| 3/25/99 Just got off the phone with my parents. I told them the thing that I was too pussy to tell them when I was visiting on Saturday--that John and I have decided to get married. My dad made the same offer that he's been making since I was sixteen. He's always told me that if I elope he'll give me the amount of money that a wedding would have cost. Frankly, that sounds good to me, but John's parents would freak out if we didn't have at least a small wedding. And my mom would be mad, too, but she's just now admitting it. The only thing she had to say about it is that I didn't give her enough time to make the wedding quilt. She needs at least 10 years to sew the damn thing. My dad also asked about the engagement ring...how do I explain to my dad that I think they're kind of silly? I mean, sure, I'd like to have a really expensive diamond ring, but I can't justify that when we don't even own a bed. I told John that I'd wear an engagement ring if he would, too. Dammit. So, it's official. I've been holding out on writing it in here for a few days, just to be absolutely sure that my parents didn't find out before I told them. God, I didn't want to tell them. My family gets along very well; we hang out together, we make fun of the neighbors, play Scrabble, celebrate holdiays and such. But we're not really close emotionally, at least, I'm not. I was raised to be very independent, and I'm not a very trusting person anyway; I feel totally weird whenever I have to talk to my parents about personal things. Like music, and my boyfriend, and things like that. My parents want to hear the sappy lovey mushy shit, the oh-we're-getting-married shit, and I just can't do it. They were the first to hear about it, other than a couple of e-friends. It's the first time I've said it out loud, and of course I had to say it twice, since my mom wouldn't tell my dad for me. Things are out in the open, I'm allowed to act excited about moving south, and I think mom and dad feel better about the whole thing. And you know what? Now that it's all set, I'm moving to Georgia, no going back, I have a job prospect. In Dallas. I applied for this professorship a few weeks ago, and today I received a letter requesting a recording and one of the recommendations that was mailed out late. Typically, if they didn't want me, they wouldn't ask for the stuff. I thought I had no chance at this job. I have so little experience. For pete's sake, I'm just finishing my master's degree, I've only taught one college class, played a couple of pro gigs, never been published, and this is one of the schools I was thinking about applying to for my doctoral work. I couldn't keep my hands off my euphonium today. Post-recital practice mania. Went to class and then spent most of the day on the couch, trading the horn for the remote whenever I got tired of playing. I'm surprised I don't have bedsores. By the way, you want the mushy part? We were at the ice cream shop, buying cookie sandwiches.
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