Weddingbee Blog

Hey ladies! I’m back* with a contribution to the latest series.

So uh, I was a pseudo-hippie in high school.

Which is funny because I grew up in rural northern Minnesota. And none of my friends shared my adoration for all things 1960s/early 1970s.

The photo above was taken when I was 16. You can’t see it, but my long hair is tucked into my thrift-store farm-wife coat on account of the fact that it was probably about 10 degrees when that photo was taken. I loved that jacket, purchased much to my mom’s dismay at the Salvation Army store. I think my mom excitedly threw it out the SECOND I left for college.

Back then, my primary interests were classic rock and folk rock (e.g., The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, The Grateful Dead, The Allman Brothers Band, etc.) and my 1973 VW Beetle. In fact, when I was looking through old photos to find the ones for this post, most of them showed me perched next to my car.

See?

The photo above was taken the day I left for college. Back when my diet consisted of Diet Sunkist and fat-free yogurt. (Gee, can you tell?) I went to Eugene, Oregon, where I was sure to find other hippie-people like me! (Right?!)

Actually, I think Eugene took the hippie *out* of me. That, or it taught me a lesson about what that kind of lifestyle means and how awkwardly my actual ideals and comforts fit into such a lifestyle. See, back then:

Love was all I needed. HIPPIE love. I had a steady high school boyfriend, who was an angel of a guy and who I dumped after five years (seriously, we’re talking a 7th–12th grade relationship) because he was too farmer-y and I was a free spirit, man! I had met a perfect hippie guy online. He had long, curly hair and drove a ’68 VW van. How could anything go wrong? (Everything went very wrong when he moved to Oregon to be with me, actually. And that’s one of the most important lessons I learned in college.)

Also, my parents were dumb and school sucks. Of course. Everyone’s parents are dumb when they’re 18 and know everything about life. I didn’t care about school or my future aspirations in graduate school. Graduate school, whatever. I wanted to finish my four years and be DONE. No years of toil after college for me. I hated school. I just wanted to get a bachelor’s degree so I could work somewhere part time and make enough money to live and work on my VWs with my (awful) long-haired, hippie boyfriend.

I wanted a young family. Who cares about what they say about marrying young? My grandparents married young and they’re fine. Lots of older generations married young. Thankfully, I did not marry the hippie guy. But I did marry. Because I wanted to be married. And I wanted a family before I was 25.

So yeah. Here’s me back then (and WITHOUT my car—imagine!).

And here’s me now. (Well, last year around this time.)

I’m a goddamn yuppie! (Well, the ND version of one.) That’s mortal enemy of the hippie! I like fancy things, nice things, new things, shiny things. (Doesn’t mean I always *get* them, but that’s what I like.) If I can pay for something instead of making it/doing it myself, I usually do because of how much time making stuff takes. The vast majority of my spare time is spent working on my Ph.D. I also work a professional job where I dress in slacks and blouses and heels and sit at a computer all day in my office, which has a window overlooking a parking lot. I listen to all sorts of music, including rap and hip-hop, pop/Top-40, ’90s grunge (the stuff I missed back *in* the ’90s when I was holed up with my Creedence Clearwater Revival cassettes), and classical music. I sold my VW in 2005, followed by a handful of other cars, before finally settling down with a 2008 Civic—one of the most mainstream and maintenance-free cars there is. My Civic has heated seats, y’all.

Now…

Love is important, but partnership is king. I’m married now (different marriage, as you know if you’ve followed me) to someone who is definitely not a hippie. Someone who wants classic cars off the road because they smell bad and who crinkles his nose at any music older than the ’90s. I know now that it takes two people to make a relationship work, and preferably, those people should share similar goals and dreams for the future. Mr. MJ and I may not have the same superficial tastes, but we just *get* each other. And we’re both committed, motivated, educated, and somewhat responsible. We understand that marriage is a choice you cannot take lightly, and once you’ve made the choice you have to WORK at it. You *both* have to work at it.

Turns out, my parents are smart and always were. I swear to God, everything my mother ever predicted for me came true. Every mistake I made, she warned me against making (but I did it anyway). Everything my dad told me about higher education and my need for such also came true. The more education you have, the more choices you can make in life. And he always said I’d *need* lots of education, because I have expensive taste. Right on all accounts, and here I am at 27, finishing up my terminal degree. (School still kind of sucks, but I’ve assimilated. It’s a form of Stockholm Syndrome, I think.)

Babies scare the hell out of me. I still don’t want to be what I think of as an “old, out-of-touch mom,” but I have definitely surpassed the age teenage-me thought was appropriate for motherhood. Rather than jump right into baby-having just because I want a baby, I have come to the realization of how much more freedom a couple has without small children hanging on their every decision. Especially with the added stress of school along with our jobs, and the added expenses children bring, we are very glad to be child-free at this point in our lives. Obviously there are wonderful benefits to having a family, and Mr. MJ and I do intend to have at least one child (though I say at least two, but that’s ’cause I grew up “only and lonely”). But we’re not ready yet. The struggle now is figuring out when we *will* be ready.

Us in April 2010

*One of these days I am going to muster up the courage to say goodbye to the ’bee. My recaps were over by this time last year, and I shared our belated honeymoon a good four months ago. Sometimes weeks pass and I don’t even think about our wedding. But I just cannot bring myself to say goodbye yet. I have attachment issues! So I think I’ll just keep popping in every now and then for a little while longer, if you don’t mind! (You can also find my non-wedding ramblings over here.)