Officially Unofficial

Arthur and I have been talking for a while now about wanting a "non-traditional" wedding. Not quite sure what that means exactly? Well, neither do we. Getting married on top of the Kingda Ka? Don't even think about it, Arthur. Dressing up in period costume? My friends would just die. Running away and eloping? Well, that would be sweet, but it isn't going to happen.

So really we aren't too sure about what we want specifically. What we do know is what we don't want. Since I'm writing this, I'll let Arthur speak if his "not wants" himself, and concentrate on mine at this juncture.

I don't want to feel a part of the bridal machine or to feel suckered into things that are not us. Instead, I want to make the choices that make us both happy and that will lead us to a hell of a party that celebrates the beginning of our married life and the start of Arthur having health insurance for the first time since I've known him.

I don't want to wear a traditional white dress (though, I've since decided that I am willing to try on white dresses with color in them) or wear a veil or have my parents "give me away." My feminist leanings simply won't allow me to subscribe to the symbols behind these "traditions" (many of which didn't start until around WWII).

I don't want to throw a bouquet so that my single friends can gleefully squeal in some absurd notion of feminine competition (every woman must WANT to get married, mustn't she?). I don't want to do the chicken, the electric slide, the "hands-up" dance, the macarena or that terrible Grease compilation remix. There. I have said it. And the wedding gods have neglected to send the bad bride lightening bolt in order to strike me down. Minor offense, perhaps.

The biggest wedding sin committed so far, I think, is not wanting a big rock. Never been one for the concept of spending three months salary on a piece of jewelry that tells the world I am now taken, but says nothing about my betrothed's status, I also feared patronizing a sketchy industry. So while I think they're pretty and sparkly, it's not me. After much conversation and a bit of deliberation, Arthur and I have purchased engagement rings (note the plural - it's not a type-o). We chose hand-woven rings that will be custom made out of the same braid. They haven't arrived yet, but should be here any day! I'm dying! Where are those @#$%ers?!? Sorry. OK. Anyway, like I was saying, they have not come yet. So Arthur and I decided that until such time as they do show up, we are "unofficially engaged."

We, of course, told our parents. And our siblings. And our closest friends. And a couple of co-workers. But that's it....