Future Husband, COMPETITION ON!

Dear Future Husband,
The problem with being single in your 30’s is that EVERY SINGLE ONE of your friends is already married. Now, I know it’s not a competition and all, but that doesn’t stop that annoying Seasme Street “One of These Things is NOT Like the Other” song from continuously running through my head.

But here’s the REAL problem: THERE IS NO ONE LEFT TO CATCH MY BOUQUET. Trivial right? Wrong.

Every girl deserves the chance to hang a clump of impeccably arranged flowers over their best friends’ heads and internally chant, “Dance for me, my puppets…DANCE!” But, with me, only Sheesa is left. And, let’s be honest, she heard the “DANCE FOR ME” order plenty enough during our high school days on the dance team when I, as captain, bossed her freshman butt around. I think I’ll spare her on my day of jubilee.

But tradition WILL live on, dear future husband. There WILL be a bouquet toss. You know that moment when the bride turns and hands the bouquet to the maid of honor after walking down the aisle? (Yeah, you prob DON’T know, but just say you do). Welp, drumroll please…that was it. I hope she caught it.

PS. How do you feel about playing “All the Single Ladies” for 2.5 seconds at the altar as I “toss” the bouquet to Sheesa?

PSS. We better get married before Sheesa does. Otherwise, I’m screwed. COMPETITION ON!

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin
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Future Husband, COMPETITION ON!

Future Husband, I want to cut my hair

Dear Future Husband,
I really want to cut my hair. Like really. The adorably spunky, short, curly bob is SO in right now. But I can’t. To explain the reasoning, this is the conversation that we would be having if you were here:

Ima: “Future Husband, I want to cut my hair.”

Future Husband: “OK, so cut it.”

Ima: “I can’t.”

Future Husband: “Ok, uhm, why?”

Ima: “Because hair takes time to grow back.”

Future Husband: “Uh…ok…and this is a problem because…”

Ima: “It’s a problem because I need my hair to be long for my, errr, OUR wedding. I need it to be SO VERY LONG so that I can 100% pull it ALL BACK. And, if I cut it now, that means we will have to wait like THREE MORE years before we can say ‘I do.’”

Future Husband: several seconds of silence

Future Husband: “You know we haven’t even met yet, right?”

Ima: “…thanks for the reminder…”

PS. I’m giving you a pass because it’s happening in my head, but I’m going to need you to be more engaged in these types of conversations moving forward.

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, I want to cut my hair

Future Husband, I NEED China

Dear Future Husband,
For the past five years, I have been eating off chipped, hand-me-down, circa 1980 plates and bowl (yes, I literally mean ONE bowl.) I was patiently waiting to register for everyday china once we got engaged, but you’re taking too long. In fact, you’re currently non-existent. Therefore, in lieu of wearing kitchen mitts every time I handle said razor-jagged-chipped china, I took the plunge. Without you.

PS. I hope you like square plates, the color teal and birds.

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, I NEED China

Future Husband, I think you might be cursed

Dear Future Husband,

There’s something you need to know about me. Unnecessary noises are my biggest pet peeve and, well, just plain unnecessary. This noise category is broad, but can be loosely defined as, “gum smacking, nail picking, loud chewing/slurping, fabric rubbing, pen tapping, annoying chatter and audible breathing,” to name a few.

Also, unnecessary noises become even more unnecessary during times when everything else is quiet – like bedtime.

For example, growing up, my family would take vacations, and my sister – Sheesa Waitin – and I would have to share a bed. Sheesa knew of my disdain for unnecessary noises, yet still defiantly chose to breathe at night. Oh, the nerve of the younger sibling… This caused many a fight and nearly ruined several trips. One night, after an epic ordeal, Sheesa sat up and bed and yelled, “IMA, I hope you marry a man who BREATHES.” Now, I cannot adequately convey in writing the tone with which Sheesa used. I think her voice dropped about 10 octaves and the word “breathes” lingered for a very long time…kind of like ‘BREEEEEAAAAAAAATTTHHHHHHHHHEEEEES.” My parents, who were in the hotel bed next to us, erupted in laughter. I slept in the bathtub.

Therefore, dear future husband, I have a very strong feeling that you were cursed by Sheesa that night, and that you will, in fact, breathe.

PS. I don’t believe in divorce, nor do I plan to sleep in the ever bathtub again. So, I’m going to put this out there: you better not snore.

xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, I think you might be cursed

Future Husband, is your name Oliver?

Dear Future Husband,
I have an advanced confession. I’m sure that when we meet I’ll tell you all about the REALLY cool and exciting ways I spend my weekends and free time.

…wait for it…It’s all a lie.

In reality, I spend my weekends binge watching Netflix. My recent addiction is Arrow. Actually, I’m quite certain Oliver Queen is destined to be my future husband. I know this because when I was little, I had a crush on Disney’s Robin Hood. I thought he was foxy. Therefore, it only makes sense that the adult version of myself is hopelessly drawn to an arrow-weilding HUMAN man donning a green hood. It matters not that he’s fiction…a girl can dream.

PS. It’s really OK if you’re not the superhero, Oliver Queen. I’ll still love you even if you are just a doctor or lawyer or CEO.
PSS. If you’re NOT Oliver Queen, I probably have unrealistic expectations about your body.

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, is your name Oliver?