Thursday, July 28, 2005


I think I've mentioned before that I lack self-discipline. Sort of. I go to the gym every day. Well, nearly every day. I probably go 13 out of every 14 days. I've been wanting to increase my work outs from about 30-45 minutes to 45-60 minutes. The only way that seemed to happen is if I worked out for 30 minutes before work and then 30 minutes after work. That was happening for awhile. I really like working out before work. I felt great.

But lately only the morning workout has been happening. By the time I get home from work, I'm too tired/hungry/lazy/busy to get to the gym. I'm trying not to beat myself up too much about this and rationalize that 30 minutes every day with 30 additional minutes about twice a week is not that bad. It's certainly a step up from the days when I would hit the gym only 3 days a week for 30 minutes at a time. Sometimes less.

My other downfall lately has been ice cream. It's one of my favorite things on the planet and since it's summer, it only makes sense to have ice cream every day.

Have I mentioned that a Rita's opened down the street from me? Oh sweet temptress.

Park N Clean

I get strangely attached to things. To the craziest things. Like my dry cleaners. I'm very loyal about some things and my dry cleaning is one of those things. I've used the same cleaners for 7 years. They know me by name. They've known me by name since the second time I used them. I found that charming and I stuck with them since. It didn't hurt that they did some kick ass tailoring either.

Now they are closing and I'm sad.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Song of the Day

Because it's stuck in my head is "These Words" by Natasha Bedingfield.

An Open Letter

Dear Humidity,

You're ruining my life. I hate you.


Monday, July 25, 2005


That guy on the end in the white shirt was a furniture sales rep. He bought all the drinks that night. So we liked him. A lot. So much so that he didn't get cropped out of the photo.

Drinking in Milwaukee

This is what happens when you leave a bunch of geeks in my industry up to our own devices. There's some Canadians in this group, who are a lot cooler than I otherwise would have given them credit for.

Rock on to Brandy for taking (and sending out) these pictures!

Friday, July 22, 2005

Swingin' Single

I'm a swingin' single this weekend. Ron's leaving me to go play with his boys in NYC this weekend. I'm really looking forward to being home this weekend. I feel like I've been on the go since early June.

I'm going for drinks tonight with my friend Meg, but other than that, I have no plans. Well, by no plans, I mean that I'm going to clean the apartment top to bottom, sit in the park reading and watch HGTV. Oh, and my most exciting plan of all...just to give you an idea of how geeky I buying a new address book so that I can combine all of my family/friend addresses with all Ron's family/friend addresses. Wow, is that exciting or what?

I also need to look into wedding dresses soon so I may look into that too.

Have a great weekend all!

Wedding Shoppe

I was looking online at a recommended bridal store, The Wedding Shoppe. Isn't that quaint? They spell it the old English way with the "e" on the end. Cute, right? Then I noticed it's located in Spread Eagle Village.

Say what? Does anyone else find something wrong with that? I mean if I was looking for a porn shop, Spread Eagle Village might be the first place I go. But for bridal dress? How do they expect to be taken seriously?

Song of the Day

Because it's stuck in my head is "Don't Cha" by the Pussycat Dolls. I know, I know, I'm disappointed too.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

Stop the Insanity

You know your fiance is out of control when you come home and he's sketched out a drawing of what the wedding cake should look like.

Why am I thinking most brides don't have this problem?


There are reports that small bombs went off in a station in London again. But that doesn't explain what I saw this morning in Philadelphia.


Walking down the street this morning, I was greeted by fire trucks, ambulances, police cars and transit police cars, with sirens blaring, all coming to a screeching halt at the corner of Broad and Walnut streets. All of the emergency personnel began running into all 4 entrances to the subway at that corner.

My heart stopped beating.

It's a drill, right? Or some minor incident, right? I mean a small fire or someone having a heart attack.

I'm searching news channels for answers.....

Wednesday, July 20, 2005


Thanks to my friend Christy, who updated my on the latest Jude Law developments while I was away. While this man may be attractive, I've despised him since he left his wife, who was suffering from post-pardum depression, and their 4 children. Adding insult to injury was his relationship with Sienna Miller, a relationship which irked me because the press embraced them as such a charming couple, completely ignoring the fact that he was a louse who abandoned his sick wife.

I always wonder about these women who jump into relationships with celebrities who are recently separated or divorced. This is what happens, Sienna. This is what happens.

I'm also particularly disturbed by the nanny's account of the situation. I mean who takes kids to a Robert Plant concert anyway?


Around this time yesterday, I was desperately wishing I had access to a computer. I felt the need to post about my experiences over the last few days while I was still in the moment. I knew if I waited until today, the experiences, or rather the feelings, wouldn't be as defined and therefore would be harder to describe. Alas, I had no access to a computer and therefore you're getting a watered-down version of my time in the midwest.

I met some great people. People who would be my friends under different circumstances, those circumstances being that we lived anywhere near each other. Conferences for me always go the same way: I start out being a little freaked out by the cult-like nature of the group and by the end am a fully vested member of the insanity. This was no different. The first night I felt lonely and out of place and wanted to go home. By yesterday afternoon I had a odd desire to never leave.

The thing about the people in my profession is, we like to drink. Well, except for one guy in our little group who is Baptist and doesn't drink. Or curse. Surprisingly, he fit in despite these deficiencies. The bottom line was that at the end of each day, after maxing out on new information, we would find ourselves having a good time at a local watering hole. And considering we have to, in part, socialize for a living, we all hung out until the wee hours of the morning.

The conference had a little thing where you could purchase bracelets (think "Livestrong" types) for someone else at the conference who you believed in. You would tack a note with some crappy sap written about it on a board about someone and that someone could take the card and get one of these bracelets. Well, because alot of the same people go to this conference every year (and are members of the organizational cult), some people were wearing like 8 bracelets by the end of Day 1. Gag me with a fork. I always thought those plastic bracelets were a bit ridiculous, even the Lance Armstrong ones. Well, maybe those were okay, but now you can get those bracelets for any or no cause at all.

But don't you know that I wanted a blue bracelet from the conference? I wanted someone to "believe" in me. Even though I didn't really know anyone there. Well, by the third day I had a new set of friends and walked off with 3 bracelets. You would have thought I won the lottery.

As I was getting ready to go to the airport, I looked in the mirror in my hotel room. I was wearing my new Marquette University t-shirt, cargo pants and had my hair in a ponytail. And I was wearing 3 blue rubber bracelets. I'd like to think that if you saw my on the street, you would have mistaken me for a college student.

And then I didn't want to leave. Not because I didn't want to go home. It's just that these conferences, for me at least, awaken my potential. The potential to be and to do more is actually palatable. You can feel and taste it, it's so real. I didn't want lose that and it's easy to do in your daily routine. The routine I was going back for a moment, I didn't want to go back. I love the field I'm in, sometimes I forget that because I may not love my particular job. But the potential to be great in this field in there. For a moment I wanted to take all my new friends and put them in my pocket and go somewhere where we could work together, inspire each other and others. It would be a great, great thing.

When Ron picked me up from the airport, one of the first things he asked was "What's up with the bracelets?" There's no sense trying to explain it to someone outside the field. I'm still wearing them today, even though if anyone at My Institution sees them, they'll think I'm nuts.

I know the bracelets are silly. But I want to believe in my potential just a little bit longer.


Last weekend I ran into my fair share of freaks. Friday night I made the mistake of trying to pop into a bookstore to purchase a book for my trip. I thought it would take all of 10 minutes. WHAT A MISTAKE. I forgot about the whole Harry Potter thing and was temporarily confused by the mob scene at that store. Complete with weird glasses and painted faces. Now, now, now, I support all you Harry Potter fans, but let's face it: it's a bit cult-like. And weird.

Speaking of weird, I arrived in Milwaukee on Saturday and went to a conference opening reception that night. I love my profession, but WOW are we a strange bunch. Completely dorky. If you take a bunch of us and throw in a fancy setting with some alcohol, watch out. It's like Geeks of The World Unite.

I came returned to my hotel room that night deperately hoping that my rest of my weekend would be freak-free.

Friday, July 15, 2005

These Boots

I can't even begin to tell you how much Jessica Simpson's video for "These Boots are Made for Walking" disturbs me. And I really like Jessica Simpson.

First, there's the fake tan. Jessica, lay off the spray tanner! I'm begging you. They did that contouring thing to define her muscles, but all it did is make her look dirty. I have the uncontrollable urge to take a shower whenever I see that video.

Second, what's up with the eye make-up? Hello, racoon-eyes. Not a good look for you, sweetie. Particularly when you already look like you need a bath.

Lastly, the car wash scenes. Now, I can get behind Jessica wearing the daisy duke shorts and the crop-top and the boots--I mean the song is "These Boots are Made for Walking" after all. But washing the General Lee down in bikini? What does that have to do with anything? It looks like something out of a bad '80s heavy metal video. Why, Jessica, why?

The whole thing is comes off as Jessica trying to hard to be sexy. It's kind of sad. Honey, you're already sexy, you don't need to try so hard.

Thursday, July 14, 2005


So glad this site keep on getting hits for "my wife likes it up the ass".

It Happens Sometimes

People are all outraged over this. Is it tragic? Of course. That poor mother--I can't even imagine what it would be like to lose a child.

But to blame the police? Their bullet did kill that little girl. It's only the second time in 40 years that a hostage has been accidently killed by police. In L.A. That's actually not too bad.

There may be times when police abuse their power. This wasn't one of them. They put their lives on the line, particularly in places like L.A., everyday. They have the right to defend themselves. They have the right to do their job. Do you think the officers involved in this incident feel good about the outcome? Of course not. Some will go for counseling. They're beating themselves up, trying to figure out how they could have done better. But they were shot at 40 times over the course of hours by a maniac threatening the life of that baby before they returned fire.

No one likes this outcome. But it happens sometimes. I'm sure my opinion here is not a popular one. But I'm biased. My dad's a cop.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005


This t-shirt is great.

The War Has Begun

Last night I was pouring myself a glass of water before heading to the gym when I saw the trademark of my nemesis. Right there on my counter. In my home. I knew this was a decree of war. I bent over to more closely examine what I had mistakenly for a split second mistakenly took as two black pieces of fuzz. Sure enough, it was the mark of my nemesis. It had been over a year since their last attack. I needed definitive proof, though. I picked up the sealed Ziploc bag of granola on the counter and sure enough, there was hole gnawed straight through.


Apparently, they also enjoyed breaking open and eating the mouse poison, as it was all over the kitchen floor.

War is over. I win.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

I Hate This Time Of Year

All the stores are converting to their fall wardrobes. It makes me sad, like they're rushing for summer to be over. I mean it's not like I have to go back to school or anything and truth be told I love fall clothes, but still it makes me wistful. For summer to stay forever.

We'll All Be Dead Soon

This is the text of the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, delivered on June 12, 2005 at Standford University.

I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal.

Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.
And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5ยข deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:
Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky - I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation - the Macintosh - a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.
I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me - I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.
I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I retuned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything - all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:
No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much.

Monday, July 11, 2005

Savings, Schmavings

So I never realized how much I would miss my disposable income. Or how much of it I really disposed of. Putting it all into a savings account totally sucks. Spending it on that cute little black skirt or yet another pair of black shoes or fancy cocktails with slices of fruit in them is much more fun.

The power to buy things whenever I want has totally spoiled me. What scares me really are those three little words: joint checking account. I can't even fathom it. Well, I should say I can't fathom it now. Once my little doctor man is making the big bucks, I'm sure I'll have no problem with a joint account.

Weekend Recap

What a glorious weekend. We went down to Maryland and the weather was just beautiful. Warm, but not too hot and not humid. We spent Saturday out on the boat sailing and swimming in the bay. Not much beats a day of drinking adult beverages, diving off the side of a boat.

We barbequed that night and watched "The Incredibles" which was not so incredible. I mean it was cute, but not as fabulous as I had heard. And that's not even me being my usual cynical self. I loved "Finding Nemo." But "The Incredibles"? Eh.

This weekend I'm off to scenic Milwaukee for a conference into next week. Last year the same conference was in Las Vegas, the year before it was in San Diego. Obviously, I didn't pick an ideal year to go, but what the hell? It'll be some days out of the office which even I can appreciate, although I usually enjoy conferences about as much as Chinese water torture.

Friday, July 08, 2005

By the Way, I Wasn't Just Hearing Things

here and here


I totally do not understand why none of the wedding etiquette or planning books I have contain a chapter entitled "How to Deal with That Lunatic who Claims She's Your Mother."

Thursday, July 07, 2005

The Reaction

My heart goes out to those in London. Nearly four years ago, I was anxiously awaiting news that my brother, who works in Manhattan, was okay. I sympathize. It's just awful.

But my first reaction, my gut reaction, is anger. I can't seem to help that. I turned on CNN this morning and thought, "These fucking shitheads are at it again?" That doesn't mean I'm not also sad or that my heart doesn't go out to those directly affected. But it doesn't necessarily diminish my anger. It was the same way after September 11th. On that day I was sad, horrified, afraid, sympathetic and broken-hearted all at once. I felt all those things when I thought about what happened--I still can't look at pictures from that day without tearing up. But whenever I think of those who actually caused that, my anger left me tongue-tied. I don't hate those people though, I feel profoundly sorry for them.

I know that my anger helps no one, except me. I embrace my anger as the reaction I have, as my way of dealing.

Good Over Evil

Dear Terrorists,

I have no sympathy for you or your cause. I take comfort in the fact that at the end of each of your lives, you will not meet Allah, or any version of God for that matter. I take comfort in the fact that you will spend eternity in the throes of the kind of torture you inflicted on others. I take comfort in the fact that throughout the history of the world, good has always triumphed over evil.

Go to hell,

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Philadelphia Freedom or Why Kanye's an Idiot

I was wrong.

Live 8 wasn't the end of the world. We went in the afternoon for a few hours and hung out on the circle. It was crowded, but not insanely crowded. People were rowdy, but not overly rowdy. The only thing as far as I could tell that were destroyed were the porto-potties, because people insisted on sitting on top of them. We were fairly close to the front of the crowd, so we didn't see much by the way of educating people about the Long Walk to Justice. Although, I hear if you were further back, there were stands set up with information.

I saw Dave Matthews, Linkin Park and Jay-Z, Def Leppard, Jars of Clay, and some dude we didn't know. I missed Jovi, Sarah and Maroon 5, which didn't make me happy, but Ron had to work later than expected. I also missed Kanye West, WHICH WAS JUST FINE BECAUSE HE'S AN IDIOT. I saw him interviewed on MTV by MC Lyte, an interview that will not be replayed no doubt, because in it he states that he wanted to perform at Live 8 to make up for injustices in the world. Because, according to my man Kanye, HIV is a disease invented by the white man and planted in Africa to wipe out all the Africans. Oh, and crack was introduced to urban settings to kill African Americans, particularly those of the Black Panther party. I swear, I do not lie, he said all this. I mean, these are all rumors that I've heard before too, but I've dismissed them as just that: rumors. I certainly wouldn't be dumb enough to be repeating them as fact on TV. WHATEVER, KANYE. I'm desperately looking for some mention of the interview online, but I doubt I'll find it. I'll post a link if I do.

ANYWAY, we met up with a group of friends and after a couple of hours of the concert, we made our way to the Fairmont bars. They were, of course, packed. Outside the London Grille, there were table and chairs set up and a stand selling cans of beer. In order to buy a 12 pack, they would give you a ticket and a black plastic bag and you would go down the street to present your ticket to a guy in a truck who would, in turn, give you a 12 pack of Bud, or some equally crappy beer. Sounds legit, right? We spent the rest of the afternoon drinking cans of beer at a table in the middle of the street. The cops were about 50 yards away and couldn't have cared less.

All was good in the world.

Sunday we hung out with Ron's parents and we went to see Elton John play on the 4th of July. He got a late start, but was worth the wait. He played "The Bitch is Back", "Tiny Dancer", "Rocket Man", "I Guess that's Why They Call It the Blues" (my favorite Elton John song, by the way), and "Philadelphia Freedom". The fireworks were great, but didn't end until nearly 11:30pm.

I hate to admit it, but Philadelphia did a really good job this weekend.

Friday, July 01, 2005

Being Bipolar

I'm reasonably sure I'm not bipolar, but these days give me cause to doubt that belief. Perhaps I'm not taking enough vitamins.

Earlier this week, Ron and I, after MUCH debated, decided : we were getting married in New Jersey. We found a site we loved, wrangled through the Church's requirements and were finally decided. Since the middle of June, we tossed around the pros and cons to NJ vs. Philly. And there are pros and cons to both. Travel, incovenience, price, family all went into the decision-making process. I AGONIZED over this decision. Finally, Ron looked at me and asked, "All other things aside, which reception site do you like better?" I answered with NJ. He said, "Done, decision is made. Roll with it." In that moment, that's exactly what I needed. He understands my neurosis like that. Even though it's about a billion times more inconvenient for us, especially him and his family to have the wedding in NJ, he was up for it. I love this man. I happily mailed a check off to the NJ church and based planning on the NJ site.

Then the Philly site we like called and essentially matched the pricing of the NJ location. Oh and all these hotel points that would essentially give us a hotel room for our honeymoon for free. That combined with the convenience of having a wedding around the corner from where we live, the convenience for his family, etc. I'm now torn again. Should I have this thing in Philly?

The thing is, if I do, it's less likely that my family will feel like a part of it. I'm in no short supply of people telling me that this is all about me and Ron and we should do whatever we want. But weddings are about families too. And I'm worried about mine. So now I feel like I'm back to square one. Which means I should call my mother.


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