A few recent thoughts.
June 30, 2009
1. It sucked that Michael Jackson died on the same day as Farrah Fawcett. I really think his body should have had more consideration. yes. I am actually irritated about this – she died with dignity after a period of suffering. He died suddenly and the newspapers can cover NOTHING ELSE. Not that I think Farrah’s family should have been bombarded with the press, so maybe it’s a mixed blessing, but I think she deserves a bit more than a wave and a ‘holla’.
2. I don’t really understand why wedding blogs never feature ugly brides. I mean, I get that ugly brides aren’t exactly sellers, but at the same time, there are those of us out there – the girls with the ‘great personality’ and ‘such a pretty face’ that would really like to see ourselves represented among the weddings of style and fun. Skinny Minnie with her never-ending budget and flat ass simply don’t inspire. Show me that I can be beautiful too – in terms other than simply because I’m radiant and in love. Barf.
3. Work is weighing on me. I simply don’t understand how someone can avoid asking for my help then get angry when I’m unable to catch up mentally when they try to sum up the problem for me. And that’s really all I can say. Dang it, I need a venting space.
4. Knee is still working on me. So is the ankle. I love that I’m so graceful. Love that I’ve been unable to workout for two weeks now. Love that I’m going to have to play catch up. Love that I really want fried chicken for dinner.
I won’t have it. But it sounds GOOD.
5. Nick’s coming down in a few weeks for counseling/engagement party. This should be somewhat interesting, as I am going to wear a dress and I’m still fat. I think he’s still looking for that magic pill for me. Krista found it – I want it too. Not really, but sometimes it would be good to have an easy button. I’m getting excited about the wedding, but can’t help but think that I’m too young to get married. That’s this week’s version of cold feet. Too young. at 29. Then again, I’m not entirely sure why I’m not living at home, playing on swing sets and napping after school anymore. So perhaps this is just one of those periods in my life where I look in the mirror and am surprised at the age of the person staring back at me.
6. My grandmother is moving to Florida in August. I find this annoying, as I’ve had her around my entire life, am incredibly close to her, and don’t feel sorry for the family that moved away from her. They got to keep my grandfather – why can’t I keep Mamaw? I recognize the hypocrisy of this statement considering, but it doesn’t make me feel it any less.
7. I’ve a hankering for milk glass recently. I’m not sure why – it appeals to my need for cleanliness and classiness. But. I don’t have any. I need to have more money. and milk glass. I wonder if it would be weird to register for an entire collection on a whim.
8. I miss my Granny. My sister and her family are moving into Gran’s house – which is next door to my parents. I envy her that. I envy several people lots of things at the moment, even though my life is good. It’s complicated. I wish it weren’t nearly as much as it is. I wish things happened because they were right.
But life isn’t fair and that’s why. The right doesn’t happen. I guess because so many people get to define right on Earth out of free will. Not quite as many judges in Heaven. That’s good, I suppose. Well, definitely good, but I sometimes wish I could make sure that the good ones – like Abbey – were taken care of on Earth as well as Heaven.
But we get no assurances.
Well, rainbows. And that’s good – I probably wouldn’t make much of a boat builder.
Coloring books sure have changed…
June 24, 2009
After spending an hour or so gathering up things I wanted from my grandmother’s house – the one that died a little over a year ago, I ran across a page that my little sister had colored for her during her younger days.
It was a picture of a dog. Two dogs. One on each side… One slightly different than the other.
Let’s see if you can spot the differences…
Inspiration.
June 18, 2009
Can I just tell you how inspiring wedding blogs are?
And how addictive?
And even worse… how addictive invitation blogs are?!!?
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a paper freak.
I love the textures and feel.
I love cards.
I love designs.
I love words.
And I feel something stirring inside of me that I haven’t felt for such a long time.
Artistic motivation.
A twinge of energy and excitement.
And it’s not just for my wedding…
Just all those beautiful options!
It sucks to not be more creative sometimes.
To have the eye but not the ability.
But still, there’s something here.
And that possibility is exciting.
I would love to love something most every day.
While the sun shines.
June 17, 2009
A good friend of mine likes to describe things that fill her with pleasure as ‘happy.’
Those could be shoes. Fabrics. Yarn. Cars. Events. Grass. Trees. Moments. Words. Anything, really.
I choose to call them sunshine-y.
Not really a word, I suppose.
But some things are pure sunshine.
The smell after a rainstorm. My puppies. My daughter’s laugh. Home. Nick pulling him to me while we’re sleeping. Naughty Monkey shoes. Nordstrom. certain songs. The City Museum in St. Louis. Daffodils.
I think I’ve reached the point where I’m starting to find a glimpse of sunshine in most everything in my life.
Perhaps out of pure necessity.
Stress makes you do strange things, and while I wouldn’t consider myself an optimist – far from it, I’m not dead.
So, those are my little rays of sunshine.
Wedding planning brings lots of sunshine into my life.
My shoes – they are absolutely glowing with pure sunshine.
My friends.
Shopping for shoes for the girls – realizing the awesome awful pairs out there keeps me giggling for hours.
Nick… even during our downs he keeps trying – and that’s the sign of character. True character.
I’ve been going over song planning in my head – music is very important to me, and I want to set the right tone for my day.
And as I was listening to Pandora, “I’m Yours” by Jason Mraz came on.
Silly fun song, I love it.
And it just hit me.
That song is pure sunshine.
And I don’t care how hard it may be to sway to in the beat – Nick and I are just uncoordinated enough to mess up any beat anyway – that tone of pure gloriously happy sunshine stands for everything that I want my wedding day to be.
I’m his.
He’s mine.
We fell despite ourselves.
And I love that.
Is that Armani?
June 10, 2009
I’m marrying him for his fashion sense.
Doggy Support.
June 10, 2009
I had the most interesting conversations yesterday.
It’s always interesting when you learn things about yourself and/or your friends.
I won’t go into too much detail because I believe that friendships are precious things and that serious conversations between two people should generally remain so.
But regardless, there is a lot of love in this world – in my world.
A lot of caring people who care enough to lay it out on the line for me – to brave that I might snap back, or that I might take offense.
But how could I?
Love isn’t always tactful.
That’s one of my favorite things about love actually.
Sure, you don’t ever want to hurt the people you care about, but love itself, well… it doesn’t hide from a conversation you HAVE to have. Lust/Like/Infatuation can put things off until later. But love? Love tends to word vomit in the middle of dinner – or just before bedtime – or during an off moment after a bad day at work.
Love always hates it when it stings, but understands that sometimes pain comes regardless – and that many times it leads to something better.
How many people have been through hard times/heartbreak only to come out victorious on the other side of that particular mountain?
Exactly.
I would never chose to be lied to when it mattered.
When I am asking about a new outfit, yes.
But about the things that eek at your brain? Your thoughts?
But sometimes love IS tactful.
Sometimes it takes a moment before it speaks.
Sometimes stepping around my pride means an extra moment when I realize and thank GOD that the person who makes me nuttier than anyone else on the planet also knows how to talk me down from an emotional wreckage mountain, how to make me laugh after tears, how to comfort me just out of pure acceptance, how to help without making my sense of self worth shake.
Sometimes love means doggy support.
Those three little missing words.
June 9, 2009
Though I’d rather avoid the unfortunate trap of blogging about one subject… and one subject only, there seems to be a wealth of things going on in my life that I CAN’T blog about.
For several reasons.
1. I want to keep my job.
2. If I go postal, I don’t want folks to know I sort of knew it could maybe somehow perhaps happen.
3. I really just don’t want a bunch of weirdos asking me about them.
So we’re really only stuck with the wedding subject.
(If you’ve never been to my site before, elope and elope NOW. Unless, of course, you’re already married – they frown on more than one of those in the US.)
Now.
Most folks have been to a wedding in their lifetime.
Many more than one.
Some have been in weddings.
Certain seemingly small aspects matter much more than they would in another context.
For instance.
“Bob, do you like root beer?”
“I do.”
See? No rings exchanged, no money being thrown down the tube for some overwhelmingly bizarredly expensive custom.
The words were the same.
In a wedding, if they were left out, you’d certainly notice.
But there are other words that make a difference, I’ve found.
Not nearly as important.
No.
Not remotely.
But still – when missing, they make a difference.
And those words, my friends, are “Save”, “the” and “Date”.
Because if your stationary company happens to make a mistake and leave those words out – and you send out a cute-but-kitschy save the date without it, you will get several reactions.
1. You’ll get compliments on your ‘original’ invitations.
2. You’ll get ‘wow…’ and a long pause on your ‘unique’ invitations.
3. Your mother will get a phone call questioning whether or not you realized that you didn’t word the invitation formally as you should have, didn’t include enough information, and are websites now supposed to be included on the invites?
Le sigh.
I’m exhausted with the confusion even in broken French.
Or in the Mississippi version of French.
Lay Sigh.
There is NOTHING quite like getting your first official wedding present from your registry…
UNLESS it’s looking at your registry and realizing that some of the other things that you totally and completely loved… someone(s) has bought… and it will eventually be in your greedy little hands.
My materialistic side emerges…
Back and forth
June 3, 2009
I think Nick and I are both experiencing our share of cold feet lately.
It’s one thing to love someone and want to spend your life with them.
Quite another to live 29 years as a single person and get married at the height of your self-absorbed wisdom and knowledge that it’s not necessary to marry someone to spend your life with them.
And what is the big fear with that word?
I’m not sure, but I find myself hearing constantly, every day, that it’s not worth it, and that alone is enough to make me want to clench my eyes closed, jump through the hoop of fire, and find myself on the other side WITHOUT having to think about it first.
I know that he’s a good man, that our relationship is strong, and that I want a future with him.
But the logistics?
How? When? Why?
How do we get married and live together after not even being able to date in the same city for over 2 years?
Even when we were in the same city, spending time together on a longer term basis was hard for both of us.
We needed space, needed alone time, and well, when you’re sharing a bed, where do you find it?
I think that it says something that we acknowledge that this is huge and are willing to still do this, instead of backing away slowly as to avoid a fatal strike.
But at the same time, there is a small mountain of fear in the OCD side of my brain that goes through ridiculous amounts of Single Person Worries in the same tone that someone facing a firing squad might use.
WHAT IF he leaves wet towels on the floor?!!?
WHAT IF he doesn’t clean up after he shaves?!
WHAT IF he leaves his computer cords stashed around every room?!!!!
WHAT IF he DOESN’T RINSE OFF the dishes in the sink before putting them in the dishwasher?!!?
And the simple answer is, I’ll live. He’ll live. (maybe.)
Rather ridiculous that those nightmares are the things that keep me up at night, instead of the worries about whether or not we’ve grown too far apart.
I don’t worry as much about that.
We have stayed fairly close – we’ve grown some. He’s matured in some ways that I hadn’t expected. And has lost patience in other ways that are only a sign of being apart.
Same with me, I figure.
I don’t worry about that as much as I do the getting used to living with someone.
To having to check with someone.
I haven’t had to check with someone about a decision I’ve made since I was… oh, around 16 or so.
13 years.
This will be new.
Back and forth, back and forth.
A seesaw of minute problems that don’t even exist except in my mind.
I suppose it’s nice not to worry about the bigger things.
And it is.
At least, until I remember the dirty dishes.
