Dear Sir, (I don’t know how formal we are. You might be extra fancy.)
So, you think you want to marry me.
I would encourage you to think twice before committing to such a long-term undertaking. I have been engaged twice and to be quite frank I’m over the wedding cancelling thing. Know that if I choose to marry you I will stay cute, make you laugh, bake insanely good cookies to bring to your boss at Christmas, and I will generally support the crap out of you. However, there are bad things you must know upfront, which I cover in this letter. I will work on all of these, but you can’t marry someone expecting them to change- that’s Dr. Phil 101 so here it is- take it or leave it as it currently stands:
- I will say “Let’s go to the beach!” and I’ll gleefully gather tons of beach things and be super psyched. My level of excitement will make you think we are about to be the first boring married couple to ever go in the history of the universe. I’ll say things like “WE are going to build the biggest sandcastle EVER!!” and tweet that I’m “Off to the beach! Yay.” It will take me upwards of 2 hours get ready. I will ask you how fat I look in my bathing suit, pull out my monogrammed L.L. Bean Beach Tote, argue with you about putting on sunscreen (you’re pro and I’m against) and take cheez-it’s out of the big box and into little baggies. 20 minutes at the beach: I’ve realized my civil engineering comprehension as applicable to sandcastles is lacking and I’ve gone waist deep into the water a few times. I’m bored and ready to head home. Remind me that “I really wanna get a tan” and I will stay. (Being tan is the trump card to my life. That’s your ace in the hole argument always.)
- I go overboard at Christmas. Just let me.
- If there is a phobia to be had, I have it. Can that be endearing?
- I have mass shrunken all of my cardigans at once in no fewer than 3 tragic and emotional cardi genocides. Why I don’t learn is a topic of wonder and amazement. When this happens I cry and talk about getting half sleeves tattooed. This is all easily solved by purchasing new cardigans.
- I’m a prodigious liability at large social gatherings. You will not want to be associated with me 17% of the time, but you have to be… because we are married. Sorry sucka. If I tell a joke and it flops- laugh anyway. Please observe when I’m flopping and throw me a social life jacket. Note that I don’t have a huge arsenal of life jackets to throw you myself, so please keep it together for the both of us.
- On the topic of keeping track of life’s little details: I don’t/can’t/am trying. Problems include locking cars/homes, locating my keys, closing windows before rain, and keeping track of anything that goes in a wallet as well as the wallet itself. I will panic. I will try my best to “stay organized”, but you will need to have patience and an eye for detail if you ever want to leave the house to go anywhere ever at any time.
- 80′s and 90′s sitcoms are all the TV I care to watch. I say that I don’t expect you to watch with me, but I also cant comprehend why someone wouldn’t want to watch the Cosby Show in bulk sittings. Little Raven is irresistible.
- If we find ourselves below the Mason-Dixon I will fake a southern accent the entire time. I think it’s cute, but you’ll know it’s not cute… just let me.
- I don’t ask questions in entirety. I will ask “Eggs?” “Toyota?” “That thingie?” I can’t defend this, I don’t even know.
- When a thought strikes and I MUST [insert project here] it will result in a giant mess lasting between 2 hours and a month. I may or may not finish. (It’s the journey not the destination.) This has included: Building a Go-Kart, leather-working, letterpress, welding, scrapbooking, Oil paintings, regular painting, pottery wheels, renovating furniture, upholstering, sewing my own clothes, gardening flowers, gardening vegetables, gardening herbs, making my own holiday cards, making a different kind of holiday cookie for everyone I know. Just let me.
- My dog, Dexter, has been here since I was 19 and far precedes you. Love him like he is an actual baby child.
- I have had a prescription for adderall since I was 17. If you startle me during a drug addled study/writing session you should guard your neck because I might karate chop you. I’m very aggressive when startled on the addy.
- I am the Queen of grand schemes (separate from “projects”). 30-40% of them (ballpark) pan out, and the majority of my life consists of failing repetitively. Though I’m ok with this because I like my ideas; you’re going to have to stop me if necessary. If I start talking about creating a teddy bear crafting empire of robotic teddy bears because they are so smart, simply nod, tell me yes teddy bears are interesting and then distract me with a quickly moving shiny object… like a new nickel.
- Your phone will be the last stop on the train of thoughts and observations constantly running through my mind. Right now I have about 20 friends that I share the wealth among, but you will take most of the hit if we marry. I do this with the understanding that you have a life and cannot always respond. All I ask is that you not reprimand me, roll your eyes or express shock at paragraphs of stories and photos on your phone.
- I will not tolerate being called babe or anything like babe. If you insist on referring to me by a nickname “The Rock” …or any another 80′s wrestler is fine.
- I will write about you, and if life goes correctly it will be published on high traffic websites. I promise some things with be off limits, but if you like fall off the roof cleaning the gutters or something and its hilarious then sorryimnotsorry. (Actually the gutters thing doesn’t sound that funny but you get my gist, right? Because we’re dating you get me??)
- I take great pride in completing everyday useful tasks. I will try and build my own bookshelves, and change my own tires, etc. Let me. Watch me do this as one might watch a young child stubbornly try to teach himself how to tie his own shoes. These activities will result in my tongue sticking oddly out the side of my mouth and weird breathing. Be prepared to fix it when I literally or figuratively hit a wall.
- Folding clothes is not something I do. I make categorized piles and hang things that are prone to wrinkles. Please don’t make me fold clothes, I would rather pop my eyeballs with my thumbs.
- I hate conflict, and only pursue it if I feel a moral obligation or if I’m just.that.done. The only people I can handle engaging in conflict with are named Christine and Bill and you will need their permission to marry me. If we’re fighting and I do something that my therapist calls “shutting down” understand that I’m just quiet because I’m trying to figure out when to murder you and how. Leave me be when this happens. In a few hours to a week you will receive a Facebook message or email outlining my analysis of the situation in up to by not limited by 2,000 words, and will usually be sprinkled with photos, gifs and jokes because I am uncomfortable. I will always work it out with you as soon as I am able to be rational.
- I am very irrational when taken by surprise. In fact, please have “irrational when taken by surprise” written on my tombstone. I’m sure my death will be somehow related.
- I make jokes when I am uncomfortable. They will not be good jokes. I’m sorry.
- I have a list of creative punishments for our children. Just let me.
That’s all I can think of right now. All the best. I promise to act surprised when you propose if you decide to go that route. (Oh also, I meddle.)