Retreat!

So we went on the Marriage Preparation Retreat last weekend. And it was awful. More awful than I ever imagined. I think that I had modeled my assumptions about what it would be like on the Simpsons episode where they go on a weekend marriage retreat. You know, some sitting on the couch complaining about each other, and then a bunch of fishing.

(I couldn't find the video I was looking for...and then spent an hour watching Simpsons clips on Hulu. I miss when that show was funny.)

This weekend was much different. First of all, I assumed there may have been 5 or 6 couples. I don't know why I thought that, possibly because I thought more than that would require a great deal more couches to rest upon. We got there and it was like a swarm. There were easily 60 couples there. And we were all packing into the "auditorium" which was code for "room full of REALLY uncomfortable chairs." They looked deceptively padded, but when you actually sat it was like sitting on a piece of plywood. The second day I sat on Tom's sweatshirt because I was still sore from the previous day.

Anyway, so we get there. And we're sitting in the auditorium. And we're being lectured to about marriage by two couples, and a crazy priest. They talk about marriage for half an hour and then we're separated (men stay in the room, women go outside) to fill out worksheets. After 15 minutes, the guys in the auditorium leave to find their fiances outside and "share" their answers/feelings. Of course between Tom and I there was less "sharing" of feelings about marriage and more sharing about the feeling we had toward people lying on the grass with their heads in each other's laps. What is this? Some kind of cheesy commercial? Are you going to feed each other grapes? Everyone's holding hands, in the auditorium they have their arms around each other. It's weird. They even did mass on Sunday and everyone IN CHURCH is touching each other. Not. Cool.

Okay, sorry for the digression. You have to realize...watching 120 people fawning over each other like high school kids in "love" for 2 days straight is pretty little painful. Especially when the majority of them are so unattractive you're just hoping that they don't breed. You know....for the sake of humanity. So, back to the worksheets. Here's a glimpse:

Q: After we are married, if we disagree on a spending issue, who will have the last word?
Tom: Whoever speaks slower.

Q: (Blah blah certain situation) What were my fiance's thoughts and feelings?
Tom: No idea. She was probably thinking about cake. (He's right.)

Q: Do I feel called by the Church to be matrimonied to you?
Tom: I refuse to answer on the grounds that the word "matrimonied" is featured.
Me: I don't know- could you not find a real verb for this?

Q: Is my decision to have a Catholic wedding a free and honest one?
Me: No. The church is charging like $700. It's ridiculous.

Q: What would you like your fiance to do differently when you disagree?
Me: My bidding.

Q: Name some ways I can make a decision to love my fiance when:

• I feel angry at him/her: Physically
• I don't feel like talking: Physically
• My fiance is angry at me: Physically
• I realize I have hurt my fiance: Call EMTs.
  

You can tell that we really worked hard on these. :-p What we actually worked hard on was correcting the worksheets. There were so many grammatical errors. And they're dated from 2001. In 8 years no one has corrected these?! Fiance is spelled incorrectly on every page. And they have these little gems: "What would I most want you, my beloved to change?" There's another comma in there people!! AUGH! Painful.

Anyway, we sat through it. Even though it was the first absolutely beautiful weekend of the year. It was 80 degrees all weekend and we're either sitting in the world's most uncomfortable auditorium or out in my 80 degree car pondering whether we could drive away and still be given our certificates. Included were calculations of how many couples we could take out with the getaway car. Bonus!

So, mission accomplished. And now I understand why Catholics don't get divorced. It's not worth the possibility that you may have to sit through that weekend again. Cripes.