it hath been too longeth

Well, here I am. Feeling like it's a good time to write. Sometimes I just itch to write something even though I have no idea what about and I just watch the body of text grow and grow under my fingertips until I decide it's high time to go do something useful like fold those two heaping baskets of laundry right next to me. But lets pretend those aren't there, shall we?

What if I tried a subject I've always figured was too awkward to tackle? Like getting married!

This may sound surprising to you, but there's a slight chance I'll get married someday. If I don't die or become a nun before then it may very well happen. Ever since I was little,

I've thought of a "husband" as a big grown-up male individual, who had a beard and would basically be like a second Dad.

And the thought of him introducing me with: "oh, and here's my little wife," made me envision a short and stout version of myself in a homeschool-mom-denim-jumper-with-crew-socks-under-velcro-sandals.

Alas. Welcome to the inside of my head.

Why do I always see the future me as not me? At age seventeen, I feel more me than ever, but I always forgot to imagine that when I was twelve dreading seventeen. I wonder what a 90 year old me would be like. I want to say ugh, but I shouldn't because I know when I'm 90 I'll feel insulted.

So anyway, I guess a married me would still be one hundred percent me. But I still have those stupid little worries, like "what if my husband's overweight and snores like a vacuum cleaner, and what if I get grumpy and stay a terrible cook all my life?" Really rational worries, like that.

I guess my current perspective is one of complacent contentedness. I like having my own room and personal bubble of sacred space. I already have a brother around to answer the classic "does this make me look fat" question. I have wonderful friends and I'm busy, so why ever marry?

Of course, now and then, the thought of being an old maid is mortifying and the thought of having a little-little baby all of my own to hold sounds exhilarating, so contentedness is sort of moody, but for the most part I'm settled. :D

I already picked a wedding dress. Well, not really. I have an ideeaa, but it's probably morbidly expensive. I do think it would be cool if the imaginary "he" would wear something nifty in the wedding like this shirt:

That would make my day.

So, I guess this post just goes to show how foolish and ignorant I am about growing up and getting married. I figure if I document my silliness now, I can look back and feel like I've made some progress someday.

In conclusion*, you'll always be changing, but no matter where you are in life, you will always be you. The End. Thankyou, Thankyouverymuch.

*I figured this post needed something profound and purposeful-sounding.