Marriage Does Not an Adult Make

Flash back a few days to me scrolling aimlessly through Facebook. My attention was caught by a sweepstakes to win a designer wedding gown, and not just any designer, but Monique Lhuillier, for the love of all things white and lacy. Of course I clicked the link to enter, and I realized that all I had to do was start a wedding registry with what happened to be one of my favorite home-good stores, and I was in the running for my dream gown. (Mind you, I couldn’t currently tell you the name of a specific Monique silhouette that I love, but that is beside the point. I have never won anything; this just seemed like a great way to avoid homework. There, I said it).

Seeing as Paul and I are at about the time frame when we need to start a registry, I figured, “why the hell not?”, “How hard could it be?” I thought, as I dove into casual dining collections, bakeware and cookware, cutlery, and bathroom essentials. Not going to lie… three or four pages in I started to freak out and found myself reaching repeatedly for my glass of wine. Did we really need new measuring cups? What about fine china? How many place settings? I HATE gravy! Will I ever need a gravy bowl? Where do I even start?

“Start with what you know” I found my own PR voice in my head whispering as I tapped a finger on my wine glass.

On my wine glass…

It was so simple…

I clicked on “glassware” and went straight to the wine glasses. I may not know if I need fine china, but I know for sure exactly what I DO need:


Olivia Pope wine glasses. Wine. Solves. Everything.

Many people seem to think that getting married is some sort of gateway into adulthood. False, my friends. In fact, I feel less like an adult, because I have someone else who is technically responsible for my well being. Guess who is going to make sure I make it to the end of the day alive? My hubs. Not that I am taking this as an excuse to be reckless, but the immature side of me feels like now I have a tag team member to be twice as immature with.

Just because I am getting married does not mean that I know how many place settings I am going to need or what all those insane torture devices are in the baking section of Bed Bath and Beyond. I haven’t grown up; it just means that I have found someone who legally wants to be bound to my childlike ways.

I am hoping I don’t feel like this if we ever have a child. Like “hey, we added a third member to our idiot mob!”

In the mean time, let it be known that the first thing that I registered for were red wine glasses, a la Olivia Pope… followed by champagne flutes. Eight of each, because that just sounded good.

I can grow up next year 🙂 And I will ask Paul about the gravy boat. He likes gravy.


“My Best Friend’s Wedding”

While getting some work done this morning, I decided to put on an old favorite flick of mine for some back ground noise, “My Best Friend’s Wedding”.  

I love this movie. It’s charming, set in my favorite city, and hilarious.  

This movie came out when I was in middle school, and I remember thinking about how Julia Roberts and Dermot Mulroney just had it together. They are on the verge of turning 28 and they just seemed to be so adult!

Julia has a great job as a food writer, lives in Manhattan, and alas, is not married 3 weeks before her 28th birthday.  28 seemed so adult to me!  A great point to have your life together, career set (I was never focused on needing to be married yet, that has never phased me), but man, 28!  So far off at the time, and I don’t want to call it “old”, because I never thought of it like that, but again, just so “adult”. 

Yet here I am, 3 months away from my 29th birthday, feeling so not adult.  I realize that adult is completely a frame of mind, but it is just funny to me to think of how the perception of age changes as we get older.  

I don’t think most people ever think of themselves as adults.  We are just a bunch of 14-year-olds with car keys and checking accounts.  

As a kid, a teen, even in my early twenties I kept expecting there to be a birthday when I finally felt like an adult. 18? Legally an adult and can purchase porn, lottery tickets and tobacco. 21? Can legally drink.  23?  Just seemed like a good number to me for adulthood to begin. 25? Can rent a car. 27 for sure would be adulthood.  

But no, here I am, almost 29, and fairly content with the fact that no matter what kind of car I have, where my career is at, or what my level of responsibility is, I will never have the “adult” mind frame.  

In my eyes, the best adults never do.