On Saturday I went to a wedding reception for a dear family friend and his new bride. I did not do The Elaine Dance. We call this “growth.”
Ed is still on this epic ass-ache business trip so I went with my parents, which just gave the whole thing a Miss Havisham-air of pathetic. I thought about taking a cue from Liz Lemon and “lean into it” by bringing a cat in a stroller. Did I mention that the bride and groom are several years younger? And already expecting? Are we all seeing where this is going?
Word of my betrothal has spread and a lot of acquaintances came over to congratulate…us…only it was just me. Sitting in between my parents. “No, really! I have a fiance! He just goes to another school! In Canada!” There were a lot of sleptical looks thrown my way. A lot of questions about Ed being gone on a weekend business trip. I may have mumbled something about him belonging to Graphic Designers Without Borders and helping teach children in third world countries about PhotoShop. I don’t know. There was wine.
There also seem to be a lot of opinions on my whole name thing.* Apparently my last name is inherently awful and I should be welcoming the opportunity to change it to [Ed’s last name] which is much more desirable (read: easier to spell or not ethnic sounding or something). It’s a perfectly lovely name – I think both of our names are nice – but I’m at peace with my choice to keep my name while adding his. And maybe even re-visit this topic down the road and go straight-up [Ed’s last name] because guess what? It’s my fucking business.
I’m still trying to process all of the, “So when are you going to have A BAYBEE?” inquiries without inducing a nosebleed from a rage-stroke. Since when did my uterus become polite party chi-chat?
And this, my friends, is why it’s good to have a dad who will just snag an entire bottle of wine from the bar and plop it down on the table. And also why I am never going to one of these things alone ever again. To my credit, I kept a smile on my face at all times and just rolled with it. See: there was wine.
*My mother, bless her heart, leapt in with the defense that my married name sounds “really badass” and “like a pimp” and I swear I have never loved her more.