The Vine: January 31, 2006
Hi, Sars,
I’m in an awesome relationship. Truly, things are great — we’ve been
together two years, made it through a rocky adjustment to post-college
life together, our families are supportive, it’s super. Really super.
But not so super that we’re ready to get married. We’ve talked about
it on a surface level, and we still feel too young for that kind of a
commitment, not to mention that I have serial monogamist tendencies
and two years is only a mid-length relationship by my standards. We’re
in total agreement on this, no pressure from either side. Super.
Except. We’re known to go out and have a few drinks. Sometimes more
than a few drinks. And when Boyfriend has more than a few drinks, he
sometimes likes to talk marriage. He’ll make insinuations: “I see us
being together for a long time. I mean, a loooooong time.” He’ll come
right out with it: “You’re the girl I’m gonna marry.” He’ll even go so
far as to put a time frame on it: “Sometime in the next few years,
you’re gonna get a question.” And sometimes, he says these things to
friends of mine, who report these things back to me.
When this started a year or so ago, I wrote it off as some stupid
drunken statement and let it slide. I was also a little afraid to
bring it up, because I was not ready to even begin to consider
marriage for myself at that point. But as our relationship has
continued, and I’ve gotten more comfortable, I’ve been able to
jokingly remind him about the things he said the other night at that
bar. His response is usually along the lines of, “Well, I still mean
it.” And then we have to reaffirm that no, we’re not ready for that
level of commitment, maybe sometime in the future, for now living in
sin with the cat is perfect, blah.
Sars, it’s not that I’m still afraid of marrying the guy. Honestly,
sometimes it’s fun to daydream about it. But I’m having trouble
getting excited about the actual proposal part of the story, because
while I’ve never had any girly fantasies about my wedding, I’ve always
envisioned a very romantic and meaningful proposal. And, well, now I
kind of know it’s coming, and it makes me sad that I’ll be missing
that element of surprise. Not to mention that I’m much more
comfortable just living and enjoying the life we share together now,
without all this quasi-marriage business hanging over my head.
Sometimes, he’ll leave food out or forget to send the cable bill, and
I’ll blow it totally out of proportion because I’m imagining a
lifetime of fruit flies and late fees.
I’ve called Boyfriend out on all this, letting him know that yes,
marriage is a huge and stressful subject to get into, but that I think
it’s a punk move on his part to bring these things up while he’s
getting his courage from Budweiser, but he still does it every so
often. Obviously it’s not a deal-breaker or anything I’d consider
ending our relationship over, but still: enough with the nuptials,
Drunky.
So, the questions: Am I just being unnecessarily girly about the
proposal? If not, how can I get it through Boyfriend’s head that he
needs to stop already? It kind of cheapens the whole “lifelong
commitment” thing to bring it up between rounds during the NFL
commercial break, right? Or do I just need to let go of the romantic
comedy scenario I’m imagining and get real?
Blushing Non-Bride
Dear Blush,
I think you need to let it go. Whether you’re being too girly or not isn’t really the issue — yeah, it’s a little girlier than I’d be about it, but you’re you and I’m me, and not everyone has to have the same feelings about marriage proposals. You feel how you feel. But the horse is out of the barn already. He can’t unsay these things, and you can’t unhear them, and unless you want to break up with this guy and start fresh with a different guy? One who plays his proposal cards closer to the vest, so you can be surprised? You need to live with it.
If he’s talking about marriage but not doing anything about it, yes, you should probably be a bit more forceful about shutting him down, just because you’re sick of having to have the same conversation about it, but…he’s not going to surprise you. He can’t. And honestly, at a certain point in a relationship, I don’t think it’s necessarily a heart-stopping surprise when the ring appears no matter what has or hasn’t been said prior to that time — when you both feel strongly about each other and you’ve already made certain emotional commitments. You know? It’s fine to want it to be romantic, but I think you also have to acknowledge the reality, which is that you love each other and you already live together, and if you’re looking for an out-of-left-field shock, that’s…probably not going to happen.
The other thing to consider is that he makes an issue of it because you’re so resistant. It’s like he’s trying to figure out where you’re at with it, and the more you balk, the more he feels compelled to do it again. So, maybe the answer here, on both levels, is to just stop making such a big deal about it either way.
Dear Sarah,
Never thought I’d write with a problem, but here I am –- the ‘rents. Specifically, how they can’t ever visit me, my husband and our son.
They live in small-town western Pennsylvania; we live on the west side of Chicago. It’s a nine-hour trip. They’re in their sixties, though healthy and spry. My mother has never been on a plane; I don’t expect her to get on one anytime soon. Before our son was born, we didn’t care. We lived in New York City for four years (hail Park Slope, though we were in Riverdale) and we drove the ten-hour trip three times a year to see them. Not once did they come to see us. We moved to Chicago; same thing. As soon as we had our son, well, that was different, for a little while. When our son was born in 2003, they came out to see him (via Greyhound) after Thanksgiving and after Christmas. They came out again in October 2004, when we bought a house. In between, nothing. If we want to see them, we have to go to them.
We have been back to their place five times since our two-year-old was born (which goes like this: we leave after work, stay in a hotel, then get to PA by lunch. We stay in a hotel on the way back too, since long car trips are impossible with a small child). It’s expensive and tedious. We’ve given them a standing invitation to come see us. Nothing. I know that an open invitation means that they have to invite themselves, which can be awkward, so I regularly lay it out for them: e.g., “we have these three weekends free, whichever is/are convenient for you, we’d love to have you.” Nope. They’re retired musicians and gig all around with their string quintet, and there is always a wedding or a church service or something to which they’ve already committed.
I don’t think it’s about money. Granted, they’re very careful with it, but they’re shrewd about saving and investing and have a decent amount of disposable income. They’ve spent a ton on great stuff for our son, and are always, always thanked.
Anyway. My husband and I have taken a long look at our finances, and we just can’t afford to go see them this year. Mortgage, daycare, car repairs, student loan, blah blah whineycakes; but dammit, we were in debt when we first got married, we got out of it, and by God we’ll get out of it again. Even crappy old Econolodge outside Toledo is $75 a night; then factor in outrageous gas prices. I’ve taken the bull by the horns and told my parents last week that we can’t afford to come out there, but we’d love to see them, so we have these days off, what do they think? I knew there would be one issue, being my ninety-two-year-old grandmother whom they go visit and stay with for at least a day or two. That’s fine. Surely, though, given the two-week period I mentioned, they can squeeze in a visit, even if they have a gig to play?
No go, it looks like. When I read that, I nearly started to cry. I know they’re getting old; I know they don’t want to drive (I don’t want them to either), I know Greyhound sucks and Amtrak is expensive -– at least by their standards –- but what the hell? I mean, I’m sorry we live so far away, but even that is going to change for them: as soon as my husband and I are vested in a few years (retirement issue), we’re going to move to Pittsburgh so we can be near them and they can see their grandson. Sars, it’s all about them –- our vacation time is planned around them, all year long we look for weekends to invite them and things to do that they’d enjoy; our professional lives are planned around them.
I feel so selfish sometimes and tell myself that they’re older, travel isn’t fun, they have to take time off too (from gigs), yadda fucking yadda. I’m sick of this mantra. They’re not blind, deaf, or otherwise infirm, they don’t work full-time, they don’t have to request vacation time, they have more disposable income than we do, and they get senior citizen discounts anyway, they don’t have to care for a two-year-old when they travel. So here’s the question: am I being unreasonable? I’ve totally lost perspective.
Sincerely,
I never expected it to be easy, but for Chrissakes I can wish it was
Dear Easy,
Unreasonable to find this state of affairs annoying and hurtful, no. Unreasonable to expect anything to change if you haven’t said any of this to your parents? Afraid so.
I don’t see any mention in your letter of your actually telling your parents, in so many words, “We have really made the lion’s share of the effort re: visiting, we feel like our lives are premised around your free time and your unwillingness to come see us, and we are hurt — not to mention inconvenienced — that we aren’t the same priority for you. This is exhausting and unworkable for us right now and something’s got to change.”
You can certainly phrase it in a way that’s more empathetic to their issues regarding travel and scheduling, but really: you’ve bent over backwards for them, and you’re sick of it. Can’t you just say so? Or start acting on it — give them the hint? Because, you know, of course they’re not going to make the effort, because they know that if they don’t, or if they make noises about the inconvenience, you’ll give in and come to them. Might be time to stop doing that.
I know you love your parents and you want them to have a relationship with their grandchild, but they have to make some effort on their end, and if they won’t, you have to stop making up the difference for them. Spend some holidays and vacations on your own. Travel somewhere else for once. Your parents know where to find you. And if what you’re really afraid of is that they won’t make the effort when the chips are down, well, that would suck, but maybe that just needs to happen so you can deal with it, instead of driving ten hours each way trying to prevent it. You know?
This cord needs cutting, I think.
O mighty Sars,
I have a bit of a problem.
I am in my early twenties, and have had a mild form of
epilepsy since I was fourteen or so. It took a long
time to get it under control with medication and
surgery, but it is now not so much of an obvious
problem. Yay!
However. I couldn’t get my license when I was a
teenager because of the uncontrolled seizures; I live
in the NJ suburbs, so it was fairly annoying that I
always needed someone to drive me around instead of
being able to go places myself. So I (and all my
“chauffeurs”) looked forward to the day I could get
my license. Now that I am able to, I have discovered
that I…don’t want to. I have almost no spatial
sense and am always bumping into things; finding
mysterious bruises is a regular occurrence. I got my
learner’s permit, but the lack of spatial sense seems
to be making me a pretty crappy driver. I know, I
know, practice is important. But the real reason I
don’t want to drive is that I am just not comfortable
with it. My seizures are controlled, but I still
don’t want to be driving around near people. It’s
probably not rational, I know.
Anyway. I’m probably going to be living in cities for
most of the rest of my life anyhow. The current issue
is that people keep on asking about it. It irritates me to no end
when people ask me how I’m doing epilepsy-wise, but I
know that they’re asking because they spent a lot of
time worrying about me when I was trying to find a
treatment that worked, and they really do want to make
sure I’m healthy now. But “So do you have your
license now? No? Why not?” has begun popping up in
conversation, and I don’t know how I should deal with
it. Saying “No, I don’t” makes them worried that
something ELSE is wrong, and I don’t want to get into
the “I’m not comfortable with it” territory, because
it just leads to more questions about “Why?”
Insatiable curiosity/nosiness is a family trait.
Sars, am I being a wimp for not getting my license?
Am I being a brat for not wanting to explain
everything in detail for my relatives? There are many
of them, and they all took really good care of me and
my parents and sister when I was in the hospital, and
I love them madly, but I just don’t want to go into it
constantly, especially now that “So what treatment are
you on now, and is it working?” is finally no longer
an active topic.
Sorry for all the run-on sentences and possible
spelling errors.
I’d Really Rather Talk About What I’m Planning To Do
With The Rest Of My Life, Thanks
Dear You’ll Get Sick Of That Subject Soon Enough Too, Trust Me,
“No, I don’t. … It’s just not a priority for me right now, no need to be concerned. … Like I said, it’s just not a priority for me right now, no need to be concerned. … Like I said, it’s just not a priority for me right now, no need to be concerned.” Lather, rinse, repeat, change subject.
If you don’t want to talk about something, don’t talk about it. Be polite, start talking about something else, whatever, but you are not in fact required to discuss things that aren’t other people’s business if you don’t care to.
As for actually getting your license…I am the clumsiest person in this zip code, probably, and I can drive just fine, but if you don’t feel ready, that’s your choice, and you shouldn’t push yourself. It’s a one-ton motor vehicle; why mess around. The DMV isn’t going anywhere, so if you change your mind in a few years, you can get your license then. But in the meantime, it’s not a priority for you right now. And I am not concerned. So let’s talk about books.
Dear Sars…
My dad and I recently were arguing over whether or not to put a period behind his middle initial. He has no middle name, just the initial “L” (odd, I know), and he says that since it isn’t an actual name, you don’t have to put a period behind it. (“Dad L Lastnamehere.”) I think that he should, just because it looks wrong that way. Do you have any idea what would be the correct way to write it out?
Just curious…
Dear Curious,
I think your dad’s right. The period in this case indicates that the “L” is in fact an initial, an abbreviation, so if the “L” stands for itself, you don’t need the period.
This here Wikipedia entry on David O. Selznick seems to advise putting the period in, but in that case, Selznick wanted people to think he had a middle name (or so the legend goes), so he would have punctuated it to give the appearance of an “Oliver” — or whatever — “behind” the “O.”
I know it looks weird, but the “L” is the name itself, and you wouldn’t put a period after a full name (“Dad Middlename. Lastnamehere” would look weird too). So, I’d leave it off. It’s his name, after all.
Dear Sars,
This issue is sort of a different version of the smelly co-worker
quandary. I’m in school, and I have an assigned library carrel that
adjoins the carrel of a young lady that I barely know at all. I had
one class with her once, but we’re certainly not close enough for me
to discuss the following issue with her. We don’t have mutual friends,
and changing carrels isn’t an option.
Here’s the problem: she has
very smelly feet. I mean, horrifically smelly. She tends to wear
sandals (like really old, cork sole sandals with years of foot crud
encrusted on them) and take them off to be more comfortable while
working. This is all well and good except for the fact that the smell
of her feet is SO DISTRACTING I can’t work when she’s there. I
actually have to go away because a) I get nauseous and b) I worry that
anyone walking past thinks it’s me! It’s not me! It’s her. And it’s
winter now, so it’s only gonna get worse when it’s actually hot. I
just don’t know what to do. Is there anyway to resolve this issue
without confrontation?
I hope that you can help.
Sincerely,
Breathing Through My Mouth
Dear Breathing,
“Without confrontation.” Yeah…no. You’ll have to say something. It’s awkward, but there’s no other way, as I suspect you know.
You can ease into it, I guess, by wandering out into the little carrel hallway, sniffing the air, and asking, “Do you smell that? It smells like feet.” But I think your best recourse is to tell her that her feet, or her shoes, are offensive-smelling, that you can’t work in those conditions, and that you’d really appreciate it if she either changed her shoes or switched to a closed-toe pair, and kept them on in the carrel.
She may take offense, and refuse to deal with it, but your only hope of changing the olfactory circumstances here is to ask her to mind her feet better. Or you can hang a Li’l Tree and suffer in silence.
Tags: boys (and girls) etiquette health and beauty the fam
