july 19, 2001. In one month, I will have been married for a year. Whew. Married. For a year. I'm having a bit of trouble with that one at the moment. In fact, although I make reference to the wedding and 'my husband' all the time, marriage still mostly seems like something that happened to another girl, one loosely related to myself. The wedding, sure. I can star in that one. There was a kickass dj, lots of nice clothes, I danced to 'Temple Of Love' in a big white dress, we forgot to cut the cake and my flowers were beautiful. I have all of that down pat, stored, assimilated. But the concept of me as a married woman is still a little, well, foggy. Maybe the problem is that I didn't take his name. It's not about feminism (I'm not looking for a bitchslap from Gloria Steinem, y'all.) It's about simple mnemonics. If I heard people call me Amoret Boy all day long, or if I had to give my name as Mrs. Boy (his real first name is 'the'), I think I'd've gotten the hang of this whole married thing a lot sooner. Even now it coldcocks me: I am married. I, the little girl who lacked social skills until the age of 16 and a boyfriend until 18, is married. I've been keeping a diary longer than I've been an attractive chick, you know. A lot longer. And then when you get beyond the physical fact of marriage, the implications still give me the willies. I have the easiest part of it figured out already: keep the bathroom & kitchen tidy, use up food before it spoils, keep the cat out of the bedroom, and count to ten when you feel like ripping his head off. The other stuff is the hard part. The spectre of endurance, to pick one big goal, strikes fear into my heart. What if I don't have the patience to listen to his stories about Marcus' house in 20 years? Heck, what if the 'Christina the Shameless' series runs dry next Tuesday? My problem - and everyone in the Western Hemisphere's problem, really - is that I live in a society that has reduced life to symbols rather than substance. Nobody has a clue how to go about the really important things in life anymore, not now that everything's up for grabs. I don't want a manual for life; that would take all the fun out of things. But some appropriate advice would be nice... this time 2 years ago: she eats like a savage