Friday, December 30, 2005

Dress Like It's Your Last Day

It’s one of my coworkers’ last days here. And for her last day, she chose to wear...a sweatsuit. That's right. You heard me. RED. VELVET. SWEATSUIT. Part of me wishes I have the guts to wear something like that on my last day. There’s something utterly awesome about not caring enough to dress in socially appropriate attire. A full-on fashion disaster cocktail. 2 parts confidence, 3 parts craziness, and a splash of alcohol from lunch, poured over a whole lot of "I don’t care because I’m moving to Florida in a week with my boyfriend." Shaken. Not stirred.

Part of me just feels bad. Whatever the case, it was awesome to see. If it weren’t for my 0.00000003 megapixel phone camera taking ridiculously blurry pics, you’d be right there with me (pic looks like a giant red blob). Got to get a new phone.

Looking forward to 2006, I think. Headed to Corduroy with some friends for New Year’s Eve, and then spending New Years Day watching and wishing for a Redskins win and playoff birth. Yes, I know. I’m a little late in the wishing department. Christmas has already past. But quite frankly, I could use another gift or two. After all, it was my birthday. And the Xbox 360 and plasma are on back order.

Monday, December 12, 2005

The Fellowship of the Ring

It’s not that I have nothing to say.

Far from it, there are hundreds of threads I’d like to unwind. For those of you who know me, you know I’m a talker. But for those of you who really know me, you know I’m much more of a thinker. And sometimes, the two don’t willingly go hand in hand. Especially, when you’re grappling with the enormous changes that marriage brings.

Of the many questions that I have gotten since I’ve been back, the most common one has been, “What’s the hardest thing to adjust to now that you’re married?” They expect to hear comments like, “I can’t play the Xbox whenever I want to”, or “I don’t have any time to myself.” But while it’s easy to talk about all of the typical things you might observe in the first couple of weeks, the thing that has been most difficult to adjust to is actually something much more simple and mundane – wearing a ring.

I should first off say this – I am not a jewelry kind of guy. I actually lost 3 watches in a month when I was in junior high school (including one extra-fancy watch with electronic games built into it (I kid you not)), and never put one on again. So it goes without saying that rings are not my style. They always seemed too expensive and gaudy. In fact, truth be told, I wasn’t really looking forward to wearing one. You wouldn’t have caught me trying it on before the wedding and looking at myself in the mirror.

The first thing that I noticed after wearing a ring for a day was how heavy it was. When I spoke with my jeweler about what my wedding band should look like, I gave him only two words. Simple. Platinum. I picked out my ring after being at the store for less than 5 minutes. There was something utterly comfortable with the concept of a ring being both simple and extravagant. But truthfully, I wasn't ready for the weight of it.

The second thing I noticed was that while it was a perfect circle, my finger was not. The ring is tight in some places, loose in others. It feels weird. Foreign. Depending on the time of day, it can feel downright constricting. So much so that I find myself taking it off often, if even for a minute. In fact, as I type this, the ring is sitting beside the keyboard on my desk. Not because I don’t like it, but because it still feels funny on my hand. And while I refuse to believe that this small fact can be extrapolated into some broader, categorical statement about being married, I can’t help but see some similarities. In a sense, marriage feels funny to me.

Still, when I remark to married people that the ring feels a bit uncomfortable on my finger, they all say the same thing.

"It takes a while to get used to it."

Interesting.

Several of my friends have told me about newer, more comfortable wedding bands. One of them wants a ring made out of tungsten carbide because it can be sterilized (he’s a doctor). Another told me about wedding bands made out of titanium that are so light, you can barely feel them. All things being equal though, I think I’ll stick with the one I have. Because in the end, if nothing else, I think I want to feel the ring. I want to feel its weight, reminding me that I made promises. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health. Promises that are just as weighty. Promises I fully intend to keep.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Thanks to my blog getting out into the general public and being found by a large number of spamming sites, I am now being forced to approve comments before they are published. So feel free to leave as many comments as you’d like. I’ll get to them, I promise.