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Friday, August 31, 2007

This train don't carry no gamblers

I've begun packing my things for the epic journey to the in-laws. Sunny (frying, actually) Southern California. Wait, you say -- your Peak Oil geekiness means no planes. Well, sure. So we're taking the Coast Starlight.

I should mention that while my in-laws are great fun, and I love them and they love me, I'm new to them again after thirty years; in fact Beloved's dad has not seen me in person since I was someone else. So I'm panicking. New dress, new shoes, new hair, last-minute gifts chosen with care. I even tried an online test to be sure I'm still the kind of person they would like: "Should Your Guy Bring You Home To Meet Mom?" Results are good so far:

Yes, He Should Bring You Home To Mom!

You're classy, well-mannered, and you have great social skills. And you're definitely sure to impress your guy's parents. If he doesn't bring you home to meet mom, he's crazy!

Beloved is, of course, not my "guy" but it was the best I could do. We have had a few go-arounds about all this. We both claim Mrs. as our title, and neither of us wants to be "husband" and while we both kind of like to be "wife" neither likes to call the other that to other people. So "partner" does get used sometimes, but "spouse" is increasingly popular.

I tell her she makes a great husband but her response to that is to tell me to get lost...

This staying married while redesigning one of the spouses to be someone she should, fifty years ago, have somehow had the option to be, does have its moments -- we like the cute little lesbian "brides" we got for the 30th anniversary cake that neither of has yet had the time to bake, for example -- but there's no denying that it's confusing to us. So why wouldn't it be, to relatives? There are some moments to be lived through yet.

So I'm agonizing over the little gifts, and the what-to-wear, because, you see, family matters.

On that I agree with Dr. Dobson.



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