Stealing my wedding band

I wore my wedding band on Friday. Okay, so I totally cheated, shoot me. Stew said I shouldn't have it until I successfully make it down the aisle. He says it's my reward for going through with it. I say, "what is my reward for cooking dinner four nights out of the week, cleaning the bathrooms, picking up snotty tissues he leaves laying around and wiping pee of my seat. Not to mention sometimes having to actually put the seat down?" And he smiles, when I ask this and bats his eyes like that's my reward. Whatever skippy, I'm not that easy!

I'm only wearing it because my engagement ring is too lose and when my hands get cold (which every minute of every day) I am afraid it is going to fly off and take someone's eye out. and I am in the in the position (daily) where a hundred lawyers would descend upon the now eye-less person shoving their cards in his/her face. So,i wear my band as a guard of sorts which furthers my case that i need another one to wear behind it where a wedding band normally goes - closest to your heart.

The first couple of days I had such a gift in my presence I stared at it and was reminded that soon I would be married. I did the same with my engagement ring but now with T minus 127 days, the shock of that ring lost its luster. It reminds me that soon I will walk down the aisle in my pretty pretty dress I am unable to breathe to marry this messy boy who slowly but surely scooped up my heart like he was making a mud pie. Granted, i can barely remember to call him my fiancee, but does that matter? It also reminds me that dating life is well behind me and affords me the opportunity to look back on it with some perspective that i should have been using at the time.

i am pleased to report that i have successfully managed to block out all boyfriend except the last couple. This is not because they were so great that i could never forget them, but rather they are the freshest. I was unpleasantly reminded of Jersey Boy this past week when Stew told me my Yankee Candle addiction was teetering on the edge of needing rehab. Considering the case of gaming minis that arrive at our doorstep weekly, I'd say i am able to quit at any time but choose not to. He suggested buying candles from his friend who sells them and with a discount. I immediately boiled because during one of my last trips to Jersey, I spent $21.00 on some fruit punch candle from JB's friend and the following week we broke up. He claimed she was going to send me the candle but she never did. Not that I think Stew is going to break up with me, but it is the association I don't need if he wants to start this marriage off right. I warned him I held grudges and they don't even have to be against the person who fucked up.

Anyway, it got me thinking about Jersey Boy and how insane it was that i dated someone who not only lived in a trailer but had some of the trashiest friends I have ever seen. I used to tell JB all the time that we came from two different worlds, mine being Fairfield County and his being a place where it was okay for your home to have a title. Eventho I think sometimes Stew's friends and I are worlds apart, it's only because I don't take part in their favorite activity - boozing my face off. But all the common things are there like good jobs, the fact we'd rather have nicer things in life rather than a car stereo that could register as an earthquake. And camping is our idea of hell not fun.

I remembered one Jersey outing in particular. We were hanging out in his friend's backyard for something. Al their kids were running loose and one little girl was alone in the pool. She was the outcast child, mainly because she didn't belong to anyone there. It was JB's roommate's daughter and his roommate was MIA as usual and this little girl's stripper mom was MIA as well. The little girl was playing with dolls - a Ken and Barbie. She was making barbie slap Ken and demand money from him berating him that she knew he had it and he should give it to her and buy her things. One of JB's friends looked at her, looked at JB and said, "I see she is learning from her mama." Everyone laughed. Even more. But out of sheer embarrassment for this poor child who was really hell in two pink high-tops.

But looking back.

PHEW!