He married me TWICE!
Last night, I posted this picture to Facebook, Instagram and Twitter:
“Pretty low-key Monday night. Just getting remarried…no big deal. #newlyweds”
And my feeds blew up with hilarious comments about not really being married for the first two years, the absence of a marriage license, cake, readers and the comment that inspired this title from Celeste Harned “Poor Frobose, how many times is he gonna hear ‘I’m so awesome you married me twice.’ Lol.” Way to go Celeste, I did literally laugh out loud at that one.
This story is so ridiculous I have to share it – I swear I couldn’t make this [insert word for manure] up.
Starting from the beginning…
We got married in January 2011 and moved to Australia a mere three weeks later. Because my passport and travel visa were in Buzzard, and three weeks isn’t enough time to change them, I stayed Brandi Buzzard for the entirety of our trip.
Upon returning to the U.S. I embarked upon the crappy path of name change. Fellas, you ought to buy your wives two dozen roses and an old bottle of wine for taking on your name, especially when it’s not near as cool as her own. Name change just doesn’t happen with the exchanging of vows and rings. There are forms [gasp] and waiting in line [double gasp] and it actually isn’t cheap by the time she purchases new checks, a new passport, changes the title of her vehicles, new driver’s license (we’ll get to that), etc. It’s also extremely time consuming and a massive headache. No wonder so many women decide not to change their names – if I hadn’t promised him a long time ago that I would change it, I totally would stay Buzzard instead of becoming Mrs. Ninja.
Anyhow, I’ve legally been Brandi Lynn Buzzard Mrs. Ninja [Buzzard is my middle name. You didn’t think I’d get rid of it completely did you? tsk tsk] for about a year. Social security card, bank accounts, employment records, insurance, credit cards – all of that has been changed. The last thing I needed to do was change my driver’s license so I took my new social security card and the 18 forms of ID that the DMV requires into the County Treasurer’s Office and waited
impatiently for 1.5 hours until it was my turn.
I was so proud. And so dumb. Proud of myself for having all the proper forms of ID, utility bills, blood sample, tattoo and everything else that is required for a new plastic ID card. And so dumb because I actually believed this was going to be a smooth process. #Idiot. How many times have you gone to the DMV and left with your new card on the first try? NEVER.
The fella starts processing my form and although I can’t remember the actual conversation, [this event took place last fall(ish)], he asked why the box on the bottom of my form didn’t have a legal name in it. ruh-roh.
*Sidenote: While we were in Australia, the DMV or some higher power, decided that marriage licenses needed a box at the bottom denoting what the legal names of the married individuals will be after the cake is gone and the emotional roller coaster is over. OUR marriage license had no such box. I know this because I had the original and there definitely was no option for that.
I informed the oh-so-delightful employee that my license didn’t have that and if he would just process my forms and snap my picture I’d be on my way. Nope – not happening. He told me that I had to have that box filled in since I was not dropping Buzzard and was instead adding it as a middle name. This seems unfathomably stupid to me but I don’t make the rules, I just whine about them. He also told me that I could legally change my name by filing a civil court case and making an ad in the paper letting folks know I was changing my name and it would only cost approximately $200. Then I would bring that form back and proceed as planned.
I felt the need to repeat to him several times that my legal name ALREADY had been changed and that my driver’s license is not the Holy Grail of legality in the U.S. How do we keep track of children under the age of 14 without driver’s licenses? Holy cow – they must not exist without a driver’s license! He wasn’t buying it.
I bid him
bad good-day and then drug my semi-lifeless body to the County Clerk’s office to schedule my pointless court date and began mentally preparing myself for the anguish of telling The Ninja about the whole process. As I stood glumly in the clerk’s office, I was met with some good news from the clerk ladies who told me that I could just get remarried and file a new marriage license which would be far cheaper and much less time consuming. HUZZAH!
So, after double-checking several times that this was actually legal, The Ninja and I tied the knot [again] last night and went out for celebratory drinks.
I’ve had several people ask why they weren’t invited and if we did something wrong. We even got an offer for a toaster [yes, please]. There were only 5 of us there – The Ninja, me, our two witnesses ([hanks swine graduate students] and the Judge. We didn’t fill the judge in on the background, at this point I just wanted to get it over with and done.
So now I can finish out changing my name – as you may have noticed/read, I’ve legally been Mrs. Ninja for quite some time and had changed all my social media outlets etc a long time ago. But I can now finish the last few steps that require a driver’s license. Halle-freakin’-lujah.
Summary: we have actually been married the entire time. We now have two marriage licenses, two wedding dates and one anniversary [I’m not celebrating this headache]. I am a little disappointed though, The Ninja didn’t get me a gift, a flower or whisk me away on another surprise honeymoon to Fiji. Bummer. But at least we’re still married and I do love him so there’s always that!
The Ninja told me last night that I should try to share this story so that other brides know what a big pain in the butt it is and I agree. It shouldn’t be this difficult. If we can legally tie ourselves to someone after a three day wait and $85 and then expect half of their worldly goods if the marriage doesn’t work, why is changing the name to reflect the promise so difficult?
I’m shooting to get on Ellen. She’s hilarious and like I said, you can’t make this stuff up.
Anyone else have any ridiculous post marriage frustration stories to share?
Until next time [with ag related info],
~ Buzzard ~
p.s. If you stop calling me Buzzard, we stop being friends. Capice?