last wedding related rant ever. promise.
last wedding related rant ever. promise.
Perhaps I should take today as an omen.
We get to the DMV. Rather, where the DMV used to be. I called my brother in law and asked him if I had lost my mind. The DMV moved, he said. I call my sister at work, who kindly interrupts the game she was playing to look up the DMV address for me. Ok, wrong town. U-Turn. Drive back a few miles the other way.
We get to the DMV and it looks good. Not much of a wait. I fill out my papers, Justin fills out his, I get a new picture taken even though I have this stupid scrape on my chin. I sort of move my hair in front of it and look down. The nice, elderly, robotic-like DMV clerk tells me to smile. I grimace. Flash.
Justin is having a problem. He needs four points worth of current ID. He has two. He looks down the list. Nope. Nope. Nope. He says to the lady, oh look, if I go buy myself a gun I can come back with the gun license and get my ID. The lady says, or shoot me. She smiles. A little too wide.
So he's not getting what he needs today at the DMV. I, however, get my license renewed. I finally take my married name off of it and go back to my maiden name (I'm not taking Justin's name, for various reasons, one of them being that no one ever knows how to pronounce it). I turn in my old license and away we go. Next stop, Town Hall.
Oh, dear! Says the condesending snobby bitch at Town Hall. You need to have a photo ID or you can't get a marriage license. I explain that my new driver's license won't come in the mail for another two weeks. She asks me why I don't have my work ID with me. Because I'm not at work. I don't usually carry around a laminated fascimile of myself that's hanging on a 20 inch chain unless I'm really going to need it. Like, to get into work. Which Town Hall is not.
So, no marriage license. I could have gone home and retreived my work photo ID, but that would mean leaving Hempstead and coming back within a space of one hour, and being that I drive to Hemsptead (aka Downtown Beruit) every day for work, I am not doing it again.
There we are in the parking lot of Town Hall, sitting in the car and talking about where to go to lunch. A head appears in the window. Hi! The head is saying. Hi! How are you?!? I look to the cheery head and see it's my ex husband's girfriend. Guess what her name is? Yep, Michele. One L, too. Just like me.
She chats it up with me, introduces herself to Justin and says the kids are really excited about the big day, you know! Yea, I know. Because they are my kids. I don't need their future stepmother telling me that they are excited about my wedding.
Ok, it was nice of her to stop and talk like that. I'm happy that we could be cordial to each other. Especially because if my ex knew that she was being friendly to me, he would have a fit. And she knows I know that, so this was like our little secret kind of thing. You know damn well he would kill me for talking to you, but I'm doing it anyhow, maybe just to spite him. Wink, wink.
And then there was the overly long wait for lunch and the waitress who lives the phrase ignorance is bliss and the three hour shopping trip with Natalie in which I found nothing to wear but found a Betsey Johnson dress for Natalie and it was on sale. And I forced her to buy it. First she tried on this thing with fringes and then she tried on this thing that made her look like Natalie Portman in The Professional, as I predicted, and then she tried on the Betsey Johnson and I said. Stop. Collaborate. Listen.
No, I didn't. I said, we are buying that. You look adorable. You look twelve, not eighteen and you are twelve so that's the dress. Shut up. Shut...I said shut...stop...no...that will be cash...stop crying, Natalie....cooperation...you look great in the dress.....thank you, have a nice evening.....if you wear this dress I'll get you those shoes you wanted.....yes, cooperation.....no, that's not bribery it's compromising....look it up.
And somehow, I don't know how, we ended up in the pet store looking at hamsters.
If today was any kind of omen about the wedding or the subsequent years after the wedding, I am frightened. Or maybe the whole day is just a microcosm of our relationship anyhow, where we have had to overcome all kinds of things to get where we are but we keep perservering until........whatever.
I need a drink. Or a lobotomy.