It was a whirlwind romance, and my head is still spinning. I’m sure yours is, too. But, speaking for myself, it’s been the best nine hours of my life.
Now that you’ve agreed to become Mrs. Frank Johnson-Johnson, there are a few things I should probably tell you about myself. Nobody’s perfect, and I’m sure I have my share of quirks and peccadilloes.
Let’s see…
I’m a longtime bachelor, so I’m a bit set in my ways.
I’ve been known to leave the cap off the toothpaste tube, and I’m always misplacing my keys.
I’m a grouch until I’ve had my morning coffee, but after that I’m the same guy you fell in love with this afternoon.
I snore. But the good news is that I don’t go to bed until four A.M., due to chronic insomnia.
I don’t look my age (whatever that is).
I never finished college. I never started college.
I have a criminal record.
I don’t want to just share our friends; I’d like to exchange them.
I can read lips, though I hear just fine.
I have helmet hair. (I like to wear a football helmet.)
I’m a bit absent-minded. Sometimes my socks don’t match. Sometimes my shoes don’t match. Sometimes I try entering my old apartment because I’ve forgotten that I moved and the police are called.
My hobby is collecting moths, so I’m often out of town attending lepidopterist conventions. Fortunately, this doesn’t interfere with my job. (Someday I’d love tell you all about what I do for a living!)
I’d like us to have a swear jar. And a bad-grammar jar. But not a lie jar.
Favorite color: black.
Favorite song: “Escape (The Pina Colada Song).”
Favorite book: “Jonathan Livingston Seagull.”
Favorite movie: “Death in Venice.”
Favorite composer: John Philip Sousa.
Favorite uncle: Uncle Jerry.
Favorite eggs: brown.
Lucky number: 0.
I eat crackers in bed, so I hope you don’t mind a few crumbs. I put peanut butter on them, so I hope you don’t mind a few brown smears on the sheets.
I believe in large insurance policies. And Wills. But not prenuptial agreements.
It’s possible that I have grown children.
I dance like no one is watching. I eat that way, too.
I can’t drive. Or read.
I don’t recycle. Or vote.
I have no diseases. I have no genetic abnormalities that have been proven to my satisfaction.
I’m allergic to cats, peanuts, and something (or someone) they haven’t identified yet.
Jesus Christ is my personal lord and savior.
I can quit alcohol and drugs any time I decide to. I don’t smoke, but I’m thinking about it.
I’ve been advised not to have (any more) children.
I hope you like eating dinner in front of the TV.
I’m a twin. Expect some practical jokes!
Sometimes I like to wear a disguise.
When I do sleep, I like to have the windows open. And I like bars on the windows.
I can’t legally enter New Jersey.
My middle name is Robinette.
I don’t have a fear of commitment (the romantic kind, anyway).
I play the didgeridoo in an aborigine bar.
I love silent movies. In fact, when a movie is a talkie, I turn the sound off.
I don’t believe it’s the husband’s job to manage finances. Or the wife’s.
I believe in discussing problems as they arise, and not before. And I believe in saving up problems and discussing them all at once; twelve problems per session is my threshold.
I need three alarm clocks to wake up, and they have to be in three separate rooms.
I believe computer passwords are sacrosanct.
I drink milk from the carton while standing in front of the refrigerator with the door open. The milk washes down a slice of cheese wrapped in a slice of bologna.
I’m willing to live anywhere (except New Jersey).
I don’t believe in long engagements, or lengthy divorces.
I’m in a 12-step program, but I’ve been stuck on Step One for five years.
I like to travel. I’ll write you long, romantic letters while I’m away!
If I die first I don’t want you to remarry. If you die first, I’ll remain single. If we die violently at the same time, great.
I speak two languages. Not to ag-bray.
I believe secrets are healthy. Don’t ask me why.
When I’m lost, I ask for directions. When I’m lonely, I ask for a hug. When I’m thirsty, I ask for Dos Equis.
I’m a neat freak. Hold the neat.
I go commando on weekends and holidays.
My financial picture changes hourly, so I can’t really provide a snapshot.
I don’t believe in hyphenating names after marriage, but I do like adding umlauts over some of the vowels.
I don’t feel the need to feed my fragile male ego by being the breadwinner.
When I say I’m going to change for dinner, I’m referring to my personality.
My recipe for whitefish salad is the envy of the tri-state area.
Mi debts, su debts.
In a past life, I was a horse.
I’ve never been divorced.
I’m not a pet person, unless you count dead moths.
Trust is a two-way street. Respect is a winding coastal highway. Forgiveness is a suburban cul-de-sac.
What constitutes cheating? Discuss!
I believe a thermostat is an instrument of punishment.
I believe in never going to bed angry. Or hungry.
I’m a Pisces, so I have hundreds of fish tchotchkes in my bedroom.
I don’t like public displays of affection, unless they can be monetized.
I suffer from ablutophobia (fear of bathing).
The number of women I’ve slept with seems large, but only compared to the number of men I’ve slept with
In high school, I was the class clown. I still sometimes wear clown shoes.
When I die, I want my ashes divided into fifty parts, and scattered in all fifty states, except I want New Jersey replaced by Guam.
I’m a Swiftie.
My parents are brother and sister.
I think that’s everything.
Your turn!
