Random people keep asking me "how's married life?!" Honestly? Look at our lives right now. Here's how "married life" is:
We spent three days together, at home, after our wedding. Three days. That's a holiday weekend for most of you. In that time, I hobbled around and tried desperately to find something - anything - sexy about my boot. Not so much on this new bride. Hindrance, not hot.
After three days, we both went back to work. Had to. Remember, this is, after all, a depression.
One week after The Wedding, we had a check-up at the ortho dr., where, of course, we scheduled my surgery. Since then we've been planning and prepping for me to be in a cast for 8 to 10 to 12 weeks, then in a boot - again - for 8 to 10 to 12 more. We've bought a deep freezer, grocery shopped for 2 months at a time, moved furniture, bought new gates and moved tie-outs for the dog, looked for people to come watch me sleep so Gary can go to work... and the list goes on. We have not slowed down one second since The Wedding, it's just different stuff. We are both exhausted, but not in the "traditional" honeymoon way. Our days together are really no different than they've been since we've known each other - about the same as they've been for the last seven, five, three, or less years. We've got to take care of ourselves, and be there to help each other. And we're doing it.
I will say though that after being together this long, most things didn't change when we said I do. But some did.
I have a much deeper respect for Gary than I had before. I adore him on a completely different level than I did even 6 weeks ago. We haven't even received our marriage license back yet, and still, my commitment to him feels so much stronger than it ever did, more than I knew it could be.
So how is married life? Not much different than not-married life with us, really. Commitment is commitment. Love is love. Being there is being there. And we've both been here for a long time - and plan to be here for a long time to come.
I am sad we had to start our marriage like this. I would have rather worn smokin' hot heels than the boot, cute little lingerie rather than a cast, and anything's got to be sexier than crutches.
But still... I know us and I know we'll get through this. We'll push and push and push until one day we wake up and we have more time and space to focus on us. I have no fear. We can do that in 6 weeks, 6 months or in 6 years - but I know no matter what we'll make it work. So to answer your question honestly, people - that's how married life is for us.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Honeymoon & Heartbreak
Despite being our second week of marriage, the last several days have been quite heavy on the heart. On Monday we found out that I will not be able to avoid surgery on my foot. On October 5th, they will take part of the bone in my heel and move it to another place in my foot. There, they will also put a plate and screws. I will be in a cast with crutches for 8 weeks. Then I will spend another 8 weeks or so in a boot - again. And then we'll have PT. We're hoping I'll be able to drive by my birthday. In February. Preparing for surgery is by far nothing new to me, but to have to jump right into the "in sickness and in health" vow is very bothersome.
On Wednesday, after having a day or so to let it all soak in, I had to call and quit my second job. Yes, there were a few Saturday mornings where I really didn't care about lotion and all things girlie, I just wanted to stay home with my honey and my doggie, but for the most part, I really, really enjoyed my part-time gig at BBW. I started the job thinking it would last a few months, until we got into the new house, but I worked there for 2 1/2 years. I wouldn't have quit except that I've already been off for 8 weeks, and I'll need to be off for another 20. Minimum. I really did like going there. I love girlie stuff. And smelly stuff. And things that make my skin feel good. And I love good sales. And there are several people there I genuinely truly enjoyed spending time with. And getting paid for it didn't hurt.
Today, we started the paperwork to file the insurance claim to cancel the honeymoon. This - this - is breaking my heart.
Now, I have been told we should be about our marriage, not our honeymoon, and believe me, we are. And we know my prognosis could have been a lot, lot worse. We are not strangers to freak accidents, and we know my injuries could have been ones that last our lifetimes, not just our first year of marriage. I also know that I am grateful beyond words. I know Gary will be here to take care of me for another 20 weeks or another 20 after that. He's been doing it for years.
One Christmas Eve he sent me home from work when I was flu-ish and running a fever of 102 - and he got my shift covered on Christmas day. Let that sink in. I was sick as a dog and he got my shift covered - on Christmas day. After my last oophorectomy in 2003, one afternoon I woke up from a morphine-induced nap and he was standing by my bedside. When I dropped a butcher block on my toenail he picked me up from the emergency room. He stuck by me for years while I struggled to get my hormones to a tolerable level. My husband has been with me, in sickness and in health, for as long as I have known him. And I have no doubt in the next 20 weeks he won't bitch (much) when he has to do all of the laundry, the grocery shopping, walk the dog, carry me, and carry us. I know I am married to the most amazing man I've ever met, and that I am the luckiest girl in the world. And for that I am truly grateful. But that doesn't mean I'm not sad.
We planned our honeymoon for months. We weighed so many options. Where did we want to go? What did we want out of a post-wedding vacation? Well, here's what we wanted: I wanted a beach. We both wanted golf. We wanted all-inclusive. We wanted free adult beverages and delightful meals. I wanted couples massages. We wanted to climb waterfalls and zoom down ziplines in the jungle. We wanted 24-hour room service so we could order warm chocolate chip cookies and ice cold milk at 2:00 in the morning, just like at Kingsmill. We wanted to go away alone and we vowed to leave our work phones at home. We wanted time together - away from everything else. Finally.
And today, we cancelled our honeymoon.
We planned, prepared and packed for it for 13 months. I have a place in the closet where we've put everything we didn't want to forget. Sunscreen. Aqua socks. Bathing suits. A small brown purse with killer heels that match. I've dreamed about this fairytale vacation with him for as long as I can remember. We had a one bedroom honeymoon oceanview villa with a private pool. And someone to bring us chocolate chip cookies or tequila whenever we wanted it.
And instead, I'm typing this, sitting on our couch. The same one we've sat on or snuggled on or sometimes slept on for years. The same couch where I'll be spending the time I had taken off for our honeymoon. Where instead I'll be crashing or crying in a few weeks, with a cast on my leg, new hardware in my foot, and the most amazing husband ever by my side.
On Wednesday, after having a day or so to let it all soak in, I had to call and quit my second job. Yes, there were a few Saturday mornings where I really didn't care about lotion and all things girlie, I just wanted to stay home with my honey and my doggie, but for the most part, I really, really enjoyed my part-time gig at BBW. I started the job thinking it would last a few months, until we got into the new house, but I worked there for 2 1/2 years. I wouldn't have quit except that I've already been off for 8 weeks, and I'll need to be off for another 20. Minimum. I really did like going there. I love girlie stuff. And smelly stuff. And things that make my skin feel good. And I love good sales. And there are several people there I genuinely truly enjoyed spending time with. And getting paid for it didn't hurt.
Today, we started the paperwork to file the insurance claim to cancel the honeymoon. This - this - is breaking my heart.
Now, I have been told we should be about our marriage, not our honeymoon, and believe me, we are. And we know my prognosis could have been a lot, lot worse. We are not strangers to freak accidents, and we know my injuries could have been ones that last our lifetimes, not just our first year of marriage. I also know that I am grateful beyond words. I know Gary will be here to take care of me for another 20 weeks or another 20 after that. He's been doing it for years.
One Christmas Eve he sent me home from work when I was flu-ish and running a fever of 102 - and he got my shift covered on Christmas day. Let that sink in. I was sick as a dog and he got my shift covered - on Christmas day. After my last oophorectomy in 2003, one afternoon I woke up from a morphine-induced nap and he was standing by my bedside. When I dropped a butcher block on my toenail he picked me up from the emergency room. He stuck by me for years while I struggled to get my hormones to a tolerable level. My husband has been with me, in sickness and in health, for as long as I have known him. And I have no doubt in the next 20 weeks he won't bitch (much) when he has to do all of the laundry, the grocery shopping, walk the dog, carry me, and carry us. I know I am married to the most amazing man I've ever met, and that I am the luckiest girl in the world. And for that I am truly grateful. But that doesn't mean I'm not sad.
We planned our honeymoon for months. We weighed so many options. Where did we want to go? What did we want out of a post-wedding vacation? Well, here's what we wanted: I wanted a beach. We both wanted golf. We wanted all-inclusive. We wanted free adult beverages and delightful meals. I wanted couples massages. We wanted to climb waterfalls and zoom down ziplines in the jungle. We wanted 24-hour room service so we could order warm chocolate chip cookies and ice cold milk at 2:00 in the morning, just like at Kingsmill. We wanted to go away alone and we vowed to leave our work phones at home. We wanted time together - away from everything else. Finally.
And today, we cancelled our honeymoon.
We planned, prepared and packed for it for 13 months. I have a place in the closet where we've put everything we didn't want to forget. Sunscreen. Aqua socks. Bathing suits. A small brown purse with killer heels that match. I've dreamed about this fairytale vacation with him for as long as I can remember. We had a one bedroom honeymoon oceanview villa with a private pool. And someone to bring us chocolate chip cookies or tequila whenever we wanted it.
And instead, I'm typing this, sitting on our couch. The same one we've sat on or snuggled on or sometimes slept on for years. The same couch where I'll be spending the time I had taken off for our honeymoon. Where instead I'll be crashing or crying in a few weeks, with a cast on my leg, new hardware in my foot, and the most amazing husband ever by my side.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Hopefully by now, if you weren't here, you've had a chance to watch the video of the ceremony. Unfortunately, you can't hear much of it, and some things aren't entirely clear. So here are the answers to a few questions we've received from online guests...
The precious boys in blue are Gary's nephews. You may remember that we had originally planned to get married on the beach, and that Gary proposed to me on the sand at Virginia Beach. His sister scooped up some sand when we were there last spring and sent it to me. (I still get made fun of at work for getting a box full of sand in the mail.) The "sandmen" are spreading the sand from Virginia Beach so we could - sort of - get married on the beach.
Here's the story on the flowers, so you know that we didn't originally intend for Gary to wear a sunflower "the size of a satellite dish" on his lapel. We got the flowers from Jones Valley Urban Farm in Birmingham. It was important to us to buy fresh and buy local. On Saturday, my mom, stepmom, sisters-in-law, a few other wonderful and wonderfully talented ladies and I went to the farm. The fabulous folks at JVUF cut us a ton of flowers, and then turned us loose with clippers to cut whatever we wanted. So everyone made arrangments, corsages, boot-an-ears, etc., and we also took a ginormous bucket of other cut stuff - just in case anything wilted. Well, some did. At the last minute, we had the weekend coordinator Tabitha Hanner making new bouquets for my entourage out of the extra sunflowers. Gary's back-up boot-an-ear was also a sunflower, because I wanted it to match my bouquet. So, he wore that enormous sunflower. He was sweet enough to wear it for me, so I thought I could at least explain that a big yellow flower was not his choice. And, no, it did not shoot water like a clown flower.
I know unless you were standing pretty close to us, you weren't able to hear our vows. (Although you were able to hear one of the video guys say "She'll kill him" when the judge mispronounced my name. He did correct himself, and only did it once, by the way.) So, anyway, you weren't able to hear our vows, so here they are (or at least what we had planned to say - some things were ad-libbed and well, I forgot part of mine.):
He said:
Little did I know that curly girl I met 7 years ago would one day become my wife.
Our life together has been full of love and laughter... fun and frustration... and help, hope and healing. And I wouldn't have wanted to experience it with anyone else.
You make my good days better and my bad days more tolerable.
Today as we stand here, before family and friends, I offer you my life and my love. And as we take our next steps in this journey, trust me to care for you, protect you and to love you as we become one - one heart, one soul... for the rest of our days.
She said:
For years I prayed that God would put someone in my path whom I could love wholly and completely - and who would love me back.For years, I had no idea I was already spending every day with him. Gary, you are the most amazing man I have ever met. You are caring and courteous, brave and brilliant, gentle and generous. It is a joy and comfort to spend my days and my life with you. I am so blessed. And I truly am the luckiest girl in the world. I love you so wholly and so completely. And you love me back.
We have already been through sickness and health. Through richer and poorer, and better and worse. We know we can make it through that. So today, I promise you that I will always be good to you, I will always take care of you, I will always be here for you. I will pray for you, and I will pray with you. I will listen patiently and laugh quickly. I will believe in you and I will believe in us. I will celebrate your triumphs and support you through tears. And I will put aside my pride and trust you enough to share all of myself with you.
Mostly, I will remember that our marriage is a work in progress. I cannot expect perfection neither from you, nor from myself. I come into this with an open heart, and an open mind, and I know that together, we can make it through anything.
That's all for now. Stay tuned, there's still more funny stuff to come...
The precious boys in blue are Gary's nephews. You may remember that we had originally planned to get married on the beach, and that Gary proposed to me on the sand at Virginia Beach. His sister scooped up some sand when we were there last spring and sent it to me. (I still get made fun of at work for getting a box full of sand in the mail.) The "sandmen" are spreading the sand from Virginia Beach so we could - sort of - get married on the beach.
Here's the story on the flowers, so you know that we didn't originally intend for Gary to wear a sunflower "the size of a satellite dish" on his lapel. We got the flowers from Jones Valley Urban Farm in Birmingham. It was important to us to buy fresh and buy local. On Saturday, my mom, stepmom, sisters-in-law, a few other wonderful and wonderfully talented ladies and I went to the farm. The fabulous folks at JVUF cut us a ton of flowers, and then turned us loose with clippers to cut whatever we wanted. So everyone made arrangments, corsages, boot-an-ears, etc., and we also took a ginormous bucket of other cut stuff - just in case anything wilted. Well, some did. At the last minute, we had the weekend coordinator Tabitha Hanner making new bouquets for my entourage out of the extra sunflowers. Gary's back-up boot-an-ear was also a sunflower, because I wanted it to match my bouquet. So, he wore that enormous sunflower. He was sweet enough to wear it for me, so I thought I could at least explain that a big yellow flower was not his choice. And, no, it did not shoot water like a clown flower.
I know unless you were standing pretty close to us, you weren't able to hear our vows. (Although you were able to hear one of the video guys say "She'll kill him" when the judge mispronounced my name. He did correct himself, and only did it once, by the way.) So, anyway, you weren't able to hear our vows, so here they are (or at least what we had planned to say - some things were ad-libbed and well, I forgot part of mine.):
He said:
Little did I know that curly girl I met 7 years ago would one day become my wife.
Our life together has been full of love and laughter... fun and frustration... and help, hope and healing. And I wouldn't have wanted to experience it with anyone else.
You make my good days better and my bad days more tolerable.
Today as we stand here, before family and friends, I offer you my life and my love. And as we take our next steps in this journey, trust me to care for you, protect you and to love you as we become one - one heart, one soul... for the rest of our days.
She said:
For years I prayed that God would put someone in my path whom I could love wholly and completely - and who would love me back.For years, I had no idea I was already spending every day with him. Gary, you are the most amazing man I have ever met. You are caring and courteous, brave and brilliant, gentle and generous. It is a joy and comfort to spend my days and my life with you. I am so blessed. And I truly am the luckiest girl in the world. I love you so wholly and so completely. And you love me back.
We have already been through sickness and health. Through richer and poorer, and better and worse. We know we can make it through that. So today, I promise you that I will always be good to you, I will always take care of you, I will always be here for you. I will pray for you, and I will pray with you. I will listen patiently and laugh quickly. I will believe in you and I will believe in us. I will celebrate your triumphs and support you through tears. And I will put aside my pride and trust you enough to share all of myself with you.
Mostly, I will remember that our marriage is a work in progress. I cannot expect perfection neither from you, nor from myself. I come into this with an open heart, and an open mind, and I know that together, we can make it through anything.
That's all for now. Stay tuned, there's still more funny stuff to come...
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Wanna watch it live?
Here we go... down to the final hours before The Wedding. If you're not here, we're sorry you're not sharing in this day with us. But you can still watch the ceremony live! Check it out - 1:00 p.m. Central tomorrow. Here: http://asoundidea.com/garyandmariesa
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Monday, August 31, 2009
The Ceremony on the Interwebs...
For those of you who, for various reasons, are not able to attend The Wedding, we will be live streaming it. It will be at 1:00 p.m. Central on Sunday, link to be provided later. You will need to have the most recent Adobe Flash Player installed on your computer - at least Adobe Flash Player 9. I will need your email addresses ahead of time. Not sure why, I'm just being told to get the email addresses of those who will be watching online ahead of time. More details to follow.
Wish you were going to be here, but happy you can still watch live!
Wish you were going to be here, but happy you can still watch live!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Volunteers Needed!
Come one, come all!
I need help doing the flowers. We will only be putting together a couple of "arrangements" - that is to say "things in vases." I've already created all of the centerpieces, so this will be mostly bouquets and the things the guys wear that I can't spell. Boot-an-ear. I have an appointment at Jones Valley Urban Farm in downtown Birmingham at 1:00 on Saturday afternoon. We had the flowers grown especially for The Wedding, so we will need to choose the flowers, have them cut, and then assemble things. I'm really not very particular about this, so hopefully it will be relatively simple - tape, wrap ribbon, move on to the next. Want to help? I need all the hands I can get. Please shoot me an email or call if you are planning to join us so I know how many people to expect - or if you'll be in from out of town and will need a ride, let me know that too.
Thank you in advance for helping make our wedding weekend even that much more special!
~M
I need help doing the flowers. We will only be putting together a couple of "arrangements" - that is to say "things in vases." I've already created all of the centerpieces, so this will be mostly bouquets and the things the guys wear that I can't spell. Boot-an-ear. I have an appointment at Jones Valley Urban Farm in downtown Birmingham at 1:00 on Saturday afternoon. We had the flowers grown especially for The Wedding, so we will need to choose the flowers, have them cut, and then assemble things. I'm really not very particular about this, so hopefully it will be relatively simple - tape, wrap ribbon, move on to the next. Want to help? I need all the hands I can get. Please shoot me an email or call if you are planning to join us so I know how many people to expect - or if you'll be in from out of town and will need a ride, let me know that too.
Thank you in advance for helping make our wedding weekend even that much more special!
~M
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Schedule of Events
Wow! We're less than a week away from the start of The Wedding Weekend! I know everyone from out of town is coming in at different times, so for your planning porpoises ;) here's the schedule of events:
Friday
Dinner at 6:00 for whoever's already in town, or anyone local who wants to attend. Jim & Nick's at Greystone on 280. See Wedding Map for location.
Saturday
Groom's Golf Outing, 7:00 a.m.
Bride's Pamper Outing, (and one-footed pedicure) 9:00 a.m.
Flower cutting and arranging, 1:00 p.m., Jones Valley Urban Farm (Volunteers needed. See next post for more. See Wedding Map for actual location.)
Rehearsal, 4:00 p.m., Vulcan Park
Rehearsal/Family Dinner immediately following, Dreamland, see Wedding Map for location (or follow your nose)
Dessert/Drinks, 7:00-ish, Steele's at the Hilton Perimeter Park (See Wedding Map for location)
Sunday
Ceremony, 1:00 p.m., City Overlook at Vulcan Park
Self-guided tours of Vulcan Park and observation deck just after ceremony
Reception, immediately following, Fleming's at The Summit
After-party - well, afterwards - location TBA
Please take a look at the Wedding Map, it should be quite helpful in getting the lay of the land.
Have questions? Give us a call or shoot us an email.
See you all soon!!!
Friday
Dinner at 6:00 for whoever's already in town, or anyone local who wants to attend. Jim & Nick's at Greystone on 280. See Wedding Map for location.
Saturday
Groom's Golf Outing, 7:00 a.m.
Bride's Pamper Outing, (and one-footed pedicure) 9:00 a.m.
Flower cutting and arranging, 1:00 p.m., Jones Valley Urban Farm (Volunteers needed. See next post for more. See Wedding Map for actual location.)
Rehearsal, 4:00 p.m., Vulcan Park
Rehearsal/Family Dinner immediately following, Dreamland, see Wedding Map for location (or follow your nose)
Dessert/Drinks, 7:00-ish, Steele's at the Hilton Perimeter Park (See Wedding Map for location)
Sunday
Ceremony, 1:00 p.m., City Overlook at Vulcan Park
Self-guided tours of Vulcan Park and observation deck just after ceremony
Reception, immediately following, Fleming's at The Summit
After-party - well, afterwards - location TBA
Please take a look at the Wedding Map, it should be quite helpful in getting the lay of the land.
Have questions? Give us a call or shoot us an email.
See you all soon!!!
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Getting close, don't forget to RSVP!
We're about 35 days from The Wedding. Whoo hoo! Where has the time gone? I turned the calendar to August this morning and our engagement anniversary is THIS MONTH. Wow. (Hey, that sounds like a reason to have dinner at Fleming's!)
So it's getting close, and we're getting excited. And we hope you are, too. Yesterday we got some RSVPs from people I honestly did not think would be able to make it. So, so, so happy that Newport News and Orlando will be represented! We're just thrilled that so many of you love us enough to make the trip! (We do know there are several of you who love us enough, but you simply can't make it. That's why we'll be live-streaming the ceremony, but we'll talk more about that later, once we get the details worked out.)
Please, please, please, if you haven't already, RSVP now. (Grammar Police: I know that was redundant.) You all know me well enough to know I have to have things just so... and many of you have told me about your plans, but have not RSVPd. If you have any trouble doing it, email me. I know there was one issue so far because I left a hyphen out of a hyphenated name. Chances are if you can't get it to work, it's because I did something silly with your name.
We're working on weekend plans right now, so we can try to actually have some time to spend with you. Several of you have asked what you can help with that weekend, and honestly, right now, there's not much. There is one thing I can think of - if anyone is good with flowers and/or would like to help make arrangements, please let me know. Yes, I went to floral school, I know, I know. I *can* do it myself, but it's a lot of work. Especially since I'll still be skipping around on this boot by then. So, if you want to help, please let me know. No pressure here at all, just let me know if that sounds like something fun to do on Saturday at 1:00 p.m. And as for the rest of you - just come to Birmingham and have fun! And please, for us, take the opportunity to get to know someone you don't see every day. Everyone on the guest list is someone who (whom?) we truly enjoy, and we think you'll find you have much more in common that just the two of us.
See you soon!!!
So it's getting close, and we're getting excited. And we hope you are, too. Yesterday we got some RSVPs from people I honestly did not think would be able to make it. So, so, so happy that Newport News and Orlando will be represented! We're just thrilled that so many of you love us enough to make the trip! (We do know there are several of you who love us enough, but you simply can't make it. That's why we'll be live-streaming the ceremony, but we'll talk more about that later, once we get the details worked out.)
Please, please, please, if you haven't already, RSVP now. (Grammar Police: I know that was redundant.) You all know me well enough to know I have to have things just so... and many of you have told me about your plans, but have not RSVPd. If you have any trouble doing it, email me. I know there was one issue so far because I left a hyphen out of a hyphenated name. Chances are if you can't get it to work, it's because I did something silly with your name.
We're working on weekend plans right now, so we can try to actually have some time to spend with you. Several of you have asked what you can help with that weekend, and honestly, right now, there's not much. There is one thing I can think of - if anyone is good with flowers and/or would like to help make arrangements, please let me know. Yes, I went to floral school, I know, I know. I *can* do it myself, but it's a lot of work. Especially since I'll still be skipping around on this boot by then. So, if you want to help, please let me know. No pressure here at all, just let me know if that sounds like something fun to do on Saturday at 1:00 p.m. And as for the rest of you - just come to Birmingham and have fun! And please, for us, take the opportunity to get to know someone you don't see every day. Everyone on the guest list is someone who (whom?) we truly enjoy, and we think you'll find you have much more in common that just the two of us.
See you soon!!!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Bad site - please ignore!
Hey - just wanted to let you all know that there's a wedsite out there for us that's got really, really old information. Those of you who know us well, follow our FB pages, sit down the hall from us - pretty much all of you - know that this information is outdated. (Obviously I'm not running anywhere right now - let alone the Rock N Roll 1/2 Marathon!) Anyway, please ignore our really outdated page at weddingchannel.com. I tried to have it deleted months ago, and, well, there it is...
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Broken foot, not broken spirit
As some of you may have heard, I broke my foot last weekend. I know you'll ask, so here's how: I was walking Bartlet and he walked me - very quickly, down the hill in the backyard, ending with a body slam (mine) onto the concrete stepping stones. The bone is now crooked. We'll find out two weeks from today if I have to have screws put in or not. Having said that, everything is still a go for September 6th. No changes in plans - at least not that should mean any changes for any of you. I have a "zero percent chance" of being out of this boot by then, so I will have to make some changes to my attire. I've never heard of seating for the bride and groom, but you know Gary and me, we like to make things fun as we go along. If we have to start something new, that's what we'll do. At the end of the day, all that matters is that we'll be married to each other, surrounded by as many people as possible who love us and whom we love... even if some are there in spirit, some via the Internet, and one pulled in by red wagon or carried by her new husband.
More fun stuff to come...
Looking forward to seeing you all soon!
More fun stuff to come...
Looking forward to seeing you all soon!
Monday, June 22, 2009
Another hotel suggestion, "schedule" and some other stuff...
A new hotel recently opened up in Homewood - pretty much halfway between the ceremony site and the reception site. I had a client stay there a couple of weeks back and he loved it. It's brand new, in a great location, and has terrific specials. It's called Aloft. It is a Starwood Hotel for those of you tracking your points. Right now you can do buy-one-night-get-one-half-off, buy-two-get-the-third-one-free, something about pay $119 for the first night, then the next two are the year of your birth (not counting the 19) - like I would pay $72 because I was born in 1972. Here's something cool, too, they not only allow pets, they pamper them. One guest is bringing her dog, and she (the dog) gets a special bed, bag of treats and some other fun stuff. There is a self-serve cafe there, as well as a restaurant and bar. It's also in a cool little neighborhood with shops and restaurants and galleries. Mmmmm... check out O'Carrs for a cream cheese and cucumber sandwich on french bread.
Here's some other stuff...
For planning purposes, here's the "schedule" for the weekend. I'm off work starting Wednesday. Feel free to come help me do last-minute stuff.
Friday there will be people arriving. No real plans that day, but hopefully can pull together dinner or drinks or something for whoever is in town.
We're working on some fun stuff for Saturday for those of you who will already be here - optional, of course. Soon we'll give you ideas of things we think you really oughtta do while you're in Birmingham. In the meantime, check out "36 Hours in Birmingham" from the New York Times. There's a link on the left-hand side of this blog. It's under "Things We Love".
The rehearsal is scheduled for 4:00 on Saturday. If you're taking part in the ceremony or are immediate family, please plan to be there. We'll get through it quickly, then we have a special Birmingham treat planned for dinner. The hope is to meet up with everyone else who is in town for dessert and/or drinks afterwards.
On Sunday, the ceremony is scheduled for 1:00, immediately followed by cocktail hour and reception.
We're leaving for Atlanta midday on Monday, but feel free to stay and hang out in The 'Ham if you'd like!
I hope that helps a little for your planning...
In other news - after months of dark clouds, frustration, and anxiety through the roof, I am FINALLY getting excited about The Wedding. I have been fretting and freaked out for so long about the planning. This really has been a quite lonely experience - somewhat sad in a way - but I'm through that part now. I am so blessed that Gary has been so supportive and involved over the last 10 months.
I had my first dress fitting yesterday. Gary finally has his ties in a color close to That Blue. Our dining room has turned in to the "wedding room" - it's full of ... well, stuff for The Wedding. We're getting close now - and I am getting excited! This is going to be a lot of fun! I get to marry the most amazing man I've ever known, we get to hang out with people we love and love to spend time with, and I get to be a real princess for the day - and then, when it's over, I get to spend the rest of my life with the hottest guy on the planet. I really am the luckiest girl in the world...
Here's some other stuff...
For planning purposes, here's the "schedule" for the weekend. I'm off work starting Wednesday. Feel free to come help me do last-minute stuff.
Friday there will be people arriving. No real plans that day, but hopefully can pull together dinner or drinks or something for whoever is in town.
We're working on some fun stuff for Saturday for those of you who will already be here - optional, of course. Soon we'll give you ideas of things we think you really oughtta do while you're in Birmingham. In the meantime, check out "36 Hours in Birmingham" from the New York Times. There's a link on the left-hand side of this blog. It's under "Things We Love".
The rehearsal is scheduled for 4:00 on Saturday. If you're taking part in the ceremony or are immediate family, please plan to be there. We'll get through it quickly, then we have a special Birmingham treat planned for dinner. The hope is to meet up with everyone else who is in town for dessert and/or drinks afterwards.
On Sunday, the ceremony is scheduled for 1:00, immediately followed by cocktail hour and reception.
We're leaving for Atlanta midday on Monday, but feel free to stay and hang out in The 'Ham if you'd like!
I hope that helps a little for your planning...
In other news - after months of dark clouds, frustration, and anxiety through the roof, I am FINALLY getting excited about The Wedding. I have been fretting and freaked out for so long about the planning. This really has been a quite lonely experience - somewhat sad in a way - but I'm through that part now. I am so blessed that Gary has been so supportive and involved over the last 10 months.
I had my first dress fitting yesterday. Gary finally has his ties in a color close to That Blue. Our dining room has turned in to the "wedding room" - it's full of ... well, stuff for The Wedding. We're getting close now - and I am getting excited! This is going to be a lot of fun! I get to marry the most amazing man I've ever known, we get to hang out with people we love and love to spend time with, and I get to be a real princess for the day - and then, when it's over, I get to spend the rest of my life with the hottest guy on the planet. I really am the luckiest girl in the world...
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Hotels and registry
We finally took care of two things many of you have been asking about - checking into hotels and working on our registry. Here's the story on both...
First, hotels.
There are three hotels you might want to consider, based on proximity to festivities and our house, pricing, etc. The first is Candlewood Suites. This place is not The Ritz, but it serves its purpose. The room we saw was very clean, big enough, and had a small kitchenette in it. I think they all have the kitchenettes, actually. There isn't a restaurant, but there is a place where you can buy snacks and take them back to the room and prepare them. This place had a workout room but no pool or hot tub. It's basic, but if our wedding weekend is enough fun and you don't need perks, this will be perfect. It's not even 10 minutes from the reception site, and about 15 to the ceremony site. Here's the best part - it's cheap. Like really cheap. If you book online (different rates online than if you call) you can get a room for about $49.99 - at least that's what my uncle got it for. Make sure you inquire about AARP, AAA, etc. discounts - they offer discounted rates for just about anything. Oh, and the "two bedroom suite" I think has 2 beds (one would think since it's a 2 bedroom), and also has a pull out sofa - so realistically you could put 6 people in one room for about 80 bucks - that is if you're okay with sharing one bathroom with 5 other people.
First, hotels.
There are three hotels you might want to consider, based on proximity to festivities and our house, pricing, etc. The first is Candlewood Suites. This place is not The Ritz, but it serves its purpose. The room we saw was very clean, big enough, and had a small kitchenette in it. I think they all have the kitchenettes, actually. There isn't a restaurant, but there is a place where you can buy snacks and take them back to the room and prepare them. This place had a workout room but no pool or hot tub. It's basic, but if our wedding weekend is enough fun and you don't need perks, this will be perfect. It's not even 10 minutes from the reception site, and about 15 to the ceremony site. Here's the best part - it's cheap. Like really cheap. If you book online (different rates online than if you call) you can get a room for about $49.99 - at least that's what my uncle got it for. Make sure you inquire about AARP, AAA, etc. discounts - they offer discounted rates for just about anything. Oh, and the "two bedroom suite" I think has 2 beds (one would think since it's a 2 bedroom), and also has a pull out sofa - so realistically you could put 6 people in one room for about 80 bucks - that is if you're okay with sharing one bathroom with 5 other people.
The second place was going to be the Wingate Inn right next to the Candlewood, but I decided against it for two reasons. One, we found a better place that's cheaper. Two, there is a typo on their rack card. I'm totally serious about this. It says "Birminham" instead of "Birmingham". These folks not only had a typo, they didn't use spellcheck, and clearly no one (qualified) proofed it before they spent thousands and thousands of dollars on printing. If they can make that grand of a mistake, and then not order new ones to use that are spelled correctly, I would worry about what they would overlook in my hotel room. Really. Call me a spelling snob, but that's just so basic. So, no Wingate recommendation.
Instead, Hyatt Place Inverness. This hotel is about 7 minutes from the reception, about 12 or so from the ceremony. It doesn't have a bar or restaurant, but it does have a "guest cafe" where you can serve yourself 24-7. We got a rate of $89. This is the rate it currently is online, but should that rate go up, you can call and tell them you're with the "Woodring/Stokes Wedding" and get that rate anyway. (That felt really funny to type. Like last night when I called in a to go order at Fleming's and of course said "Stokes" for the name because no one there knows who Mariesa Woodring is. So anyway, when I went in, the little hostess girl who knows us threw open the door and said "Good evening, Mrs. Stokes, how are you?" She knows I'm not Mrs. Stokes. She said I was just practicing with it. So anyway...) You have to actually call 888 HYATT HP to get this rate, you can't do the wedding rate online. The rooms all have double or king beds, like most hotel rooms, but I think each room also has a pull-out sleeper sofa. There is also a divider between the living room part and the bedroom part, so there is a little privacy. You could probably sleep four in a regular room, again, assuming you don't mind sharing a bathroom with three other people.
The third option is the Hilton Perimeter Park. This is where we'll be staying Sunday night. The Hilton is about 5 minutes from the reception. And here's the best part - there's a shuttle to The Summit, where Fleming's is, so you wouldn't have to drive back after the party. It's a lovely place. There's a workout room, pool, hot tub, restaurant and bar. In case I've not mentioned this yet, the other two hotels are in Shelby County, which is dry on Sundays. The Hilton is not. The bar serves until 11 on Sundays, in case that's something you might be interested in. They also offer an airport shuttle. This is hourly, but the concierge told me you still need to call and request service. The rate for that weekend (right now) is about $119. DO NOT pay for the "Executive Level" room. The "Executive Level" lounge is closed on weekends. The only difference other than that from a regular room, and I'm not making this up, is three feet. Seriously. You're paying about $10 more a night per foot for this room.
Should you decide to stay somewhere other than one of these three, please let us know ahead of time and we can go check it out for you. And in case you didn't read the earlier post, I strongly discourage you from staying at the only Bed and Breakfast in the city of Birmingham, unless you like teacups, scary old things and Victorian crap. This place is filled to the brim with dolls with glass eyes, old dusty and musty bassinettes and carousel horses. If you're into that stuff, then stay there, but don't come crying to us when a stuffed rabbit wearing a straw hat sitting in a rocking chair steals your breath in the middle of the night.
Don't forget there's always the option to bunk with someone else and split the cost. Many of you coming in from out of town know each other, and those of you who don't, we can tell you who we think you would get along with well enough to share a room for the weekend. Let us know if you're interested and we'll try to make a love connection - I mean roommate match. Same goes for rental cars. No reason everyone should rent when you can share...
Enough on the hotels. Call us if you have questions.
So, to the registry.
This was not fun for us really. It wasn't the experience you see in chick flicks. We didn't waltz through major department stores scanning individual salad forks and crystal figurines and curtains or whatever other people register for. I don't think either one of us enjoyed it actually. We did however look at it from the perspective that, since we aren't having babies, this is probably the last time we'll register for anything. So we tried to have as much fun with it as we could. Or at least register for things we actually want and will use. You'll find the registry here: http://www.myregistry.com/gift-list/Mariesa-Woodring-Gary-Stokes
Enjoy!
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Happy Anniversary!
Years before I had ever even fantasized about sharing a bowl of ice cream, a home or a last name with him, Gary Stokes was News Director at WAVY TV 10. And I was a producer, and a much different version of myself.
I was angry, bitter, and mean. I yelled at people. I said horrible things. I hurt people's feelings. I smashed things and broke things and threw things. And I was in a lot of pain, a lot of the time.
I was 30 the summer Gary and I met. I had been dealing with "girlie problems" for nearly half my life. By then I had had multiple - like 4 or 5 - abdominal surgeries. I had lost count. I spent more than a year on codeine. When that stopped working, my doctors prescribed oxycontin. I took a lot, and I took it often. I did the best I could to make it through the work day, and spent nights curled up in a ball with a heating pad, hot water bottle, aromatherapy treatments, and various other things to help dull the pain deep inside my belly and my back. About once a month, I would make a trip to the emergency room and spend the evening on a morphine drip - a "pitcher of margaritas" the nurses always called it. It would help me sleep through the night and would get me through until the pain had lessened enough for the oxycontin to work again.
In September of that year, at my wit's end, I found a doctor who agreed to give me a hysterectomy, even though I was only 30. The afternoon I sat in his office and scheduled what I thought would be my final surgery was the same afternoon I believe a much deeper relationship between Gary and I began.
As long as I had been sick, my mother was the first person I'd call when I left a doctor's office. That day I added a second call - to Gary. I spoke to him before I even pulled out of my parking space. I don't remember what I told him, but I drove straight to the station and sat down in his office. Alone and afraid, I poured myself and my sickness out to him. He told me to take care of me and everything else would be alright. When I left that day, I knew I wouldn't be back to work for as long as 9 weeks, and I knew that I would miss him.
I spent the next several days getting prepared for surgery and subsequent time at home - where I would be stuck in my 4th floor apartment for much of it. I got library books and snacks and movies. I picked up groceries. I made sure someone was getting my mail and would check on me. My mother flew in to help. I made a phone tree for people to call when I got out of surgery. I wanted her first call to be Gary. I wanted to make sure he knew how I had made it through.
Several days before I was scheduled to check in to Chesapeake General, I had a "routine" ultrasound. My surgeon found something - two things actually - that he wasn't expecting. A tumor attached to my left ovary, and one inside my uterus. As I left his office that day, truly frightened, I made two phone calls from the parking lot. The first to my mother, the second to Gary. That night - this was before there was blogging - I started sending out mass emails to my friends and family. I think I thought I was helping them, telling them how I was doing, but in reality, I was helping me - dumping my fears and worries and nightmares into cyberspace to purge them from my head and my heart.
In addition to the tumors, my abdomen was full of adhesions - attached to everything - essentially glueing my organs to one another. I was horrified when I woke from surgery and the doctor told me he had "saved" my right ovary. Saved it from what? I had wanted so badly to be done with this 15 year nightmare, and he had "saved" one of my ovaries. I wondered how long it would take for that one to need to come out. As disappointed as I was, I was extremely relieved to hear the tumors he removed were not cancerous.
I didn't get better after I was out the hospital that time. A week or so after I was discharged, I developed an infection and had to be rushed back. I was admitted for another week. Back on the morphine drip, I woke up the middle of some afternoon and saw Gary standing over my bed. I was confused and delighted. I have no idea what we talked about or how long he was there. But there he was.
As often as I could after my surgery I emailed - sometimes in a drug-induced haze. I would say things I would never say to someone's face for fear of embarrassing myself, or them. One morning - I'm sure she meant well - my mother replied to an email and said "don't you think this is too personal to share with Gary? I think you should remove him from this list." I did not, and I do not, think it was too personal to share with Gary. I believe as humans there are things we are supposed to share with each other to help us grow and to help us heal. And Gary got to know me more in that time than he would have if we had simply been working in the same newsroom.
After I went home again, I spent several weeks with nothing to do. I wasn't allowed back at work, but was encouraged to walk. So I walked. I would go down by the mighty Elizabeth River, around the harbor, close to WAVY and back home. One afternoon as I walked laps, I looked across a field, and alone, heading in my direction, was Gary. He was walking to get his lunch. Of all the people I could have seen in downtown Portsmouth that day, I saw him. Alone. And I was ecstatic. He hugged me in that old friend-y kind of hug way. That was the first time I remember noticing the way he smells - like dry cleaning and lotion and a hint of something sweetly indescribable. It's the same clean, calming scent he has now.
I went back to work for a couple of months. In that time the pain came back, and my hormones and my moods were eratic and insane. I was a mess. I felt hopeless and helpless. In March, my "saved" ovary finally had a tumor large enough for my doctor to want to take it out. Only this time it was an emergency. With grave concerns about cancer, he gave me just 36 hours to prepare for this surgery. I got in my car and called my mother. And then I called Gary and headed back to the station to tell him the news again.
This time was different. The afternoon I got home from the hospital I even got on the treadmill. I healed faster, felt better, and had more hope than ever before. The tumor was not cancerous and my ovary was gone - but it doesn't end there.
Then, and now, I have to see the doctor about every 3 or 4 months to tweak my hormone replacements. It's not always a pretty process. I have moodswings and I worry I'll never feel normal. I have symptoms that make me think I'm turning into my grandmothers. I'm not even 40, how can I have that??? When we moved to Birmingham, I started going to one of the best clinics in the country, and my doctor there is one of the top reproductive endocrinologists around. I call him "my chemist". I often feel like a big experiment, but I guess in a sense, I am.
About once a year something will happen and I will panic and convince myself that I am sick again. After sufficiently scaring myself about it, I'll tell Gary and he'll remind me that I worried about this before and everything turned out fine. He'll also tell me that if it does turn out to be something, we'll get through it. Then he'll encourage me to go to the clinic, and when I do, it's always something that's a quick fix. Add this, subtract that, wait another 3 months and see what happens. It's a constant process, but at least I'm no longer in pain or a screaming angry madwoman.
So why am I telling you all of this in our wedding blog? For one, this weekend was the 6th anniversary of my last ovary being removed. We always observe the day by eating eggs - real ones, not beaters. The other thing is this - I think most engaged people probably hope they'll never have to test their vows. They might pray things won't go from better to worse, or from richer to poorer. I am blessed. We are blessed. We've already been through sickness and now have health. And if anything should happen again, to either one of us, we know we'll get through it - together.
I was angry, bitter, and mean. I yelled at people. I said horrible things. I hurt people's feelings. I smashed things and broke things and threw things. And I was in a lot of pain, a lot of the time.
I was 30 the summer Gary and I met. I had been dealing with "girlie problems" for nearly half my life. By then I had had multiple - like 4 or 5 - abdominal surgeries. I had lost count. I spent more than a year on codeine. When that stopped working, my doctors prescribed oxycontin. I took a lot, and I took it often. I did the best I could to make it through the work day, and spent nights curled up in a ball with a heating pad, hot water bottle, aromatherapy treatments, and various other things to help dull the pain deep inside my belly and my back. About once a month, I would make a trip to the emergency room and spend the evening on a morphine drip - a "pitcher of margaritas" the nurses always called it. It would help me sleep through the night and would get me through until the pain had lessened enough for the oxycontin to work again.
In September of that year, at my wit's end, I found a doctor who agreed to give me a hysterectomy, even though I was only 30. The afternoon I sat in his office and scheduled what I thought would be my final surgery was the same afternoon I believe a much deeper relationship between Gary and I began.
As long as I had been sick, my mother was the first person I'd call when I left a doctor's office. That day I added a second call - to Gary. I spoke to him before I even pulled out of my parking space. I don't remember what I told him, but I drove straight to the station and sat down in his office. Alone and afraid, I poured myself and my sickness out to him. He told me to take care of me and everything else would be alright. When I left that day, I knew I wouldn't be back to work for as long as 9 weeks, and I knew that I would miss him.
I spent the next several days getting prepared for surgery and subsequent time at home - where I would be stuck in my 4th floor apartment for much of it. I got library books and snacks and movies. I picked up groceries. I made sure someone was getting my mail and would check on me. My mother flew in to help. I made a phone tree for people to call when I got out of surgery. I wanted her first call to be Gary. I wanted to make sure he knew how I had made it through.
Several days before I was scheduled to check in to Chesapeake General, I had a "routine" ultrasound. My surgeon found something - two things actually - that he wasn't expecting. A tumor attached to my left ovary, and one inside my uterus. As I left his office that day, truly frightened, I made two phone calls from the parking lot. The first to my mother, the second to Gary. That night - this was before there was blogging - I started sending out mass emails to my friends and family. I think I thought I was helping them, telling them how I was doing, but in reality, I was helping me - dumping my fears and worries and nightmares into cyberspace to purge them from my head and my heart.
In addition to the tumors, my abdomen was full of adhesions - attached to everything - essentially glueing my organs to one another. I was horrified when I woke from surgery and the doctor told me he had "saved" my right ovary. Saved it from what? I had wanted so badly to be done with this 15 year nightmare, and he had "saved" one of my ovaries. I wondered how long it would take for that one to need to come out. As disappointed as I was, I was extremely relieved to hear the tumors he removed were not cancerous.
I didn't get better after I was out the hospital that time. A week or so after I was discharged, I developed an infection and had to be rushed back. I was admitted for another week. Back on the morphine drip, I woke up the middle of some afternoon and saw Gary standing over my bed. I was confused and delighted. I have no idea what we talked about or how long he was there. But there he was.
As often as I could after my surgery I emailed - sometimes in a drug-induced haze. I would say things I would never say to someone's face for fear of embarrassing myself, or them. One morning - I'm sure she meant well - my mother replied to an email and said "don't you think this is too personal to share with Gary? I think you should remove him from this list." I did not, and I do not, think it was too personal to share with Gary. I believe as humans there are things we are supposed to share with each other to help us grow and to help us heal. And Gary got to know me more in that time than he would have if we had simply been working in the same newsroom.
After I went home again, I spent several weeks with nothing to do. I wasn't allowed back at work, but was encouraged to walk. So I walked. I would go down by the mighty Elizabeth River, around the harbor, close to WAVY and back home. One afternoon as I walked laps, I looked across a field, and alone, heading in my direction, was Gary. He was walking to get his lunch. Of all the people I could have seen in downtown Portsmouth that day, I saw him. Alone. And I was ecstatic. He hugged me in that old friend-y kind of hug way. That was the first time I remember noticing the way he smells - like dry cleaning and lotion and a hint of something sweetly indescribable. It's the same clean, calming scent he has now.
I went back to work for a couple of months. In that time the pain came back, and my hormones and my moods were eratic and insane. I was a mess. I felt hopeless and helpless. In March, my "saved" ovary finally had a tumor large enough for my doctor to want to take it out. Only this time it was an emergency. With grave concerns about cancer, he gave me just 36 hours to prepare for this surgery. I got in my car and called my mother. And then I called Gary and headed back to the station to tell him the news again.
This time was different. The afternoon I got home from the hospital I even got on the treadmill. I healed faster, felt better, and had more hope than ever before. The tumor was not cancerous and my ovary was gone - but it doesn't end there.
Then, and now, I have to see the doctor about every 3 or 4 months to tweak my hormone replacements. It's not always a pretty process. I have moodswings and I worry I'll never feel normal. I have symptoms that make me think I'm turning into my grandmothers. I'm not even 40, how can I have that??? When we moved to Birmingham, I started going to one of the best clinics in the country, and my doctor there is one of the top reproductive endocrinologists around. I call him "my chemist". I often feel like a big experiment, but I guess in a sense, I am.
About once a year something will happen and I will panic and convince myself that I am sick again. After sufficiently scaring myself about it, I'll tell Gary and he'll remind me that I worried about this before and everything turned out fine. He'll also tell me that if it does turn out to be something, we'll get through it. Then he'll encourage me to go to the clinic, and when I do, it's always something that's a quick fix. Add this, subtract that, wait another 3 months and see what happens. It's a constant process, but at least I'm no longer in pain or a screaming angry madwoman.
So why am I telling you all of this in our wedding blog? For one, this weekend was the 6th anniversary of my last ovary being removed. We always observe the day by eating eggs - real ones, not beaters. The other thing is this - I think most engaged people probably hope they'll never have to test their vows. They might pray things won't go from better to worse, or from richer to poorer. I am blessed. We are blessed. We've already been through sickness and now have health. And if anything should happen again, to either one of us, we know we'll get through it - together.
Monday, March 2, 2009
187 Days (23 hours, 31 minutes and 53 seconds...)
Time is flying. I am currently panicking about how it's all going to get done. I just realized it's been almost a month since I blogged at all - completely because I've been too busy. You all know me well enough to know I've always got something to say and am generally not shy about saying it. Just. Too. (Favorite four-letter word + "ing"). Busy. Am in fact writing this at lunch right now because I wanted to get this out to you all because I know you're trying to plan.
Believe me, we know the economy is affecting everyone and everything. We're trying to plan a wedding at possibly the worst financial time in the last, well, since there was a little dinosaur lady who was trying as hard as she could to plan a creative and beautiful and fun and personal wedding without cutting the guest list or using credit cards...
Since we created the guest list, at least 3 people on it have been laid off. This is not a big wedding, folks. That's a lot. Especially considering several guests are still in school, and others either work from home or are self-employed.
We know this is a hard time, but we really, really want those of you who are out of town to be able to come in and be part of our celebration. Here are a couple of things for you to think about if you're sweating being able to make it:
1 - You can always carpool. According to Googlemaps, it's 11 hours and change from Portsmouth. (For lack of another central location, I did actually google it from WAVY to our house. Don't know why I couldn't come up with anything else.) There are a lot of people in Virginia on the guest list, and many of you already know each other. If you're interested in roadtrippin', email me and I'll send you email addresses of other people near you. Honestly, I think it would be fun. It may seem like a long time in the car, but it's a beautiful drive, and no one drives as slowly as Googlemaps would like us to - it's probably more like 10 hours. If you're splitting the cost with a few people, it might make it tolerable. Maybe you'll make new friends! Also remember it's a holiday weekend - you'll have all day Monday to get back.
2 -- Share a room. I am still working on hotel rooms and rates. I seriously have just been too busy to drive to a bunch and check them out. (I did check out a Bed & Breakfast this weekend in Birmingham - the ONLY B&B in Birmingham - and there is nfw I'm letting any of you stay there. Quick side story: Ira, the "innkeeper", was like a more effeminate Norman Bates wearing a way-too-tight black leather vest. There were full-sized carousel horses in this place, a peacock with it's thing all spread out in the fireplace, and tables were littered with little teacups and saucers and other dainty Victorian crap. In one of the "very affordable" suites, the sitting room was stufffed full with I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP little dolls and doll carriages and bassinets all posed with their plastic eyeballs staring right at you. Another room had this massive wedding dress all fluffed out and shaped and draped. It was horrific. Ira was so proud of it all. I was so creeped out it was all I could do to not run down the original oak steps and straight out the front door shrieking. But had I done that, I would have had to pass by - again - the wicker rocking chairs on the porch with bunnies placed just-so on them. I physically shuddered for about 30 minutes after leaving this place. I hate B&Bs anyway, and prefer not to stay in them, but this was ridiculous. I will not allow any of you to stay there. Period.) So anyway, I'm working on checking out real hotels for you, but while I do, please remember you can bunk with someone. Again, many of you know each other already, and if you don't, I'm sure we can match you up with someone we think you would like. After all, we think you're all pretty cool, so I'm sure you'll like each other, even if it's just well enough to enjoy a weekend together. I'm paying particular attention to hotels that offer suites so there will be more room in them, should you decide to split the cost and share with someone.
3 -- Share a car. If you do go ahead and fly in, think about sharing a rental car with someone. For the third time, many of you already know each other. And if you don't, we trust you each enough to recommend you to a person you could share a car with and know you won't hack them up into little pieces or purposefully run anyone into a telephone pole. Most likely you'll be going to many of the same places anyway, might as well split the cost. Want some names? Email me.
That's what I've got for now, mostly because it's time for me to get back to work. I promise I'm working on the hotels. The one I did already look at (that's attached to a mall and has a steakhouse and bar, etc. in it) ran about $119/night I think. That one's also a little out of the way, but it has a lot to do during down time. My uncle told me the other day he found one that's about 15 minutes from our house and the reception site, and about 20 or so from the ceremony site for about $49/night - and that's for a suite with an extra pull out sofa. I'm going to drive down and look at that one with my own eyes before I recommend it, but I think it's pretty new, so I can't imagine it's all that bad. I may be able to do that Saturday, but will be busy working the second job because, as I said, we're trying to plan a wedding in the worst financial time in history without cutting the guest list or using credit cards...
Believe me, we know the economy is affecting everyone and everything. We're trying to plan a wedding at possibly the worst financial time in the last, well, since there was a little dinosaur lady who was trying as hard as she could to plan a creative and beautiful and fun and personal wedding without cutting the guest list or using credit cards...
Since we created the guest list, at least 3 people on it have been laid off. This is not a big wedding, folks. That's a lot. Especially considering several guests are still in school, and others either work from home or are self-employed.
We know this is a hard time, but we really, really want those of you who are out of town to be able to come in and be part of our celebration. Here are a couple of things for you to think about if you're sweating being able to make it:
1 - You can always carpool. According to Googlemaps, it's 11 hours and change from Portsmouth. (For lack of another central location, I did actually google it from WAVY to our house. Don't know why I couldn't come up with anything else.) There are a lot of people in Virginia on the guest list, and many of you already know each other. If you're interested in roadtrippin', email me and I'll send you email addresses of other people near you. Honestly, I think it would be fun. It may seem like a long time in the car, but it's a beautiful drive, and no one drives as slowly as Googlemaps would like us to - it's probably more like 10 hours. If you're splitting the cost with a few people, it might make it tolerable. Maybe you'll make new friends! Also remember it's a holiday weekend - you'll have all day Monday to get back.
2 -- Share a room. I am still working on hotel rooms and rates. I seriously have just been too busy to drive to a bunch and check them out. (I did check out a Bed & Breakfast this weekend in Birmingham - the ONLY B&B in Birmingham - and there is nfw I'm letting any of you stay there. Quick side story: Ira, the "innkeeper", was like a more effeminate Norman Bates wearing a way-too-tight black leather vest. There were full-sized carousel horses in this place, a peacock with it's thing all spread out in the fireplace, and tables were littered with little teacups and saucers and other dainty Victorian crap. In one of the "very affordable" suites, the sitting room was stufffed full with I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP little dolls and doll carriages and bassinets all posed with their plastic eyeballs staring right at you. Another room had this massive wedding dress all fluffed out and shaped and draped. It was horrific. Ira was so proud of it all. I was so creeped out it was all I could do to not run down the original oak steps and straight out the front door shrieking. But had I done that, I would have had to pass by - again - the wicker rocking chairs on the porch with bunnies placed just-so on them. I physically shuddered for about 30 minutes after leaving this place. I hate B&Bs anyway, and prefer not to stay in them, but this was ridiculous. I will not allow any of you to stay there. Period.) So anyway, I'm working on checking out real hotels for you, but while I do, please remember you can bunk with someone. Again, many of you know each other already, and if you don't, I'm sure we can match you up with someone we think you would like. After all, we think you're all pretty cool, so I'm sure you'll like each other, even if it's just well enough to enjoy a weekend together. I'm paying particular attention to hotels that offer suites so there will be more room in them, should you decide to split the cost and share with someone.
3 -- Share a car. If you do go ahead and fly in, think about sharing a rental car with someone. For the third time, many of you already know each other. And if you don't, we trust you each enough to recommend you to a person you could share a car with and know you won't hack them up into little pieces or purposefully run anyone into a telephone pole. Most likely you'll be going to many of the same places anyway, might as well split the cost. Want some names? Email me.
That's what I've got for now, mostly because it's time for me to get back to work. I promise I'm working on the hotels. The one I did already look at (that's attached to a mall and has a steakhouse and bar, etc. in it) ran about $119/night I think. That one's also a little out of the way, but it has a lot to do during down time. My uncle told me the other day he found one that's about 15 minutes from our house and the reception site, and about 20 or so from the ceremony site for about $49/night - and that's for a suite with an extra pull out sofa. I'm going to drive down and look at that one with my own eyes before I recommend it, but I think it's pretty new, so I can't imagine it's all that bad. I may be able to do that Saturday, but will be busy working the second job because, as I said, we're trying to plan a wedding in the worst financial time in history without cutting the guest list or using credit cards...
Saturday, February 7, 2009
A Letter From the Past
We have had a very, very busy week when it comes to the wedding. Well, overall, but wedding stuff has been full speed ahead for the last week or 10 days.
Last weekend I was in Atlanta at a flower show, where I got a lot done, and found a lot of inspiration. I took projects with me for downtime, and actually worked on making favors, and started work on the invitations. Just wait - once you see them you'll understand why this was no easy task. As I was hanging out at this flower show for 4+ days, I saw a lot of flowers (duh), got a lot of advice from garden experts, and flipped through about a bazillion books. One particular book had pictures of arrangements, bouquets, and boutteniers that I liked so much, I actually took photos of the pages. Yes, at this point, I am that cheap that I snuck around shooting the pages rather than purchase the book... I also got a sense of what flowers I *don't* want for the wedding - either because they didn't hold up well out of water, would have to be flown in from somewhere far, far away (not very environmentally responsible - I wouldn't be able to sleep at night), or once they were made into an arrangement they looked just plain gawdy. It really was quite helpful and somewhat eased a bit of my anxiety.
Gary and I met at the jeweler one afternoon this week and saw our rings. We tried them on, but for insurance reasons (please read "Terror and Insurance" if you have not already), they are still in the jeweler's safe, not in our safety deposit box. But we did try them on and see how they look on us. I am trying not to think too much about it. It made me a little excited.
We also made an appointment for our wine tasting and scheduled our cake tasting. That we will be doing while Gary's Mom is here - something fun she can be involved in, and she can help make some crucial decisions. And besides, as the pastry shop is called where we're going, who doesn't love cake? (At least I think that's the name. It's close.)
The other week I found a song that I felt was perfect, just perfect, for the processional. It's sung by one of our favorite singers, someone who we've seen in concert several times. It's in Italian and has a lot of violin, two things I absolutely adore, and based on the English translation, it's about two people who couldn't be together but now they can finally celebrate their love -- and at the time I had Obama on the brain, as well as a little Abraham Lincoln, and the song really touched me. Just 40 years ago we couldn't have married each other. I am so grateful that people were and are willing to stand up for what's right in this great nation, regardless of what's law, regardless of what's "acceptable", and make change happen. God bless those who aren't afraid to fight to make life better for all other people.
So anyway, I was all excited about this song. Had just about every step down the "aisle" planned out. And then Gary burst my bubble. And crushed my dream. The song is actually "A Time for Us" - the 1968 theme to Romeo & Juliet. I got a "D" in Shakespeare, but I know that's not a good thing. Dammit.
Tomorrow we're going to look at ties and cufflinks. Monday morning we're having breakfast with an officiant-candidate. Yesterday I pulled a box out of the garage of old cards and letters and other treasures I've kept for the last many years. I am hoping there is something in that box that will help me write my vows.
But before I found that inspiration, under deflated balloons from birthdays gone by, placemats from theme-night dinners, and lyrics to my favorite love songs, I discovered a letter from the past. It's actually an email conversation between me and Jacey Eckhart, a sometimes-marriage and family-columnist for the Virginian-Pilot. It was written the week of Valentine's Day, years ago, but I'm not sure how many, there's no date on it. Here is an excerpt of what I said to her in response to a column about what women want for said mall-holiday:
"...why do [these articles] seem to be just about what men get women? I am racking my brain so much about what to get him, that what he's getting me isn't even crossing my mind. This is a mall-iday in celebration of love, and our relationship is *ours*, not just mine... Not once in columns about Valentine's Day this year have I seen anything to speak of regarding what *he*wants."
"...I am lucky, blessed, and thankful that I have a boyfriend that knows me well and takes the time to *think* about what I like and would want."
"When is someone going to point out that it's not about chocolate (= guilt) or 'romantic' silky outfits (= one night of lust)? Real romance is taking the time to think about what's important to your sweetie, what makes them feel good, what they enjoy, what makes them feel pampered... All we really want is for men to think about what would make us feel special. Take the time, use the energy, get creative, and we'll do the same for them."
Her response to me:
"I predict good things for this relationship. Not only do you know each other well enough to navigate the tricky waters of V-day, but you are already talking about it. I can't tell you how many years of conversations we had to have about V-day before we got it exactly right. You are way ahead of the curve."
Wow. That made me feel really good - then and now. Made me feel good that she said those things, but moreso that Gary's even so much more thoughtful and romantic and creative as the years go by. I am indeed the luckiest girl in the world.
...And now, off to the symphony with the man who undoubtedly will be the hottest one there. And then we'll come home, I'll settle into bed, and then stay awake all night worrying about what I'm going to get him for Valentine's Day...
Last weekend I was in Atlanta at a flower show, where I got a lot done, and found a lot of inspiration. I took projects with me for downtime, and actually worked on making favors, and started work on the invitations. Just wait - once you see them you'll understand why this was no easy task. As I was hanging out at this flower show for 4+ days, I saw a lot of flowers (duh), got a lot of advice from garden experts, and flipped through about a bazillion books. One particular book had pictures of arrangements, bouquets, and boutteniers that I liked so much, I actually took photos of the pages. Yes, at this point, I am that cheap that I snuck around shooting the pages rather than purchase the book... I also got a sense of what flowers I *don't* want for the wedding - either because they didn't hold up well out of water, would have to be flown in from somewhere far, far away (not very environmentally responsible - I wouldn't be able to sleep at night), or once they were made into an arrangement they looked just plain gawdy. It really was quite helpful and somewhat eased a bit of my anxiety.
Gary and I met at the jeweler one afternoon this week and saw our rings. We tried them on, but for insurance reasons (please read "Terror and Insurance" if you have not already), they are still in the jeweler's safe, not in our safety deposit box. But we did try them on and see how they look on us. I am trying not to think too much about it. It made me a little excited.
We also made an appointment for our wine tasting and scheduled our cake tasting. That we will be doing while Gary's Mom is here - something fun she can be involved in, and she can help make some crucial decisions. And besides, as the pastry shop is called where we're going, who doesn't love cake? (At least I think that's the name. It's close.)
The other week I found a song that I felt was perfect, just perfect, for the processional. It's sung by one of our favorite singers, someone who we've seen in concert several times. It's in Italian and has a lot of violin, two things I absolutely adore, and based on the English translation, it's about two people who couldn't be together but now they can finally celebrate their love -- and at the time I had Obama on the brain, as well as a little Abraham Lincoln, and the song really touched me. Just 40 years ago we couldn't have married each other. I am so grateful that people were and are willing to stand up for what's right in this great nation, regardless of what's law, regardless of what's "acceptable", and make change happen. God bless those who aren't afraid to fight to make life better for all other people.
So anyway, I was all excited about this song. Had just about every step down the "aisle" planned out. And then Gary burst my bubble. And crushed my dream. The song is actually "A Time for Us" - the 1968 theme to Romeo & Juliet. I got a "D" in Shakespeare, but I know that's not a good thing. Dammit.
Tomorrow we're going to look at ties and cufflinks. Monday morning we're having breakfast with an officiant-candidate. Yesterday I pulled a box out of the garage of old cards and letters and other treasures I've kept for the last many years. I am hoping there is something in that box that will help me write my vows.
But before I found that inspiration, under deflated balloons from birthdays gone by, placemats from theme-night dinners, and lyrics to my favorite love songs, I discovered a letter from the past. It's actually an email conversation between me and Jacey Eckhart, a sometimes-marriage and family-columnist for the Virginian-Pilot. It was written the week of Valentine's Day, years ago, but I'm not sure how many, there's no date on it. Here is an excerpt of what I said to her in response to a column about what women want for said mall-holiday:
"...why do [these articles] seem to be just about what men get women? I am racking my brain so much about what to get him, that what he's getting me isn't even crossing my mind. This is a mall-iday in celebration of love, and our relationship is *ours*, not just mine... Not once in columns about Valentine's Day this year have I seen anything to speak of regarding what *he*wants."
"...I am lucky, blessed, and thankful that I have a boyfriend that knows me well and takes the time to *think* about what I like and would want."
"When is someone going to point out that it's not about chocolate (= guilt) or 'romantic' silky outfits (= one night of lust)? Real romance is taking the time to think about what's important to your sweetie, what makes them feel good, what they enjoy, what makes them feel pampered... All we really want is for men to think about what would make us feel special. Take the time, use the energy, get creative, and we'll do the same for them."
Her response to me:
"I predict good things for this relationship. Not only do you know each other well enough to navigate the tricky waters of V-day, but you are already talking about it. I can't tell you how many years of conversations we had to have about V-day before we got it exactly right. You are way ahead of the curve."
Wow. That made me feel really good - then and now. Made me feel good that she said those things, but moreso that Gary's even so much more thoughtful and romantic and creative as the years go by. I am indeed the luckiest girl in the world.
...And now, off to the symphony with the man who undoubtedly will be the hottest one there. And then we'll come home, I'll settle into bed, and then stay awake all night worrying about what I'm going to get him for Valentine's Day...
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Changes in Attitude, Changes in Latitude
It's been a pretty cold winter (relatively speaking, of course) in Alabama. Our fireplace has gotten a lot more use than in previous years. Buying firewood here is different than anywhere else I've ever been. I've never been able to just find it at a store of some sort. Instead guys sit with their pick-ups on the side of the main roads, beds loaded down with chopped wood, and wait for people to stop and buy. It feels a little dirty to me, especially because I don't buy a lot at a time. 'How much can I get for 20 bucks?' makes me feel like I'm buying something I'm possibly going to burn, but probably not in the fireplace.
One afternoon I was out cruising for the firewood trucks and found one on a corner near the house. There wasn't a guy in this truck, but a number scrawled on a piece of limp cardboard taped to the side. I called the number and an old man answered. He told me how to get to his "wood yard" that was only about a mile away. I drove down this backroad I've never been on before, past overgrown lots and mobile home communities and a white and pink cinderblock dance studio that stood out like -- well, like a white and pink dance studio in the middle of a sooty, brushy, seemingly dying stretch of winding road. I came up on the wood yard and parked basically in the middle of the curvy street. There were only muddy ditches on either side of the road, places only pick-ups and ATVs could drive. I just hoped this would be quick, or that no one actually ever drove down this road, and if they did, they'd be going slowly.
So out of nowhere walks this old man. Or at least I thought he was an old man. He didn't seem to have put in his teeth that morning. He was wearing only one dirty glove, and the other hand was missing a thumb. He spit -- I hope it was chewing tobacco. His clothes were layers upon layers of things that had been cut or patched or were fraying. His outfit reminded me of the gas station attendants you don't see much anymore - when they'd come out and fill your tank and check under your hood, even if it was 12 below and sleeting. I'm still not sure if this man is in his 80's, or one of those souls who looks old when he's still young - a lifetime of back-breaking work taking its toll long before its time.
We chatted a bit as he was trudging through the mud, searching for the driest wood, and loading it into my car. One of the things he said was that he had to actually pay to have the wood brought in so he could chop it and sell it. $30 for the load to chop and re-sell. He used to get the wood at his jobsite, they let him take it and chop it. But now, "there ain't no work no mo'. There just ain't no work no mo'." I wrote him a check for $12 for my wood and started for home, his words still stinging in my ears.
I got home and started to build a fire. Meanwhile, I was telling Gary this story. The global financial crisis has been on our minds as much as anyone's, and trying to plan a wedding right now is taking a lot of creative corner cutting. I suspect it will also mean we may be compromising even more of what we want the closer we get, should this not turn around soon.
I just felt horrible. Horrible that here was this old man, with 9 fingers, chopping wood to feed his family, and here we were planning a week-long honeymoon somewhere that's going to cost us the equivalent of about 3 months of my salary. There is something seriously wrong with that. Especially when it's a very real possibility that one or both of us could lose our jobs in the next 6 months. So we fired up the laptop and got to work...
What we found, and later changed, is that we can go to Ocho Rios instead of St. Lucia for half the cost. HALF THE COST. Same resort chain, so we didn't lose the deposit. The Ocho Rios resort has a country club nearby, so we're getting 27 more holes of golf than in St. Lucia. It's the same body of water. I'm sure the sand and sun are similar. We'll still be together. And on our honeymoon. And in Ocho Rios, again for half the cost, we have the Honeymoon Oceanview Villa 1 Bedroom Suite with a private pool. No kidding. Oh, and the flights were cheaper, and shorter. Gary ended up getting a credit from the airlines.
I definitely feel better having made this change. Yes, it's nice to have a fabulous honeymoon to always remember, but we'll always remember it anyway. It's about us, not about spending money we may need for other things down the road. And this way, we'll get the golf and the sun and the amazing trip together, but not feel so frivolous and irresponsible about it.
By the way, the luxury is included, but we still have to pay for it. Want to buy us a romantic dinner for two on the beach or a couple's massage? Here's where you can help.
One afternoon I was out cruising for the firewood trucks and found one on a corner near the house. There wasn't a guy in this truck, but a number scrawled on a piece of limp cardboard taped to the side. I called the number and an old man answered. He told me how to get to his "wood yard" that was only about a mile away. I drove down this backroad I've never been on before, past overgrown lots and mobile home communities and a white and pink cinderblock dance studio that stood out like -- well, like a white and pink dance studio in the middle of a sooty, brushy, seemingly dying stretch of winding road. I came up on the wood yard and parked basically in the middle of the curvy street. There were only muddy ditches on either side of the road, places only pick-ups and ATVs could drive. I just hoped this would be quick, or that no one actually ever drove down this road, and if they did, they'd be going slowly.
So out of nowhere walks this old man. Or at least I thought he was an old man. He didn't seem to have put in his teeth that morning. He was wearing only one dirty glove, and the other hand was missing a thumb. He spit -- I hope it was chewing tobacco. His clothes were layers upon layers of things that had been cut or patched or were fraying. His outfit reminded me of the gas station attendants you don't see much anymore - when they'd come out and fill your tank and check under your hood, even if it was 12 below and sleeting. I'm still not sure if this man is in his 80's, or one of those souls who looks old when he's still young - a lifetime of back-breaking work taking its toll long before its time.
We chatted a bit as he was trudging through the mud, searching for the driest wood, and loading it into my car. One of the things he said was that he had to actually pay to have the wood brought in so he could chop it and sell it. $30 for the load to chop and re-sell. He used to get the wood at his jobsite, they let him take it and chop it. But now, "there ain't no work no mo'. There just ain't no work no mo'." I wrote him a check for $12 for my wood and started for home, his words still stinging in my ears.
I got home and started to build a fire. Meanwhile, I was telling Gary this story. The global financial crisis has been on our minds as much as anyone's, and trying to plan a wedding right now is taking a lot of creative corner cutting. I suspect it will also mean we may be compromising even more of what we want the closer we get, should this not turn around soon.
I just felt horrible. Horrible that here was this old man, with 9 fingers, chopping wood to feed his family, and here we were planning a week-long honeymoon somewhere that's going to cost us the equivalent of about 3 months of my salary. There is something seriously wrong with that. Especially when it's a very real possibility that one or both of us could lose our jobs in the next 6 months. So we fired up the laptop and got to work...
What we found, and later changed, is that we can go to Ocho Rios instead of St. Lucia for half the cost. HALF THE COST. Same resort chain, so we didn't lose the deposit. The Ocho Rios resort has a country club nearby, so we're getting 27 more holes of golf than in St. Lucia. It's the same body of water. I'm sure the sand and sun are similar. We'll still be together. And on our honeymoon. And in Ocho Rios, again for half the cost, we have the Honeymoon Oceanview Villa 1 Bedroom Suite with a private pool. No kidding. Oh, and the flights were cheaper, and shorter. Gary ended up getting a credit from the airlines.
I definitely feel better having made this change. Yes, it's nice to have a fabulous honeymoon to always remember, but we'll always remember it anyway. It's about us, not about spending money we may need for other things down the road. And this way, we'll get the golf and the sun and the amazing trip together, but not feel so frivolous and irresponsible about it.
By the way, the luxury is included, but we still have to pay for it. Want to buy us a romantic dinner for two on the beach or a couple's massage? Here's where you can help.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Up-do, Make Up, and Porn
Bartlet and I are alone for the weekend. Gary has gone to DC to visit his sons. Oh yeah, and to be there and witness the swearing in of the 44th President of the United States with millions of his closest friends. While I am truly disappointed to not be there also, it just didn't work out for me to join him. (And I trust he'll get me a sophisticated yet understated commemorative T-shirt when he purchases one for our friend Justice.) So while Gary and Craig and Mark have an historic ("an", not "a") weekend full of male-bonding, Bartlet and I are doing bride-to-be stuff. And Bartlet's thrilled about it. He'd tell you himself, but he's sleeping. And he can't type because he doesn't have opposable thumbs.
So it's 6:00 and I'm in my pajamas already and there's a (really pathetic) fire in the fireplace. The B2B day started with the afternoon off from work. At 12:30 I went to Salon Xanadoo and met with Lindsey. I'm told she's the best "special occasion hair designer" around. At least that's what Wayne-John at the front desk told me. I really went there because I wanted Russell Kern to do my hair - Gary and I met Russell and his partner Cliff at an AIDS Alabama benefit auction and casino night gala thing. We had a blast with them and it turns out Russell is great with curly hair. But of course by the time I got around to calling him, he had stopped doing hair and no longer works there. So I met with Lindsey.
Before I even sat down I fanned out the 75 pictures I'd brought with me - all ripped out from bridal magazines. (See "Bridal Overdose" for more on my obsession with bridal magazines.) When I showed her the one I really liked the most, I told her that - and added, "but I want it to look like MY hair." She said, "sit down. I can do that." Really? No one in my entire life has ever been able to make my hair look anything like anyone else's style. In fact, rarely do I leave the chair not in tears. Which is why I never get my hair cut. The last time was 2 years ago. Seriously.
I sat down and she started playing with my hair, and - whoo hoo! - she wasn't like all the other hair people at all - she didn't do everything she could to mess up the curl pattern and make it fuzzy. I was amazed. After 5 minutes of trying to get bobby pins to stay in, she decided to try a rubber band instead. Never in almost 37 years have I EVER been able to put a rubber band in my hair. They snap before I can get them around this wild mane. It's been 5 hours and it's still in, by the way. So she banded and bobby pinned and told me where she'd flatten and where she'd make a little place for my veil. That would be the veil I wasn't positive I'd be wearing until Lindsey told me she'd make a little place for it to sit. And she told me where she'd need to tease. Tease. My hair.
Later I was thinking about that, and I'm quite certain the last time I teased my hair I was getting ready for a Roosevelt High School dance with Nikki Hardy and Becky Finley in a cigarette smoke and Aqua Net-filled bathroom and we were wearing jelly bracelets up to our elbows and some sort of boots with buckles with a skirt and something probably fishnet or at least with the knees ripped out. And either Prince or Madonna was on the radio. Or did we still have vinyl then? Most likely a cassette tape. So anyway...
Before I left I made an appointment for August to do a real dress rehearsal of the half I-do-Up-do. And she's only charging me half the real cost because apparently thick, curly, dirty hair is the absolute best for the I-do-Up-do. BUT -- you know how I keep preaching about how much cheaper it is to get married on a Sunday? Not this time. Because she'll have to come to me to do my hair that day, it's gonna cost me FOUR TIMES as much. That's the first thing I've come across in all this planning where it's more expensive.
With my rubber band and bobby pins still firmly planted in my hair, I went to Ulta and played with make up. I'm a hardcore Bare Escentuals fan, but I actually went Urban Decay today, mostly because there was a representative there to play with make up with me, but also because I was feeling a little freakish.
(THANK YOU, Jackie for my gift card!!! It was spent wisely - or at least on something I really needed/wanted!)
So now I'm home and we're on to the porn part of this blog. Just to clear things up off the bat (for my future mother-in-law) we're talking *wedding porn*. It's a big part of my new favorite wedsite offbeatbride.com. It's a gallery of dozens of offbeat brides' wedding photos, complete with commentary for ideas to steal. I believe it's more satisfying and addictive than naked dirty pictures anyday.
Well, most days. ;)
Tonight's plan is to get this fire going again, put on some sexy music, and settle back on the couch and surf for porn...
So it's 6:00 and I'm in my pajamas already and there's a (really pathetic) fire in the fireplace. The B2B day started with the afternoon off from work. At 12:30 I went to Salon Xanadoo and met with Lindsey. I'm told she's the best "special occasion hair designer" around. At least that's what Wayne-John at the front desk told me. I really went there because I wanted Russell Kern to do my hair - Gary and I met Russell and his partner Cliff at an AIDS Alabama benefit auction and casino night gala thing. We had a blast with them and it turns out Russell is great with curly hair. But of course by the time I got around to calling him, he had stopped doing hair and no longer works there. So I met with Lindsey.
Before I even sat down I fanned out the 75 pictures I'd brought with me - all ripped out from bridal magazines. (See "Bridal Overdose" for more on my obsession with bridal magazines.) When I showed her the one I really liked the most, I told her that - and added, "but I want it to look like MY hair." She said, "sit down. I can do that." Really? No one in my entire life has ever been able to make my hair look anything like anyone else's style. In fact, rarely do I leave the chair not in tears. Which is why I never get my hair cut. The last time was 2 years ago. Seriously.
I sat down and she started playing with my hair, and - whoo hoo! - she wasn't like all the other hair people at all - she didn't do everything she could to mess up the curl pattern and make it fuzzy. I was amazed. After 5 minutes of trying to get bobby pins to stay in, she decided to try a rubber band instead. Never in almost 37 years have I EVER been able to put a rubber band in my hair. They snap before I can get them around this wild mane. It's been 5 hours and it's still in, by the way. So she banded and bobby pinned and told me where she'd flatten and where she'd make a little place for my veil. That would be the veil I wasn't positive I'd be wearing until Lindsey told me she'd make a little place for it to sit. And she told me where she'd need to tease. Tease. My hair.
Later I was thinking about that, and I'm quite certain the last time I teased my hair I was getting ready for a Roosevelt High School dance with Nikki Hardy and Becky Finley in a cigarette smoke and Aqua Net-filled bathroom and we were wearing jelly bracelets up to our elbows and some sort of boots with buckles with a skirt and something probably fishnet or at least with the knees ripped out. And either Prince or Madonna was on the radio. Or did we still have vinyl then? Most likely a cassette tape. So anyway...
Before I left I made an appointment for August to do a real dress rehearsal of the half I-do-Up-do. And she's only charging me half the real cost because apparently thick, curly, dirty hair is the absolute best for the I-do-Up-do. BUT -- you know how I keep preaching about how much cheaper it is to get married on a Sunday? Not this time. Because she'll have to come to me to do my hair that day, it's gonna cost me FOUR TIMES as much. That's the first thing I've come across in all this planning where it's more expensive.
With my rubber band and bobby pins still firmly planted in my hair, I went to Ulta and played with make up. I'm a hardcore Bare Escentuals fan, but I actually went Urban Decay today, mostly because there was a representative there to play with make up with me, but also because I was feeling a little freakish.
(THANK YOU, Jackie for my gift card!!! It was spent wisely - or at least on something I really needed/wanted!)
So now I'm home and we're on to the porn part of this blog. Just to clear things up off the bat (for my future mother-in-law) we're talking *wedding porn*. It's a big part of my new favorite wedsite offbeatbride.com. It's a gallery of dozens of offbeat brides' wedding photos, complete with commentary for ideas to steal. I believe it's more satisfying and addictive than naked dirty pictures anyday.
Well, most days. ;)
Tonight's plan is to get this fire going again, put on some sexy music, and settle back on the couch and surf for porn...
Monday, January 5, 2009
Terror and Insurance
As many of you know, I sometimes hang out at Bath & Body Works. They pay me to be there, but it's really just hanging out. I get to smell pretty things and use lotions I can't afford and waste away the afternoon thinking and talking about nothing important with other women-girls who need the same kind of weekend activities. I guess we get paid to be friends, but not in the illegal kind of way.
So anyway...
The Saturday after Christmas I'm working my post (not "pole" lol) -- Register #3. I am there all shift-long. It's the first day of the semi-annual sale, so there are a LOT of people buying stuff. Returning presents they don't like, spending gift cards, stocking up. At some point, as I'm STILL ringing up people's goods, as I'm scanning something I hear the slightest, almost imperceptible 'tink'. I've never heard the sound, but immediately I know what it is. I look down, horrified, and I see it. Or rather, don't see it. My diamond is gone.
My diamond is gone.
Left is a gaping hole of palladium claws. The prongs taunt me like octopus tentacles. There is nothing there but misshapen metal. I am frozen with terror. It stings as if someone has ripped a tooth from my gums, leaving just an ugly unexpected empty space.
I start lifting things like a pencil cup and rubber bands. As if this diamond is hiding under a paper clip. I have no sense of my surroundings.
This diamond has made it through a lot. My Grandfather bought it in the 1950's and wore it in his Masonic ring. When he died my Gram had it made into a solitaire she wore until she remarried. My mother wore it at her own wedding more than 20 years ago. Gary and I had it reset after we got engaged. It was supposed to last another lifetime. And now I've lost it.
I looked up at the vast line of women in front of my register. I turn back to the 5 other sales associates behind me at the cash wrap. The woman I had been ringing at the time broke the deafening silence in my head. Sounding just like Charlie Brown's teacher, she said suddenly, "Stop! Stop what you're doing for me and we'll look for it!" So we did. Well, they did. Every woman in that line knew my diamond was missing and every one of them looked for it. I, however, could not. I had a moment like only 2 others that I remember in my lifetime - where I willingly gave up control - completely succumbed to whatever was happening around me. I had nowhere else to go. I couldn't put one foot in front of the other. I couldn't fathom what I would tell Gary. We'd only been engaged a few months! Ugh, and what would I tell my mother? Almost 60 years of family history and I'd lost it. And just then, as I put one hand on my stomach to stop the spasms, and the other over my mouth to block the screams and the vomit, from deep, deep inside, a voice screamed in my head... IT'S ... NOT... INSURED!!!
Why? Because I'm an idiot, basically. I had called my insurance guy, but he needed an appraisal, and that seemed like just too much work. I just hadn't gotten around to it yet... and now, this.
It might have literally been a total of 30 seconds. It may have been 3 or 4 minutes. I really don't know. But another sales associate - one I've never met before and haven't seen since - popped up from behind me and shouted gleefully, "here it is!" She handed me the diamond. I stared at it. I started to put it in my pocket, and then considered swallowing it so at least I'd know where it was and that I could get it back. Someone handed me a gift card envelope. I put it in there, taped it shut, folded it up into a tiny piece and put it in my pocket. Then I checked approximately 52 times per minute to make sure it was still there.
After I got off work I drove immediately to the jeweler. They appraised it while the stone was out. Then they fixed it, for free, "good as new". The owner told me in the 20 years he owned the store, that had never happened. Uh huh. On Monday, first thing, I emailed the appraisal to my insurance guy and got it on our homeowner's policy for something like $7 per month.
But even now, after a huge sigh of relief, about 52 times per minute I still check to make sure the stone is there.
So anyway...
The Saturday after Christmas I'm working my post (not "pole" lol) -- Register #3. I am there all shift-long. It's the first day of the semi-annual sale, so there are a LOT of people buying stuff. Returning presents they don't like, spending gift cards, stocking up. At some point, as I'm STILL ringing up people's goods, as I'm scanning something I hear the slightest, almost imperceptible 'tink'. I've never heard the sound, but immediately I know what it is. I look down, horrified, and I see it. Or rather, don't see it. My diamond is gone.
My diamond is gone.
Left is a gaping hole of palladium claws. The prongs taunt me like octopus tentacles. There is nothing there but misshapen metal. I am frozen with terror. It stings as if someone has ripped a tooth from my gums, leaving just an ugly unexpected empty space.
I start lifting things like a pencil cup and rubber bands. As if this diamond is hiding under a paper clip. I have no sense of my surroundings.
This diamond has made it through a lot. My Grandfather bought it in the 1950's and wore it in his Masonic ring. When he died my Gram had it made into a solitaire she wore until she remarried. My mother wore it at her own wedding more than 20 years ago. Gary and I had it reset after we got engaged. It was supposed to last another lifetime. And now I've lost it.
I looked up at the vast line of women in front of my register. I turn back to the 5 other sales associates behind me at the cash wrap. The woman I had been ringing at the time broke the deafening silence in my head. Sounding just like Charlie Brown's teacher, she said suddenly, "Stop! Stop what you're doing for me and we'll look for it!" So we did. Well, they did. Every woman in that line knew my diamond was missing and every one of them looked for it. I, however, could not. I had a moment like only 2 others that I remember in my lifetime - where I willingly gave up control - completely succumbed to whatever was happening around me. I had nowhere else to go. I couldn't put one foot in front of the other. I couldn't fathom what I would tell Gary. We'd only been engaged a few months! Ugh, and what would I tell my mother? Almost 60 years of family history and I'd lost it. And just then, as I put one hand on my stomach to stop the spasms, and the other over my mouth to block the screams and the vomit, from deep, deep inside, a voice screamed in my head... IT'S ... NOT... INSURED!!!
Why? Because I'm an idiot, basically. I had called my insurance guy, but he needed an appraisal, and that seemed like just too much work. I just hadn't gotten around to it yet... and now, this.
It might have literally been a total of 30 seconds. It may have been 3 or 4 minutes. I really don't know. But another sales associate - one I've never met before and haven't seen since - popped up from behind me and shouted gleefully, "here it is!" She handed me the diamond. I stared at it. I started to put it in my pocket, and then considered swallowing it so at least I'd know where it was and that I could get it back. Someone handed me a gift card envelope. I put it in there, taped it shut, folded it up into a tiny piece and put it in my pocket. Then I checked approximately 52 times per minute to make sure it was still there.
After I got off work I drove immediately to the jeweler. They appraised it while the stone was out. Then they fixed it, for free, "good as new". The owner told me in the 20 years he owned the store, that had never happened. Uh huh. On Monday, first thing, I emailed the appraisal to my insurance guy and got it on our homeowner's policy for something like $7 per month.
But even now, after a huge sigh of relief, about 52 times per minute I still check to make sure the stone is there.
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