Beyond Bridget

Have you ever noticed that middle-aged married women are rarely the center of any light-humored novels? There is no "Bridget Jones: Married and Magnificent". There is no "Drunk, Divorced and Covered in Cat Hair, Part 2: Recovered, Remarried and Denouncing Dander". No. Marriedeeds seem to be relegated to the brooding, unhappy and looking-to-be-a-home-wrecker type of character. Or, they are the center of self-help books, such as "You (really) CAN be fabulous (again)". Society seems to have determined that married women are particularly not interesting and, most definitely, not funny.

I actually mourned the loss of my Bridget Jonesishness a few years after being married. It isn't that I wanted to return to singlehood. Not at all. But I did have that certain light-hearted, misty eyed reminiscence of what it was like when the world was better after a cocktail and a bitch session. I had relished meeting up after work with my similar life-styled girlfriends. I loved downing martini after martini after martini. I liked having the right to carry on about the current men in our lives and their ability to be "fuckwits". I felt funny and desirable and young and successful and witty and career-oriented. I felt haute couture and artistically tragic and hip. I felt like I had earned the girl scout badge of "Super Single".

But, I did also feel lonely.

We were all lonely. We were a bunch of Bridgets leading the Bridgets. We pretended to be happy when a fuckwit would propose to one of our Bridgets. In reality we were insanely jealous. We all kept waiting for our Daniel Cleavers to morph in to Mark Darcys. Some of them did. Some of them didn't. We managed to pass the time lighting one more cigarette and downing one more glass of wine. We embraced culture and youth and carried on having fun while at the same time hoping our special someone would magically appear at the 7-11 in the "so you forgot to feed your dog, dumb ass" aisle the same exact day/moment you too forgot to buy kitty litter at the grocery store (must be fate!).

Eventually I did meet my Mark Darcy. Although he had red hair (rather than black), was in the military (as opposed to being a high powered attorney) and lived in another country (as opposed to the obvious alternative here), he was perfect. After all, he did have an accent, an income and was oh so nice to look at! He was a manly man, strong and stoic. And, I was in love! I was ready to trade in my "Super Single" badge (and my Daniel Cleaver) for the "Two = Team" badge. I was ecstatic.

And, I still am ecstatic. Six years and a child later, I am still happy and (importantly) still laughing. My Mark Darcy isn't perfect. Neither am I. I have accepted that marriage is not what the romance novels are made of. It is more documentary than epic love story. There is no "editing of moments" or "redoing a scene" according to focus group research. Marriage is undeniably real and somewhat gritty. There are no lenses to filter reality or scripts to follow. It is as it is as you live it. And here is the kicker... I think I have found more humor in my married life than I ever did when I was single. Granted, I think my life has some extraordinary circumstances to it, but, throw some dysfunctional family issues, children, friends with certain stock character qualities and immigration in to the mix and you have yourself the makings for some seriously side-splitting comedy.

So, now that you have the background, this is where this story finally begins (as oxymoronic as that sounds). Our family has decided to trade in our "HOO-Rah USA" chant in hopes of finding greener pastures somewhere else. That somewhere else still speaks English (thank God, cuz languages are not my thing beyond cerveza por favor?) and I am married to one of their natives, but I'll be damned if immigration is not proving to be the most trying, and therefore, humor-producing-in-hindsight, sort of experience.

Stayed tuned for adventures in "Escaping the Statue of Liberty".

Posting Recipe...
And...because my single life wreaked of alcohol and simple domesticity, here is one of those quick, simple and alcohol using recipes:

Beer Bread
Preheat over to 350 degrees

3 c. Self-Raising Flour
1/3 cup Sugar
1 can of your favorite beer (try an import!)

Spray one Mix the above together. If you feel like being creative, mix in assorted dry or fresh herbs with some cracked pepper etc... Pour mixture in to a bread pan. Bake for 55 minutes. Serve warm with butter or some type of spread like hummus or garlic dip. And try to eat it all. It isn't the best left-over bread you will ever encounter. But, I guarantee this is a crowd pleaser.