includes some appliances, landscaping and a fence. Dave chose all of the colors on the outside and I chose everything inside (carpet and tile mainly.)

We decided to go with standard options in the house and will upgrade later as we can afford it. You know--wood floors once year, new tile another, etc. It's kind of funny, but I hadn't even thought about the fun of decorating until a few weeks ago when we were visiting with Dave's grandparents (who I have to say are some of the sweetest people I've ever met!) His grandmother was genuinely excited about me getting to decorate my first house, and at first, I was like, OK..... But now, I'm like, Oh! Look at that color! And ooh! I love this dining room table. I've even found myself surfing appliance websites and looking at fridges and washers and dryers.

Which brings me to another unsettling realization: I'm going to be a wife.

Yeah. Let that one sink in. Wife. (Shudder.)

Granted, Dave and I have been basically married for the last three years that we've lived together. We pay bills together, split up the housekeeping duties, play cheerleader for one another, debate and discuss all of the important issues--hell, I've even signed my name as M. Overstreet just to get packages from that old Nazi UPS guy. But even though we've been somewhat common-law married, our relationship never got the respect it deserved from our older, married counterparts. Quite frankly, that pisses me off. Just because I don't have a wedding band and/or a marriage license doesn't mean that my commitment to Dave is any less stronger that of a wife. Seriously, Dave and I have a better relationship than most married couples I know. We're friends, lovers, supporters, and confidantes of one another. And, I just hate that Dave and I (or our friends like Ash & Ryan) are relegated to a lower echelon on the relationship tiers because we aren't married. What a load of BS! I hate to point out the obvious, but signing a marriage license isn't going to make me love or be any more committed to Dave than I already am. If you need a marriage license to make your commitment "real," I think you're doomed. It should be real before you get married. Marraige should simply be a public confirmation of what you already think and feel for your partner.

So anyways, now that my rant is off my chest, I am having some struggles with this idea of being a wife. I know that introducing myself as Dave's wife carries different implications than being his girlfriend, fiancee, etc. Like, I was just looking in my closet, and all I could think was: Does a wife wear smartass t-shirts? How about lime green and hot pink kicks?

Obviously, I know how to dress when the occassion calls for it. I have a love of fashion and a great collection of business and evening wear, but generally, I'm a jeans and tee girl. Once I'm married though, I'm not so sure. I mean, I have these conflicting visions of my future. I'm either going to be the perpetual co-ed who picks up her middle schoolers in a Suburban wearing low slung jeans, vintage tees, and KangaROOS, or I'm going to be a classy mom in a Volvo wearing khaki slacks, a cardigan, and sensible shoes. Yeah. I know. There's quite a discrepancy in those visions.

Thank god I have all of that other wifely stuff down. I'm a gourmet cook, sew my own table linens and curtains, have an eye for interior decorating, love gardening and landscaping, keep a passably tidy house, love, love, love throwing dinner parties, have a command of all things etiquette and culture, enjoy kids, and--if I don't say so myself--am a firecracker in the bedroom.

As I'm writing this, I'm realizing that I'm sure that I'm not the only one feeling this way. A dollar to a donut--Dave's experience these same fleeting momemts of inadequacy. Hmmm. That's an interesting thought. Must ask the Dave what he's feeling when he gets home. I mean, not right when he gets home from work. After I've fed him and massaged his aching feet and we've discussed our catering options, of course...

Oh, and just as a sidenote to the ending of this post, I would like everyone to repeat after me:

"Mr. Evil Military Chaplain Jerk Who Refuses To Marry Ash & Ryan, I Smite Thee With The Fury of One Thousand Suns!!!!!"

All together now! Let's say it again. And one more time!

Thanks!!!

Death 2 Bridal Salons...and Stuff

Holy Crap! So I haven't been keeping up my end of the blogging bargain because it's been all kinds of crazy in my little sphere. Here's the Cliff's Notes Version.

I signed with a literary agent right after New Year's, and my manuscript, Sangre, is making the rounds in NYC right now. The editor at Warner books who expressed early interest in the manuscript decided to pass on the project b/c she felt it wasn't commercial enough for her list, BUT, she said that "...the writing is absolutely gorgeous...." Hearing that from an editor is a great pick-me-up, especially if they decide to pass, because it means that you're writing isn't crap and will probably sell to someone else.

I'm hard at work on a dark urban fantasy novel and should have the final draft hammered out in a few weeks. After that, I'm going to finish a historical romance that I started last August and then finish up D2L. My plan is to have these three manuscripts finished before May 15 because I figure that after that, I won't have any time to write because of the wedding.

Speaking of the wedding! I finally found a wedding dress, and let me say, it wasn't easy. No, it's not because I'm picky. Unless, of course, wanting a dress to actually fucking zip is being picky. Yes. I realize that I'm chubby. I have no illusions otherwise. I'm not embarrassed by my curves. I'm actually quite proud of my rack. There are women out there who would pay good money for my 44D's. I think I have every right to expect to find a gorgeous dress to fit my body type, but apparently, my money (or rather, my dad's hard earned cash) isn't as good as some bony-assed, flat-chested chica. I mean, seriously, folks! If 2/3 of the US population is overweight wouldn't it make sense for bridal boutiques to carry dresses larger than a twelve? And what is this crap about plus size dresses all looking like some dowdy English nanny's handsewn tea cozy? Hmm?

I spent one horrible day trying on dresses with my mom and younger sister and spent almost two weeks trying to regain my self-confidence. I felt like such a disgusting cow. I know it's hard for some of my smaller friends to understand, but try going into a store and picking out ten amazing outfits in a size two or three smaller than your own. Squish yourself into them, stand in front of the mirror, and have the sale's assistant grab the open back, yank it together, and say, "This is what it would look like if it would close. Hey, but don't worry, you have plenty of time to diet."

Thank goodness my sis was with me. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of meeting Tricia, she's staunchly loyal to her friends and family and has a razor sharp tongue that loves to flay the flesh of those who dare to offend her. She's also got a glare that would make the Devil sweat. Seriously. I'm not joking. You're more than welcome to test her, but I'd make sure that my insurance covers therapy sessions 'cause you're gonna need them when she's done with you.

So anyways, I finally gave in and went to David's Bridal. The experience was surprisingly fun and easy. I saw a dress on a chubby mannequin, and at first, I thought it was pretty, but it wasn't anything like what I had envisioned wearing. On a whim, I decided to give it a try, and OMG! It was just perfect. I had one of those teary-holy-crap-i'm-really-effing-getting-married moments and bought the dress.

You have no idea what a relief it was to check that off of my Knot Checklist. Only 143 items to go before June 16!!!! Woo-hoo!

We reserved a block of hotel rooms, started working on the wording of our invitations, and are discussing our program options right now. We're also in limbo with our mortgage company. OMG! Mortgage paperwork is evil. Not your standard evil either. I'm talking EVIL a-la Vincent Price's creepy intonation. Fill out these thirty pages, attach ninety copies of tax returns, bank statements, retirement account statements, and--oh wait--we gave you the wrong form. Fill out these forty forms instead, fax this here, write this check, open up this escrow account, blah, blah, blah.

We just keep telling ourselves, "It's all worth it. It's all worth it."

So anywho--that's what's going on in my world. I'm going to go make a sandwich, open another Diet Dr. Pepper (yeah, i'm off the leaded stuff), and get back to working on my novel.