Hayat al-Flooz

As a wee-one in the Heartland, writing was my pleasure, solace and therapy all in one. As I settle into unsettled living in New York City, it is due time to reconnect with my old friend. Enjoy the attempted intellectual musings and personal reflections; comment with reckless abandon. Welcome to the life of Flooz.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Let the Games Begin

Sometime between working full time, applying to graduate school, planning a wedding and mitigating the inevitable craziness that accompanies the latter, I've neglected my blog. I think I'm overdue a rant on this whole wedding thing, not on the "institution of marriage" or "losing my independence" or anything like that, but on the emotional tinderbox that waits for even the calmest couple. In corner number one, we have His Family, which is very concerned about my elbows (and whether they will be exposed at our wedding). In the corner number 2, My Family, parts of which have focused their attention on inventing excuses as to why we cannot get married (the weather is so unpredictable in October), or alternately, demanding bacon be served alongside our Glatt Kosher cuisine.

And finally, there is us, the couple, who is trying to avoid being drawn and quartered. It seems that regardless of our intentions to avoid the melodrama, other parties are intent on injecting a full dose into the process. And it's this process that is driving me mad, that is causing unnecessary friction between the lovebirds, and thus, I want to opt out. Like an annoying e-mail newsletter that keeps filling your inbox with content you either already know or are disinterested in. I want to opt out. I want a wedding with our friends and family, that's it. I don't care about sit-down dinners or the color of the ribbons or whether or not everyone matches. I want to dance with my mister and rejoice in the start of our life together. and yes, my elbows will be joining in the celebration.

got a place in NY that will hold 250 people and not require a second mortgage? speak up and you dear reader can be the SPAM blocker that saves my sanity.