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

The Fake Joint Bank Account

Jen,

Alas, I must admit that I’d rather have chronic diarrhea for the rest of my life than plan a wedding; however, I’m excited for you guys to get hitched and seal my karma. And, of course, I’m all set to get my online minister certificate with The Universal Life Church and wear a totally inappropriate hot red dress to your wedding. Did I tell you that they insist I sign an agreement saying, essentially, that all people are nice? Yawn.

Scott and I opened up a fake joint bank account yesterday solely to prove we’re domestic partners. Domestic partnerships = excellent health insurance = free medical massages for Wendi. Did you see the article in the NY Times the other week about how couples are getting married just for health insurance? They may as well have interviewed me during a shiatsu session.

Our appointment at the bank went as follows:

Nice bank lady: "How much would you like to start your account with?"
Wendi: "Could you just open it with this $5 bill?"

Nice bank lady: “Would you like an ATM card for your joint account?”
Wendi: “Nah.”

NBL: “Would you like checks with both of your names on it?”
Wendi: “Um, doesn’t that cost $20? No thanks.”

NBL: “Do you both want online access to the account?”
Control Freak Wendi: “I’ll be the only one accessing the account. Are there any penalties associated with closing the joint account within a few weeks?”

Confused but Nice Bank Lady: “You did say you wanted a joint account, right?”
Wendi: “This is really more of a formality.”

Tomorrow our bank account will be official, and then we’re going to the post office to have our domestic partnership proof verification notarized. Essentially, we’re getting married by the angry mail lady!

Beyond awesome. Scott wants to dress up for the occasion.

xx,
Your solemn and faithful future minister