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Saturday, March 8, 2008

Casandra: On Writing Our Own Vows

Yeah, so the subject was broached only once and then tossed aside. Mainly because yours truly cannot remain serious in the most dire of circumstances. If I were being tortured, or my life threatened, and my very existence was hinged upon my need to make one sincere statement... I'm afraid I would have officially drawn my last breath after I uttered whatever inane or sarcastic thing that parted my lips.

Besides, even in a moment of intense seriousness people tend to believe I've shifted into my highest level of sarcasm. I usually have to preempt a moment like this with, "And I'm being serious when I say this...". That particular phrase generally leads people to believe I'm about to spout forth the biggest line of bullshit they have ever heard. So wouldn't that have been a lovely beginning to some wedding vows?

Imagine what my vows would have looked like in comparison to Michael's. My dear Michael, who is capable of producing words seemingly dripping with honey. He would have devoted months to writing the most eloquent vows of his love for me. Perhaps he would have intermingled fragments of love sonnets into them. Or taken a line from our song in order to make it more personal. The entire time he has a vision in his head of the words he has composed moving me to tears, as I look lovingly upon his face; and somehow he just knows that I'm thinking how very lucky I am to be with such a caring and doting man.

Those vows would have been beautiful no doubt... it might have stirred me to tears. More than likely it would have resulted in me calling "bullshit" in the middle the ceremony and I would have crushed his vision. Especially if he went first and then he had to hear what I had written.

First, for months I would have sat staring with a dumbfounded look upon my face at a piece of paper with the worst case of writer's block ever to have struck an individual. There probably would have been spittle dripping out of the corner of my mouth onto a dreadfully bare page. That drool would have eventually turned into a white frothy foam that would have had my Mack rushing me to the hospital, convinced that I had a case of rabies. Which I could have used as an excuse to not write my vows, but I would have seen him working so diligently upon his own that I would have felt guilty.

In fact, here it is the end of January and I know I'd still be staring at a blank page hoping for some sort of inspiration to strike. Until becoming aware of a certain bit of disconcerting news days ago... Inspiration from my weird way of connecting things has come.

Here are the vows, finally, the months of ponderance have brought to me...

10 Things I Hate About You

I hate it when you've got your head up your ass, a case of extreme HUHAS.
I hate it when you leave the toilet seat up, and I get a cold wet ass.
I hate that you spend more time in front of the mirror, primping for your day.
I hate it that you highlighted your hair, and went the fake bake way.
I hate it that you leave me waiting, when I'm anal about being on time.
I even hate the way you've made me write my vows that unexplicably rhyme.
I hate it that I've lost the bet, with My Dear Old Pops.
All I had to do was wait him out, asshole; now I owe him props.
I hate the way you place an order haphazardly at the drive-thru,
That it's my order that gets jacked up, and you just sit and chew.
I hate that you have half my closet, and there is no room for my shoes,
I especially hate that we even met because now "I fucking love you".

Now, I'm not sure if this would have been appropriate. But I'm pretty damn certain that it would have upstaged anything that my Mack could have written. I managed to combine the element of poetry and also to convey the fact that in spite of all his little annoying nuances I still love him. To me those are quite possibly the most perfect vows ever written. I think I'm going to cry...

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