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I’m taking a brief hiatus from my little series on marriage (much to my boyfriend’s relief, no doubt :) ) to weigh in on the recent tragedy in Tucson, AZ.

It seems everyone has an opinion about what happened there, and I’m no different. For myself, though, I’d prefer not to venture into the right vs. left argument about whether or not Loughner’s attack on Rep. Gabrielle Giffords and 19 others was politically motivated. Instead, I’d like to focus on the questions surrounding mental health and the issues of individual freedom vs. collective good that this incident has raised.

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For my first little commentary on the institution of marriage, I’d like to be somewhat linear and start with that ritual that is typically the precursor to a marriage: the wedding. More specifically, I’d like to discuss how generally horrified I am at how downright ridonkulous weddings have become in this day and age.

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From this day forward

Don’t say I didn’t warn you! I have marriage on the brain — not in that unbearably vehement, nagging, hyperventilating, psychotic Bridezilla sort of way (yuck) but rather in a more philosophical, analytical sort of way. Let’s be real and consider the source for a moment: me. Me, who in the space of a decade ran the gamut from starry-eyed newlywed to divorcee to spurned fiancee to…. someone who refuses to define herself or measure her self-worth in terms of her romantic relationships or lack thereof.

I wouldn’t call myself an authority on marriage. Heck, I wouldn’t call myself an authority on anything. I’m just a woman with an overabundance of opinions, an axe or two to grind (maybe), and a blog. Deadly combination, that. What follows in this post and subsequent ones tagged “marriage” are simply my thoughts on the subject, along with references to the people, experiences, and concepts that have informed those thoughts. That’s all. Nothing to be scared of, unless of course you are scared in which case I’m strangely flattered and mildly weirded out, considering I’m Just. One. Person.

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A diamond is forever?

I got some pretty positive, supportive responses to my post earlier this week about my “leftover” engagement ring, including a really great reality check from my old high school friend, Leonard, in the form of a link to this article from the February 1982 edition of the Atlantic Monthly. Though nearly 30 years old, the article is chock-full of excellent information on the diamond industry and that cartel of all cartels, De Beers. For those who don’t have time to read through the whole thing (it’s quite lengthy) I’ll quote Leonard’s perfect summary: “Diamonds are worthless and their supposed value is entirely a fiction of marketing created by the De Beers cartel.”

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On ice

In April of last year, I was given a 1.03 carat diamond engagement ring. It consisted of an emerald-cut diamond (my favorite) in a plain platinum setting. No silly baguettes or other side stones, no distractions from the simple elegance of the diamond itself. In my rather muddled, vulnerable mental state, I believed at the time that I was in love with the guy who gave it to me. I also believed he was in love with me. (Lesson #1, kids: just because you believe something doesn’t make it so.)

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Some stats….

In an effort to figure out where most of my blog traffic comes from, I took a look at the very comprehensive site statistics as provided by WordPress. Below are the top ten search engine terms that brought people to little ol’ Out and Back during 2010, followed by the resulting number of page views:

loaches – 621

platys – 204

dojo loach – 161

the front is like a car the back is like a truck – 69

octopus ride – 66

coney island face – 62

abandoned school – 54

guppy fry – 48

abandoned school buildings – 47

dojo loaches – 43

Apparently, my old posts about the various fish I’ve kept as pets at one time or another are popping a lot in the search engines, as is my post declaring my undying love for the Chevrolet El Camino.  Then there are the Coney Island and amusement park -related ramblings, not to mention a post I wrote about an abandoned school in Cateechee, SC. So… fishies, old cars, and ephemera…. that’s what drives my site traffic. I suppose there are worse things. And hey, to all you loach-lovers out there, check out the “Dojo Loaches!” t-shirt for sale in my CafePress shop.

My Favorite Photo of Me

This photo was taken on my 34th birthday… May 14 of this year. It’s my favorite picture of me because it serves as a reminder of two things:

1. How blissfully happy I was that day.

2. How much happier I am now.

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