Our honeymoon is all booked! All forms of transport, all accommodation, and I'm never thinking about any of it again! Atrociously enough, we're going to have to travel for about 22.5 hours to get there ("there" being a town in the far far north of Norway, 2.5 hours on a plane, 16 hours on trains and 4 hours on a boat away via Oslo) and about 28.5 hours to get back (via Stockholm, 6 hours on a bus, 20 hours on a train and another wee flight). Plus of course the hour and a half that we need to get from our place to the airport.
That's crazy. We could have practically gone to Australia in that time.
Oh, and in other good news, I have used up all of my stupid frequent flyer points and will now be saying goodbye to the United programme forever! Yay!
Showing posts with label gettin' hitched. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gettin' hitched. Show all posts
Sunday, 10 August 2008
Saturday, 9 August 2008
Honeymoon Rage
There's nothing that ruins a holiday like having to organise it, particularly a holiday that involves lots of long (ie. reservation necessary) trips on trains, boats and planes.
We're going on a honeymoon. Finally. To the place where we met, actually (and practically on the anniversary of when we met, which is twice the bang for your romantic buck), and where the icecream we named ourselves after* hails from (Norway). Getting there is going to be arduous (plane, train, boat) but at least we've already booked it, getting back is still the world's biggest headache (bus, train, plane), not least because we're trying to use my pathetic collection of frequent flyer points to book the flight.
I hate frequent flyer points. Without actually going into it, because everyone hates frequent flyer points and it's not really an interesting conversation,
1. The fact that my frequent flyer thing is with United Airlines is moronic.
2. All frequent flyer websites seem to be unbelievably moronic. Why are they so badly organised? Why don't they tell you the things you need to know (ie. how to book the flights, what flights are actually available, how many points they cost, what are the taxes)? Why don't they let you book a one way flight? Why don't they make it easy to contact them? Where are the phone numbers and emails? Why did I have to crawl pathetically around for ages on their stupid site for about half an hour looking for what I needed? Only to phone them up later and be told that everything I had read was wrong?
Morons.
* Did I ever mention that on here? The new surname we eventually decided to take as our married name comes from a Norwegian ice cream.
We're going on a honeymoon. Finally. To the place where we met, actually (and practically on the anniversary of when we met, which is twice the bang for your romantic buck), and where the icecream we named ourselves after* hails from (Norway). Getting there is going to be arduous (plane, train, boat) but at least we've already booked it, getting back is still the world's biggest headache (bus, train, plane), not least because we're trying to use my pathetic collection of frequent flyer points to book the flight.
I hate frequent flyer points. Without actually going into it, because everyone hates frequent flyer points and it's not really an interesting conversation,
1. The fact that my frequent flyer thing is with United Airlines is moronic.
2. All frequent flyer websites seem to be unbelievably moronic. Why are they so badly organised? Why don't they tell you the things you need to know (ie. how to book the flights, what flights are actually available, how many points they cost, what are the taxes)? Why don't they let you book a one way flight? Why don't they make it easy to contact them? Where are the phone numbers and emails? Why did I have to crawl pathetically around for ages on their stupid site for about half an hour looking for what I needed? Only to phone them up later and be told that everything I had read was wrong?
Morons.
* Did I ever mention that on here? The new surname we eventually decided to take as our married name comes from a Norwegian ice cream.
Friday, 4 July 2008
Memory Lane
Because I somehow failed to do it in the last 5 months or so, and because I'm wasting some time when I really should be swotting up on some french, I just made a wee album of photos for our wedding to put on my Facebook profile.
Which reminded me of a happy story.
We got married at Shelly Beach, a (relatively) quiet wee spot in Sydney, just around the corner from the much larger and less charming Manly beach. Shelly Beach has pleasantly calm water (it's in a cove thing so no waves to speak of) and has lovely clear water (the sand there is less sandy and more shelly, and what with the lack of waves it doesn't really get churned up much so you can always see what's going on underwater at Shelly Beach) and is generally popular with families (who are scared of their kids being drowned by waves) and snorkellers. A few years ago I went snorkelling at Shelly Beach. It was all very pleasant until the part where a bluebottle got its horrible bluebottle tentacles all wrapped around my neck and stung the hell out of me.
I don't really have a lot of experience with being stung by bluebottles. In general I find that they usually manage to get other people instead of me, and so my main memory at the time was of when my sister got got by one and it left all these big horrible red welts around her ankles that didn't go away for ages.
Anyway, there I am flailing about in the ocean, probably about 30m or so from the shore, trying to get these tentacles off me and meanwhile getting ever more tangled in them and also getting stung all over my hands and arms. By the time I eventually got back to the shore I was all a-tizzy with the exhaustion of coping with the horrible burning pain, swimming back to shore and trying to remember how you are supposed to treat bluebottle stings. I know we used to be told that vinegar was the way to go, but then didn't they change that advice to fresh water? Or salty water? Or urine? Opting for the easiest and least pervy* option, I went to the shower things and put my neck under the water, but that just made it hurt more. There were no life guards around (ie. the people who would have the vinegar) so instead I went to a cafe and asked if I could have some ice or something, which also didn't really help me much and plus I was getting quite a lot of strange looks as I sat there clutching ice at myself and feeling hysterical. Not to mention the fact that I was almost crying from the pain and I was secretly convinced that I was going to collapse with either a heart attack (because it felt like my heart was galloping along at about a zillion miles an hour) or some sort of anaphylactic shock (because it felt like my neck was swollen to about 8 times its normal size, which I was sure was hindering my breathing and therefore killing me. Incidentally, I was later very disappointed when I looked in a mirror and saw that my neck wasn't red or swollen at all. I do like having the visible signs of trauma; it's the best way to get more sympathy).
Needless to say, I survived and then enjoyed telling people about the day that I got a bluebottle wrapped around my neck. My story lost a lot of its charm (for me) when I met this dude who had been out surfing a week or two earlier and and been stung by a bluebottle and reacted reeeally badly and got these enormous welts all over his torso which ended up turning scabby and taking weeks and weeks to heal, but still, my "and then a bluebottle tried to strangle me!" story remained traumatic and dramatic for me.
And then I got married at the same place. Nice.
* Urine obviously being the pervy option. Frankly, although the pain was pretty bad, I think it would have had to have been a lot worse before I started asking strangers if I could borrow their urine.
Which reminded me of a happy story.
We got married at Shelly Beach, a (relatively) quiet wee spot in Sydney, just around the corner from the much larger and less charming Manly beach. Shelly Beach has pleasantly calm water (it's in a cove thing so no waves to speak of) and has lovely clear water (the sand there is less sandy and more shelly, and what with the lack of waves it doesn't really get churned up much so you can always see what's going on underwater at Shelly Beach) and is generally popular with families (who are scared of their kids being drowned by waves) and snorkellers. A few years ago I went snorkelling at Shelly Beach. It was all very pleasant until the part where a bluebottle got its horrible bluebottle tentacles all wrapped around my neck and stung the hell out of me.
I don't really have a lot of experience with being stung by bluebottles. In general I find that they usually manage to get other people instead of me, and so my main memory at the time was of when my sister got got by one and it left all these big horrible red welts around her ankles that didn't go away for ages.
Anyway, there I am flailing about in the ocean, probably about 30m or so from the shore, trying to get these tentacles off me and meanwhile getting ever more tangled in them and also getting stung all over my hands and arms. By the time I eventually got back to the shore I was all a-tizzy with the exhaustion of coping with the horrible burning pain, swimming back to shore and trying to remember how you are supposed to treat bluebottle stings. I know we used to be told that vinegar was the way to go, but then didn't they change that advice to fresh water? Or salty water? Or urine? Opting for the easiest and least pervy* option, I went to the shower things and put my neck under the water, but that just made it hurt more. There were no life guards around (ie. the people who would have the vinegar) so instead I went to a cafe and asked if I could have some ice or something, which also didn't really help me much and plus I was getting quite a lot of strange looks as I sat there clutching ice at myself and feeling hysterical. Not to mention the fact that I was almost crying from the pain and I was secretly convinced that I was going to collapse with either a heart attack (because it felt like my heart was galloping along at about a zillion miles an hour) or some sort of anaphylactic shock (because it felt like my neck was swollen to about 8 times its normal size, which I was sure was hindering my breathing and therefore killing me. Incidentally, I was later very disappointed when I looked in a mirror and saw that my neck wasn't red or swollen at all. I do like having the visible signs of trauma; it's the best way to get more sympathy).
Needless to say, I survived and then enjoyed telling people about the day that I got a bluebottle wrapped around my neck. My story lost a lot of its charm (for me) when I met this dude who had been out surfing a week or two earlier and and been stung by a bluebottle and reacted reeeally badly and got these enormous welts all over his torso which ended up turning scabby and taking weeks and weeks to heal, but still, my "and then a bluebottle tried to strangle me!" story remained traumatic and dramatic for me.
And then I got married at the same place. Nice.
* Urine obviously being the pervy option. Frankly, although the pain was pretty bad, I think it would have had to have been a lot worse before I started asking strangers if I could borrow their urine.
Wednesday, 19 March 2008
Grr
I would have hoped that my recent name-changing frenzy might have solved all my problems with being called stupid things in this country, but apparently not. I am still getting quite a bit of the "Robin" stuff (although I am resigned to that happening forevermore. Happily I also enjoy being OUTRAGED about it, so it's fine), but there is also quite a lot of "Mrs Reto'sFormerSurname" going on, which I don't enjoy at all. If I had wanted that I would have taken his name instead of making him agree to our new icecream-themed option. Grr.
Sunday, 16 March 2008
Blergh
It's a month since Reto and I got married. Much as I don't approve of people noticing such things (and believe me, normally I am the sort of person who doesn't), I can't help but feel vaguely nauseatingly happy.
In other news, in the book I am reading at the moment (the title/author of which is too atrociously embarrassing to mention) the main character's husband dies on the 16th of Feb. Which is our anniversary. So that's nice.
In other news, in the book I am reading at the moment (the title/author of which is too atrociously embarrassing to mention) the main character's husband dies on the 16th of Feb. Which is our anniversary. So that's nice.
Monday, 10 March 2008
All Of Us
I used to find it really annoying when people got my name wrong. They would mispronounce Robyn (sometimes), they would spell it incorrectly (allll the time), they would assume I was a man (really fairly entertaining until the squillionth time it happened. Actually, the last straw was when it happened when we were dealing with the Swiss consulate in Australia. I know they're still Swiss, but they're in Australia! Robyn is a girl's name there! Aagh!).
Anyway, fast forward to now and my shiny new surname, and I love the fact that it has lots of variations. I am fairly fond of the official english version, actually (because that is what I have been calling myself for the last few months), but I also enjoy the german version, and I am also looking forward to the french-speaking option, whatever that might be. It's like suddenly I could be anyone! Or all sorts of different people! Wacky!
Anyway, fast forward to now and my shiny new surname, and I love the fact that it has lots of variations. I am fairly fond of the official english version, actually (because that is what I have been calling myself for the last few months), but I also enjoy the german version, and I am also looking forward to the french-speaking option, whatever that might be. It's like suddenly I could be anyone! Or all sorts of different people! Wacky!
Thursday, 21 February 2008
Wedding Anecdote Number Five
We got Reto's brother to play an alphorn at the ceremony. How excellent is that?
Wedding Anecdote Number Four
Arguably the worst feature of our wedding was that, as a consequence of me spending the first half of the evening all a-jitter with nerves about forgetting my vows (which I sort of did, although not to such excellent comic effect as when Reto jumped in a bit too early with his "I will") and about making a speech, I didn't get around to eating anywhere near as much of the yummy food as I had hoped.
Reto and I had spent quite a while contemplating the menu and I was especially looking forward to the poached herby chickeny thing, which sadly I don't think I even noticed let alone ate. Happily though, I managed a few delicious oysters and some smoked salmon crostini things, and I was also extremely pleased to see various friends and relatives chasing down some of the waiters with the fancy-pants sausage roll things and also the prawn skewers. Aah for someone else to have a wedding there (or anywhere, really) so I can do all the eating and none of the fretting. Hint hint, anyone.
Reto and I had spent quite a while contemplating the menu and I was especially looking forward to the poached herby chickeny thing, which sadly I don't think I even noticed let alone ate. Happily though, I managed a few delicious oysters and some smoked salmon crostini things, and I was also extremely pleased to see various friends and relatives chasing down some of the waiters with the fancy-pants sausage roll things and also the prawn skewers. Aah for someone else to have a wedding there (or anywhere, really) so I can do all the eating and none of the fretting. Hint hint, anyone.
Wednesday, 20 February 2008
Wedding Anecdote Number Three
After all the carry-on and hoo-haa was done, guess how much red wine was drunk at the wedding? Bearing in mind that red wine is the tipple of choice for the vast bulk of my people, and that there were about 60 guests.
...
Yes, that's right, a big 2 bottles!
We did a little bit better on white wine (3 bottles), but sparkling wine (19 bottles) and beer (108 bottles!) were definitely the winners.
...
Yes, that's right, a big 2 bottles!
We did a little bit better on white wine (3 bottles), but sparkling wine (19 bottles) and beer (108 bottles!) were definitely the winners.
Tuesday, 19 February 2008
Wedding Anecdote Number Two (really just a photo)
Our cake was pretty!
(there was a photo here but I have deleted it)
(there was a photo here but I have deleted it)
Wedding Anecdote Number One
You know it’s a good wedding when it’s gatecrashed by another one. Actually, if that’s true, I suppose it means that the Other Wedding was probably better than ours.
Our wedding was in the upstairs section of a restaurant. There was Another (much bigger) Wedding in the downstairs bit. When guests of ours arrived in the general vicinity there was some understandable confusion about which wedding was which, and I spotted several people I knew milling about with the Wrong Crowd. Designated people were sent to gather up all our stray guests, but not before at least a few people had been offered (and accepted) a pre-ceremony drink by the Other Lot, and had even been asked to offer some lovely advice and comments to the [Other] happy couple via camcorder. Which will no doubt make for entertaining/confusing viewing for them one day, wondering who these total strangers accepting their boozy hospitality are.
Later on, fortunately after our ceremony was over and we were only standing around chatting and doing a few photos, the Other Wedding party turned up, barged past all of us and started taking photos in the small, confined area where our ceremony had just been. Personally I thought the whole thing was hilarious until I later heard from a friend that when some of the bridesmaids had shown up, they had seen us there, hesitated and said “It’s another wedding!” and their photographer had yelled at them “Just keep going!”, apparently relentlessly determined to invade photogenic territory. How rude.
Our wedding was in the upstairs section of a restaurant. There was Another (much bigger) Wedding in the downstairs bit. When guests of ours arrived in the general vicinity there was some understandable confusion about which wedding was which, and I spotted several people I knew milling about with the Wrong Crowd. Designated people were sent to gather up all our stray guests, but not before at least a few people had been offered (and accepted) a pre-ceremony drink by the Other Lot, and had even been asked to offer some lovely advice and comments to the [Other] happy couple via camcorder. Which will no doubt make for entertaining/confusing viewing for them one day, wondering who these total strangers accepting their boozy hospitality are.
Later on, fortunately after our ceremony was over and we were only standing around chatting and doing a few photos, the Other Wedding party turned up, barged past all of us and started taking photos in the small, confined area where our ceremony had just been. Personally I thought the whole thing was hilarious until I later heard from a friend that when some of the bridesmaids had shown up, they had seen us there, hesitated and said “It’s another wedding!” and their photographer had yelled at them “Just keep going!”, apparently relentlessly determined to invade photogenic territory. How rude.
The Other Wedding
Monday, 18 February 2008
Hurray!
It's over! The wedding, that is, and in spite of all the long-simmering bridal rage it was really rather fantastic in the end. I'm sure there will be a post later, but in the meanwhile, let's just enjoy the silence ....
Friday, 15 February 2008
Grr Minus 24-ish
My advice to people contemplating getting married:
* Not hard.
** The forecast says "mostly fine" but I suspect I have my pessimistic hat on)
1. Seriously consider eloping.
2. Be more organised than me*.
3. Don't think that just because the worst drought ever has been carrying
on for the last decade that it won't suddenly break and that there won't be
buckets of rain** on the big day.
4. Don't make a speech. Don't memorise your vows. Don't do
anything that involves having to rely on your powers of mental
agility.
5. Blame everything that annoys you on your fiance (yes, the one who
refused to agree to elope, safe in the knowledge that you were always the
one who was going to do have to do all the hard work of organising the damn
wedding. Bastard, etc).
* Not hard.
** The forecast says "mostly fine" but I suspect I have my pessimistic hat on)
Tuesday, 12 February 2008
Grr.
Last night I had a dream that the wedding was over. It was the next day or so and I was thinking back on the wedding and wondering if I had managed to fashion my memories into something more appropriate than the pre-wedding rage/indifference that I currently have going on. As I was thinking back on it all I realised that I could hardly remember anything at all about any of it. I had a vague sense of actually being at the reception and I remembered saying hello to a few people, but I couldn't recall the ceremony, or any speeches, or eating anything at the reception. And then I realised, while still actually dreaming, that I must have been dreaming.
I can't tell you how disappointed I was.
I can't tell you how disappointed I was.
Sunday, 10 February 2008
Multiple Choice
Q: What's more annoying than your own wedding?
A: a) Everything! Your own wedding is the most wondrous event imaginable and you will love every second of it (including all the planning); OR
b) Everything, and anyone who suggests otherwise is a dirty cynic who doesn't deserve the joy and beauty of a wedding to call their own; OR
c) Nothing! Your own wedding is the most nightmarish event imaginable and you will be constantly annoyed through all stages of planning and execution. At least you can hope that when it's over you might be able to fashion your memories into something a bit more appropriate.
Oh, and then there's this..
A: a) Everything! Your own wedding is the most wondrous event imaginable and you will love every second of it (including all the planning); OR
b) Everything, and anyone who suggests otherwise is a dirty cynic who doesn't deserve the joy and beauty of a wedding to call their own; OR
c) Nothing! Your own wedding is the most nightmarish event imaginable and you will be constantly annoyed through all stages of planning and execution. At least you can hope that when it's over you might be able to fashion your memories into something a bit more appropriate.
Oh, and then there's this..
Thursday, 7 February 2008
We're The New Us!
We officially have permission for Reto to take my surname (aka our shiny new surname) after the wedding! Hurray! Not that anyone really thought that this permission would be denied us, but it's nice to have written assurance that me changing my surname wasn't in vain, and also something that we can take to the Swiss Consulate in Sydney after the wedding so that they don't make any trouble for us.
Anyway, now that I have spent the last few weeks posting certified copies of my brand new birth certificate all over town and getting my name changed on my frequent flier programme and so on, Reto has finally starting the process of being faced with actually changing his surname (which really was pretty weird at first for me) and of all the dull bureaucratic hoo-haa of getting a new passport, drivers license, credit card and so on, and he seems as tentative about it as I used to (which is not very tentative, but it really is quite an annoying process).
He also had a google around and found some article in a Swiss newspaper from a few years ago talking about how apparently the Switzies are looking into changing the rules about married names, so that the default position is that you both keep your own name, but that you can still choose to have a common family name if you want to. There were also, apparently, a few statistics in there about the number of newly married couples in the canton of Zurich who choose to take the wife's surname instead of the husband's (something around 200 out of the 7000 marrying couples in 2005, I think) and an article about how emasculating this must be for the men! For crying out loud! What a poor sad bunch of delicate flowers these menfolk must be.
Personally I think it says a lot more about the journalist's sense of self than it does anyone else's.
Anyway, now that I have spent the last few weeks posting certified copies of my brand new birth certificate all over town and getting my name changed on my frequent flier programme and so on, Reto has finally starting the process of being faced with actually changing his surname (which really was pretty weird at first for me) and of all the dull bureaucratic hoo-haa of getting a new passport, drivers license, credit card and so on, and he seems as tentative about it as I used to (which is not very tentative, but it really is quite an annoying process).
He also had a google around and found some article in a Swiss newspaper from a few years ago talking about how apparently the Switzies are looking into changing the rules about married names, so that the default position is that you both keep your own name, but that you can still choose to have a common family name if you want to. There were also, apparently, a few statistics in there about the number of newly married couples in the canton of Zurich who choose to take the wife's surname instead of the husband's (something around 200 out of the 7000 marrying couples in 2005, I think) and an article about how emasculating this must be for the men! For crying out loud! What a poor sad bunch of delicate flowers these menfolk must be.
Personally I think it says a lot more about the journalist's sense of self than it does anyone else's.
Wednesday, 9 January 2008
Not Hating It!
I think I might be excited about my imminent(ish) wedding! Well, maybe not excited, but at least optimistic. Or not pessimistic. I don't dread my imminent(ish) wedding!
Reto and I saw the celebrant today (who seems really lovely and has rather excellent red glasses) and we saw the place where we are having the reception (the food all sounds really yummy) and we found a place to probably have the ceremony (apologies to my dodderier relatives, but I'm sure you'll be fine and there will be a few seats at the end). We're both set with clothes, we have successfully abandoned heaps of boring details that neither of us are interested in. All we have left is arguing about music and tiny dull decorative details and we can forget all about it! Hurrah!
Reto and I saw the celebrant today (who seems really lovely and has rather excellent red glasses) and we saw the place where we are having the reception (the food all sounds really yummy) and we found a place to probably have the ceremony (apologies to my dodderier relatives, but I'm sure you'll be fine and there will be a few seats at the end). We're both set with clothes, we have successfully abandoned heaps of boring details that neither of us are interested in. All we have left is arguing about music and tiny dull decorative details and we can forget all about it! Hurrah!
Tuesday, 8 January 2008
Names
Well, the name thing. As I may have mentioned, Reto and I are getting married. I have never really given the idea of getting married much thought at all, but I have always assumed that if I did get married I wouldn't change my surname. I like my name, I disapprove of the patriarchal ramifications of changing my name, it all seems like a lot of effort to go to for something that would probably just annoy me anyway.
Anyway, Reto and I got engaged and talk turned to surnames. The Swiss system [patriarchy!] forces Switzies who get married to both adopt a common surname, and they way it works is heavily slanted towards making it easier to take the man's surname. Because I am not Swiss, Reto and I can opt to embrace the Australian rules and we could just keep our surnames as they are, but we decided to at least consider the options.
Option number one (me taking Reto's surname) was not actually an option, as far as I was concerned. For the reasons above, as well as the fact that I don't really like his surname and that I also apparently pronounce it all wrong like some gauche foreigner.
Option number two (him taking my surname) was apparently also not an option, because my surname is apparently also unlovable and also a bit unpronounceable [in Switzerland].
Option number three (hyphenation of some sort) was too annoying to even contemplate.
Option number four (neither of us changing our surnames) was okay, but I object to the idea of us potentially having kids in the future, and then either Reto or me being the odd one out in terms of surnames. I particularly objected to the idea that everyone would have Reto's surname and so I would be the odd one out in both the family and the country (assuming we are living in Switzerland). At some point I manhandled Reto into promising that all our children could have my surname (although frankly I didn't really believe him, promises made under duress and all) but even that wasn't very satisfactory. I don't want anyone to be the odd one out. Plus I also secretly have no faith in [patriarchal-orama!] Switzerland and the opportunity to give children my surname. Although I also suspect that might be just my paranoia/xenophobia speaking.
Option number 5 (inventing a new surname and both of us going with it) was therefore ideal. Apart of course from the drama of coming up with a name (plucking anything at all out of our imaginations!), agreeing on one that we both liked, making sure it was pronounced the same in both german and english, making sure that it wasn't stupid (/offensive/unintentionally amusing/sounding too much like something else) in either language, making sure it was relatively spellable, it was all a breeze. The only dramas were the psychological trauma of actually changing my name and having a new birth certificate with someone else's name on it (!), the vast financial and temporal costs involved (not to mention the exhaustion of all the running around), and the fact that we have yet to lodge the application in Switzerland for permission for Reto to take my surname after the wedding. Switzerland being the patriarchal wonderland that it is, one has to actually ask permission and give a decent reason as to why you would want to [make the OBVIOUSLY ABNORMAL AND POSSIBLY INSANE decision to] take the woman's surname after wedding.
Best case scenario - everything is straightforward and we will both have the same surname in a few short weeks (or so). Worst case, permission is denied and I will either have to live with my slightly bonkers new surname or go through all the hoo-haa of changing my name back again and Reto will forever be who he currently is. Fingers crossed.
Anyway, Reto and I got engaged and talk turned to surnames. The Swiss system [patriarchy!] forces Switzies who get married to both adopt a common surname, and they way it works is heavily slanted towards making it easier to take the man's surname. Because I am not Swiss, Reto and I can opt to embrace the Australian rules and we could just keep our surnames as they are, but we decided to at least consider the options.
Option number one (me taking Reto's surname) was not actually an option, as far as I was concerned. For the reasons above, as well as the fact that I don't really like his surname and that I also apparently pronounce it all wrong like some gauche foreigner.
Option number two (him taking my surname) was apparently also not an option, because my surname is apparently also unlovable and also a bit unpronounceable [in Switzerland].
Option number three (hyphenation of some sort) was too annoying to even contemplate.
Option number four (neither of us changing our surnames) was okay, but I object to the idea of us potentially having kids in the future, and then either Reto or me being the odd one out in terms of surnames. I particularly objected to the idea that everyone would have Reto's surname and so I would be the odd one out in both the family and the country (assuming we are living in Switzerland). At some point I manhandled Reto into promising that all our children could have my surname (although frankly I didn't really believe him, promises made under duress and all) but even that wasn't very satisfactory. I don't want anyone to be the odd one out. Plus I also secretly have no faith in [patriarchal-orama!] Switzerland and the opportunity to give children my surname. Although I also suspect that might be just my paranoia/xenophobia speaking.
Option number 5 (inventing a new surname and both of us going with it) was therefore ideal. Apart of course from the drama of coming up with a name (plucking anything at all out of our imaginations!), agreeing on one that we both liked, making sure it was pronounced the same in both german and english, making sure that it wasn't stupid (/offensive/unintentionally amusing/sounding too much like something else) in either language, making sure it was relatively spellable, it was all a breeze. The only dramas were the psychological trauma of actually changing my name and having a new birth certificate with someone else's name on it (!), the vast financial and temporal costs involved (not to mention the exhaustion of all the running around), and the fact that we have yet to lodge the application in Switzerland for permission for Reto to take my surname after the wedding. Switzerland being the patriarchal wonderland that it is, one has to actually ask permission and give a decent reason as to why you would want to [make the OBVIOUSLY ABNORMAL AND POSSIBLY INSANE decision to] take the woman's surname after wedding.
Best case scenario - everything is straightforward and we will both have the same surname in a few short weeks (or so). Worst case, permission is denied and I will either have to live with my slightly bonkers new surname or go through all the hoo-haa of changing my name back again and Reto will forever be who he currently is. Fingers crossed.
Friday, 21 December 2007
Congratulations, You Two!
Congratulations to my cousin and his girlfriend (who I am deliberately not naming because people can be weird about that on blogs), who just got engaged! I seriously doubt that they even know of the existence of this blog, but since I also don't know their non-work email addresses and they are somewhere mysterious in Copenhagen (ie. also unphonable) this is really the best I can do.
I have heard from numerous sources that being engaged and getting married makes you want to harrass other people into joining up too. As far as I can tell this hasn't happened to me (I like my friends. I don't see why I should like them more if they are married) but I do nonetheless feel a certain sense of excitement about the fact that other people are engaged. Possibly because my cousin and his fiancee are in a similar situation to Reto and I (Australians and Crazy Foreigners with visa difficulties!), possibly because I now know how to have conversations about engagement rings and wedding reception venues and so on (only with very little useful advice to give but plenty of powers of complaining and empathising). Possibly I am just filled full of the joy of love and togetherness and all that stuff.
Whatever it is, congratulations! It's great news!
I have heard from numerous sources that being engaged and getting married makes you want to harrass other people into joining up too. As far as I can tell this hasn't happened to me (I like my friends. I don't see why I should like them more if they are married) but I do nonetheless feel a certain sense of excitement about the fact that other people are engaged. Possibly because my cousin and his fiancee are in a similar situation to Reto and I (Australians and Crazy Foreigners with visa difficulties!), possibly because I now know how to have conversations about engagement rings and wedding reception venues and so on (only with very little useful advice to give but plenty of powers of complaining and empathising). Possibly I am just filled full of the joy of love and togetherness and all that stuff.
Whatever it is, congratulations! It's great news!
Tuesday, 13 November 2007
It's Not Me, It's You
Aah, Switzerland.
Apparently if Reto and I were both Swiss and getting married, at the time of our marriage we would have to decide on what our "family name" (ie. shared surname which would also be given to our potential/hypothetical children) would be and then stick with it forever (or maybe we could change it down the track, I don't really know, but the point is that everyone in the family is legally obliged to have the same name. Or at least the same name in their name, so some of us could be hyphenated-of-surname and some of us just have the shared name). There is no requirement that it be the man's name or the woman's name that is taken, or even a name that either of the people have already, but still, a shared name is needed.
I find this system overly intrusive. Personally I have no intention of changing my name after we get married. I like my name (although as everyone who knows what it is will acknowledge, it is kind of ridiculous. Possibly less so here because here it isn't a noun, and actually I suppose it is pronounced differently here, thus meaning that perhaps I sort of have a different name already, but if the point was that my name was too ridiculous to keep I would probably change my first name too), I feel like I have abandoned enough aspects of my former life and identity already by agreeing to live in Switzerland, and I have no particular fondness for Reto's name. Reto apparently also has no desire to adopt my name and ditch his own.
Happily, since I am foreign, we are allowed to adopt the rules used in my homeland, which means we can both carry on as who we are and we can call our kiddies whatever we want (actually I'm not too sure on that point either, but whatever we want relative to the normal Swissy way of doing things). If we were both Swiss, though, we might well be faced with a bit of a problem*.
In other news, there is no equivalent of Ms here either (as in Ms as opposed to Miss or Mrs).
* Of course maybe if I was Swiss I wouldn't think the Swiss way of doing it was odd or invasive.
Apparently if Reto and I were both Swiss and getting married, at the time of our marriage we would have to decide on what our "family name" (ie. shared surname which would also be given to our potential/hypothetical children) would be and then stick with it forever (or maybe we could change it down the track, I don't really know, but the point is that everyone in the family is legally obliged to have the same name. Or at least the same name in their name, so some of us could be hyphenated-of-surname and some of us just have the shared name). There is no requirement that it be the man's name or the woman's name that is taken, or even a name that either of the people have already, but still, a shared name is needed.
I find this system overly intrusive. Personally I have no intention of changing my name after we get married. I like my name (although as everyone who knows what it is will acknowledge, it is kind of ridiculous. Possibly less so here because here it isn't a noun, and actually I suppose it is pronounced differently here, thus meaning that perhaps I sort of have a different name already, but if the point was that my name was too ridiculous to keep I would probably change my first name too), I feel like I have abandoned enough aspects of my former life and identity already by agreeing to live in Switzerland, and I have no particular fondness for Reto's name. Reto apparently also has no desire to adopt my name and ditch his own.
Happily, since I am foreign, we are allowed to adopt the rules used in my homeland, which means we can both carry on as who we are and we can call our kiddies whatever we want (actually I'm not too sure on that point either, but whatever we want relative to the normal Swissy way of doing things). If we were both Swiss, though, we might well be faced with a bit of a problem*.
In other news, there is no equivalent of Ms here either (as in Ms as opposed to Miss or Mrs).
* Of course maybe if I was Swiss I wouldn't think the Swiss way of doing it was odd or invasive.
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