And you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here?

A few days before my wedding I was at my Great Aunt’s house and one of my older cousins, Pandy, was there. The subject turned to my pending nuptials and she jokingly reminded me that this was “going to be first of your five marriages. Good job, hope the party is fun.” Natch! Stunned and taken aback I asked her what she meant by that and she then proceeded to remind me that from the time I was 4 (sick I know) until about 23 I would run around telling anyone that would listen that I intended to be married multiple times because the only high-point of being married was to have a HUGE party and wear a great dress. Totes inapprop, but to her defense I may have said this to her at her own wedding…both her first and second.

I have to say, I never really envisioned myself as a bride much less a wife. I am not very bridey or girly…in that way. I mean I am UBER girly in that I love pink, Britney Spears, hate icky crawly things and have a mild (okay TOTAL) obsession with shoes and hangbags.* But in my ultra girl world, boys never really factored into the picture in any sort of seriousness.

I never really liked having exclusive boyfriends because I did not like the hassle of being tied down to anyone. I mean if you think about it, marriage is like “game over” right? So why ANYONE in their right mind did it boggled me to no end. It’s just so final, no reset button, no do-overs, you are pretty much done.

So here I am 30 years old married to my “exclusive” boyfriend of 5 years and I have to say it’s not so bad. I mean to be honest, it is kinda the same except I just spend more time in our place (I am Latin and Catholic and a square so no, we did not live together). I mean there is still the finality of it all…but then there is also the comradery that you are in this together, the joy of trying to “make it” in this cold cruel world**, the benefit to have someone take out the trash and kill icky crawly things and the joy of being with someone who makes you happy (and keeps your cold feet warm at night). If that is what final looks like, well then maybe that is not so bad, right?

Anyway, the whole point of this is never say never because you never know when never will bite you in your love stricken ass. Make sense? Stay tuned tomorrow I promise retellings of wedding fêtes and honeymoon bliss.

This post is dedicated to my gay friends who still have to fight for their right to party at their OWN legally sanctioned weddings. Please remember LOVE not 8 HATE everyone.

* I am sorry but when I a girl tells me she is not “into shoes” it makes me cringe…ugh talk about a waste of a vagina…crass I know.
** And by “make-it” I mean reap the benefits off my rather already made 20-something year old husband who affords us our lifestyle…kinda like Kato…except hopefully the hubby is not OJ because that would not be good.