  &emailalert=no&email=adgrant@indiana.edu&url=http://closeproximity.blogspot.com&name=Proximity&bgcolor=003399&fcolor=FFFFFF&link=FFFFCC&words=comments&title=Comments &width=350&height=350"> In light of the fact that I am almost done with my crapass MA and that my wedding is looming closer on the horizon, a new "breed" of excited relatives/family friends/crazy people has emerged. Since we're all still at the age when the question "what are your (life) plans? " is applicable, I have been bombarded with that one lately.
When I say, "almost done with school; need to look for jobs; get married; have a panic attack, etc;" women squeal: "Pretty soon you'll be a Mrs.!!! " Then, I either punch them in the face or vomit all over their soccer mom outfits. Now, ok. Technically, I will be a Mrs., I suppose. I just don't think of myself that way. I'm Shannon. Shan. Booty. ShanDog. Boots. Booty Coogan. Natalie! Did it ever occur to anyone that I really could give a shit at this point in my young life if anyone knows I am a Mrs.? NO. Of course, I don't take marriage lightly and I have no problem with being married, but, if all these morons are going to go around calling me Mrs. Hautman because it's cute, I don't think I can handle that.
And, I'm not even getting into the whole name change aspect, because I can't make up my freakin' mind about that. It's just crazy how much of a novelty being a Mrs. is... It's like a weird remnant of the 1950's "now your life can really begin because you are married" crap. Bottom line: Nobody ever spazzes out about the MA; just the MRS. So, ladies, choose your titles wisely. 
