Friday, June 30, 2006
Looking good...
Let me tell you that I actually feel pretty good right now. Many problems seem to be solved now or are in the process of being solved, and things are somehow coming together nicely.
For starters, we have finally resolved our family name issue, and I can finally start getting used to the thought of my new name without having to stress over not knowing what is going to happen. Basically, following local law, I have to take on both of The Fiancé's last names, which, in accordance to Mexican tradition, will make me his "sister". There were some emotional problems with this, but now that we have the OK of his mother (whose name I will be "inheriting" against all tradition), he has gotten used to the thought as well. We have also decided on music for the ceremony for the most part, we have organized the Cuban trio that I wanted to badly for the reception, and the DJ has offered me a deal that can be summed up like this: a new website layout for his DJ services.
Many other details are finally coming together as well, but there is no point getting into them all. Let's just say that the amount of stress in my head has decreased significantly. The Fiancé will be working full-time all the way through until the wedding, so we can afford things easily we were previously worrying about. I have signed us up for dance classes, and next week we will attend to the goldsmith workshop, where we will make our own wedding bands for each other. Almost 60 people have RSVP'd already, and will be attending.
I bought a new bikini and I have figured out the benefits of the swimming pool on the roof of the house where my grandparents live: it's free. Now, in this horrible summer heat, I stop by my grandparents after work and go up there to not only get some exercise, but a nice tan as well. Combined with my self-tanning lotion I apply every day now, I should look healthy enough on the day of the wedding. I haven't managed to ride my bike to work as I thought I would, but I am riding it nonetheless, and I feel much healthier and have less cravings for sweets and junk food. The change is slowly becoming physically apparent as well.
And on top of that I have made calculations, and realized that I will be able to get a substantial loan towards a brand-new apartment in the 'burbs, in a quite nice (and Turk-free) area, which I have signed up for a couple of weeks ago. I will be able to pay back a loan along with all the other debts I am having, and it won't be a problem. All I need to do is talk with my bank, and actually get the apartment we are rooting for: on the roof of the building, with a nice terrasse facing south. We are also working on transferring our SUV from LA to here, all in due time. For once, the future looks promising and, above all, DOABLE.
And yesterday I learned that, not knowing that I signed up for an apartment in this new complex myself, my best friend has signed up for one in the same house, independently. Talk about similar thinking! It's back to the roots (it's in the district we both grew up in), and it's in a really nice area. Me and my best friend being neighbors for the decades to come? Sign me up, Scotty.
Things are looking good, finally, and I am one excited bundle of human, not knowing what I should be most excited about, with all these wonderful things pending in the future. :)
For starters, we have finally resolved our family name issue, and I can finally start getting used to the thought of my new name without having to stress over not knowing what is going to happen. Basically, following local law, I have to take on both of The Fiancé's last names, which, in accordance to Mexican tradition, will make me his "sister". There were some emotional problems with this, but now that we have the OK of his mother (whose name I will be "inheriting" against all tradition), he has gotten used to the thought as well. We have also decided on music for the ceremony for the most part, we have organized the Cuban trio that I wanted to badly for the reception, and the DJ has offered me a deal that can be summed up like this: a new website layout for his DJ services.
Many other details are finally coming together as well, but there is no point getting into them all. Let's just say that the amount of stress in my head has decreased significantly. The Fiancé will be working full-time all the way through until the wedding, so we can afford things easily we were previously worrying about. I have signed us up for dance classes, and next week we will attend to the goldsmith workshop, where we will make our own wedding bands for each other. Almost 60 people have RSVP'd already, and will be attending.
I bought a new bikini and I have figured out the benefits of the swimming pool on the roof of the house where my grandparents live: it's free. Now, in this horrible summer heat, I stop by my grandparents after work and go up there to not only get some exercise, but a nice tan as well. Combined with my self-tanning lotion I apply every day now, I should look healthy enough on the day of the wedding. I haven't managed to ride my bike to work as I thought I would, but I am riding it nonetheless, and I feel much healthier and have less cravings for sweets and junk food. The change is slowly becoming physically apparent as well.
And on top of that I have made calculations, and realized that I will be able to get a substantial loan towards a brand-new apartment in the 'burbs, in a quite nice (and Turk-free) area, which I have signed up for a couple of weeks ago. I will be able to pay back a loan along with all the other debts I am having, and it won't be a problem. All I need to do is talk with my bank, and actually get the apartment we are rooting for: on the roof of the building, with a nice terrasse facing south. We are also working on transferring our SUV from LA to here, all in due time. For once, the future looks promising and, above all, DOABLE.
And yesterday I learned that, not knowing that I signed up for an apartment in this new complex myself, my best friend has signed up for one in the same house, independently. Talk about similar thinking! It's back to the roots (it's in the district we both grew up in), and it's in a really nice area. Me and my best friend being neighbors for the decades to come? Sign me up, Scotty.
Things are looking good, finally, and I am one excited bundle of human, not knowing what I should be most excited about, with all these wonderful things pending in the future. :)
Thursday, June 29, 2006
14 Years
14 years ago yesterday my grandfather passed away. As a diabetic, he did not watch his diet too much, and died of a double heart-attack on the evening of the same day that we came to visit them in their mobile home on the countryside. We usually never visited there too much, but for some reason on that day my mom insisted we go and was not to be calmed down when she met our resistance.
So we went.
That same night, back in the city, the first heart attack struck him in the bathtub, and the second and final one later in the hospital that he had been rushed to. The story goes that he died in the middle of telling the nurse a joke, before he could even get to the pointe - but I don't know how much of this is truth, and how much is comforting embellishment. He was only 62 years old.
I will never forget the looks on my parents' faces when they gently woke us up the next morning to tell us. I was 13, my sister was 10. I remember the funeral, and how my grandmother almost collapsed into the open grave. She had to be supported by her son and son-in-law. The family pretty much fell apart after that. Not that there ever was much contact before that, but whatever little there was, my grandfather made efforts to keep together. My grandmother could never care less, and 14 years later we are all strangers for the most part. My cousin and I only recently found our ways back to each other, and a friendship between us is redeveloping. I am very grateful for this.
The times I have been to his grave in those 14 years I can count on one hand. I am not very good with handling graveyards. But when The Fiancé came here with me, I made the effort to take him to my grandfather's grave, and I introduced my future husband to him there. I went down on my knees, stroked the soft green grass on the grave, and imagined that he has heard my every word, and that he will be there for our wedding when we say our I do's.
I have introduced The Fiancé to my dead grandfather but never once to my living grandmother.
Things may have been different in this family if he wouldn't have passed on so soon. I didn't get a chance to develop an adult relationship with my grandfather the way I am blessed with my other grandparents, and about that I am very sad. Still, I do feel like he is still around, that he has been for all these years. I am certain of this. As long as there is someone to love and remember them in life, as long they will be with us in spirit. He comforts me in my dreams when I least expect it yet need it the most. I have proof that it really is him, and not a simple dream image concocted by my subconscience, and if you ask me I will tell you.
I still mourn his passing, mostly that I didn't get to have more time to get to know the person he really was beyond "grandpa". I am a grown-up woman now, about to get married and thinking about having my first child with the man I love more than life. I did not get to share this with him, he got to see me last as a 13 year old girl.
The details of his image have long since faded, but the affection is still there. In my dreams he comes back to me with in all his detail, starting from the one strand of black hair that always fell into his forehead, to his broad and grandfatherly smile, right down to his large belly with the humungous scar where he had cancer surgery many years before his death. As a child I would press my cheek against this belly, and could barely reach around him at all.
I remember him as a strong and healthy man. His black hair had started to fade into salt & pepper, but never had a chance to turn completely white. His heart attack was a shock to all of us. But in a way, it saved me from watching him wilt and fade away the way I do now with my living grandfather, and I will always remember him the way he looked at 62. It is the most painful thing I ever had to endure, watching the people I love most move steadily towards the inevitable. My remaining grandfather is but a shadow of his old self, he is getting visibly weaker with every week. He is now 83 years old, a frail and senile old man. A frail and senile old man who I love so goddamn much and would give everything for - him and my grandma - to keep them in my life forever.
Thinking about and reflecting upon Grandpa Erich's untimely death 14 years ago almost to the day makes me appreciate even more than I usually do how blessed I am with Grandpa Walter and Grandma Hermi still in my life, with hopefully a few more years to go. They got to see me grow into the woman I am now, and when they pass on I will take comfort in the knowledge that they knew the person I turned out to be, and were so proud of that person. Prouder of me than anybody else in my life has ever been of me. If there was one thing I could wish for, then it would be for them to be around long enough to also know that I became a mother, that I passed their genes onto a new generation. It is a gift I want to make them, because I know it is one of their dearest wishes.
Unfortunately, I have no such sentiments about Grandpa Erich's wife, but such is life. Things may have been different in this family if he wouldn't have passed on so soon.
So we went.
That same night, back in the city, the first heart attack struck him in the bathtub, and the second and final one later in the hospital that he had been rushed to. The story goes that he died in the middle of telling the nurse a joke, before he could even get to the pointe - but I don't know how much of this is truth, and how much is comforting embellishment. He was only 62 years old.
I will never forget the looks on my parents' faces when they gently woke us up the next morning to tell us. I was 13, my sister was 10. I remember the funeral, and how my grandmother almost collapsed into the open grave. She had to be supported by her son and son-in-law. The family pretty much fell apart after that. Not that there ever was much contact before that, but whatever little there was, my grandfather made efforts to keep together. My grandmother could never care less, and 14 years later we are all strangers for the most part. My cousin and I only recently found our ways back to each other, and a friendship between us is redeveloping. I am very grateful for this.
The times I have been to his grave in those 14 years I can count on one hand. I am not very good with handling graveyards. But when The Fiancé came here with me, I made the effort to take him to my grandfather's grave, and I introduced my future husband to him there. I went down on my knees, stroked the soft green grass on the grave, and imagined that he has heard my every word, and that he will be there for our wedding when we say our I do's.
I have introduced The Fiancé to my dead grandfather but never once to my living grandmother.
Things may have been different in this family if he wouldn't have passed on so soon. I didn't get a chance to develop an adult relationship with my grandfather the way I am blessed with my other grandparents, and about that I am very sad. Still, I do feel like he is still around, that he has been for all these years. I am certain of this. As long as there is someone to love and remember them in life, as long they will be with us in spirit. He comforts me in my dreams when I least expect it yet need it the most. I have proof that it really is him, and not a simple dream image concocted by my subconscience, and if you ask me I will tell you.
I still mourn his passing, mostly that I didn't get to have more time to get to know the person he really was beyond "grandpa". I am a grown-up woman now, about to get married and thinking about having my first child with the man I love more than life. I did not get to share this with him, he got to see me last as a 13 year old girl.
The details of his image have long since faded, but the affection is still there. In my dreams he comes back to me with in all his detail, starting from the one strand of black hair that always fell into his forehead, to his broad and grandfatherly smile, right down to his large belly with the humungous scar where he had cancer surgery many years before his death. As a child I would press my cheek against this belly, and could barely reach around him at all.
I remember him as a strong and healthy man. His black hair had started to fade into salt & pepper, but never had a chance to turn completely white. His heart attack was a shock to all of us. But in a way, it saved me from watching him wilt and fade away the way I do now with my living grandfather, and I will always remember him the way he looked at 62. It is the most painful thing I ever had to endure, watching the people I love most move steadily towards the inevitable. My remaining grandfather is but a shadow of his old self, he is getting visibly weaker with every week. He is now 83 years old, a frail and senile old man. A frail and senile old man who I love so goddamn much and would give everything for - him and my grandma - to keep them in my life forever.
Thinking about and reflecting upon Grandpa Erich's untimely death 14 years ago almost to the day makes me appreciate even more than I usually do how blessed I am with Grandpa Walter and Grandma Hermi still in my life, with hopefully a few more years to go. They got to see me grow into the woman I am now, and when they pass on I will take comfort in the knowledge that they knew the person I turned out to be, and were so proud of that person. Prouder of me than anybody else in my life has ever been of me. If there was one thing I could wish for, then it would be for them to be around long enough to also know that I became a mother, that I passed their genes onto a new generation. It is a gift I want to make them, because I know it is one of their dearest wishes.
Unfortunately, I have no such sentiments about Grandpa Erich's wife, but such is life. Things may have been different in this family if he wouldn't have passed on so soon.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Truly Magical...
I have just, for the first time in my life, had the opportunity to touch the belly of a 9-months-pregnant woman. For the first time that I remember, at any rate - for I am sure I was all over my mom when she was pregnant with my sister, but I was too young for this to leave any impression on me.
We were sitting outside in the yard of the office having coffee and chatting, when suddenly she unbuttoned and pulled down the denim of her pants that was covering her large belly, and called my boss and me over. "See, if you touch me right here and here, you will feel his foot and his little butt... see?"
I pulled my chair over to her and was staring at her belly a bit in awe before I dared to reach out and touch it. You see, pregnancy is still an enigma to me, something I dream about, but really have no real concept of. I don't know anything about growing a baby inside beyond what they teach you and what you hear from pregnant women, and the simple ability to create life from and within your body is this awe-inducing respect-demanding miracle that in my mind puts all pregnant woman on a shining mysterious pedestal. In my mind pregnancy is 9 months of bliss, during which the woman, thoroughly pampered by the growing child's father, has time and leisure to focus on herself and listen inside herself and be in gleaming awe over what is happening with her body every second of the day. I have always wondered what a pregnancy belly would feel like, and even though there were many women in my life that were pregnant, they never offered for me to touch them, and I never dared to ask. It's just not a thing to ask. All the more stunned I was when she, a girl I barely know at all, offered me to feel her belly, surprised, and dumbfoundedly awe-struck.
I finally reached out and very gently put my palm onto the area she told us his foot would be at, afraid to make her or the baby uncomfortable. She laughed at me and told me to touch a little firmer in order to feel it. So I pressed a bit harder, and could feel a slightly moving bulge. To me, it was a truly magical moment. And very intimate. To feel another woman's unborn child, to feel it move underneath her skin. That very instant gifted me with a whole new layer of perception about pregnancy, and what's really happening with a woman's body, and what a pregnant woman might feel. I understood that I understand nothing of pregnancy yet, and while I rested my hand on her I revelled in my naiveté and the feeling of awe that this not-knowing gave me. I saw before me this whole new world, like fresh untouched snow, just waiting for me to enter and explore by myself. As I saw my boss' hand touching the other side of her belly where the baby's little butt was, and saw the same awe-struck look on his face, I suddenly understood that for men this is all a pregnancy will ever be. All they can ever do is touch, look, admire, wonder, question. For them, this world is not one to explore, it's just one to look at and admire. With my boss' hand and my hand next to each other on her belly, I realized a man's limitations in all of its implications, I realized that at this moment we both knew the exact same limited facts about pregnancy from observation only, but where there is a door for me to walk through and turn observation into personal experience one day, there will always only be a glass window for men to look through, even when it comes to their own offspring.
After the maximum time span I thought was appropriate to keep my hand on her, I finally pulled away, feeling incredibly gifted and special, floating on a cloud for the rest of the day. I am in no rush. I am in no hurry. But I am definitely feeling an inner tremble of excitement when I think of my mere potential to walk through this door myself one day not too far away.
We were sitting outside in the yard of the office having coffee and chatting, when suddenly she unbuttoned and pulled down the denim of her pants that was covering her large belly, and called my boss and me over. "See, if you touch me right here and here, you will feel his foot and his little butt... see?"
I pulled my chair over to her and was staring at her belly a bit in awe before I dared to reach out and touch it. You see, pregnancy is still an enigma to me, something I dream about, but really have no real concept of. I don't know anything about growing a baby inside beyond what they teach you and what you hear from pregnant women, and the simple ability to create life from and within your body is this awe-inducing respect-demanding miracle that in my mind puts all pregnant woman on a shining mysterious pedestal. In my mind pregnancy is 9 months of bliss, during which the woman, thoroughly pampered by the growing child's father, has time and leisure to focus on herself and listen inside herself and be in gleaming awe over what is happening with her body every second of the day. I have always wondered what a pregnancy belly would feel like, and even though there were many women in my life that were pregnant, they never offered for me to touch them, and I never dared to ask. It's just not a thing to ask. All the more stunned I was when she, a girl I barely know at all, offered me to feel her belly, surprised, and dumbfoundedly awe-struck.
I finally reached out and very gently put my palm onto the area she told us his foot would be at, afraid to make her or the baby uncomfortable. She laughed at me and told me to touch a little firmer in order to feel it. So I pressed a bit harder, and could feel a slightly moving bulge. To me, it was a truly magical moment. And very intimate. To feel another woman's unborn child, to feel it move underneath her skin. That very instant gifted me with a whole new layer of perception about pregnancy, and what's really happening with a woman's body, and what a pregnant woman might feel. I understood that I understand nothing of pregnancy yet, and while I rested my hand on her I revelled in my naiveté and the feeling of awe that this not-knowing gave me. I saw before me this whole new world, like fresh untouched snow, just waiting for me to enter and explore by myself. As I saw my boss' hand touching the other side of her belly where the baby's little butt was, and saw the same awe-struck look on his face, I suddenly understood that for men this is all a pregnancy will ever be. All they can ever do is touch, look, admire, wonder, question. For them, this world is not one to explore, it's just one to look at and admire. With my boss' hand and my hand next to each other on her belly, I realized a man's limitations in all of its implications, I realized that at this moment we both knew the exact same limited facts about pregnancy from observation only, but where there is a door for me to walk through and turn observation into personal experience one day, there will always only be a glass window for men to look through, even when it comes to their own offspring.
After the maximum time span I thought was appropriate to keep my hand on her, I finally pulled away, feeling incredibly gifted and special, floating on a cloud for the rest of the day. I am in no rush. I am in no hurry. But I am definitely feeling an inner tremble of excitement when I think of my mere potential to walk through this door myself one day not too far away.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Feeling Better...
Okay, I am feeling a little more calm concerning the wedding now. We have sent almost ALL invitations now, and the ones that are left are either just simple announcements to people not technically invited, or polite invitations to people overseas that need to be notified, but will not have the means (or don't have close enough ties to The Fiancé) to actually come.
We have signed up for dance classes starting on July 5, we have organized those Cuban musicians that I wanted so badly for the reception, and we are halfway through figuring out which music we want played during the ceremony: Pachelbel's "Canon in D" for my grand entry, and "All I ask of You" from Phantom of the Opera instrumentally during the exchange of the rings. I am voting on Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" for the recessional, or maybe "Trumpet Voluntary" by Jeremy Clarke. It's still open to discussion, but I don't worry too much about it now; it feels better having taken at least one step in the right direction in this department. Today those missing papers are supposed to be mailed back to us, and yesterday my sister in her function as my witness and I had a very productive meeting concerning the time frame of this whole day. We have delegated people to organize different things for us, and she has taken a lot of the organizational weight off my shoulders as well.
Over the weekend we will hopefully figure out the menu, and come up with the final theme for the flower decorations. I will contact my cousin and ask him to be the bridal chauffeur, and I will meet my friend the baker to discuss the wedding cake with her. It is slow progress, but progress it is.
We have signed up for dance classes starting on July 5, we have organized those Cuban musicians that I wanted so badly for the reception, and we are halfway through figuring out which music we want played during the ceremony: Pachelbel's "Canon in D" for my grand entry, and "All I ask of You" from Phantom of the Opera instrumentally during the exchange of the rings. I am voting on Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" for the recessional, or maybe "Trumpet Voluntary" by Jeremy Clarke. It's still open to discussion, but I don't worry too much about it now; it feels better having taken at least one step in the right direction in this department. Today those missing papers are supposed to be mailed back to us, and yesterday my sister in her function as my witness and I had a very productive meeting concerning the time frame of this whole day. We have delegated people to organize different things for us, and she has taken a lot of the organizational weight off my shoulders as well.
Over the weekend we will hopefully figure out the menu, and come up with the final theme for the flower decorations. I will contact my cousin and ask him to be the bridal chauffeur, and I will meet my friend the baker to discuss the wedding cake with her. It is slow progress, but progress it is.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Wedding Woes
I wake up with borderline-stomach cramps almost every morning now. I'd interpret it as a little bit of anxiety, if it wouldn't be so ridiculous. I lay awake in bed 2 hours before I should be getting up, turning this way and that, feeling my stomach churning up inside, and my mind going at 300mp/h, worrying about... well, everything.
Why? The answer is 13. 13 weeks until our wedding... 13 weeks during which we still have to do so much work, so many preparations, so much organization. Some of which being pretty fundamental: a document is still missing for me to get married to my foreigner, and the local officials can't figure out how Mexicans pass down names to their wives, and I am faced with the possibility of having to take on a double name - which I don't want for anything in the world.
13 weeks before - and we don't have the name issue settled, and we don't have our official to conduct the ceremony for us because of the missing documents.
Not to mention that all the invitations are still not out yet - which shouldn't worry me so much because we are talking about overseas invitations for people that don't have the money to come anyway. We don't have the music for the ceremony figured out yet. We don't have the decorations figured out. We don't have the translator figured out. Our wedding website isn't finished. We haven't scheduled dancing classes yet. NOTHING is on schedule.
My future mother-in-law just got the measurements for my dress that she is going to taylor for me a couple of days ago, and I toss and turn with worries that my wedding gown will be just like I always dreamed it to be - without having any influence on it at all, considering it's being made 6000 miles away. I sent her a picture of my dream dress which I tried on in the store, along with a drawing and detailed descriptions and instructions. Yet I am aware that whatever beautiful work she does, the dress will NOT be the one I tried on and fell in love with in the store. I am worried sick that I will not like my dress, even though it's not likely, but that there'll be nothing to be done about it, because it was such a special gift made especially for me. I am worried sick that I will try it on when she comes here, and I will look at myself in the mirror and will start to cry with disappointment - all the while being well aware that she and her mother and sister are professional taylors with a lot of experience, who have done wedding dresses countless times before.
I have just done a count of people likely to come, and realized that instead of the calculated 80-100 people, there will be, at best, a maximum of 65. I have nightmares of people not showing up at all almost every night.
One of my closest friends has cancelled on me, because he's in love with me and cannot bear to see me wed.
And countless little details... issues at the side, things not pertaining to the wedding: money worries, work stress, my emotional turmoil over my friend, the budding friendship with Girl.MD.
I am now just wishing it'd already be the last two weeks of August, where nothing but little details need to be taken care of, and we can otherwise just enjoy ourselves and look forward to the wedding, and the upcoming honeymoon.
Or... the day before the wedding, even! With the dreaded bachelorette party already behind me and slept off, and the big exciting day still ahead of me, along with our long trip to Mexico.
I never thought it'd be like this to go through the wedding preps. I always thought this special time will have to be appreciated, savored, every second enjoyed. Life should be shrouded in a pink gleam right now, and The Fiancé and I should be floating and beaming and blowing kisses at each other in loving anticipation. It's not like I am complaining... I love this time, I just never expected it to be so stressful.
Friday we will try to get the name issue resolved at the Mexican embassy, we will go look at rings, and we will try to set up a meeting with the DJ we reserved for our reception. Thursday is a holiday, and I took a day off on Friday... so at least I'll have some four days to refocus, collect myself, and try to relax a bit.
Why? The answer is 13. 13 weeks until our wedding... 13 weeks during which we still have to do so much work, so many preparations, so much organization. Some of which being pretty fundamental: a document is still missing for me to get married to my foreigner, and the local officials can't figure out how Mexicans pass down names to their wives, and I am faced with the possibility of having to take on a double name - which I don't want for anything in the world.
13 weeks before - and we don't have the name issue settled, and we don't have our official to conduct the ceremony for us because of the missing documents.
Not to mention that all the invitations are still not out yet - which shouldn't worry me so much because we are talking about overseas invitations for people that don't have the money to come anyway. We don't have the music for the ceremony figured out yet. We don't have the decorations figured out. We don't have the translator figured out. Our wedding website isn't finished. We haven't scheduled dancing classes yet. NOTHING is on schedule.
My future mother-in-law just got the measurements for my dress that she is going to taylor for me a couple of days ago, and I toss and turn with worries that my wedding gown will be just like I always dreamed it to be - without having any influence on it at all, considering it's being made 6000 miles away. I sent her a picture of my dream dress which I tried on in the store, along with a drawing and detailed descriptions and instructions. Yet I am aware that whatever beautiful work she does, the dress will NOT be the one I tried on and fell in love with in the store. I am worried sick that I will not like my dress, even though it's not likely, but that there'll be nothing to be done about it, because it was such a special gift made especially for me. I am worried sick that I will try it on when she comes here, and I will look at myself in the mirror and will start to cry with disappointment - all the while being well aware that she and her mother and sister are professional taylors with a lot of experience, who have done wedding dresses countless times before.
I have just done a count of people likely to come, and realized that instead of the calculated 80-100 people, there will be, at best, a maximum of 65. I have nightmares of people not showing up at all almost every night.
One of my closest friends has cancelled on me, because he's in love with me and cannot bear to see me wed.
And countless little details... issues at the side, things not pertaining to the wedding: money worries, work stress, my emotional turmoil over my friend, the budding friendship with Girl.MD.
I am now just wishing it'd already be the last two weeks of August, where nothing but little details need to be taken care of, and we can otherwise just enjoy ourselves and look forward to the wedding, and the upcoming honeymoon.
Or... the day before the wedding, even! With the dreaded bachelorette party already behind me and slept off, and the big exciting day still ahead of me, along with our long trip to Mexico.
I never thought it'd be like this to go through the wedding preps. I always thought this special time will have to be appreciated, savored, every second enjoyed. Life should be shrouded in a pink gleam right now, and The Fiancé and I should be floating and beaming and blowing kisses at each other in loving anticipation. It's not like I am complaining... I love this time, I just never expected it to be so stressful.
Friday we will try to get the name issue resolved at the Mexican embassy, we will go look at rings, and we will try to set up a meeting with the DJ we reserved for our reception. Thursday is a holiday, and I took a day off on Friday... so at least I'll have some four days to refocus, collect myself, and try to relax a bit.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Mouth-to-Mouth
"Cold" my a$$... when I went to the pharmacy this morning to get some relief for my stuffed up nose, I was greeted by a pharmacist that told me that within the first 15 minutes of their opening hours I was already the fourth one with a flu to come in. Apparently - since it's June and we just got 75cm of fresh snow in the Alpes and the temperatures here don't climb much higher than 17°C when they SHOULD be close to 30°C - a new wave of the flu has found an opportunity to break out.
After I drowned myself in a tea that is the local equivalent to NyQuil last night I had a relatively easy night of sleep, but today what bothers me most is this incredible pressure on my ears that makes me feel like my head is going to implode any second now. My hearing isn't so great to begin with, and now with this added pressure and stuffed-up-ness of them it has gotten just worse, and no amount of yawning or blowing into my pinched nose will open up the congestion.
The Fiancé suspected a fever when he held me last night, yet still I don't feel fucked up enough to qualify for a day of sick leave.
Girl.MD and I have been sending text messages back and forth while the "L-Word" was on TV last night, and she was all sweet and doctor and offered me some "special mouth-to-mouth" treatment next time. If it keeps going like this, I'll have the most expensive phone bill I ever had, simply because of all the text messages I have been sending lately. o_O
After I drowned myself in a tea that is the local equivalent to NyQuil last night I had a relatively easy night of sleep, but today what bothers me most is this incredible pressure on my ears that makes me feel like my head is going to implode any second now. My hearing isn't so great to begin with, and now with this added pressure and stuffed-up-ness of them it has gotten just worse, and no amount of yawning or blowing into my pinched nose will open up the congestion.
The Fiancé suspected a fever when he held me last night, yet still I don't feel fucked up enough to qualify for a day of sick leave.
Girl.MD and I have been sending text messages back and forth while the "L-Word" was on TV last night, and she was all sweet and doctor and offered me some "special mouth-to-mouth" treatment next time. If it keeps going like this, I'll have the most expensive phone bill I ever had, simply because of all the text messages I have been sending lately. o_O
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Hello, World.
As the title implies... I have been feeling a bit out of it of sorts lately. Maybe it has to do with the crazy week I had to pull at the office, working almost 60 hrs. instead of 40, while having to prepare for the show we were playing last Friday, and getting some private client work done.
Things culminated, when last night the client knocked on our door (per appointment) and I was merrily lounging away on the couch to a movie with The Fiancé, unshowered and unprepared, having completely forgotten about this and having had nothing to show her. How very embarrassing. And no, I will not use the crazy Friday night I had, after which I hit the pillow at pretty much exactly 6AM, as an excuse for anything. Such things are unexcusable - even if I have been running on espresso and sleep-deprivation-induced adrenaline-levels for the past days.
And my body is thanking me for the manhandling by setting my immune system to standby, allowing a nasty cold to take hold as punishment. And just to make this even nastier: it's present enough to make me feel like complete SHIT with my head the size of a watermelon and my throat on hell-fire, but just not present enough to justify a day of sick-leave. Would this be any worse, at least I wouldn't have to sit here staring into the screen, but could lay at home wrapped up in my blankets, sipping hot tea, and catch up on sleep. Who cares if I am sick, if I can SLEEP. But no... none of that. Pure torture, today.
Anyway... Friday's show was great. I actually had some major jitters before we went on, kind of like I had never in my life played on stage before. I guess I was nervous because I felt unsure about playing for a bunch of my countrypeople, and I felt very unsure about being on stage without Roomie#R. We didn't have a singer, so Mr. E had to double function as drummer and singer, and we all know that that's risky business period. I didn't know these Latin Rock cover songs too well, and that added to my insecurity as well. The night before I got into a shouting match with the guitarist - and he felt alien and strange to me, when I looked to my left and saw him standing there, and not Roomie#R. I wonder if that's how he must have felt when they went to play in Mexico without me, but that's just a side note.
But I guess being on stage is like riding a bicycle: once you know how to do it, you won't ever forget anymore. Once I was on there my jitters were gone... I felt Mr. E's familiar presence in my back, and didn't care so much for the guitarist's performance, or that he was even there. To me, he was more of a footnote... and in my mind it was Roomie#R there, playing with us. I felt really excited over playing, and I was exhilarated that one of my very best friends bothered to show up, after all this talk of my old band that he had to endure for the past 2 years. Now he actually saw me on stage, and I wanted to excel - cause it's this "new" definition of myself that my home-based friends don't know yet. I took strange pleasure in his bewildered look when he saw me in my stage outfit and make-up, and his comment on how different and "weird" I looked. I realized that this is a side of me that nobody here knows yet, and has never seen before, or could even imagine. It's the side I want to enforce though, because it's the side that I learned to define a lot of my self-confidence over, and my attitude as a woman. I like the reaction of people when they hear/see a female bass player, and I like to use this to my advantage, to make myself seem much more interesting and mysterious than I am in reality. So you can imagine that I was especially pleased when I noticed how my friend's eyes were practically glued to me throughout the entire time - and what a weird experience it must have been for him after knowing my as ordinary goody-two-shoes-girly for 26 years.
Much to my pleasure, Girl.MD showed up as well. She moved an appointment she had for Friday night in favor of our show, and showed up by her lonesome to come see me play. We didn't get to talk much because before the show I was too focused on myself, and after the show she had to take off right away to perform surgery the next day, but I saw her watching me intently the entire time as well - or, as The Fiancé called it later: she was checking me out all the damn time. Two days later she called me and left me a message, containing a compliment on my performance and greetings to The Fiancé... and I emailed her a picture of the two of us together today.
Which brings me to my next point: my ambivalence towards her. What is going on...? Here I am, having a tall and smart woman practically lusting after me, making a point out of seeing me and getting in touch over and over again, and I am reluctant to take things anywhere. True - she is not exactly my type, but she is by no means ugly, either. She is a bit tomboyish, and I like 'em completely on the feminine side, but she is very pleasant and interesting. And, most importantly, SHE IS INTERESTED IN ME! She wants me, I know that she does, so I don't quite understand my reaction towards her. I don't want to accept the mere possibility that I do not want her close because she is visually about as far away from Jo as any woman could be, and I don't want to accept the thought that I may be getting cold feet when faced with an actual opportunity either. I have been very comfortable with men lately, and I have been enjoying The Fiancé's re-explorations of his bisexuality to the fullest extent. I have had so much great and fulfilling sex with and without Bud lately, that it seems like there isn't even enough room in my head anymore to embark on a new adventure - even if it is one I have been aching to embark on for years. The Fiancé seems to be oozing sex lately, no matter what he says or does, and he fulfills me so completely, that there isn't even room for fantasies of including somebody else into our play.
Or maybe that's all just excuses because I am scared shitless at the thought of taking that final frontier at last.
Let's be honest here, lol. :)
At least I am getting those same vibes from her as well. She's in the exact same situation as I am... and it shows. She isn't pushy, she isn't obvious... she just seems immensely curious yet nervous and shy. It's good circumstances to start with. If I can ever get over myself and open up to her attempts at making closer contact, that is.
Things culminated, when last night the client knocked on our door (per appointment) and I was merrily lounging away on the couch to a movie with The Fiancé, unshowered and unprepared, having completely forgotten about this and having had nothing to show her. How very embarrassing. And no, I will not use the crazy Friday night I had, after which I hit the pillow at pretty much exactly 6AM, as an excuse for anything. Such things are unexcusable - even if I have been running on espresso and sleep-deprivation-induced adrenaline-levels for the past days.
And my body is thanking me for the manhandling by setting my immune system to standby, allowing a nasty cold to take hold as punishment. And just to make this even nastier: it's present enough to make me feel like complete SHIT with my head the size of a watermelon and my throat on hell-fire, but just not present enough to justify a day of sick-leave. Would this be any worse, at least I wouldn't have to sit here staring into the screen, but could lay at home wrapped up in my blankets, sipping hot tea, and catch up on sleep. Who cares if I am sick, if I can SLEEP. But no... none of that. Pure torture, today.
Anyway... Friday's show was great. I actually had some major jitters before we went on, kind of like I had never in my life played on stage before. I guess I was nervous because I felt unsure about playing for a bunch of my countrypeople, and I felt very unsure about being on stage without Roomie#R. We didn't have a singer, so Mr. E had to double function as drummer and singer, and we all know that that's risky business period. I didn't know these Latin Rock cover songs too well, and that added to my insecurity as well. The night before I got into a shouting match with the guitarist - and he felt alien and strange to me, when I looked to my left and saw him standing there, and not Roomie#R. I wonder if that's how he must have felt when they went to play in Mexico without me, but that's just a side note.
But I guess being on stage is like riding a bicycle: once you know how to do it, you won't ever forget anymore. Once I was on there my jitters were gone... I felt Mr. E's familiar presence in my back, and didn't care so much for the guitarist's performance, or that he was even there. To me, he was more of a footnote... and in my mind it was Roomie#R there, playing with us. I felt really excited over playing, and I was exhilarated that one of my very best friends bothered to show up, after all this talk of my old band that he had to endure for the past 2 years. Now he actually saw me on stage, and I wanted to excel - cause it's this "new" definition of myself that my home-based friends don't know yet. I took strange pleasure in his bewildered look when he saw me in my stage outfit and make-up, and his comment on how different and "weird" I looked. I realized that this is a side of me that nobody here knows yet, and has never seen before, or could even imagine. It's the side I want to enforce though, because it's the side that I learned to define a lot of my self-confidence over, and my attitude as a woman. I like the reaction of people when they hear/see a female bass player, and I like to use this to my advantage, to make myself seem much more interesting and mysterious than I am in reality. So you can imagine that I was especially pleased when I noticed how my friend's eyes were practically glued to me throughout the entire time - and what a weird experience it must have been for him after knowing my as ordinary goody-two-shoes-girly for 26 years.
Much to my pleasure, Girl.MD showed up as well. She moved an appointment she had for Friday night in favor of our show, and showed up by her lonesome to come see me play. We didn't get to talk much because before the show I was too focused on myself, and after the show she had to take off right away to perform surgery the next day, but I saw her watching me intently the entire time as well - or, as The Fiancé called it later: she was checking me out all the damn time. Two days later she called me and left me a message, containing a compliment on my performance and greetings to The Fiancé... and I emailed her a picture of the two of us together today.
Which brings me to my next point: my ambivalence towards her. What is going on...? Here I am, having a tall and smart woman practically lusting after me, making a point out of seeing me and getting in touch over and over again, and I am reluctant to take things anywhere. True - she is not exactly my type, but she is by no means ugly, either. She is a bit tomboyish, and I like 'em completely on the feminine side, but she is very pleasant and interesting. And, most importantly, SHE IS INTERESTED IN ME! She wants me, I know that she does, so I don't quite understand my reaction towards her. I don't want to accept the mere possibility that I do not want her close because she is visually about as far away from Jo as any woman could be, and I don't want to accept the thought that I may be getting cold feet when faced with an actual opportunity either. I have been very comfortable with men lately, and I have been enjoying The Fiancé's re-explorations of his bisexuality to the fullest extent. I have had so much great and fulfilling sex with and without Bud lately, that it seems like there isn't even enough room in my head anymore to embark on a new adventure - even if it is one I have been aching to embark on for years. The Fiancé seems to be oozing sex lately, no matter what he says or does, and he fulfills me so completely, that there isn't even room for fantasies of including somebody else into our play.
Or maybe that's all just excuses because I am scared shitless at the thought of taking that final frontier at last.
Let's be honest here, lol. :)
At least I am getting those same vibes from her as well. She's in the exact same situation as I am... and it shows. She isn't pushy, she isn't obvious... she just seems immensely curious yet nervous and shy. It's good circumstances to start with. If I can ever get over myself and open up to her attempts at making closer contact, that is.
