I’ve never told this story here, and on the heels of the whole government marriage conversation, I figured now would be a fine time.

On Patriot’s Day ‘07, The Inconvenience asked me to marry him. I, of course, agreed.

After much discussion, we decided to have a wedding that summer. It would be a short engagement, but several factors made it the best choice. We set the date for August 4th.

Much wailing and gnashing of teeth over the idea of a marriage license ensued. We both fundamentally object to the idea of government-sanctioned marriage. The idea of getting a license for a marriage was, and is, abhorrent to us. Idaho is not a common-law marriage state, so we tried to figure out how long we’d have to spend in Montana for their common-law marriage to go into effect. We tried to figure out how we could get around tax codes and health insurance issues. I had the paperwork in hand to legally change my last name to his.

The biggest problem looming over our heads, however, was the United States Marine Corps. At the time of our engagement, The Inconvenience intended to go back into the Corps as an officer. The old joke says: If the Marines wanted you to have a spouse, they would have issued you one. Well, times that by a million for an un-officially-married partner. We tried, and tried, and tried to come up with a way to be married in the eyes of the government (specifically the DoD) without getting a marriage license. If there was a way, we couldn’t find it.

Unrelated to the government marriage contract, we were planning a wedding. A rather spectacular wedding, in fact. We were hung up on the choice of officiant, though – we don’t attend a local church, and picking a grab-bag religious official seemed like a bad idea. We didn’t want the ‘blessing’ of someone who thinks homosexuals are all bound for Hades, or that maybe the Aryan Nation folks had the right idea. (Yes, I just stereotyped the hell out of my beloved north Idaho.) Point being, we were uncomfortable with the idea of having someone we’d only met once leading our wedding.

So, we thought and thought, and came up with the idea of asking a rather pious but open-minded friend to perform the ceremony. I asked, he agreed, and one internet-ordainment later, he was ready to go.

Here’s where the license starts to cause even more problems. Somehow, I got a look at a license, and realized the officiant’s information has a pre-printed COUNTY OF ______, STATE OF IDAHO section. Our officiant was from California.

Then, The Inconvenience bought our plane tickets for the honeymoon – to commence the day following the wedding – and purchased mine as Mrs. Laurel Inconvenience, rather than Ms. Laurel Zimmer. Until the license was filed, which could not happen on a Sunday, I couldn’t officially be Mrs. Inconvenience.

So, on July 17th, 2007, we decided we’d had enough of the marriage license bullshit. (Haha – I didn’t even realize this was the two-year anniversary until just now.) I suggested we figure out the bare minimum required for a legal marriage in Idaho, do it, and that way the marriage license debacle would have nothing to do with our wedding. The Inconvenience heartily agreed.

Off to the courthouse we went. On the way, I called yet another friend, and told him to get internet ordained. “Wait, what? Why?” was his response. I gave him the low-down and said we’d be at his apartment inside the hour. We marched into the county clerk’s office and asked to apply for a marriage license. We were treated to a mandatory pamphlet on the dangers of AIDS, and then an application that requested such information as race and religion. I believe we were both “American” and “No preference” or something along those lines.¹

Next stop, the newly-minted Reverend’s house. I’d learned via searching Idaho code that I needed to pay him a minimum of $5 for performing the ceremony, so I handed him a bag of $5 in quarters for his laundry. Now, to find witnesses – luckily, the downstairs neighbors were home. Two very inebriated college kids, “Rob” and “Nicky B” were called to the courtyard to sign the paperwork. (Rob was, quite seriously, shirtless and wearing a belt buckle that said “FUCK.”)

The Reverend asked what he was supposed to do. According to Idaho code, the minimum required was for him to verify our identities and ages, then for us to agree to take another as husband and wife. We showed him our drivers licenses to be official (though he fully knew our ages). He asked The Inconvenience if he’d consider me his legal wife. He said yes. He asked me if I’d consider the Inconvenience my legal husband. I said yes. Everyone signed the license, and bam – done. Did I mention The Inconvenience and I were both open-carrying at the time?

If I recall correctly, we returned to the clerk the same day to file the license. She definitely gave us the oh-you-are-so-pregnant look (and I most certainly was NOT!). I found a copy of our marriage license a couple of months ago and realized the Reverend had written the date in the wrong place – so he’d scribbled it out and written “OOPS!” above it. Best. Marriage. License. Ever.

In the couple of weeks between the legal-contract-establishment and our wedding, I was able to change my name, get a new drivers’ license, etc. Aside from getting the annoying stuff out of the way ahead of time, none of it had any bearing on our marriage. It was awesome. Our wedding was 100% about what it should have been: Marriage in the eyes of God, family, friends. Our wedding anniversary is August 4 – the couple of times I’ve had to put the date of our legal contract on legal forms, I’ve had to really think about when it was. It means nothing to us, other than being a pretty good story.

Diminishing the role of the government in the establishment of my marriage was one of the best things I’ve ever done. I think it set us off on the right foot. Needless to say, The Inconvenience did not go back in the USMC (though that’s another story for another day) so it did kind of wind up being all for naught. We’ve joked about getting legally divorced, now, but frankly don’t care to spend the money.

¹ An aside: When we filed the Girl Child’s birth certificate, my midwife suggested we list “human” as her race. We did, and that is now my default answer to such questions.

Mike: You need to update your damn blog.
Me: …
Mike: How else am I supposed to find out what is going on with you!? If you don’t blog, I’ll have to actually talk to you!

Ahh… Nothing like newlyweds. :) Truth is, there doesn’t appear to be a whole lot to talk or blog about right now. I’m going back to work in about an hour, school starts on Monday (I’m taking 19 credits) and… Yeah. Honeymooning was not good to my waistline, so I have to get back on track with all that nonsense. Skipped KM last night because I was rather lethargic and demotivated – I think it’s a combination of a) eating crap and not working out… or doing a whole heck of a lot healthy for two weeks, and b) looking around at the vast quantities of stuff in my house and wondering where I’m supposed to put it all. I need shelving.

But don’t think I’m complaining, though – oh no. We have more cooking stuff than I know what to do with – I’m so excited about it that I keep wanting to make like three dinners at once just so I can try it all out. My folks got us All-Clad, for cryin’ out loud – I feel like a chef!

Speaking of kickass wedding presents, I have been meaning to make a special note: Our first wedding present to arrive was from none other than blog reader ParatrooperJJ. We were surprised and flattered and quite thankful for the generosity – so, JJ, I’ll be sending you a “real” thank-you in the mail, but for now: thank you, from both of us!

Oh, this is pretty important: I got an email last night from one of my fellow local pro-gun activists. He had submitted a formal request to our state senator and representative for an opinion on UI’s gun policies from the Idaho Attorney General. It was quite a while back, and I assumed the A.G. was just dragging his feet. Anyway, the report is in, and I guess it took so long because the freaking thing is like 40 pages long! My cohort said he hadn’t read through the whole thing yet, and wanted to know if I could help scan it into PDF form or something for easy distribution. So, alas, I’m not sure what the findings are just yet. I asked him for at least a summary, and hopefully to secure a copy of it ASAP – and, one way or another, we hope to get it into electronic form within the next week. Once it’s available I will post a copy here. Keep crossing those fingers it says what we all know it should say!

Must go dry my hair and flit off to work… Hopefully I’ll have good news coming in soon.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen! It’s true, kids – the great and wonderful pinnacle of independence that was Laurel Zimmer is no more. (Okay, anyone who actually knows us as a couple knows that statement is crap. It’s so fun to make ball and chain jokes, though! I also like introducing myself as “his better half.”)

Anyway, I’ll still be blogging as LZ, so never fear, I’m not going anywhere.

Here’s pictoral proof that I actually got in a wedding dress, courtesy of Kelly Bennett Photography:

The rest are in line to be proofed soon, so I’ll probably link to those later.

Anyway, we are sitting at the Las Vegas airport – our honeymoon consisted of stays in San Diego and Las Vegas. (I know – Mike voluntarily took me to California for vacation – wtf!?) I’m a slightly darker shade of Idaho white, which is nice. We also learned that Mike doesn’t tan, he freckles, and this has led me to conclude he’s a bona fide ginger kid.

That’s pretty much all for now, I’ll have a more exciting news roundup after we’re back and settled in Moscow. Thanks to all for your well-wishes – and if I owe you an email (which is a good chunk of you), hang in there, I’ll be getting caught up as soon as possible.

Soooo I logged in over at theknot.com to start playing with seating arrangements, and it kindly reminded me that my wedding is in 19 days.

Thus, added to the list of “Things That Make Me Hyperventilate” – a sub-20-day wedding countdown.

My friend George pretty much ruined the wedding gifting for everyone else, so feel free to throw things in his general direction.

I knew his gift was going to be pretty kickass, because he said a) it sums up our relationship, b) it meant he would be eating mac and cheese for a while and c) it wouldn’t last very long. I figured it had to be some high-quality ale, or maybe high-quality ammo… But no.

Better.

Mike and I came home yesterday to find a box on our doorstep. “What’s that?” Mike wondered. Then I noticed how it was addressed:

“OH! It’s our wedding present from George!” …which caused Mike to make this face: o_0

It’s about this time that Mike notices a sticker on top, which says: ORM-D. “Uhhh, I think that’s like, explosives or something,” he points out. I snatch it up only to find it to be quite light – maybe it’s a small quantity of really kickass ammo? Then I hear something inside, shifting… It sounds like sand. WTF? Did he send us reloading stuff or something?

In to the kitchen it goes, and out comes a knife to slice it open. I’m going to recreate this now, so you can all share in my schoolgirl-like joy.

First, I see a bunch of newspaper. Not so exciting:

Then, this:

I start OMG-ing, Mike is looking confused, and I exclaim…

TANNERITE! IT’S EFFING TANNERITE!

How many wedding presents come with a chemical catalyst? At this point I was on the verge of joyous tears.

Thank you, George, from the bottom of our explosive-lovin’ hearts. We love it, and I can’t wait to destroy various stuffed animals, fruits and vegetables, and probably some zombies.

P.S. For those of you tragically unacquainted with Tannerite, watch and learn… And yes, this was left sitting, unsigned for, unattended, on our doorstep. And it’s legal in all 50 states. God bless America!

Yep. The Po showed up a little while ago…

Mistaken identity, though. No fun! Turns out the officer (single responder) was looking for the other half of the duplex (wow… thank God I’m not Cory Maye) for some family drama relating to one of the visiting teenagers over there. Booooring.

The lulz came just now, when Mike and I were sitting on the couch, and I said, “That cop seemed like a pretty nice guy,” and Mike replied… “Yep. I bet he’s a perfectly nice guy. Probably donates to charity and helps out with the Boy Scouts and a bunch of other stuff that I would totally agree with. Hell – I’d probably buy him a beer! But when the order comes to go out and violate the Constitution, he’ll probably get right on it, and then I’ll have to kick his ass.”

Okay… maybe you had to be here.

On an unrelated note, we’re watching the PBS documentary PBS wouldn’t air.

“Muslims Against Jihad”. A Denmark Muslim was on a little while ago, talking about how his parents were insisting he honor-kill his sister for wanting to marry a non-Muslim or something equally ridiculous. Doubleyou-tee-eff. Really.

Summer Blockbuster Roundup

We saw Live Free or Die Hard the other day. Lots of ’splodey things, lots of Bruce Willis (swoon) and lots of Mac-nerd. I was pleased. Definitely worth the matinee price and 99% sure it’s worth the evening showings. Pretty much pure fun.

Now… as for Transformers: THAT MOVIE KICKED ALL THE ASS. I wasn’t a Transformers watcher as a kid, though Mike was. I expected lots of cheesy, unnecessary humor (a la the Spiderman trilogy, which I didn’t like), mediocre special effects, and an overall “kiddie flick” feel.

WRONG!

It was unusually pro-American (compared to other current movies), completely chock-full of some of the best special effects I’ve ever seen, and not cheesy. Period. There were a couple very brief moments of campy dialogue, but it was so overshadowed by the overall movie that it didn’t bother me at all. The likeable characters, were, the bad guys were, quite so, and… Yes. Very yes. Go see it, and see it again. It was great.

Wedding Countdown

This time, four weeks from now, I will be about an eight-hour veteran of the whole Mrs. thing. I can think of worse things to be. :)

Feedback request: any ceremony suggestions? Readings, write our own vows or not, etc? It’s all 100% up to us, since we have a friend doing the ceremony… I’m thinking perhaps a passage from Gates of Fire and something from letters between John and Abigail Adams. Maybe a Bible verse or two, too, though I don’t want to do anything too stereotypical. I’m a smidge infatuated with Proverbs 31:10-31, though, so maybe I’ll work that in.

PFT

I’m working up to PT with Mike (more on exactly why, coming soon…) but have a long ways to go. Still, I got 46 crunches in two minutes (yes, sucky, but considering the fact I haven’t done any crunches in… months – not too bad for Day No. 1) and am up to a 20 second flexed-arm hang. My upper body strength has been historically poor, but I’m making quick progress with the flexed-arm hang, so I’m pretty happy with that. I have not yet attempted a run. That is going to suck.

I’m getting married in 28 days.

Four weeks from tomorrow.

::freaks out::

I will be carefully avoiding this movie, this song, and anything referencing the phrase “cold feet,” until well after the ceremony.

Actually, a Google search on said phrase brought up the following:

What should be a time of bliss can also feel like a time of loss, and that’s healthy. Only by grieving the end of single life can you fully embrace your new married life. “It’s a long slow trudge through some pretty dark places,” Moir-Smith says. Not everyone gets cold feet, but an identity shift will happen. If you don’t allow it to happen before the wedding, it will catch up with you later.

Elsewhere it mentioned that one of the main speakers in the article, a therapist, knew her cold feet didn’t have anything to do with the guy… it was all internal. So true. I was driving home the other day and had a random thought: I’m entering the last month of my life where I exist as a financially independent individual. Now, don’t get me wrong – there are a helluva lot of benefits about combining our assets, and we’ve talked a lot about finances, debt, etc. and how we want to handle it all. I think it will work out well. But I still had a minor freak-out about the fact that I’m never going to be just me ever again.

I had another wedding dream Thursday night. It was raining again, like last time – I think I need to look up the symbolism of rain in dreams. (Of course I woke up with Alanis Morisette stuck in my head – “It’s like raaaaaaaaain… on your wed-ding daaaay…”) And yet again, everything was happening at the last minute. We didn’t even get to the venue until like two hours before the wedding. I hadn’t done any of the photography. I hadn’t even gotten my dress cleaned or steamed – and I didn’t know where it was. I hadn’t changed, or done my hair, or make-up. I hadn’t even picked the actual ceremony area at the venue! But the funny thing was… I was pretty nonchalant about it all. I was freaking out on the inside, but shrugging it all off on the outside. I kept saying “It’ll work out… I’m not stressing… Not a big deal… I don’t care” and things of that nature. So at least dream-me is committed to not being a bridezilla.

Sheesh… I totally forgot about another dream I had a few nights ago, until just now – in that one, Mike’s tux didn’t fit. Next time can I at least get some freakin’ zombies or something? COME ON!

Okay, I’m going to sleep now… I haven’t been able to sleep, and I think I’m finally tired enough.

Okay, I didn’t want to be all “Buy us presents, hurrr!” but since ParatrooperJJ asked…

Yes, we are registered for the wedding, at Bed, Bath and Beyond, Target and TheThingsIWant.com. (Hot links should take you directly to each list – otherwise, you can search by my name.)

We would also happily accept a Barrett Model 82A1/M107 or a $3.9 million dollar ranch in Wyoming. Just sayin’. *wink*

Anybody out there?

I’m trying to type with acrylic nails on one hand and natural nails with almost no length on the other… It feels odd. This isn’t standard behavior, by the way – I was inspired to take my yearly run at the guitar (this will last approximately three days) so it was off the left-hand nails.

On the subject of music: while I doubt I’ll ever reach Jemi Hendrix levels on the guitar, I really do want to learn to play the fiddle/violin. I discovered Miri Ben-Ari today, and while I’m normally not a hip-hop fan, I find the hip-hop violin to be awesome.

Anyhoo, I’m attempting to FreeCycle-acquire a violin, and if that fails, I’ll probably get the family violin from down in CA and have it re-strung and whatnot. My current plan is to teach myself (yay, teh intarwebs!) like I have every other time I’ve learned an instrument… but if I really take to this one, who knows – I may actually pursue instruction.

Wedding planning is plodding along. I’ll be headed up to the wedding location next weekend to scope out the florist, tux rentals, actual ceremony location, etc. Still need to work out the officiant… I am seriously considering asking a friend to get ordained and do it. (Yay, teh intarwebs yet again!) I just have a major hang-up against asking an actual religious officiant to do it, when I’m not intimately familiar with that individual’s theology. I would certainly hate to pick a name out of the phone book and unknowingly choose a Doug Wilson or worse. You’d be surprised what kind of folks call themselves Christians… especially in northern Idaho. Frankly, I think a beloved friend asking for God’s blessing on our union is going to garner more favor upstairs than inadvertently having someone waving the banner of Christianity – but preaching all the wrong things – having any part of my wedding. We’ll see how it goes.

I can’t recall if I covered this or not… but I’m 99.9% sure I’ve found the major I’ll be graduating with: journalism. I’ll also have a minor in history. The good news is… I have a major! The bad news is I’m not sure if I will be able to graduate spring ‘08 as scheduled… I think I will have to at LEAST get some credits summer ‘08 (either via class or an internship) and I may just have to graduate fall ‘08. My problem at this point is I’m taking the reporting pre-requisite this fall, and I’m also waitlisted on two of the advance classes I need. I think my media writing instructor will vouch for me and help me get into them, but that’s not a guarantee, and even if I do I will be pushing the envelope with like 18 credits per semester.

Oh yeah – those nine summer credits I was taking simultaneously? A’s in all of them. That’s the first 4.0 I’ve pulled in college. :) I really kicked ass in my media writing class (with the aforementioned supportive instructor), and that’s what led me to believe I’ve found my calling in journalism. Of course, lots of y’all who have known me for any length of time called that one long ago, but… what can I say? I’m stubborn.

Speaking of stubborn, I’ve finally decided to get off my lazy ass, eat right, and work out. (Warning: I’m about to defy every law of being female.) Exactly one week ago, I weighed 141.2 lbs. That’s not like, “Zomg lardass!” or anything, but I’m 5′6″ and it was approaching pretty not-hot proportions. So I cut the soda. And potato chips. And the everything-I-see-after-8-p.m.-I-must-eat. All the experts say you shouldn’t lose more than 2 lbs. per week, but uh… sorry guys. I just stopped eating crap and promptly dropped like… 10. Well, between 10 and 15. I’m kind of bouncing between 126.4 and 128.6 right now; at this very moment I’m on the high end thanks to kind of going off the wagon for the weekend. Thing is, I feel gross when I eat bad food now. I don’t really want to, I just need to find more healthy options because I get bored fast.

Mike and I also took up tennis, I’m doing some cardio at the gym, and he’s supposed to start instructing me on proper Olympic lifting techniques. (*Cough, cough* – that’s your cue, honey!) I’m finally convinced that I can lift heavy and not look like a female bodybuilder unless I try… I’m learning more about cutting and bulking and competition prep, and I understand now that looking like what women are always afraid of looking like (i.e. men) requires an actual intention to look that way. And like, 4% body fat. And usually some pretty intense dehydration. Eww.

Anyway, Jelena Abbou is my new role model. She’s my height, which makes me think hey – I can look like that if I want to actually try! I’ve seen some competition pics of her that are of the “Oh… no. No, not good.” variety, but when she’s in the off-season and actually has a healthy level of body fat… well:

Anybody gonna complain if my next round of gun pics involves a stomach like that? Anybody? No? Didn’t think so.

It’s apparently time to hit the hay… Work tomorrow, le sigh. I look forward to becoming independently wealthy. Now I just have to figure out how to go about that…

I’m getting married two months from today.

Weird.

I guess this means I have to actually buckle down and find things like an officiant, and flowers… I’m still lobbying for an internet-ordained Sgt. V doing it, but Mike thought that was weird. Sgt. V would probably find it pretty strange too.

My dress showed up, and I managed to try it on with only a bit of help – it’s gorgeous and poofy and hot. Like, pouring-sweat kind of hot. I really hope it’s not five billion degrees on the 4th. The only real downside to the dress is the fact it fits me really, really well right now, which does not bode well for any in-shape-getting or weight-lossing I was planning in the next two months. I think I will be okay since it is primarily held up by being very tight in the ribs/torso, and there isn’t a whole lot to lose there, but I was hoping it would be a wee bit small so I’d have more motivation. I actually look great in it as=is – it’s how I look not in it that makes me raise the ol’ eyebrows.

My dear friend Morgan helped me put together our invitations on Saturday, so those are at least ready to go out – well, I have to spend an arm and a leg on stamps first, and then address them, and then send them… but they’re assembled. It’s a start.

Anyway, I best be off to my next class, and I think my Mission of the Day after that will be to make an honest-to-goodness to-do list for the rest of my wedding stuff… and start checking some shizzle off.