I blame the vacuum cleaner.
Ever since I got that thing, I have been obsessing even more than usual over specks on the rug. I've also been wanting to wash everything. Clothes, bedsheets, my husband's gym bag. I want things to be clean and in its place. I will not put the breakfast sandwich maker away until I am assured that every speck of stray food has been cleaned off, even if I have to dig between the grooves with a bread knife.
See, when my mom and dad moved into their new house, I made fun of my mother for being a maniac about keeping things completely unscathed. If she discovered a scuff mark or if there were any moisture left behind on her counters...oh, Lord. Even before then, she would start wanting to clean up at inopportune times, like, if we were about to go somewhere, she suddenly wanted to dust the side tables and water the plants. Like, do you have to do that now? Can't it wait? But now, scarily, I realize that I understand.
The day I got that vacuum cleaner, I opened up the box, put it together like a G and the next day, I vacuumed the heck out of everything in sight. I self-deprecatingly joked with husband about how obsessed I am with vacuuming and keeping everything spotless now, and he jokingly said, "Uh-oh, you're becoming like your mom," and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Oh. Snap.
Like, you see your parents as these idiosyncrasy-laden, yet lovable people and think you're worlds apart from them. "Our lives are so different, Mom. Don't compare things now to how they were when you first met Dad. Gosh, by the time you were my age, you had three kids already." Oh, Mom. Eye roll. But then you're faced with this feeling of inevitability, this worlds-apart-from-you momness slipping from between the cracks unbeknownst to you into your subconscious actions, inescapable, the momness ingrained in you, manifesting itself as a result of your Mrs-ness. Before you can even ask yourself What am I doing? you've already unthinkingly done it.
Today, I had to put our brand new comforter set on the bed, and I had to wash the old sheets (and therefore, I had to wash everything else that needed to be washed). I had to do it today. In the middle of fluffing out the new comforter and putting the new decorative shams on the pillows, I felt this mommy feeling. I felt almost like I was watching myself go through these domestic motions with the same "maniacal" determination that I used to ridicule. Like, someone was saying See? Now you see, don't you? And all I could say in response was How else could I have known?
Friday, May 29, 2015
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
On the 10th Day of Marriage...
Settling in. Still waiting for the marriage certificate to arrive. That new shower curtain and those burgundy rugs makes the bathroom look almost palatial. New toaster (4 slices!), new blender (husband's morning shakes), an electric can opener, a waffle maker, fluffy towels, and on and on. Let me tell you: I sliced a lemon with a new knife so sharp it was like cutting with a miracle. Jesus turning the water into wine with lemon wedges. Bed Bath and Beyond go hard, tho.
Then husband put together our little three-tiered shower caddy like a little fix-it husband putter-togetherer. And then drinking coffee out of our matching Mr. and Mrs. mugs. And reading our little couples' devotional. And going WalMart shopping and including his particular little likes: bananas, clementines, reduced fat Wheat Thins, unsalted pretzels, and I even threw in a Hamburger Helper for good measure.
I'm in vacuum cleaning heaven. Shark. Not the sharp-toothed water-dweller, the vacuum cleaner (and I just found out that husband says "sweeper" for vacuum cleaner) that has super suction, seamless swiveling, a lift-away feature for easier access along with attachments for crevices and upholstery that will bring tears of joy to your dust-despising eyes.
Leftover rehearsal dinner chicken parmesan. Froze those buddies up before the honeymoon. Come back, defrost, enjoy. But most of all, leftover rehearsal dinner pumpkin bread pudding. That cream cheese icing on top, all gooey and good.
Waking up, seeing him open those sleepy, little boy eyes (he looks like a little boy when he first wakes up) and an immediate smile spreads across his face when he sees me watching. A freckled arm wraps around me and holds me close. I notice the color of his freckles is the same color as my skin. I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine.
Then husband put together our little three-tiered shower caddy like a little fix-it husband putter-togetherer. And then drinking coffee out of our matching Mr. and Mrs. mugs. And reading our little couples' devotional. And going WalMart shopping and including his particular little likes: bananas, clementines, reduced fat Wheat Thins, unsalted pretzels, and I even threw in a Hamburger Helper for good measure.
I'm in vacuum cleaning heaven. Shark. Not the sharp-toothed water-dweller, the vacuum cleaner (and I just found out that husband says "sweeper" for vacuum cleaner) that has super suction, seamless swiveling, a lift-away feature for easier access along with attachments for crevices and upholstery that will bring tears of joy to your dust-despising eyes.
Leftover rehearsal dinner chicken parmesan. Froze those buddies up before the honeymoon. Come back, defrost, enjoy. But most of all, leftover rehearsal dinner pumpkin bread pudding. That cream cheese icing on top, all gooey and good.
Waking up, seeing him open those sleepy, little boy eyes (he looks like a little boy when he first wakes up) and an immediate smile spreads across his face when he sees me watching. A freckled arm wraps around me and holds me close. I notice the color of his freckles is the same color as my skin. I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine.
Saturday, May 16, 2015
0 Days
0 days.
So, this is my last blog post as a single woman.
Guess I'll finally have to change my blog's tagline. "Newlywed girl meets postmodern world"? Nah. Doesn't have the same ring.
Part of my blog's theme heretofore has been the ups and downs of singlehood. Being a single girl has been part of what's given my blog its particular character since I started it in 2005. Now, 10 years later, here I am, packing for my honeymoon and not getting any sleep because I'm too nervous and excited.
While I'm beyond ecstatic about getting married and sharing my life with someone I love, I feel like it's the end of an era.
Here's to new beginnings.
So, this is my last blog post as a single woman.
Guess I'll finally have to change my blog's tagline. "Newlywed girl meets postmodern world"? Nah. Doesn't have the same ring.
Part of my blog's theme heretofore has been the ups and downs of singlehood. Being a single girl has been part of what's given my blog its particular character since I started it in 2005. Now, 10 years later, here I am, packing for my honeymoon and not getting any sleep because I'm too nervous and excited.
While I'm beyond ecstatic about getting married and sharing my life with someone I love, I feel like it's the end of an era.
Here's to new beginnings.
Monday, May 11, 2015
5 Days
5 days.
Marriage license obtained. All that's left to do is for Pops (officiating) to sign it with the power invested in him after the ceremony and abracadabra, we're legally married. It was so weird. Like, all this time wanting to get married and now when I have the license in hand, no turning back, I'm like...excited, but at the same time, not able to fully grasp it somehow.
I made a veggie pizza that is ridiculous. Sauteed some green, yellow and orange bell peppers (on sale at Kroger), sliced up a tomato (on the vine) and along with the usual tomato sauce and mozzarella base, topped all my ingredients with a little bit of extra shredded mozzarella and crumbled goat cheese. Ridic.
Still haven't even gotten started on writing my vows. What am I doing? My fiancé is a super duper vow writer, almost done with his, and here I am, a lazy sack of non-vow-writing bones. I'm just praying that I get hit with a jolt of inspiration really really soon.
This is what I know. It. CANNOT. Rain. No, ma'am and no, sir. All the nawls there ever were in the negative no of not. It cannot. It can NOT. The 10 day weather report talking all this yang yang right now and I'm going to need it to stop. I rebuke weather.com and its weather report being used of the adversary talking about some scattered thunderstorms. Oh, no it ain't. I shall believe the report of the Lord. I claim clear skies in Jesus' name. If ye shall ask anything in my name, I will do it. I am asking (for real) right now, in Jesus' name for no rain on my wedding day.
Here's to inspiration and clear skies!
Marriage license obtained. All that's left to do is for Pops (officiating) to sign it with the power invested in him after the ceremony and abracadabra, we're legally married. It was so weird. Like, all this time wanting to get married and now when I have the license in hand, no turning back, I'm like...excited, but at the same time, not able to fully grasp it somehow.
I made a veggie pizza that is ridiculous. Sauteed some green, yellow and orange bell peppers (on sale at Kroger), sliced up a tomato (on the vine) and along with the usual tomato sauce and mozzarella base, topped all my ingredients with a little bit of extra shredded mozzarella and crumbled goat cheese. Ridic.
Still haven't even gotten started on writing my vows. What am I doing? My fiancé is a super duper vow writer, almost done with his, and here I am, a lazy sack of non-vow-writing bones. I'm just praying that I get hit with a jolt of inspiration really really soon.
This is what I know. It. CANNOT. Rain. No, ma'am and no, sir. All the nawls there ever were in the negative no of not. It cannot. It can NOT. The 10 day weather report talking all this yang yang right now and I'm going to need it to stop. I rebuke weather.com and its weather report being used of the adversary talking about some scattered thunderstorms. Oh, no it ain't. I shall believe the report of the Lord. I claim clear skies in Jesus' name. If ye shall ask anything in my name, I will do it. I am asking (for real) right now, in Jesus' name for no rain on my wedding day.
Here's to inspiration and clear skies!
Wednesday, May 06, 2015
10 Days
10 days.
Huge stack of final exams cackling at me, daring me to even start grading them. I have a half-baked online class waiting for me to click, add, upload, screencast. Students emailing me making up stories about how they neeeeeed to get into this online Spanish I class to graduate. Really? In no existing program at this august university does anyone need Spanish I to graduate. Get outta here with that.
One last session of marriage counseling scheduled tomorrow. Why does it make me so nervous? Why is the idea of the ceremony still making me so nervous? Why can't I peacefully exist and peacefully and gratefully usher myself into my blissful, perfect, prized life as a happy, blissful perfect wife? Why can't I be gushingly happy and wake up every morning shedding tears of gratitude, thanking my lucky stars that I finally found a man and that he's so cute and that he's gonna be my BFF for life and we're going to be happy in our little happy happy life and have cute, fat little happy babies who are going to be SO BEAUTIFUL since...you know.
My wedding dress. What is it going to look like? Omigawd. And the marriage license. And what kind of shoes am I going to wear? And, Dad, do you like this song for our father/daughter dance? Are you guys going to sing? Omigawd. Can you imagine me trying to sling a guitar strap over my wedding dress? Please. He'll play and sing, but I'm just going to sing. And what are my colors going to be? And can children come? Oh, I'm so sorry I forgot to RSVP. Can I still come? Rehearsal dinner. Rehearse and then dine. Lingerie shower. A shower of lingerie. Omigawd. There's the big day, but the big night is coming up, too. Heh, heh. Hint, hint. Yeah, yeah, I get it. You're so funny and original. I'll go ahead and say it, since it's so funny. Sex. Wedding night = sex. My husband and I are going to have sex. We're getting married so we can have sex. There. I said it.
Announcement to my enlightened colleagues: Yes, I have made the heart-wrenching decision to succumb to the hegemonic clutches of the white, male, straight, privileged, racist, classist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, capitalist, colonialist, nationalistic, fascist, murderous, douchey, bromancified, American-speaking, fratboyish, beer-drinking patriarchy to change my last name. I shall lay down my maiden name, the name of my truest self, the name that represents my authenticity as a real woman (even though it, too, was forced upon me by the patriarchy) and sacrifice it as a martyr to the cause of fully becoming a subservient sellout.
I don't want to just want my wedding day to come and be done with. I don't want to want that. I want to enjoy it. I want to tell the contradictory, worrying, hyperactive, dramatic, obsessive part of my brain to calm down and shut up and chill out and please, just for once, let me live.
Huge stack of final exams cackling at me, daring me to even start grading them. I have a half-baked online class waiting for me to click, add, upload, screencast. Students emailing me making up stories about how they neeeeeed to get into this online Spanish I class to graduate. Really? In no existing program at this august university does anyone need Spanish I to graduate. Get outta here with that.
One last session of marriage counseling scheduled tomorrow. Why does it make me so nervous? Why is the idea of the ceremony still making me so nervous? Why can't I peacefully exist and peacefully and gratefully usher myself into my blissful, perfect, prized life as a happy, blissful perfect wife? Why can't I be gushingly happy and wake up every morning shedding tears of gratitude, thanking my lucky stars that I finally found a man and that he's so cute and that he's gonna be my BFF for life and we're going to be happy in our little happy happy life and have cute, fat little happy babies who are going to be SO BEAUTIFUL since...you know.
My wedding dress. What is it going to look like? Omigawd. And the marriage license. And what kind of shoes am I going to wear? And, Dad, do you like this song for our father/daughter dance? Are you guys going to sing? Omigawd. Can you imagine me trying to sling a guitar strap over my wedding dress? Please. He'll play and sing, but I'm just going to sing. And what are my colors going to be? And can children come? Oh, I'm so sorry I forgot to RSVP. Can I still come? Rehearsal dinner. Rehearse and then dine. Lingerie shower. A shower of lingerie. Omigawd. There's the big day, but the big night is coming up, too. Heh, heh. Hint, hint. Yeah, yeah, I get it. You're so funny and original. I'll go ahead and say it, since it's so funny. Sex. Wedding night = sex. My husband and I are going to have sex. We're getting married so we can have sex. There. I said it.
Announcement to my enlightened colleagues: Yes, I have made the heart-wrenching decision to succumb to the hegemonic clutches of the white, male, straight, privileged, racist, classist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, capitalist, colonialist, nationalistic, fascist, murderous, douchey, bromancified, American-speaking, fratboyish, beer-drinking patriarchy to change my last name. I shall lay down my maiden name, the name of my truest self, the name that represents my authenticity as a real woman (even though it, too, was forced upon me by the patriarchy) and sacrifice it as a martyr to the cause of fully becoming a subservient sellout.
I don't want to just want my wedding day to come and be done with. I don't want to want that. I want to enjoy it. I want to tell the contradictory, worrying, hyperactive, dramatic, obsessive part of my brain to calm down and shut up and chill out and please, just for once, let me live.
Monday, May 04, 2015
12 Days
12 days.
We've almost paid everyone we need to pay. People are still secondhandedly announcing their possible intentions to come when the RSVP deadline was April 15. We got galvanized buckets on sale for 50% off at Hobby Lobby to line the aisles with baby's breath and/or sunflowers. I never imagined that buying buckets on sale would ever be even marginally tied to any sense of personal satisfaction.
We're writing our own vows. I haven't even gotten started on mine yet. Of course my guy is well on his way to finishing his, despite the many other papers and projects he's working on now. He's such a poetic, creative soul. I love that about him. It's overwhelmingly endearing and super sexy at the same time. I mean, I was proposed to with an original song and poem. I'm sorry, but nothing can top that. I am completely convinced that I have the best proposal story ever. I have a creative side, too, but I'm just so...sort of floating around in the ether right now. I need to find the presence of mind to do it. Soon.
I don't know why, but we're this close to The Big Day, and I still can't picture it. Like, I still can't wrap my mind around wearing a wedding dress and walking down a grassy aisle on my father's arm. I can't picture standing below a sunflower-entwined dark wooden arch with a lily pad pond in the background while we say our vows. I can't imagine riding away in a horse-drawn carriage with my new husband. All of these things are going to happen. But it still doesn't seem like it is going to happen. For some reason, in a way, I know they're going to happen, but it feels like they're going to happen to someone else.
I'm trying to enjoy this time and not let my temporary dissertation-writing hiatus get to me, but I can't help it. I am a non-productive helium balloon while my fiancé is a well-oiled, paper-typing, project-finishing machine. I've spent the past few days eating apple cinnamon instant oatmeal and watching BuzzFeed videos while he's been running statistical analysis of his "tokens" on R. I know that once the wedding is over and we get back from our honeymoon, I will have to kick it into gear. I'll be teaching an online class, writing an additional chapter and editing a manuscript for a professor. I'm just in this cloudy otherworld right now and I just have to accept the fact that I'm in it and will continue to exist in it for a little while longer.
While there's a part of me that feels this nebulous almost detachment, there's another part of me that is experiencing this heady, adrenaline-laced sense of expectation. Every time I look at him, I have this impulse to examine him to the point of abstraction. How his freckles sprinkle over his upper cheeks. A couple of eyebrow hairs that are lighter than the rest. Long, dark lashes blinking slowly. That scar on his right elbow. His dimple on the right cheek. His fingers are more than twice the size of mine. I wear a ring size 4. He wears a size 11. He has this way of biting the corner of his bottom lip. Somehow, each of these mundane details are like tiny miracles.
We've almost paid everyone we need to pay. People are still secondhandedly announcing their possible intentions to come when the RSVP deadline was April 15. We got galvanized buckets on sale for 50% off at Hobby Lobby to line the aisles with baby's breath and/or sunflowers. I never imagined that buying buckets on sale would ever be even marginally tied to any sense of personal satisfaction.
We're writing our own vows. I haven't even gotten started on mine yet. Of course my guy is well on his way to finishing his, despite the many other papers and projects he's working on now. He's such a poetic, creative soul. I love that about him. It's overwhelmingly endearing and super sexy at the same time. I mean, I was proposed to with an original song and poem. I'm sorry, but nothing can top that. I am completely convinced that I have the best proposal story ever. I have a creative side, too, but I'm just so...sort of floating around in the ether right now. I need to find the presence of mind to do it. Soon.
I don't know why, but we're this close to The Big Day, and I still can't picture it. Like, I still can't wrap my mind around wearing a wedding dress and walking down a grassy aisle on my father's arm. I can't picture standing below a sunflower-entwined dark wooden arch with a lily pad pond in the background while we say our vows. I can't imagine riding away in a horse-drawn carriage with my new husband. All of these things are going to happen. But it still doesn't seem like it is going to happen. For some reason, in a way, I know they're going to happen, but it feels like they're going to happen to someone else.
I'm trying to enjoy this time and not let my temporary dissertation-writing hiatus get to me, but I can't help it. I am a non-productive helium balloon while my fiancé is a well-oiled, paper-typing, project-finishing machine. I've spent the past few days eating apple cinnamon instant oatmeal and watching BuzzFeed videos while he's been running statistical analysis of his "tokens" on R. I know that once the wedding is over and we get back from our honeymoon, I will have to kick it into gear. I'll be teaching an online class, writing an additional chapter and editing a manuscript for a professor. I'm just in this cloudy otherworld right now and I just have to accept the fact that I'm in it and will continue to exist in it for a little while longer.
While there's a part of me that feels this nebulous almost detachment, there's another part of me that is experiencing this heady, adrenaline-laced sense of expectation. Every time I look at him, I have this impulse to examine him to the point of abstraction. How his freckles sprinkle over his upper cheeks. A couple of eyebrow hairs that are lighter than the rest. Long, dark lashes blinking slowly. That scar on his right elbow. His dimple on the right cheek. His fingers are more than twice the size of mine. I wear a ring size 4. He wears a size 11. He has this way of biting the corner of his bottom lip. Somehow, each of these mundane details are like tiny miracles.
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
17 Days
17 days.
I went to one of our favorite coffee spots with my fiancé yesterday and ran into one of my old students. No, not one of my old students since I've been teaching in my current program, but one of my students from my very first teaching job. When I taught her, she was in middle school. Now she's graduating from undergrad, is about to start a grad program at another school and is getting married a mere year after I am. Did you hear me? One of my former MIDDLE SCHOOL students is now going to grad school and getting married. Encountering her brought on this strange, contradictory mix of feelings: I felt super old, I felt like I had come a long way since the years of my first teaching job, yet I also felt like somewhat of a late bloomer. All these years and you're still in school? You're finally getting married, wow, can you believe it? In some ways, I feel like I've been precocious throughout my life, and in other ways, I feel like I've been the last to arrive. This funny thing called life.
I never anticipated how ambivalent I would feel about having a wedding ceremony. By extension, I never anticipated how ambivalent I would feel about the idea of getting married itself.
I was talking to my very good friend who's been there and done that and she said that sometimes you have to stop and ask yourself a few questions to remind yourself of why you're making/you've made whatever decision to stop the ambivalence from overwhelming you.
Do you want to have a ceremony?
Answer: yes
Even though I have justice of the peace fantasies, even now, I've convinced myself that ultimately, this ceremony is going to be worth it. It is going to be a rare moment where the people most important to us in our lives are going to be there, all together. It's going to be stressful, I know...I mean, it already is, but I'm going to be glad that I shared this time with everyone and I'm thankful that so many people have gone out of their way and made sacrifices to come and celebrate with us.
Do you want to be married?
Answer: yes
I've always wanted to share my life with someone. It wasn't so long ago that I sometimes struggled with loneliness. I learned how to cope with it and I think I even got used to it, but every once in a while, I would be reminded that having a life partner was something I longed for. I also have always wanted to have a family, and having and raising children is not something I've ever dreamed of doing without a husband.
Do you want to marry your fiancé?
Answer: yes
I love my fiancé, and he meets my needs. He loves me the way I've always dreamed of being loved by someone, he is Spirit-filled and committed to being a part of the church together, he wants to have a family, and he is willing to try. Of course, there are many other qualities about him that are positive and many other things about us both which bring us together, but the things I mentioned are the necessary ones in order for me to commit to someone and stay committed to them for life.
(Sigh.) Everything is happening so fast. I think everything will have to just happen, and then I will take time to reflect on it so I can process it all. It's just difficult to completely process things right now.
I went to one of our favorite coffee spots with my fiancé yesterday and ran into one of my old students. No, not one of my old students since I've been teaching in my current program, but one of my students from my very first teaching job. When I taught her, she was in middle school. Now she's graduating from undergrad, is about to start a grad program at another school and is getting married a mere year after I am. Did you hear me? One of my former MIDDLE SCHOOL students is now going to grad school and getting married. Encountering her brought on this strange, contradictory mix of feelings: I felt super old, I felt like I had come a long way since the years of my first teaching job, yet I also felt like somewhat of a late bloomer. All these years and you're still in school? You're finally getting married, wow, can you believe it? In some ways, I feel like I've been precocious throughout my life, and in other ways, I feel like I've been the last to arrive. This funny thing called life.
I never anticipated how ambivalent I would feel about having a wedding ceremony. By extension, I never anticipated how ambivalent I would feel about the idea of getting married itself.
I was talking to my very good friend who's been there and done that and she said that sometimes you have to stop and ask yourself a few questions to remind yourself of why you're making/you've made whatever decision to stop the ambivalence from overwhelming you.
Do you want to have a ceremony?
Answer: yes
Even though I have justice of the peace fantasies, even now, I've convinced myself that ultimately, this ceremony is going to be worth it. It is going to be a rare moment where the people most important to us in our lives are going to be there, all together. It's going to be stressful, I know...I mean, it already is, but I'm going to be glad that I shared this time with everyone and I'm thankful that so many people have gone out of their way and made sacrifices to come and celebrate with us.
Do you want to be married?
Answer: yes
I've always wanted to share my life with someone. It wasn't so long ago that I sometimes struggled with loneliness. I learned how to cope with it and I think I even got used to it, but every once in a while, I would be reminded that having a life partner was something I longed for. I also have always wanted to have a family, and having and raising children is not something I've ever dreamed of doing without a husband.
Do you want to marry your fiancé?
Answer: yes
I love my fiancé, and he meets my needs. He loves me the way I've always dreamed of being loved by someone, he is Spirit-filled and committed to being a part of the church together, he wants to have a family, and he is willing to try. Of course, there are many other qualities about him that are positive and many other things about us both which bring us together, but the things I mentioned are the necessary ones in order for me to commit to someone and stay committed to them for life.
(Sigh.) Everything is happening so fast. I think everything will have to just happen, and then I will take time to reflect on it so I can process it all. It's just difficult to completely process things right now.
Saturday, April 18, 2015
Repondez, S'il Vous Plait
R.S.V.P. A common abbreviation for the French repondez, s'il vous plait. Often used within the context of event planning, a common courtesy asked of those invited to "respond," indicating to the event planner whether said invitee is attending.
Literally: Respond, if it pleases you.
Naturally: Respond, if you please.
Commonly: Respond, please.
Chantell-ly: For the love of God, let me know BEFORE the RSVP deadline whether you're coming to my wedding so that I can rent the right amount chairs and have the right amount of food. I certainly don't want to be short of chairs, space or food, but neither do I want to spend more than I actually need to on chairs, space or food.
So, the RSVP deadline was April 15. And, yes, I am about to get Bridezilly and ranty because this junk gets on my nerves.
To be fair, I get it. My wedding is not the center of the universe, and people have lives and people get busy and people forget. The RSVP deadline was on April 15, after all. I'm sure folks who were waiting till the last minute, as we all so often do, were more concerned about how much they might get back from Uncle Sam than whether there'd be enough salmon pinwheels for them to snack on after my ceremony. I get it. I do.
For example, a professor of ours who was invited desired to come, but when she tried to register herself and her guest via our website and found she couldn't because it was the day of the deadline, she let us know and we gladly added her. That, I get. A mentor of mine who has assured me she was coming, told me about the dress she bought for it and told me about the tie she bought for her son did not RSVP personally on the website, but since I knew she was coming, I registered her and her family myself. That, I also get.
This is what I don't get: People who have said BUPKIS to me, not via text, not via email, not via FB message, not via any means of communication and then when my dear mother (bless her heart) emails you (subject line: "Failure to RSVP") to verify, you respond, "Yes, we're planning on attending." WHAT? Who is "we"? How many of you are "we"? When were you planning to let anybody know? Vague as heck after-the-fact responders. This is what I don't get: People who have RSVPed as soon as the invitation hit your mailbox, then you found out later that you and your guest(s) wouldn't be able to make it after all, but you say BUPKIS to me and just mention it to my mom in passing. NOT COOL. Here's what else I don't get: People who told me to my face you wouldn't be able to make it all apologetic, then a couple of days after the RSVP deadline, you just happen to run into my parents talking about some, "Oh, we're going to make it after all!" NAWL.
I love my people. I love my family. I love my church family. I love my friends. I love y'all. For real. I want you to come to my wedding. I do. If I didn't want you to come, I wouldn't have invited you. But folks out here in these streets treating my wedding like a potluck at Ebenezer Baptist Church somewhere your grandmama and auntie go to every 5th Sunday. No, ma'am. I say no to this. I say seet yo'self down to this. I say all the nawls to this. I rebuke the spirit of repondez s'il vous plait negligence in Jaysus name! Just let a sista know. That's all I ask. Let a sista know. And not the day of.
It just frustrates me that people do not get what all goes into planning a wedding. People don't have a concept of what it means to be less than a month away from The Big Day and needing to turn in final numbers to your caterers and rental places. People can't grasp the fact that we're also doing 1 million other things and part of the reason we set the RSVPs up the way we did is so that we didn't have to keep track of who said they were coming and who didn't and whose cousin can't make it and all of that rigmarole because WE DON'T HAVE TIME. Both of us are planning a wedding smack dab in the middle of PhD programs at the end of the semester. Ain't nobody got time for that. Nobody understands that.
But one day they or one of their kids will have to plan a wedding, too...then it'll dawn on them. But I get that too. Some things you can't understand until you are staring it dead in the face.
Literally: Respond, if it pleases you.
Naturally: Respond, if you please.
Commonly: Respond, please.
Chantell-ly: For the love of God, let me know BEFORE the RSVP deadline whether you're coming to my wedding so that I can rent the right amount chairs and have the right amount of food. I certainly don't want to be short of chairs, space or food, but neither do I want to spend more than I actually need to on chairs, space or food.
So, the RSVP deadline was April 15. And, yes, I am about to get Bridezilly and ranty because this junk gets on my nerves.
To be fair, I get it. My wedding is not the center of the universe, and people have lives and people get busy and people forget. The RSVP deadline was on April 15, after all. I'm sure folks who were waiting till the last minute, as we all so often do, were more concerned about how much they might get back from Uncle Sam than whether there'd be enough salmon pinwheels for them to snack on after my ceremony. I get it. I do.
For example, a professor of ours who was invited desired to come, but when she tried to register herself and her guest via our website and found she couldn't because it was the day of the deadline, she let us know and we gladly added her. That, I get. A mentor of mine who has assured me she was coming, told me about the dress she bought for it and told me about the tie she bought for her son did not RSVP personally on the website, but since I knew she was coming, I registered her and her family myself. That, I also get.
This is what I don't get: People who have said BUPKIS to me, not via text, not via email, not via FB message, not via any means of communication and then when my dear mother (bless her heart) emails you (subject line: "Failure to RSVP") to verify, you respond, "Yes, we're planning on attending." WHAT? Who is "we"? How many of you are "we"? When were you planning to let anybody know? Vague as heck after-the-fact responders. This is what I don't get: People who have RSVPed as soon as the invitation hit your mailbox, then you found out later that you and your guest(s) wouldn't be able to make it after all, but you say BUPKIS to me and just mention it to my mom in passing. NOT COOL. Here's what else I don't get: People who told me to my face you wouldn't be able to make it all apologetic, then a couple of days after the RSVP deadline, you just happen to run into my parents talking about some, "Oh, we're going to make it after all!" NAWL.
I love my people. I love my family. I love my church family. I love my friends. I love y'all. For real. I want you to come to my wedding. I do. If I didn't want you to come, I wouldn't have invited you. But folks out here in these streets treating my wedding like a potluck at Ebenezer Baptist Church somewhere your grandmama and auntie go to every 5th Sunday. No, ma'am. I say no to this. I say seet yo'self down to this. I say all the nawls to this. I rebuke the spirit of repondez s'il vous plait negligence in Jaysus name! Just let a sista know. That's all I ask. Let a sista know. And not the day of.
It just frustrates me that people do not get what all goes into planning a wedding. People don't have a concept of what it means to be less than a month away from The Big Day and needing to turn in final numbers to your caterers and rental places. People can't grasp the fact that we're also doing 1 million other things and part of the reason we set the RSVPs up the way we did is so that we didn't have to keep track of who said they were coming and who didn't and whose cousin can't make it and all of that rigmarole because WE DON'T HAVE TIME. Both of us are planning a wedding smack dab in the middle of PhD programs at the end of the semester. Ain't nobody got time for that. Nobody understands that.
But one day they or one of their kids will have to plan a wedding, too...then it'll dawn on them. But I get that too. Some things you can't understand until you are staring it dead in the face.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
T-minus 30 days, a.k.a. The Unveiling of Off the Chainness
Today I woke up and was like, yup.
Today is April 16. Today is exactly a month away from May 16, otherwise known as The Big Day.
And, by the way, the RSVP cut off date, otherwise known as Tax Day, was yesterday. But back to today.
Did people fail to RSVP as if my wedding is a barbecue that you can just show up to if you can make it and bring cousin Junebug along with you cuz he ain't have nothin to do?
Did people text reminding me that it's a month away/asking me if kids are allowed/asking if I'm having a "bachelorette party" and suggesting when I should have it/telling me that they might not be able to make it?
Do I still have mad quizzes to grade and do I have to figure out registration and health insurance because I'm not going to be on assistantship since I won this fellowship?
Do I want to crawl into a hole, find a lamp, rub it, and have a magic wedding genie pop out to magically do everything?
Do I want to scream "You lie!" at anyone who dares suggest that The Big Day is "my" day?
Did I squirm in my seat during a meeting today when my upcoming wedding was mentioned and then the conversation quickly turned to name-changing conventions among married women in the U.S. and in Latin America and did I desperately hope no one would ask me whether I was going to change my own name?
Yes. Yes, I say. Yes, to all of it.
I know I need to relax and stop being a control freak and just keep repeating to myself over and over "Everything's going to be fine. Everything's going to come together." That's what I've been doing, truth be told.
It's just that there's something about today that feels like the beginning of the end. Like, that the outpouring of the wrath of the wedding gods has officially commenced. Like, as if this were a 1960s movie set during the Roman Empire and some cart-riding plebeian on some kind of journey just looked up at the darkening sky and a lightning bolt flashed and thunder rolled and this foreboding music began to play and he said aloud, "It begins! It begins!"
I know I'm going to be happy. But can I hit a fast-forward button through this end of semester/wedding planning/crunch time madness and not hit play again until my dad says, "You may now kiss the bride"? That's right, my dad is officiating and my man is going to have to lay one on me dead in my dad's face. But we'll cross that bridge when we get there.
Today is April 16. Today is exactly a month away from May 16, otherwise known as The Big Day.
And, by the way, the RSVP cut off date, otherwise known as Tax Day, was yesterday. But back to today.
Did people fail to RSVP as if my wedding is a barbecue that you can just show up to if you can make it and bring cousin Junebug along with you cuz he ain't have nothin to do?
Did people text reminding me that it's a month away/asking me if kids are allowed/asking if I'm having a "bachelorette party" and suggesting when I should have it/telling me that they might not be able to make it?
Do I still have mad quizzes to grade and do I have to figure out registration and health insurance because I'm not going to be on assistantship since I won this fellowship?
Do I want to crawl into a hole, find a lamp, rub it, and have a magic wedding genie pop out to magically do everything?
Do I want to scream "You lie!" at anyone who dares suggest that The Big Day is "my" day?
Did I squirm in my seat during a meeting today when my upcoming wedding was mentioned and then the conversation quickly turned to name-changing conventions among married women in the U.S. and in Latin America and did I desperately hope no one would ask me whether I was going to change my own name?
Yes. Yes, I say. Yes, to all of it.
I know I need to relax and stop being a control freak and just keep repeating to myself over and over "Everything's going to be fine. Everything's going to come together." That's what I've been doing, truth be told.
It's just that there's something about today that feels like the beginning of the end. Like, that the outpouring of the wrath of the wedding gods has officially commenced. Like, as if this were a 1960s movie set during the Roman Empire and some cart-riding plebeian on some kind of journey just looked up at the darkening sky and a lightning bolt flashed and thunder rolled and this foreboding music began to play and he said aloud, "It begins! It begins!"
I know I'm going to be happy. But can I hit a fast-forward button through this end of semester/wedding planning/crunch time madness and not hit play again until my dad says, "You may now kiss the bride"? That's right, my dad is officiating and my man is going to have to lay one on me dead in my dad's face. But we'll cross that bridge when we get there.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Wedding Jitters?
So, the day is very quickly approaching.
I feel like everything about my perceptions and how I feel things are perceived are heightened. Things bother me much more easily and things easily make me cry. Like today, I wanted to leave Starbucks because this old lady interrogated my fiancé about his t-shirt. "What does that say? I'm just trying to read what it says. What does that mean?" Like, who are you? It's the name of a band you've never heard of and why do you even care other than feigning "innocent curiosity" in order to be nosy and judgmental, you old bag?
I realize that I am also super sensitive about how I feel people perceive us as a couple. I'm all about noticing how awkward-seeming people are who I think are either uncomfortable with an interracial couple or just don't know how to place us. So they either just act weird and/or act super nice and go with the fall back "oh, my God you guys are so CUTE." And I'm over here like, um...thanks? I'm willing to admit it's probably largely in my head. In any event, I should just saddle up because I don't imagine it'll be any less awkward when little bambinos come along.
I had a bridesmaid dress-related moment yesterday. I just had to sit and cry for a minute and then just take a deep breath and get it together because what else can you do except just hope that everything will somehow work out? And it will work out. It wasn't even a huge deal. I just want everything to be done and planned and set up and decided and paid for. And it isn't yet. But it will be.
Sometimes I look deeply into my fiancé's eyes. Not just because I'm in love with him, which I am, but I'm trying to grasp something I feel I haven't grasped yet about him and don't know if I ever will. It's not like I don't know him or don't feel comfortable with him. It's not like I don't know his habits, likes and dislikes, what makes him laugh, what annoys him. It's not like I don't know what his goals are in life, what he's passionate about. It's just the realization that you can never 100% "know" a person. You can't read their minds. You can't go back in time and somehow become them and live their entire lives as them up until this point. He is a separate person and I can't control what he does and what he does is going to affect me. It's not like I'm afraid he's going to suddenly do a bunch of weird stuff...I mean, if I felt that way, I wouldn't marry him. It's just that there's a sense of the unknown about entering into this phase of life. I don't know what being married is truly like. And I won't know until I'm there.
I feel like everything about my perceptions and how I feel things are perceived are heightened. Things bother me much more easily and things easily make me cry. Like today, I wanted to leave Starbucks because this old lady interrogated my fiancé about his t-shirt. "What does that say? I'm just trying to read what it says. What does that mean?" Like, who are you? It's the name of a band you've never heard of and why do you even care other than feigning "innocent curiosity" in order to be nosy and judgmental, you old bag?
I realize that I am also super sensitive about how I feel people perceive us as a couple. I'm all about noticing how awkward-seeming people are who I think are either uncomfortable with an interracial couple or just don't know how to place us. So they either just act weird and/or act super nice and go with the fall back "oh, my God you guys are so CUTE." And I'm over here like, um...thanks? I'm willing to admit it's probably largely in my head. In any event, I should just saddle up because I don't imagine it'll be any less awkward when little bambinos come along.
I had a bridesmaid dress-related moment yesterday. I just had to sit and cry for a minute and then just take a deep breath and get it together because what else can you do except just hope that everything will somehow work out? And it will work out. It wasn't even a huge deal. I just want everything to be done and planned and set up and decided and paid for. And it isn't yet. But it will be.
Sometimes I look deeply into my fiancé's eyes. Not just because I'm in love with him, which I am, but I'm trying to grasp something I feel I haven't grasped yet about him and don't know if I ever will. It's not like I don't know him or don't feel comfortable with him. It's not like I don't know his habits, likes and dislikes, what makes him laugh, what annoys him. It's not like I don't know what his goals are in life, what he's passionate about. It's just the realization that you can never 100% "know" a person. You can't read their minds. You can't go back in time and somehow become them and live their entire lives as them up until this point. He is a separate person and I can't control what he does and what he does is going to affect me. It's not like I'm afraid he's going to suddenly do a bunch of weird stuff...I mean, if I felt that way, I wouldn't marry him. It's just that there's a sense of the unknown about entering into this phase of life. I don't know what being married is truly like. And I won't know until I'm there.
Sunday, April 05, 2015
The Couple of Things I Was Thinking About Today
So, I turned 33 without major incident and my sweet fiancé turned 28 a few days later. Yeah, I thought I was attracted to older guys, but this young'un comes along and all of that goes out the window. A cougar and a Bridezilla rolled into one. Ah, well. I had a nice birthday dinner. See?
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Anyway, I was thinking about a couple of things today. The first is this: You don't really know until you're there.
What I'm saying is that I've had ideas about things. How things were supposed to be. How things were supposed to happen. Well, being in a relationship, for starters. To say that I idealized things is accurate, but incomplete. It's not as simple as idealizing. It's more like, there were things I didn't anticipate. And by that, I mean challenges as well as benefits. What I'm saying is that things are much more dynamic than a two-dimensional, linear sequence of events. It's like I had this static, predictable, sequential model in my head, and what's happened (happening) is this multidimensional, infinite set that has a pattern I haven't quite figured out yet. It's like, what I thought would happen (or was supposed to happen) is 1+1=2, but what ended up happening is pi. You see? I can only speak metaphorically because it's the only way to make what I want to express have any semblance of sense. It's exhilarating but scary because I'm giving up a bit of the control that I'm so used to having. Or so used to thinking that I have. Being a control freak is next to impossible in a relationship. In the end, I'm constantly reminded of my need for God. I believe that every step we take is somehow tailored to remind us that we need Him and that we were never meant to go it alone.
The second thing is this: I hope I never forget how it was.
I hope I never forget the loneliness I struggled with at times. I hope I never forget an extremely low point in my life where getting out of bed was what I dreaded every single morning. I hope I never forget the longing that I feel now every time I have to say goodnight to my fiancé. It is so ridiculously easy to take things for granted. It's scandalously easy. I don't want to fall into that trap. I don't ever want to take my husband-to-be for granted. I want to treasure every minute I have to spend with him and not just assume that his presence in my life is a given. The good has definitely outweighed the bad in my few decades on Earth. But remembering the negative is just a reminder to cherish the positive.
Anyway, I was thinking about a couple of things today. The first is this: You don't really know until you're there.
What I'm saying is that I've had ideas about things. How things were supposed to be. How things were supposed to happen. Well, being in a relationship, for starters. To say that I idealized things is accurate, but incomplete. It's not as simple as idealizing. It's more like, there were things I didn't anticipate. And by that, I mean challenges as well as benefits. What I'm saying is that things are much more dynamic than a two-dimensional, linear sequence of events. It's like I had this static, predictable, sequential model in my head, and what's happened (happening) is this multidimensional, infinite set that has a pattern I haven't quite figured out yet. It's like, what I thought would happen (or was supposed to happen) is 1+1=2, but what ended up happening is pi. You see? I can only speak metaphorically because it's the only way to make what I want to express have any semblance of sense. It's exhilarating but scary because I'm giving up a bit of the control that I'm so used to having. Or so used to thinking that I have. Being a control freak is next to impossible in a relationship. In the end, I'm constantly reminded of my need for God. I believe that every step we take is somehow tailored to remind us that we need Him and that we were never meant to go it alone.
The second thing is this: I hope I never forget how it was.
I hope I never forget the loneliness I struggled with at times. I hope I never forget an extremely low point in my life where getting out of bed was what I dreaded every single morning. I hope I never forget the longing that I feel now every time I have to say goodnight to my fiancé. It is so ridiculously easy to take things for granted. It's scandalously easy. I don't want to fall into that trap. I don't ever want to take my husband-to-be for granted. I want to treasure every minute I have to spend with him and not just assume that his presence in my life is a given. The good has definitely outweighed the bad in my few decades on Earth. But remembering the negative is just a reminder to cherish the positive.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Tomorrow's my birthday. Yay!
Tomorrow's my birthday and I'm going to be older than I've ever been. Hee, hee. And, omg, it's my last birthday as a single lady. What?
I'm excited because my sweet future husband is really excited about whatever it is that he got me as a gift, and because we're getting dressed up and going to dinner. I love getting dressed up and going to dinner. I'm going to wear a dress he's never seen me in before. Heh, heh. I teach tomorrow, but I'm bringing candy to class to make it at least somewhat celebratory. Good candy, too.
You know, what's funny is that my birthday and my sweet future husband's birthday are only four days apart. I think it's another sign that we were meant to be. We could just have a birthday week together.
I hope no matter how old I get, that I always feel special on my birthday.
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
This Thing Called Life
It's a phrase that, when our pastor says it, always causes my fiancé and me to exchange knowing looks and smiles. It's one of several pastoral catch phrases. I told my fiancé we should make a pastoral phrase bingo card to play during church.
Anyhoo, I digress.
In this thing called life, things happen that you never expected would happen. Things don't happen that you always thought would (or should) happen. It's just part of how it goes.
My 33rd birthday is right around the corner. Do I need to let that sink in for a minute? I am going to be the age our Lord Jesus Christ was when He died on the old rugged cross. But He rose. Halleluyer.
I was contemplating my birthday's proximity out loud in front of my students and admitted that I have about 15 years on most of them in there. I teach Elementary Spanish, so most of my students are freshmen. They looked at me wide eyed. "No, way, Profesora!" I was like, "I can show you my driver's license." You know what they say, tho...black don't crack. I ain't mad.
Ahem. Again, I digress.
So, I'm getting older, people usually think I'm 6-10 years younger, and I think I'm ready for 33. It's a pivotal year, no? I've got one more year of writing my dissertation before I become a Dr., and I've got 52 days before I become a Mrs. I can't complain.
Can I just get mushy and gushy and say how much I LURVE my man? He's what I need. That's all I can say. He's what I need. I never imagined in a million years that I would ever marry this dude. I'm telling you, I remember seeing him for the first time offhandedly in the computer lab a couple years ago before we had anything to do with one another, and if some angel of light had come down from heaven right then to tell me he was my future husband, I would have been like, "Whuuuut? Get back to heaven and go saddown somewhere."
I never imagined in a million years that I would get married while in this PhD program. But here we are. So much can change in this thing called life.
I applied for a particular dissertation fellowship in hopes that next year I would be able to write my dissertation without any teaching responsibilities. It's a nationally recognized program that provides funding for a year and also opens many professional doors for the awardees. I went for it knowing that it was a long shot. Knowing that it was super competitive, that the odds were against me, that I probably wouldn't get it, but that would be okay, that—
I found out yesterday that I'm an awardee!
Well, well, well. Something about this thing called life. I was ecstatic. I was floored. I never imagined that I would actually get it. My super awesome, amazing genius woman professor who is now at Harvard applied for it back in her day and she didn't get it the first time. I thought if she didn't get it the first time around, then my chances are next to none.
It just goes to show you that you never know. God does, though. He keeps trying to show me that I just need to relax. That I just need to keep moving forward and to enjoy my journey.
Anyhoo, I digress.
In this thing called life, things happen that you never expected would happen. Things don't happen that you always thought would (or should) happen. It's just part of how it goes.
My 33rd birthday is right around the corner. Do I need to let that sink in for a minute? I am going to be the age our Lord Jesus Christ was when He died on the old rugged cross. But He rose. Halleluyer.
I was contemplating my birthday's proximity out loud in front of my students and admitted that I have about 15 years on most of them in there. I teach Elementary Spanish, so most of my students are freshmen. They looked at me wide eyed. "No, way, Profesora!" I was like, "I can show you my driver's license." You know what they say, tho...black don't crack. I ain't mad.
Ahem. Again, I digress.
So, I'm getting older, people usually think I'm 6-10 years younger, and I think I'm ready for 33. It's a pivotal year, no? I've got one more year of writing my dissertation before I become a Dr., and I've got 52 days before I become a Mrs. I can't complain.
Can I just get mushy and gushy and say how much I LURVE my man? He's what I need. That's all I can say. He's what I need. I never imagined in a million years that I would ever marry this dude. I'm telling you, I remember seeing him for the first time offhandedly in the computer lab a couple years ago before we had anything to do with one another, and if some angel of light had come down from heaven right then to tell me he was my future husband, I would have been like, "Whuuuut? Get back to heaven and go saddown somewhere."
I never imagined in a million years that I would get married while in this PhD program. But here we are. So much can change in this thing called life.
I applied for a particular dissertation fellowship in hopes that next year I would be able to write my dissertation without any teaching responsibilities. It's a nationally recognized program that provides funding for a year and also opens many professional doors for the awardees. I went for it knowing that it was a long shot. Knowing that it was super competitive, that the odds were against me, that I probably wouldn't get it, but that would be okay, that—
I found out yesterday that I'm an awardee!
Well, well, well. Something about this thing called life. I was ecstatic. I was floored. I never imagined that I would actually get it. My super awesome, amazing genius woman professor who is now at Harvard applied for it back in her day and she didn't get it the first time. I thought if she didn't get it the first time around, then my chances are next to none.
It just goes to show you that you never know. God does, though. He keeps trying to show me that I just need to relax. That I just need to keep moving forward and to enjoy my journey.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Bridezilla
Ugh. I apologize in advance.
1. In less than two months from now, I'm getting married. Yup. I have a counter on my blog. I am so aware of it. I wake up every morning and think about it. You (yes, You, probably well-meaning, nameless, composite, passive-aggressive target) reminding me of it is NOT HELPING. Yes, I know it's soon. Yes, I'm excited. Yes, I'm nervous. Like, what do you hope to accomplish by asking me these things and stating the obvious? What reaction to these inquiries do you hope to elicit? You are making me more nervous. And if you can visibly see that your prattle is making me more nervous, your saying "Oh, I don't mean to make you more nervous! Oh, I don't mean to overwhelm you!" is even more infuriating, because what else did you expect? Did you think I was going to break into song and dance out of gratefulness for being reminded of what is already branded into my brain?
2. MORE people have tried to invite themselves. What is this? A self-invitation epidemic that is plaguing brides-to-be like some sort of annoying, presumptuous, clueless Ebola virus? Yes, I DO mind that you would like to come. We have a limited guest list and limited money. Period. Ugh, I've already extended invitations to people I probably shouldn't have. People out here acting like going to my wedding is the last step in the plan of salvation. Go sit yourself down somewhere and stop trying to get all up in my lifespace.
3. And of the people who have been invited, I have this sinking feeling that some are going to fail to RSVP on time (before April 15) and then ghettoly be like, "Aw, you knew I was planning to come!" and then show up and get extra helpings of spinach and artichoke dip. Nawl. We need headcounts, people. We need cold, hard numbers so that we'll know how much seating we'll need for the ceremony and reception. We need cold, hard numbers so we'll know how much food to pay for. How much and how many of every little thing we're going to need for everyone. There is a very simple, streamlined process mentioned on the invitation and outlined on my wedding website for you to sign the heck up. It only takes a few clicks and typing strokes. I already have 100 million things buzzing around in my brain. Trying to remember whether so-and-so mentioned they were coming is not one of them. We've set that sucker to disallow RSVPs after the cutoff date, so if you're planning to come, let my lovely little online registration process know, not me. No, we were not dealing with no send in a response card madness. Extra postage and having to keep up with that junk. We are living in 2015.
4. I am in a passionate hate affair with myself because I am getting NOTHING done. I have a dissertation to write. I have chapters due. I have things to accomplish, and here I am, inching along like a slothful slug because I can't compartmentalize. This is beyond procrastination. Okay...maybe I can give myself a millimeter of credit. I did turn in a chapter this semester, I am presenting at a conference next month, and I do have an article being published in a forthcoming edited volume. But it's still woefully embarrassing how far behind I am. I HAVE to finish in May 2016. I absolutely have to.
1. In less than two months from now, I'm getting married. Yup. I have a counter on my blog. I am so aware of it. I wake up every morning and think about it. You (yes, You, probably well-meaning, nameless, composite, passive-aggressive target) reminding me of it is NOT HELPING. Yes, I know it's soon. Yes, I'm excited. Yes, I'm nervous. Like, what do you hope to accomplish by asking me these things and stating the obvious? What reaction to these inquiries do you hope to elicit? You are making me more nervous. And if you can visibly see that your prattle is making me more nervous, your saying "Oh, I don't mean to make you more nervous! Oh, I don't mean to overwhelm you!" is even more infuriating, because what else did you expect? Did you think I was going to break into song and dance out of gratefulness for being reminded of what is already branded into my brain?
2. MORE people have tried to invite themselves. What is this? A self-invitation epidemic that is plaguing brides-to-be like some sort of annoying, presumptuous, clueless Ebola virus? Yes, I DO mind that you would like to come. We have a limited guest list and limited money. Period. Ugh, I've already extended invitations to people I probably shouldn't have. People out here acting like going to my wedding is the last step in the plan of salvation. Go sit yourself down somewhere and stop trying to get all up in my lifespace.
3. And of the people who have been invited, I have this sinking feeling that some are going to fail to RSVP on time (before April 15) and then ghettoly be like, "Aw, you knew I was planning to come!" and then show up and get extra helpings of spinach and artichoke dip. Nawl. We need headcounts, people. We need cold, hard numbers so that we'll know how much seating we'll need for the ceremony and reception. We need cold, hard numbers so we'll know how much food to pay for. How much and how many of every little thing we're going to need for everyone. There is a very simple, streamlined process mentioned on the invitation and outlined on my wedding website for you to sign the heck up. It only takes a few clicks and typing strokes. I already have 100 million things buzzing around in my brain. Trying to remember whether so-and-so mentioned they were coming is not one of them. We've set that sucker to disallow RSVPs after the cutoff date, so if you're planning to come, let my lovely little online registration process know, not me. No, we were not dealing with no send in a response card madness. Extra postage and having to keep up with that junk. We are living in 2015.
4. I am in a passionate hate affair with myself because I am getting NOTHING done. I have a dissertation to write. I have chapters due. I have things to accomplish, and here I am, inching along like a slothful slug because I can't compartmentalize. This is beyond procrastination. Okay...maybe I can give myself a millimeter of credit. I did turn in a chapter this semester, I am presenting at a conference next month, and I do have an article being published in a forthcoming edited volume. But it's still woefully embarrassing how far behind I am. I HAVE to finish in May 2016. I absolutely have to.
Friday, March 13, 2015
When Things Start to Look Up
A couple of months ago, my fiancé felt led to make a few sandwiches, give them out to the homeless downtown and pray for them. He asked if I wanted to join him, and I did.
Everyone was very gracious, accepted what we offered them and allowed us to pray with them. One man in particular was very responsive. We'll call him Tony. He sits out on a bench not too far from the Starbucks downtown. He talked about a friend of his who comes by to chat with him, and I said, "I know it means a lot to you to have someone to talk to." And he replied, "It doesn't mean a lot, it means everything." He talked about how people walk by, ignoring him everyday, not even acknowledging him. He told us about a student who belittled him yelling at him to "get a job." He said, "I told him, 'Give me one.' If someone offered me a job, I'd take it." He said how much it means, not for someone to give him money, but just to acknowledge him as a person. As a human being. We prayed with him and he cried, saying he was so grateful for our prayers. From that day on, anytime I've passed a homeless person, I've said hello or smiled and nodded, even if I didn't have anything to give, just to acknowledge them.
We saw Tony again today, and guess what? He told us someone offered him a job. It's a part time job doing custodial work, but it's something. He said soon he's going to open a bank account. And then his next goal will be to look for housing. What amazing news to hear!
I love it when things start to look up for people who really need things to start looking up for them. It makes me feel like they're looking up for me, too.
Everyone was very gracious, accepted what we offered them and allowed us to pray with them. One man in particular was very responsive. We'll call him Tony. He sits out on a bench not too far from the Starbucks downtown. He talked about a friend of his who comes by to chat with him, and I said, "I know it means a lot to you to have someone to talk to." And he replied, "It doesn't mean a lot, it means everything." He talked about how people walk by, ignoring him everyday, not even acknowledging him. He told us about a student who belittled him yelling at him to "get a job." He said, "I told him, 'Give me one.' If someone offered me a job, I'd take it." He said how much it means, not for someone to give him money, but just to acknowledge him as a person. As a human being. We prayed with him and he cried, saying he was so grateful for our prayers. From that day on, anytime I've passed a homeless person, I've said hello or smiled and nodded, even if I didn't have anything to give, just to acknowledge them.
We saw Tony again today, and guess what? He told us someone offered him a job. It's a part time job doing custodial work, but it's something. He said soon he's going to open a bank account. And then his next goal will be to look for housing. What amazing news to hear!
I love it when things start to look up for people who really need things to start looking up for them. It makes me feel like they're looking up for me, too.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Bridal Shower. Wedding Dress. Spring Break.
My fiancé and I have been in my hometown since Friday. We're leaving to go back to the place we call home tomorrow morning. Several important little events have transpired:
1. My family met his family for the first time. His mom, stepdad, sister and little niece all came into town for the shower. I was a little nervous at first, but everything went over quite well and I realized, as I have with many other things, that there was nothing for me to be nervous about.
2. My bridal shower. My mom and a lot of church ladies came together to make my bridal shower an absolute success. It was beautiful. I got to spend time with good friends, I got to see friends I hadn't seen in a while, and we just had a fun time. We got lots of things we registered for, which was exciting, and I even got a few lacy, racy things we didn't register for (but which are no less exciting, lol!) I'm going to have a LOT of thank yous to write. I just felt so overwhelmed by everyone's love and well-wishes. I know that I am truly blessed to have so many people who love me and consider me like one of their own. To see pictures, click here.
3. My wedding dress. Done. I had a final fitting yesterday, and it is completely finished, along with the accompanying veil. I shall not post pictures of me with my dress on...I can't chance my fiancé getting a glimpse of them. It's bad luck. I'll have to make everyone else wait to see me in it just like I'm making him wait. I'm very happy with how everything turned out. It's everything I never knew I wanted.
4. Spring Break. This week. i.e. a week without having to teach. That's part of why we're heading back tomorrow...I have so much work to do and I have a deadline hanging over my head (which I'll be very hard-pressed to meet, but I have to at least try). The longer I'm here with my family, the less I'll get done. So I have to take advantage of these work-free days to...work. We've had a lovely time, though. And we're going to take a little day trip tomorrow before we get back to the grind.
I am sad tonight in a way I didn't expect. I said goodbye to my brothers, who now live in my parents' "old house," the house I grew up in. I realized it was the last time I'd see that house, be in that house, before I get married. It was like saying goodbye to a part of me I was leaving behind. As we drove back over to my parents' current home, I realized it would probably be my last time coming home to visit before I get married. It was the most bittersweet feeling. I spent the better part of my twenties trying to get out of this city, trying to leave it behind. Southern, syrupy-sweet, cloying, but with the best of intentions. Reminders of things better left where they are. Now you're never coming back the same way. Thinking I never wanted to. Knowing that things aren't going to radically change, but knowing that they'll never be the same.
1. My family met his family for the first time. His mom, stepdad, sister and little niece all came into town for the shower. I was a little nervous at first, but everything went over quite well and I realized, as I have with many other things, that there was nothing for me to be nervous about.
2. My bridal shower. My mom and a lot of church ladies came together to make my bridal shower an absolute success. It was beautiful. I got to spend time with good friends, I got to see friends I hadn't seen in a while, and we just had a fun time. We got lots of things we registered for, which was exciting, and I even got a few lacy, racy things we didn't register for (but which are no less exciting, lol!) I'm going to have a LOT of thank yous to write. I just felt so overwhelmed by everyone's love and well-wishes. I know that I am truly blessed to have so many people who love me and consider me like one of their own. To see pictures, click here.
3. My wedding dress. Done. I had a final fitting yesterday, and it is completely finished, along with the accompanying veil. I shall not post pictures of me with my dress on...I can't chance my fiancé getting a glimpse of them. It's bad luck. I'll have to make everyone else wait to see me in it just like I'm making him wait. I'm very happy with how everything turned out. It's everything I never knew I wanted.
4. Spring Break. This week. i.e. a week without having to teach. That's part of why we're heading back tomorrow...I have so much work to do and I have a deadline hanging over my head (which I'll be very hard-pressed to meet, but I have to at least try). The longer I'm here with my family, the less I'll get done. So I have to take advantage of these work-free days to...work. We've had a lovely time, though. And we're going to take a little day trip tomorrow before we get back to the grind.
I am sad tonight in a way I didn't expect. I said goodbye to my brothers, who now live in my parents' "old house," the house I grew up in. I realized it was the last time I'd see that house, be in that house, before I get married. It was like saying goodbye to a part of me I was leaving behind. As we drove back over to my parents' current home, I realized it would probably be my last time coming home to visit before I get married. It was the most bittersweet feeling. I spent the better part of my twenties trying to get out of this city, trying to leave it behind. Southern, syrupy-sweet, cloying, but with the best of intentions. Reminders of things better left where they are. Now you're never coming back the same way. Thinking I never wanted to. Knowing that things aren't going to radically change, but knowing that they'll never be the same.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Guitar Center
I went to Guitar Center with my fiancé today to hear him play the drums on one of the little (electronic) drum sets they have set up for people to test out. Even though our relationship began jamming out with each other on our acoustic guitars, he's always told me he feels more passionate about the drums. In the many bands he's been in and collaborations he's been a part of, he was frequently the drummer.
I heard him play the drums for the first time today. And he was amazing. And very passionate. And the whole thing was just...incredibly hot.
I don't know what it is about music, what it is about the creative process, what it is about collaborating together musically or just observing someone display a musical talent where they are wholly in their element, that is just super intimate. There's something intangible, something spellbinding about it.
I told him I wouldn't be able to marry him unless I heard him play the drums. And now that I've heard him...it's definitely on.
I heard him play the drums for the first time today. And he was amazing. And very passionate. And the whole thing was just...incredibly hot.
I don't know what it is about music, what it is about the creative process, what it is about collaborating together musically or just observing someone display a musical talent where they are wholly in their element, that is just super intimate. There's something intangible, something spellbinding about it.
I told him I wouldn't be able to marry him unless I heard him play the drums. And now that I've heard him...it's definitely on.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Since when did my wedding become "Treat yo' self"?
There is a legendary episode of Parks and Recreation where Tom and Donna have "treat yo' self" day. It is hilarious and I love it. Watch the "treat yo' self" segment here.
However, when did May 16, 2015 become treat yo' self for folks?
Like, I'm talking about folks inviting themselves to the wedding without shame. I'm talking about folks messaging me talking about some "I wasn't invited" and not kidding. I'm talking about folks proffering their congratulations on my engagement followed by their mailing address as if to say "I know I'm invited so lemme go 'head and give you my address so you can send me an invitation."
Like, what the heck? When did this become a thing? I would NEVER invite myself to someone's wedding. Like, I would never even kid around talking about some "I wasn't invited."
How about I just institute a policy saying feel free to invite yourself if you're willing to pay for yourself? Ugh. What an (outside) wedding boils down to is renting enough chairs for butts to sit in during the ceremony and purchasing enough food for all the mouths waiting to be fed during the reception.
The side of me that fantasizes about going down to the courthouse and being done with it is starting to sound more and more reasonable. I wouldn't do that, though. My fiancé doesn't want that. And I think it'll be nice. I know I'll be glad we had a ceremony and had an occasion where our families and friends could celebrate with us. It'll be worth it. But I seriously think I will go Bridezilla on somebody if one more person boggles my mind with their presumptuousness.
If you weren't invited it's because a. Maybe I like you and consider you a friend but maybe we haven't been in touch in a while, b. We ain't cool like that, c. You're an ex (more or less), d. We're poor and didn't consider you important enough to put money on the line for your butt to sit and your mouth to eat, and/or e. You got to draw the line somewhere.
I have a shower coming up in my hometown in a little over a week. I know my dear mom really wants it to be nice and I'm looking forward to it. Some of my fiancé's family are coming and they will meet my family for the first time. It will go fine. I'm not worried about that. But I do have a sinking feeling that what I may have to deal with is somebody saying something crazy to me at the shower. And I'm to the point where if anyone has the audacity to say something crazy, I will have to let some of the Bridezilla out. Seriously. My wedding is not treat yo' self, and you can't say ridiculous stuff to me and expect to not get called on it.
I have come to the conclusion that there are two things that bring out the crazy in people, and they are 1. weddings and 2. babies. And even though #2 isn't happening for at least a year after we're married, can you believe that people are ALREADY asking us about kids? Seriously. Can we first let the ink dry on the freaking marriage license before you start getting all up in my grill about the state of my uterus?
A blog quite befits passive-aggression, does it not?
However, when did May 16, 2015 become treat yo' self for folks?
Like, I'm talking about folks inviting themselves to the wedding without shame. I'm talking about folks messaging me talking about some "I wasn't invited" and not kidding. I'm talking about folks proffering their congratulations on my engagement followed by their mailing address as if to say "I know I'm invited so lemme go 'head and give you my address so you can send me an invitation."
Like, what the heck? When did this become a thing? I would NEVER invite myself to someone's wedding. Like, I would never even kid around talking about some "I wasn't invited."
How about I just institute a policy saying feel free to invite yourself if you're willing to pay for yourself? Ugh. What an (outside) wedding boils down to is renting enough chairs for butts to sit in during the ceremony and purchasing enough food for all the mouths waiting to be fed during the reception.
The side of me that fantasizes about going down to the courthouse and being done with it is starting to sound more and more reasonable. I wouldn't do that, though. My fiancé doesn't want that. And I think it'll be nice. I know I'll be glad we had a ceremony and had an occasion where our families and friends could celebrate with us. It'll be worth it. But I seriously think I will go Bridezilla on somebody if one more person boggles my mind with their presumptuousness.
If you weren't invited it's because a. Maybe I like you and consider you a friend but maybe we haven't been in touch in a while, b. We ain't cool like that, c. You're an ex (more or less), d. We're poor and didn't consider you important enough to put money on the line for your butt to sit and your mouth to eat, and/or e. You got to draw the line somewhere.
I have a shower coming up in my hometown in a little over a week. I know my dear mom really wants it to be nice and I'm looking forward to it. Some of my fiancé's family are coming and they will meet my family for the first time. It will go fine. I'm not worried about that. But I do have a sinking feeling that what I may have to deal with is somebody saying something crazy to me at the shower. And I'm to the point where if anyone has the audacity to say something crazy, I will have to let some of the Bridezilla out. Seriously. My wedding is not treat yo' self, and you can't say ridiculous stuff to me and expect to not get called on it.
I have come to the conclusion that there are two things that bring out the crazy in people, and they are 1. weddings and 2. babies. And even though #2 isn't happening for at least a year after we're married, can you believe that people are ALREADY asking us about kids? Seriously. Can we first let the ink dry on the freaking marriage license before you start getting all up in my grill about the state of my uterus?
A blog quite befits passive-aggression, does it not?
Sunday, February 22, 2015
There he is.
We're planning on finally mailing out our invitations tomorrow. So, we spent Friday night and a few hours on Saturday addressing them and stuffing them. I bought a purple calligraphy pen so that I could make them look cute. We totally did not spend a lot of money on the invitations at all. The invitations themselves look classy, but none of this double envelope stuff, no bells or whistles. We did get address labels for our return address. Let's face it, although some sentimental fools might save the invitations (to be thrown in with their ever-growing piles of sentimental junk), the majority of human beings who receive one will do what the majority of human beings do with paper things that are likely to be left laying around—throw them away. Why spend extra money on uber-nice invitations when they're going to end up getting tossed?
Friday night we were sitting at my (soon to be "our") table, me using my purple calligraphy pen, him applying return address labels and stuffing them with invitations and our Bed Bath & Beyond registry cards, both of us listening to some background music, when it hit me: We are addressing our invitations. Our ceremony has been planned and is going to happen at a specific date and time very soon. We are getting married. There was something about sitting there addressing the invitations at that moment that brought tears to my eyes. A question came to mind: Did you ever think you would be sitting here at this table addressing wedding invitations with your future husband? Suddenly, the mundane became surreal.
I'm a crybaby. Thankfully, my fiancé has gotten used to it and is no longer alarmed whenever tears unwittingly spring to my eyes. He just smiled and held me while I whimpered, "I just can't believe it."
I always wondered what my husband was going to look like, what kind of man he was going to be. And while my fiancé held me and stroked my hair, I felt like someone was telling me, "See? There he is. This is what he looks like. This is the kind of man he is."
Friday night we were sitting at my (soon to be "our") table, me using my purple calligraphy pen, him applying return address labels and stuffing them with invitations and our Bed Bath & Beyond registry cards, both of us listening to some background music, when it hit me: We are addressing our invitations. Our ceremony has been planned and is going to happen at a specific date and time very soon. We are getting married. There was something about sitting there addressing the invitations at that moment that brought tears to my eyes. A question came to mind: Did you ever think you would be sitting here at this table addressing wedding invitations with your future husband? Suddenly, the mundane became surreal.
I'm a crybaby. Thankfully, my fiancé has gotten used to it and is no longer alarmed whenever tears unwittingly spring to my eyes. He just smiled and held me while I whimpered, "I just can't believe it."
I always wondered what my husband was going to look like, what kind of man he was going to be. And while my fiancé held me and stroked my hair, I felt like someone was telling me, "See? There he is. This is what he looks like. This is the kind of man he is."
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Exceedingly, Abundantly Above
I got a phone call yesterday that tearfully overwhelmed me. My friend is having a baby.
We don't talk often. Once every few months. When we do, we just pick up from where we left off. The last time we talked, I was giving her wedding updates and I asked if she and her husband were still thinking about children. She'd had a miscarriage a couple of years ago and though they wanted children, it had been a while since then and still...nothing. She's entering her late 30s and was unsure if it would ever happen for them. She said if it happened, it would be wonderful, but if it didn't, that would be okay, too. She said they might consider adoption.
But she called me yesterday and told me she's having a baby. She's far enough along that she felt comfortable sharing the news. I was overjoyed. But what really gave me this overwhelming feeling of wonder was that the last time we'd talked, she was already pregnant, but just didn't know it yet. While she was telling me she didn't know whether it would ever happen and if it never did, that would be okay, it had already happened. There was something holy and wonderful about that thought.
It made me cry because I was overjoyed for her. It made me cry because it made me reflect on my own "unexpected" experience of crossing paths with my future husband. It made me cry because it gave me hope.
I see now more clearly than I ever have that things are never "settled." Finding a life partner is a milestone for sure, but each stage of life brings a new set of questions and a new set of uncertainties. My friend's news somehow reassured me that God knows where we are, what we desire and what we need at every stage of life. Her news reminded me that not only does God provide, He goes beyond what we could have ever imagined or thought possible for ourselves.
I see now more clearly than I ever have that things are never "settled." Finding a life partner is a milestone for sure, but each stage of life brings a new set of questions and a new set of uncertainties. My friend's news somehow reassured me that God knows where we are, what we desire and what we need at every stage of life. Her news reminded me that not only does God provide, He goes beyond what we could have ever imagined or thought possible for ourselves.
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