The Luckiest
When I was younger, I didn't think I'd get married. I have always been a serial dater, with one long term relationship after the other. While everything would start out okay, two or three years down the road I'd realize the person I was dating was not for me anymore. And I would think, what if I got married and a year later, realized this wasn't the right person. I used to think I'd have to date someone for like 7 years before I'd be sure.
I also used to think that true love would be an all-consuming thing. I loved the idea of the drama of it, the magic of it. Think "Bridges of Madison County" or the movie "Titanic". I love any book or movie that involves slightly torturous love. I wanted poetry and yearning and all that good stuff. I've had that in past relationships, the drama, the magic, the all-consuming stuff. And you know what? It doesn't make good for the long haul. I've had the magic and I've found that it doesn't translate well to everyday real life.
I met Ron when I wasn't looking for anything, or maybe when I was looking for the exact opposite of him. He didn't look or seem like the man of my dreams. We started slowly, for months not even acknowledge to anyone, not even ourselves or each other, that we were dating. Well, probably because it wasn't really dating, unless dating only on Friday nights after 2a.m. counts.
And then it happened. I don't know when. I remember the first time we talked about getting married. It was at the Chaddsford winery and we were listening to some jazz outside, enjoying a bottle of wine. It was a beautiful day. Anyway, sometime before that, he and I must had looked at each other and realized: this is it. It wasn't complicated. He's not complicated and his love isn't complicated.
And so falling in love for the last time wasn't at all what I thought it would be. It was simple and understated, but somehow, I knew it was final. I never thought about 2 or 5 or 10 years down the road. I just knew he would be there, and somehow, he knew the same about me. It's like we didn't have to even think about it. He is nothing like what I would have imagined but it works. That doesn't sound terribly romantic probably. But I think when you find a person who you want to spend the rest of your life with, well, that is romantic. There won't be poems, or flowers, or anything like that. What I'm getting, though, is the best person I have ever known, the brightest star I have ever seen. I aspire to be more like him and I love him tremendously.
I hope all of you have all that in your lives too.
I'm getting married tomorrow. And I'm going to try not to cry when I think of all the people coming to see us and hear us say "I do".
Travestry
Is that even spelled right? It doesn't look right.
Anyway, those of you who know me in real life know that I let the stress of wedding planning get to me for a couple of days there. I'm back now and I'm sane. Breathing normally, really. The thing about me is I can never stay stressed about one thing for very long. I get bored of worrying about it and move on. By mid-yesterday, I was over the fact that we had to re-plan a honeymoon and re-schedule a rehearsal dinner. It's done.
But here is the real tragedy is that Strawbridge's in Center City is closing June 1st. They'll be selling the building to whoever wants to buy it. My guess is that it might get converted to condos. Maybe not, though, because it's connected to the Gallery. So it'll probably become a super-sized Marshall's or something.
Then Lord & Taylor, the mecca of all my shoe-shopping experiences, is closing June 1st as well and will re-open in August as a Macy's. I have nothing against Macy's. I rather like Macy's. But it means there will only be one major department store in the city. And between June and August, there will be NO department stores in the city. Where on earth am I going to buy my summer shoes? How am I supposed to live like this?
Why would you close both stores at the same time? Idiots. And what I thought they would do is keep the Lord & Taylor's and then switch the Strawbridge's to a Macy's. That would have rocked. I'm so displeased. I hope they get rid of that Christmas light show though. I've never understood that light show.
Speaking of the need to shop, I have no idea what I'm packing for this honeymoon!
Officially?
If you're a real person with real problems, you may want to tune out. Because this post is full of self-absorbed, fake, self-induced "problems".
Officially, I'm sick of this wedding. It's ridiculous. I'm sick of thinking about it all the time. It frustrates me that I've become that girl who only thinks about her wedding. I'm sick of hot gluing little bows on things. I'm sick on re-checking entrees for the 48th time. I'm sick of making lists. I'm sick of the constant feeling that I have like I'm forgetting something. Today I have butterflies in my stomach. I have no idea why. But if it continues for the next 5 days, I'm in trouble.
I've scaled back my work outs. Both because I don't have time and because I need to keep my weight up. I have, let's say, a nervous stomach and if I'm really stressed, I just lose weight. So I'm scaling back on the gym and I'm eating carbs like they're going out of style.
Don't get me wrong: I'm excited for the actual day. It'll be great. Doves will sing and the sun will shine. Okay, maybe not, but I'm sure I'll be beaming. It's just getting to the actual day that's driving me nuts.
Hot for Jeter
I know, I know. I've been neglecting you. Not many posts and not very interesting posts at that. I'm sorry. Come back and see me in April.
In the meantime, here's this little nugget.
There's two things you need to know about my grandmother. First is that she always read the newspaper and cut articles out that either she was interested in or that she thought someone else would be interested in. She had always done this. I've seen pictures cut out of newspapers from 1972 which feature some model wearing the wedding dress that my mother wore. She had cut it out to show people at the time. When I was looking at colleges, she would cut out any articles on colleges and give them to me. Most recently, when I got engaged, she cut out a picture of Regis Philbin and his daughter on her wedding day to show me her dress, which my grandmother thought was very fashionable.
The other thing about my grandmother is that she loves
Derek Jeter. We're not sure why, but she's always thought he was cute and a "nice man". She called Mariah Carey a slut when she was dating Jeter. It's all a little weird. My grandmother could go on and on about this guy. Even so, we were all surprised when we visited her in the nursing home and one of the nurses saw my grandmother and asked if she had seen Derek Jeter lately. We all exchanged glances, realizing that my grandmother may not remember that it's not 1921 anymore, but she does remember and is telling nurses about Derek Jeter. Why? Why did that information stay in her brain, the memory of Derek Jeter stay when she regularly forgets who my brother is? Weird right?
Not as weird as when my parents cleaned out her house and found an entire dresser drawer stuffed to the max with hundreds, if not thousands, of pictures of Derek Jeter cut out from newspapers.
Oscars
I don't know if I'll have time to watch the Oscars since we'll be trekking to my parents' house to retrieve the elusive prayer book. But I just have to say: GO BROKEBACK!
In other news, my bridesmaids, several friends and a couple of soon-to-be relatives went for drinks and dinner last night. Even though the wait at the Midtown Continental was over 2 hours long, we all had fun.
One of the things, one of the only things really, that I really love about wedding planning is that so many of my friends and family members have gotten to meet and know one another. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling.
Makes Me Proud
Mutilated
I wish you could see my left hand right now. About 4 weeks ago, I slammed my fingers in a drawer and there's still splotchy redness of my ring finger on my left hand. I scar easily, so I'm sure that splotch is there to stay. In addition I have not one but two papercuts on that finger as well. In addition to those, I have three other random cuts on my left hand. It looks like I've taken to cutting and have chosen the hand that will be photographed in two weeks as the place to do it.
Not a single papercut on my right hand. I need to start wearing gloves as work.
Song of the Day
Because it's stuck in my head is "Over My Head (Cable Car)" by
The Fray.
