When I mentioned earlier that Julie ribbed me about getting married in Sarasota, I didn’t finish the story; that entry somehow morphed into something else. And so here I will finish what I started.
Apparently, my parents are constantly curious about where I will get married. When I dated Doug, my father balked at the idea of having to travel to Princeton for the ceremony — Doug grew up there, and his parents are still there, so I suppose my parents assumed Doug would insist upon a ceremony there. For whatever reason, this didn’t sit well with my parents — despite the fact that Princeton’s locale would’ve meant getting hitched in a city that actually meant something to one of us — and so Mom and Dad were all poised to put down their feet and ask for a Sarasota ceremony.
We all know how that one ended.
This time, apparently, my father isn’t keen on the idea of Pittsburgh or Rochester, the cities that individually house Kevin’s parents, and so they’re wondering where Kevin and I will tie the knot. From this, you might infer that Kevin and I are talking marriage; we are not, at this point, and have not. We have been dating for a whopping year and two weeks or so, which seems like a fine amount of time to be together and be very happy, yet not feel under the gun to tie the knot. We’re in the phase where we get to enjoy the fruits of a year of shared history without needing to stop and think, “Okay, now what?” And yet apparently my parents are already having talks about the geography of our marriage ceremony.
People, people, people! Why are you having these discussions when I am not even having these discussions? Save yourself the vexation!
It was funny, though, when Julie turned to me and said, “No, seriously, I’m apparently supposed to be finding out from you whether that’s going to happen.”
I wasn’t sure how to react to that. But, I want to make it clear that my parents are not sitting around wishing that I would settle down with a nice boy and make babies. Indeed, they breathe not a word of this marriage speculation to me, which does indicate how little they want to pressure me into one thing or another. But it’s clear that my innate suspiciousness is genetic; evidently my parents are simply always wondering if there is something brewing about which they know nothing — they assume they’re in the dark about things — and lately, it’s been whether Kevin would pop the question during our Park City vacation.
I guess my other sister, Alison, got engaged after eight months or less — and bravo to them for taking the leap and being sure, and by all appearances, also being completely correct. But it means that my Mom and Alison use that as the measuring stick for other relationships, and Al is apparently figuring that as I get older, I must really be wanting A Ring. Which is accurate, if you mean “ring” as “phone call,” or “silver piece of jewelry I buy at a low cost and wear forever, or until it turns my finger a strange color.” But The Ring is not something toward which I’m hurtling; it’ll happen when it’s meant to happen.
And, I’m relatively certain it will happen after some kind of conversation about future wants and needs with Kevin — the kind that avoids any unpleasant surprises: “So, polygamy is your game?” “Oh, you actually want two and a half kids?” “You want your children to winter in Alaska?” “Wait, you want your kids to be USC fans?”
So as we have cruised along, happy as can be, my oldest sister has worried that I’d be crushed if I left snowy Utah without ice on my finger (or as Julie hilariously phrased it, without “blinging in the new year”), and my parents have been afraid I’d call them and start waxing poetic about how magical the city of Pittsburgh can be. Julie’s caught in the middle, as a messenger to both sides who understands the speculation but completely sympathizes and agrees with my surprise that people already have expectations. And all Kevin and I are doing is cuddling and saying, “You rule! I love you! Whee! We’re dorks!”
All this over something that isn’t even on the horizon right now. Imagine how my mother will flip when it is on the horizon and I have to tell her that I don’t want a full-on wedding Mass.