Category: gettin’ hitched

Really? No, can’t be. But it is.

Labor Day. A nice three-day weekend. A day off that signifies the end of summer.

WHY GOD WHY!?!?!?!?!?

I know I can’t regulate the passage of time, (cuz if I could I’d have a lot fewer birthdays I’ll tell you that much…) but COME ON! How did the summer slip away so fast?

Here we are again. September.

Heck, the frappin’ New Mexico State Fair (Oh, excuse me, Expo New Mexico) is just around the corner…like…starting on Friday.

The days are noticeably shortening.

Before you know it, Halloween will arrive with the chill it brings in the evening breeze. (the stores already have Halloween candy on the shelves!)

Pretty soon it will be five freaking thirty in the evening and pitch black outside…while I toil away at work.

Then the time changes.

Gah!

The Good Man spent some time last night explaining to me, again, how September and October are the *best* months in the Bay Area and I should be happy for Indian Summer. I am not.

I need sunlight! I’m a wilting flower in the hazy, cloudy skies!

(she says, whimperingly, while it’s planned to be 90 degrees here today…)

*sigh*

Seasons change. People change.

Basically, if I could go back to the week of my honeymoon in the heart of summer, sitting under an umbrella by the beach, happy hour at sunset…THAT would be great.

Instead I stare mournfully out my window…at work.

Maybe this is less about the seasons on the calendar and more about the seasons of my life, eh?

Bits of paper

Talked my boss into letting me work from home today so I could avail myself to the Social Security office.

See, being an ol’ fashioned kind of gal, I’m taking my new husband’s name. No, not hyphenated. Just taking his name in place of my given surname.

And that means I gotta talk to the government folks and get their nod.

The place to start is Social Security. Once they make the change, then I can get a new driver’s license. With a new driver’s license, I can make the changes to banking, credit cards, etc.

So let’s go back. It all begins with Social Security. How’d I get a social security number in the first place?

Why, with my birth certificate.

With that, everything else falls into line.

Today, I also took my marriage license to show my new name is valid.

The sum of my identity, who I am to the world, or at least what my name is, how I prove I’m me, comes down to a couple pieces of paper.

One tattered almost forty year old certified birth certificate and one shiny new marriage license.

Paper. Wood pulp. All that I am. Without them, I don’t exist in the eyes of my country. Or the world, for that matter.

Can’t bank. Can’t travel. Can’t get into school. Can’t work. Can’t rent a home. Certainly can’t buy a home. Can’t buy groceries cuz I can’t make money.

Nuttin’

It kind of creeps me out, actually.

Thankfully the SSA lady couldn’t have been nicer. The change was made quickly. In about two business days I can get a new driver’s license. With my license I can change my name at the bank.

I still get to prove I’m me.

Imagine if you couldn’t?

A little mind bending.

Well. Onward, and getting used to signing my new last name. THAT will take some getting used to.

Happy Labor Day weekend to all!

Ok, I’m gonna brag a bit.

Hesitated on doing this, but I’m going to go for it.

Here’s a photo of me on my wedding day.

I actually *felt* pretty that day. It’s so rare I feel something like that down to my bones, but I did on my wedding day.

That’s a happy memory I’ll carry with me always.

Having professional hair, makeup and photographer helps A LOT.

But I’m just proud of this, so I’ll share.

I’ve made a full recovery.

Probably time to tell folks that I’ve been convalescing for some time trying very hard to recover from a difficult affliction.

It strikes mostly women between the ages of 18 to 50. The numbers for this disorder are steadily on the rise, if you can believe the press.

It causes pain around the heart area, headaches and chronic pain in the arse.

It is the topic of talk shows, magazine covers and water cooler conversations ’round the world as women band together to defeat this terrible, terrible suffering.

What is this troubling ailment?

Chronic Single-itis.

Yes, folks, I’m pleased to tell you that as of today, I’ve gone into complete remission.

And I guess now The Cute Boy is The Cutest Husband. Or he can just remain The Good Man, I suppose…

(P.S. I couldn’t *be* happier!)