Tuesday, November 17, 2009


I think I'm at a point in my life where I want to keep things simple. I'm not entirely sure why that is. I used to get warm fuzzies over the thought of being made a fuss over. Not so much these days.

If I were to get married, I think I'd like to bypass a lot of the typical stuff and just get it done with some friends and family present. Maybe I've heard too much being made of the whole deal. It's not that I don't think marriage is important. It is. It's just that half the people who do it get divorced. And then they have second and third weddings and all with the same hooplah... it's just not that big of a decision, it seems to me, if you'll do it with more than one person and you can take it back later.

And for me, I've been living a la sin for two years now, just about, and taking that step wouldn't dramatically change my life, other than allowing for more future planning and some more merging of finances. I think I'd feel stupid throwing anything big. And that's odd because I never feel this way about anyone else's wedding, no matter how long they've been together, lived together, have had a child etc. Just me.

Same thing with a baby. Some women get pregnant and from that point forward they're showing every jerk in a three-metre radius their sonogram picture, throwing their own showers, doing up an expensive baby registry in one theme and taking back stuff purchased that does not fit that theme, Twittering their labour progress and update their Facebook statuses with diaper mishaps and about 500 pictures and inviting everyone they've ever known to baby's first birthday in a gift grab blaze of glory.

Not that I ever wanted anything like that, but the more I think about it, the less "stuff" you bring into the house and the less pressure you place on yourself and everyone around you to perform to these standards of giving and attention for this whole birth thing, seems the more joyful and less overwhelming the whole thing could be.

Then there are birthdays. I'm turning 27 in a few weeks. I've been accidentally calling myself 27 here and there for a month or so now, so this is not a big deal birthday. All I want is my friends and some good food. Whatever happens, happens.

Past birthdays were harder on me, and after several disappointments I started inadvertently measuring them as how loved or liked I was, which the answer seemed to say to me: not much. But the less importance I put on the day, the more I tend to enjoy it. This year the Dude is going to sort something out, and whatever it is, I'll be happy with it.

Funny. Maybe I'm getting old. Not like old-old, but mellowing out. And maybe that's a difference when you do things for the celebratory purposes and the fantasy, and when you want to do things because you want to actually go through with them. I think I'm at a stage where I'm ready to buckle down and actually think about these choices in a real way.

This isn't some sort of blogging announcement about my upcoming shotgun wedding and I'm due in March or anything. But I have been thinking about this change in me lately.

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