With A Hooker As My Witness

I have never in my life been that girl who sits around and day dreams about her perfect wedding dress or what kind of cake I’ll be eating or where I’ll have the ceremony. I honestly couldn’t care less. I’ll elope in Vegas and have it officiated by someone dressed as Elvis. I’ll wear jeans and a t-shirt. I’ll have my witnesses be a hooker and a homeless person, for all I care. Because that’s just it, I never really cared before.

Something that surprised me though was that when I turned 20, it was like something inside of me clicked on. The tectonic plates that make up Maz have been shifting and f*cking me up big time. While my future wedding is still the least of my concerns, I have, in the past few weeks, really started to think about who is going to be the groom; not necessarily the exact person, but more along the lines of the type of guy who I would be crazy enough to agree to spend my life with. Why? I have no idea and it drives me up a wall. So I’ve decided to channel that craziness into a letter to my future husband:

Hey my 6’2″, super handsome, British, rock star of a future husband,

What’s up? It’s me, your future wife. I know that we haven’t met yet, and I know it’s going to take you a while to figure me out, because trust me, it’s taken me 20 years and I’m still not sure that I’ve got it down yet. So I thought that I would give you a few tips and tricks about the major events prior to the wedding.

First of all, you should know, I talk way too much. I usually talk my self right into a hole. So, during our first encounter, please disregard any embarrassing things I may say. You’re probably just too good looking and I will easily lose my train of thought. Just smile and tell me I’m cute. That’ll stop me right in my tracks.

Our first date is totally up to you, but I hate surprises. I usually Nancy Drew (yes, I’m using that as a verb) a way into figuring out what people are up to because that’s how much I really detest not knowing. So, while I would love to say, “surprise me,” I won’t mean it. The first date is like the wedding though, I don’t really care what we do. You could take me to a park and we could sit on a bench and make up stories about the strangers that walk past us. I would be content with that. Make me laugh and I will do my damnedest to do the same for you.

You should also know that I am terrible at communication. I am really, really bad at staying in touch with people, it’s nothing against them, seriously ask my best friends that live far from me how regularly we talk, *Spoiler Alert* not that much, but after our first date, my phone will probably stay glued to my hand waiting for some form of acknowledgement from you. Since I also like instant gratification, please don’t fault me if I text you first. I know that’s not how it’s “supposed” to go, but I’m not much of a rule follower anyway.  Which leads me to my next point.

Sometimes I like to be the big spoon. Deal with it.

After a while, with me it will probably be way too long because I’m so stubborn, but we’ll finally own up to the big “L.” How sappy. It doesn’t need to be a grand gesture though. I don’t need flowers. I don’t need an everlasting commitment just yet. You could tell me while I’m brushing my teeth. I might swallow my toothpaste, which in the long run isn’t that great for my health, but I will probably have a stupid grin on my face for like 6 years at least. That’s not to say that you have to be the first person to say it, but knowing me, I won’t be. As much as I will feel it and show it, “I love you” probably won’t fall past my lips first, unless of course I get on to one of those rambling sprees and it slips out or something, then again, just smile and tell me I’m cute and that you love me too.

The proposal, that’s the one time that I will waive the rule about surprises. That is the one time that I want to be totally shocked. So, take that as you will, but be original please. No sporting event proposals, no baking the ring into a desserts, no rose petals on the beach. But, since we know that you’re my future husband, we also know that I say yes, so great job with whatever it is you’re going to do. I’m sure I’m going to love it.

Since you’re going to be my best friend by the time we’re getting married, I’m sure you’ll pick up on the other every day Maz-isms and even learn to love things like the fact that I put on full concerts while I’m in the shower or that I won’t drink orange juice from concentrate (weird, right?), but until then I hope that these tips come in handy.

Anyway, bye for now!

Love times infinity,

Maz

 

 

 

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One thought on “With A Hooker As My Witness

  1. Pingback: Where Even Are You Because I’m Getting Bored | mazforthefanz

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