So, I am officially Christen DeFazio-Ed’sLastName.
After forking over $14 for a copy of the marriage license, I went to the Social Security Administration for the first time ever to get my new card. Have you ever been to the SSA? It’s pretty much the bleakest place on Earth. Or at least the office in Chico is pretty awful. Everyone there had a hacking cough and now I’m pretty sure I have bird flu or anthrax or avain bone syndrome. Seems like licking a shopping cart handle would be more sanitary. And fun.
The good news is that because I am a big fat nerd who researches shit to death – and loves filling out forms – I had completed everything necessary to expedite the process. The woman behind the counter seemed relieved that I had taken the three minutes it took to fill out the name change form BEFORE she called my number, and before I knew it I was swearing under penalty of perjury (she went a little Jack McCoy on me) that I wasn’t making shit up. Aside from the long wait (pro tip: make an appointment if you ever have to step foot in there), it was pretty painless. My new card will be here in two weeks, and after that I can head to the DMV (the second bleakest place on Earth) and the bank.
And of course the entire time all I could think about was the Friends episode where Phoebe changes her name to Princess Consuela Bananahammock while stifling giggles.
Yeah, I’m an adult.
Some evidence that I am losing my mind:
- I had a dream last night that I talked to Sarah Palin on the phone. I don’t recall who called who, but we just sort of chatted about current events and our families. And we agreed to disagree on…well, just about everything since she is basically my polar opposite. It was actually a pretty normal conversation (as far as dream conversations with people who appear on Fox News regularly could possibly be), and she was really rational. Yeah. I don’t know what part is the craziest, either.
- Our wine fridge has shit the bed and this morning I stumbled into the kitchen to make coffee and the whole damn place was overrun with ants. I honestly considered moving to be a logical, preferable reaction because – wait for it – I thought the kitchen had staged a revolt.
- I have an eye exam on Friday and I am giving myself pep talks to be able to cope with someone being near my eye. I am also telling myself that my big reward will be a new pair of fabulous Tina Fey-esque frames. Yes, I am bribing myself in the same manner that a mother would bribe a toddler. And I’m OK with that.
- Whenever I see someone with a misogynistic, racist, and/or pro-violence bumper sticker, I have to control the urge to ram said asshole with my truck and strangle him or her with my bare hands. But hey! At least I am fully aware of the irony of that.
- Yesterday I arranged some beautiful hydrangeas from our yard into a teapot to make some sort of Martha Stewart-esque centerpiece. Also? I picked up some Thanksgiving themed dishtowels. Both make me unreasonably, inexplicably happy.
So, can we attribute this to the time change? The schizo weather? My inevitable descent into insanity? Discuss.
So, this little post has garnered quite a bit of attention.
And I love it.
Having children has always been such a hypothetical, potential, maybe, IF, one day, far off sort of thing. And while it’s hardly on the radar in an immediate way, it’s far more of a real thing than it has ever been. And it’s fucking scary. Aside from the frightening aspects of pregnancy, childbirth, and dealing with a floppy-necked baby, I feel like there are so many external forces that make bringing a vulnerable soul into the world an intimidating prospect to say the least.
Or maybe I’m just an overly sensitive psycho who needs to calm down.
But after reading about how a kid had been ridiculed for an innocent costume choice for Halloween, I don’t think I’m overreacting. And after reading about how his mom and his peers supported that like it wasn’t a big deal (which, really, IT WASN’T), I felt a little better about the world.
I had posted a link to the post from Nerdy Apple Bottom on Facebook, and Ed had IMed me about it later in the day. He was similarly touched by how this mom just loved her son and wanted him to get to be a kid who picked his Halloween costume and enjoyed his party at school.
It’s bittersweet when your faith in people is simultaneously shot down AND reaffirmed all because a kid dared to have his own opinion and his mom respected that.
That if I drink a ton of coffee without eating anything I will feellike barfing for the next 12 hours or so.
That my hair will look awesome on the one day I’m hanging out at home. It will look super-awesome if I’m doing housework or moving.
That as soon as I stop looking for something, it will find me.
That there’s nothing to be gained by pouting or quietly seething.
That I can only control so much, and that’s not really a bad thing.
The Giants win! The Giants win the World Series!
I was banished to the backyard when the game ended, as my jumping, screaming, and propensity for breaking furniture Matt Foley-style was scaring Molly. And maybe Ed. The neighbors must love me.
After I caught my breath, I called my dad, who was on the verge of tears. With two outs in the bottom of the ninth, Judy had turned to Bubba and said, “Daddy has been waiting for this moment his whole life.” As a life-long fan and employee, he is just beside himself.
Now, to head south for the parade or not? That is the question.
What am I? A wizard or something?
I’ve been married for a whole month now, the Giants are in the World Series, there have been more engagement announcements, and I’ve gotten word that several friends are expecting babies next year. Basically, Fall 2010 is the fucking greatest thing ever.
Oh, and Ed got me some mozzarella sticks to make at home. Seriously: Husband of the Year.
The wedding was amazing, the honeymoon was delightful and restful and booze-soaked, and so far married life has exceeded expectations. My little blogging hiatus was much-needed and I’m back, bitches.