So this is what Purgatory must feel like. I'm married... but not.
No, I really am married. Really.
In order for my marriage to be recognized in the U.S., David & I needed to have Marriage Under the Act (a court wedding), so we went ahead and got that done on Wednesday, November 1. It was a small affair - just the two of us, a couple of friends who married in almost the exact same way ten years ago, my mom, David's brother, and the officiant (who is probably not much older than I am). We confirmed that we were there to get married. The officiant said, "I'm now supposed to confirm that you are not biologically related, but I don't think that's necessary," and we all laughed. We each put a hand on the Bible while reciting vows after the officiant. And then we signed the marriage certificate. That was it. Nothing special. But we're married!
And yet that's only a legality, and in my mind, I won't be married until the 18th. My name has changed. I've practised my new signature again and again. But I'm still living in my parents' house. I still can't be alone in a house with David. And I'm still a proud member of the Virgin Lips club. Sannu.
In other news, wedding prep is going well. I'm getting a little panicky about the music aspect of the ceremony. And one of my bridesmaids hasn't gotten her visa to enter the country yet. But I'm sure it will all come together, and worrying about it isn't going to solve anything. We'll just keep praying.
