My Big, Fat, Gypsy Adventure

   Guilty pleasures add spice to an otherwise dreary existence.  For some, guilty pleasures are rehabilitative, moral-boosting activities, like eating chocolate while crying softly to Celine Dion or watching Rudy for the millionth time, chanting RUDY, RUDY along with the crowd. For others, the pleasure is more guilty than anything else, an action one keeps hidden from the world for fear that a mere mention in its direction will incite a riot amongst your friends, family, and respective canines.  Examples of the latter include, but are not limited to: a deadly biker man enjoying luxurious pedicures once a month, a suburban housewife heading to the range to fire off her M-16 when the stress of constantly acting happy finally wears off, and a certain huntress watching a certain show about gypsy weddings.

    "My Big, Fat Gypsy Wedding"* may be one of the best shows ever aired by TLC.  It combines the drama of planning a wedding with the grandiosity of the gypsy lifestyle.  If you haven't had the pleasure of watching this train wreck of a show, let me paint you a picture of how these confusing affairs tend to go: 

        1) Boy meets 15-18 year old girl.

        2) Boy, without ever spending alone time with 15-18 year old girl, proposes.  She, of course, says yes. 

         3) Girl prepares to leave family where she's been acting as Cinderella since she quit school at 13 to raise all the children her mother no longer wants to watch.

         (Are you starting to see why I absolutely, secretively love this show?)

        4) Girl plans for wedding she's been drooling over since she was 4; Her dress, conveniently enough, hails from her childhood mind as well. The gowns portrayed in the show barely, if ever, fit down the isle.  They generally weigh more than 70 pounds and span my height in circumference.  Extra points are added if the dress lights up, is either pink or purple, catches on fire, has pictures of cats on it, or obscures the bride completely, acting as a literal shield against the proceedings to come.

        5) The wedding happens.  The girl, her army of bridesmaids, and her partially-clothed mother, scream over details, get thrown out of reception venues and get stuck while attempting to exit or enter the 87-person stretch hummer limo.  Meanwhile, the future groom goes to the pub, gets wasted, struggles up to the isle, gawks at the tissue-paper-wrapped bride, barely says "I do", then returns to the reception to drink away the woes of being married to a girl who can barely spell "orange". 

   The weddings, as bizarre as they seem to us here in the States, are commonplace to the European gypsies who primarily dwell in campers at campsites where they are free to box, wear little to no clothing, and plan their future nuptials all the while holding steadfast to their moral principals.  I, amazingly enough, am happy to find that the degree of separation between my beloved show and what I consider reality is becoming smaller by the day.  This is because DU and I have decided to host a big, gigantic, over-the-top, gaudy wedding move across the country, in a home on wheels of our very own.

    You may have noticed that as of late, my posts have been few and far between.  You may have also noticed, given your keen perception of everything going on in my life, that we aren't doing a whole lot of hunting lately.  This is because we have decided to do away with life in North Carolina, the land where we met, fell in love, and got engaged.  Oscar passed away here, Dixie's namesake was borne from here, Rudy filmed me here, Avery was adopted here, HLYH even began here; yet we do not want to be here any longer.

   Two weeks ago, DU interviewed with a railroad company in Bismarck, North Dakota.  During his visit, he fell in love with the open spaces, the beautiful people, and the breathtaking hunting lands.  He also scored five interviews in two short days, jobs that were paying twice what he would have made here.  I, likewise, have my sights on a job that I have also interviewed.  I will make my primary trek to the unpopulated, cold land on May 1st to conduct a face-to-face interview for a job that is more of a dream than anything else.

    Yesterday, DU received a formal offer from one of the job interviews in Bismarck.  Upon hearing the benefits, salary, and hours, he quickly accepted.  In so doing, he turned this life of struggle, monotony, and mundane into an adventure.  Leaving here will be difficult, any move, especially those that will take over 30 hours to complete, is difficult but this will be much more so. We're saying goodbye to most of our possessions, friends, and the wedding we had begun planning so many months ago.  In the place of all that, we're greeting new lives, new friends, new adventures, and a less stress-induced wedding sometime in the future.

    During his extensive research into everything Bismarck, DU came across a law that stipulated that it is illegal for unmarried couples to cohabit. Therefore, it seems that I am not long for the non-wedded world. I will become Mrs. DU, albeit sans the big wedding which will surely happen once we're settled, at the same time that I will become a whole host of different things as well. I will (hopefully) become an amazing associate editor for an equally amazing company.  I will become a trailer-dweller (close to a sea monster or Sasquatch in folklore, without the tentacles and multitudinous fingers).  I will become a nomad,  I will become a huntress who takes chances and makes change when absolutely necessary.  Most of all, for me at least, I will become an adventurer; I will stop merely existing and begin truly living.

      "She is clothed in strength and dignity,

and she laughs

without fear for the future"

Proverbs 31:25

* This is a satirical representation of the show.  I have nothing against Gypsies, their lifestyle or their weddings.  I simply find the show absurd, which probably does not accurately represent the gypsies, their lives, or their weddings.  Hence, if you are offended by this post, please be aware that it was not written with malice intent. 

**Please Note: This whole process will be documented, for the most part on Twitter. So, if you haven't, please follow @WritingHuntress for this lovely transformation. 

*** Many thanks go out to our amazing families for supporting our insane whims, our friends who have bought our entire lives from underneath us, and to all of you, my dearest readers, for it is your patronage that got me here today.  To all of you, with my sincerest heart; thank you, thank you, thank you.