This is about YOU, Sue.

Oh Sue,

I do not even know where to start with you.

First of all, please tell me you only forgot to blog about your anniversary, but that you did in fact remember to celebrate it with your beloved. And if you did forget to wish him a happy anniversary, I don't want to know. I mean I have been planning The Lawyer's second anniversary present since, like, the week before our first. But this is not about me.

Also, you got the correct season and year of our wedding, but the wrong month, my dear. Not that I am prepared to spill our actual date into the blogosphere, as I fear the sans-ring-jinx-potential, but I just want to make sure you are properly preggo at the right time.

Aha! Bet you thought the vision of you with The Good Doctor's spawn in your womb and no wedding ring on your finger presiding over my dream nuptials would scandalize me! Alas, no.

What is slightly unnerving, however, is that it seems you and Jewish George are starting to veer in quite different directions when it comes to turning the DP into a big M. I thought you were both cool with being in a post office worker-sanctioned Domestic Partnership. I mean, you're like my token alternafriend. All my other friends are or want to get married. I need someone in my life who adds a little diversity (and I don't just mean your half-Asian hotness).

But this is not about me. I just want to make sure that you are continuing to be true to yourfabself and that the lines of communication between you and Save-the-Children-Man are open and functioning as efficiently as Michael Phelps' freestyle.

I have enough things in my life to worry about right now, from starting my MBA to picking out wedding favors. Please do not add to the load.

(Not that this is about me.)

Love to you,

Jen

Oops! Our anniversary!

Dear Jen,

Thank goodness for our DomestiGals' community; without them, you'd be lost for advice. As you well know, I would rather have severe diarrhea than talk about wedding rings. Or engagement rings. Or, well, anything related to ceremonies in general. That said, I applaud and encourage you finding your support system with these other DomestiGal Divas!

So, ahem.

The other day, I may or may not have forgotten to blog about the fact that it was me and The Doctor's anniversary. Our 2 year anniversary! And he was so sweet when he got back to our 5th floor cockroach-free walk-up from his trip to California. The second he walked in the door, he goes, "Sweetie! My darling wife. I want you to be my wife, don't you want to get married?"

My Domestic Partner response? Surely you can guess what it was. Well, I ignored him of course.

It was 2:30am for Michael Phelps' sake!

This is, sadly, the 3rd conversation we've had in a week about whether or not we should get married. He brought it up before he left for the West Coast, and the conversation went as follows:

Handsome, dashing Doctor: "Sue, do you want to get married? I was talking to my mom about it today."
Slutty Sue: (No reponse.)
Wonderful, save-the-dying-children-in-the-ER Doctor: "I mean, you must want to get married, right?"
Sue: "Sweetie, are you projecting again? I'm really fine the way things are as Domestic Partners. I thought we discussed that we didn't want to rush things."

Then, the conversation at tonight's dinner:

Jewish George Clooney: "I am really enjoying wearing my ring on my wedding finger. Have you tried it out yet?"
Shlossed Sue: "I love the way things are. I figure we can stay Domestic Partners for a while, see how we feel, and then maybe consider getting rings. And see how we feel."
JGC: "But what about when we have kids?!"
S.S.: "Then we can see how we feel with kids."
JGC: "Don't you want to marry me? I promise we won't even have to get engaged -- I know you don't want an engagement. But I was thinking I want a platinum wedding ring. What do you want?"

Obviously at this point I promptly asked for the check, paid it, and then raced home so that we could snog. (That is what you people say in England, isn't it?)

Darling, Jen. Do you think that instead of having my coochie snorcher examined by your fine English vaginal doctor, I could have my brain evaluated?

Please advise.

I mean, now that Ellen and Portia de Rossi are married, does that mean that I have to get married as well???

i.dailymail.co.uk

I wanted to be the knocked up, unmarried minister presiding over your October 2009 wedding!

Already dreaming about the oversized (cheese) balls,

Sue