Tomorrow Is Another Day...

A Little Wedding Chat

I've always tried to keep my wedding discussions to a minimum here, because I do realize that while it is just about the most fascinating event in the world to me, topped only by Lindsay Lohan's constant flirtations with the dark side of the law, it probably isn't anyone else's idea of scintillating discussion.  However, you may have noticed that there has been just about zero wedding chat since March, and that's because I've done just about zero planning for the wedding since March.  Basically, between the move across the country, various home improvement projects, and just enjoying existence in the same time zone as my fiance from time to time, the wedding just hasn't been at the forefront of my mind.  I kept thinking of things that I needed to do and writing them down in a list of "Stuff to Do At Some Point", but I had just burned myself out on wedding planning.  Luckily, we had booked all of our big vendors very early in the game, but unluckily that meant that things that didn't seem so important 5 months ago suddenly seem AWFULLY important with less than four months to go until the big day.  And wow, haven't these past 5 months flown?  And oh my God, wait, seriously?  Four months?!?!

It was actually on July 24, exactly at the four month point, that I kicked myself back into high gear, and since then I have been checking things off the list left and right.  And while I'm riding the high of diminishing checklists, I just feel like sharing my joy with the world, so feel free to click "next blog" on your reader, I'll understand!

One of the stupid little details that was so important to me was having a black limousine as opposed to white.  Not a big deal you would think, right?  I mean, when I picture a limousine I picture a long shiny black town car with Mr. Big rolling down the window and popping a bottle of champagne, you know?  Well, apparently in Baton Rouge, it's a white limousine or no limousine, because that's how we roll.  We're klassy down south.  Fortunately, our tux shop has a lot of knowledge about different limo places and a lot of extra time on their hands and they were finally able to hunt down a black one for us so we booked it on Friday.  I forgot to ask whether Big and the champagne were included in our final cost.

The wedding invitation list is finished except for a few addresses from Colby's mom, and my mother will be addressing invites so that we can get them out by the end of September.  I've found candles for our guests to hold during the unity candle lighting, red rose disposable cameras for the tables, drink recipes for my "Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, and Something Blue" martini bar, and I even got generous and added one last gift to my bridesmaids gift packages--I can't link to it since they read here every now and then, but oh my heck, is it cute!  This morning, after putting it off and moaning to myself about it for the longest time, the first draft of our program is done.  When it's finished it should look something like the one below, but with a red backing and ivory paper--also, a lot fewer layers, we aren't quite as longwinded as this chick was.

All that's left is to add in our music selections, which we'll choose and send to our musicians when Colby gets home, and then do final proofing to make sure everything lines up properly along the bottom and everyone's name is spelled properly--we don't need any lifelong feuds based on a sloppily edited wedding program.  I contacted both family members who (Whom? Devil if I know...) we have asked to sing and play the guitar during the ceremony, and updated them on our song choice.  We picked the photo for our engagement announcements to send to our hometown newspapers, and now I just need to get it printed and in the mail.  (I know, I know, five months later--better late than never?)  I put together the invite list for my bridesmaid luncheon, compiled a spreadsheet detailing all of our expenses so far, what we still owe, due dates, and gratuity information, and I've started a detailed schedule for the Friday and Saturday of the wedding that will be updated as I get more information closer to the date.  And finally, I've uploaded a bunch of photos to WalMart.com so that they can print them, mail them to me, and I can get started on our scrapbook/guestbook and have that finished by October, my own personal due date.  Thanks WalMart.com, you rock.  Except I just realized that I'm out of dog food, so I have to actually leave the safe cocoon of my house and go to your dang store anyway.

So, now that I've had this fiery burst of organizational and planning energy, I think it's safe to back off for the next month or so while Colby is in town, and commence with the frenzy once more in September.  You know, it wasn't all that long ago that I thought I wanted to be a wedding planner, but honestly, at this point, I can't imagine giving a crap about all of this stuff anymore if it wasn't for my own wedding.  I'd be like, look girl, haven't we been doing this for like, 9 months now?  Damn, I could get knocked up and have a baby in a shorter amount of time than it takes for you to get married!  Sorry future brides of the world, I fear you'll just have to go it alone without the benefit of my spreadsheet and checklist manias--somehow, I think you will survive.

This Thing We Call "Writing"

I've been thinking a lot lately about what I mean when I say, "I want to be a writer".  Because, you see, I say that as though I'm not already a writer, but in a sense, aren't we all writers?  When we put pen to paper, or more often in this day and age, put fingers to the keyboard, aren't we writing?  Whether it's a letter, a diary entry, an essay, a fiction piece, a poem, almost all of us have been "writers" at some point in our lives.  So, there must be something beyond simply "writing" that I'm dreaming about.

I had an opportunity to write at a fantastic finance website, Wisebread, a site that I still read from time to time today.  I wrote there for a few weeks and while at first the excitement of writing in an official capacity was enough to keep my interest, eventually it just became work, and not enjoyable work.  Coming up with another way to save money, typing up my entry, editing, finding an appropriate header image... it wasn't what I wanted to be writing.  When I was in college, I thought what I really wanted in the Air Force was to be a Public Affairs officer, to write for a living.  I was disappointed at the time when I was selected as a Personnel officer, but I know now, in retrospect that I would have been miserable in any kind of journalistic capacity.  Covering base current events and Air Force policies would have been as dull as dishwater and again, not what I wanted to be writing.

I write on this blog on various topics, all of them things that I care about or find interesting or entertaining in some way.  I control the frequency of my writing and the subject matter, and even after almost two years of tapping away at the keyboard I still find my blog extremely rewarding.  And yet, I haven't felt the kind of credibility from this that would allow me to call myself a writer--probably because when I blog I'm not carefully crafting entries, I'm not mulling over word choices, I'm not writing with a purpose in mind, I'm just writing what I feel, when I feel it, in whatever words tumble out of my brain and onto the page.

Writing, and the satisfaction that can come from it, is defined differently by everyone.  If when you put words on a page, and feel satisfaction from what you've written, then I suppose, to me, that is "writing".  For some, blogging is their art, and they do it beautifully.  For some, it's journalism, and for some it's poetry.  When I wrote my essays for Girls at War, I felt like a writer, when I came up with an idea for a novel and started writing, I felt like a writer, and when I received my first acceptance email stating that one of my short stories had been selected for publication, that was the moment I felt that I could say that I was a writer.  I've started sketching an outline for another novel that may actually even get finished some day, a skeleton of a story that's been swirling in my head for months now, and it excites me that I am once again creating characters, situations, back stories, romantic entanglements, friendships, and emotions.  Now I know that for me, writing is telling a story of my own making. 

It seems obvious, but it was truly bothering me that for so long I've had this aspiration, and yet I never knew exactly what I wanted.  I've always known that storytelling was what I enjoyed best, but there are so many amazing storytellers already in the world that it seemed daunting and naive to expect that I could ever count myself amongst them, even in the smallest capacity.  But now, knowing that it's what I want to do, and having been accepted once, I think I finally have the courage that I needed to break down my reservations about ever trying.  And even if it never happens for me, even if I get nothing but rejections from every agent and publisher I ever query, at least I'll know that I've tried for what I really wanted and found fulfillment and enjoyment in the process.

"And the world will be better for this
That one man, scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star."
~From my most recent musical obsession, Man of La Mancha

Adjusting

I am really having trouble finding something to read to pull me out of the Harry Potter finale slump.  For so many years I've finished a book about Harry's adventures and immediately started looking forward to the next installment, now what?  As much as I have problems with the sloppy editing (compared to the previous books in the series) in Deathly Hallows, I still enjoyed reading it so much and I'm so sad that there's no more Harry to look forward to.  In an attempt to pick myself up I've gone back to another one of my favorite books, The Historian, and I've heard from a couple of people that The Memory Keepers Daughter is a great read, so maybe with a little time, my heart will heal!

The time is also drawing near for Colby to return after a five week absence which follows a previous nearly two months of hardly seeing each other.  To add to that, my parents were here in most of the days he was home leading up to his departure, and now his parents will be here in the days following his return home.  I love hanging out with family, and it's fun to play hostess and spend time with our loved ones, but I'm just praying that he'll be home for at least the majority of August so that we can have some quality time together at long last.  Especially considering the fact that we have two weddings to attend, for which I have two fabulous dresses already set aside, and the amazingly wonderful Lori is putting together a little shower for us at the end of the month.

I knew that it wasn't going to be easy dealing with all of the time that Colby is gone, and luckily I'm a fairly independent person who very much enjoys the pleasure of my own company, but it does get wearying when weeks and weeks pass with only the phone calls.  Even the training provided by a four year long distance relationship doesn't make it any easier to not have him with me in the place that we can both finally call home. Honestly, I don't know how spouses do it when their wives or husbands are gone for 12-18 months or longer.  How do you maintain a relationship that way?  After four months apart it's strange and complicated enough to see each other again and fall back into a comfortable routine.

To make myself feel better I've tried to come up with a list of the positives about being by myself from time to time.  It doesn't make up for the fact that Colby isn't here, but it does make everything feel a little less negative.

1) I don't have to feel guilty about not cooking dinner, and can eat my prepackaged Nutrisystem meals whenever I darn well please!

2) There is a LOT less laundry, and I can do it less frequently since his humongous clothes don't have the hamper overflowing every few days.

3) He likes to untuck the flat sheet from the end of the mattress so his feet don't get flattened.  Understandable, I suppose, but I HATE not having my sheets perfectly tucked and in their place.  It's nice to only have to tug a little on the sheets to make the bed in the morning instead of having to completely remake it every day.

4) There's no worry that I'll be judged for all of the packages that arrive on our doorstep due to my late night online shopping adventures!

And, um, really that's about it.  It's not much, but it's just a few little things that keep my spirits up until he's back and we can get back to our usual routines, untucked sheets and endless laundry cycles included!

Deathly Hallows... The End of An Era

MINOR SPOILERS IN THE POST AND DEFINITELY DON'T READ THE COMMENTS IF YOU DON'T WANT DETAILS!!!

Well, after an afternoon and evening of reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, my adventures with Harry, Ron, and Hermione have come to an end.  Neither my sister nor Colby have read the book yet, and as they're the people in "real life" with whom I discuss my theories with most often I'm turning desperately to the interweb, curious about what everyone thought about it.  It seems as though there are two camps, love it or hate it.  I  loved it at first glance, however, after reading a number of the hard core fan's critiques I've realized that there are still a number of unanswered questions and things we were promised that didn't come to fruition in the Deathly Hallows.

There were quite a few a-ha moments, but there were also a number of times that I found myself a bit disappointed particularly the way that some characters exits were handled.  So, what did you think?  Let's discuss, shall we?  My more detailed thoughts are in the comments!

Rainy Days and Fridays

Well, the sister has departed the area, and life is back to normal around here in Chez Angela (I would include Colby in that name, but I'm not entirely convinced he actually lives here...).  Back to normal entails thinking about eating lots of yummy things and then not, going for a run except it's been raining almost non-stop since she left, and mostly just watching lots of tv.  Of course, there is also laundry to be done and carpets to be vacuumed, but that is terribly depressing to think about.

However, the visit was wunderbar, and we only have to get through August before we're once again back in each other's loving arms under the romantic bright lights of the Big Apple.  Canada was lovely, we visited the Vancouver Zoo, saw Grease at the Theater Under the Stars, and ate at The Elbow Room at the Becky's recommendation.   Traveling across the border was interesting--in fact the entire Canadian experience was a bit... well... Canadian--like bizarro America.  When I drove up with Colby about a year ago, passports weren't required yet and I think there was overall a much more relaxed feeling to the crossing.  I mean, not so much that we decided to follow through about not carrying anything across the border except for the cocaine in the trunk, but you know, not totally intimidating.  This time we were asked a number of bizarre questions which were then followed up by the guard waxing poetic on the Sky Train before he stopped himself abruptly and waved us through.  I think, for just a minute, he forgot what it was he was supposed to be doing.  But that did certainly explain the 40 minute wait we had.

Then there was the zoo--I have never been to a zoo where I have seen so few animals.  In America we're used to strolling past long rows of cages with a number of fairly miserable looking animals behind each set of bars and then leaving with a sense of accomplishment that we've seen our quotient of wild animals for the year.  In Vancouver the zoo was built much more for the comfort of the animals, and if you're lucky enough to actually see one good on you.  A perfect example was the 1.5 acre field for one of the bears.  I mean, the bear must be absolutely thrilled with her good fortune, but the only reason we caught a glimpse of her was because it just so happened to be feeding time when we got to her section of the zoo.  I think in our two hours of wandering we saw five or six animals and spent the rest of our time scanning seemingly empty habitats, eating at the concession stand, and trying to figure out what time it was in Canada.

Grease was really good, although when they tell you that you should pick-up your will call tickets at a tourism office downtown an hour before your eight o'clock show, it would be really great if the office didn't close at six.  I mean, it's just a teensy suggestion, but I think it makes sense.  Anyway, over-all the visit was good, but I think I've kind of had my fill of Vancouver, I think next time we head north we'll try checking out a different area of Beautiful British Columbia or Super Natural Canada (which, contrary to popular belief, does not mean that Canada is chock full of ghoulies and ghosties, they just really like Tevas and Priuses).

The highlight of the rest of her visit was seeing Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix in 3-D at the IMAX in Seattle.  I'm not sure if I can ever go back to seeing a Harry Potter on a regular sized screen.  The 3-D in the end should have been incredible, and parts of it certainly were, but the images were a little blurry and I spent the 20 minutes of effects alternately closing one eye and then the other trying to figure out if I needed my vision checked.  I'm curious about what you other Harry Potter fans out there thought of the movie?  I actually really liked it, I thought the directing was really good, Luna was perfectly cast, and I think the kids are still trying to find themselves as actors, but really improving with each film.  I just wish they could have made the movie 10 minutes longer and included more of the ministry of magic scene and the final scene where Dumbledore finally explains everything to Harry.  I feel like the battle was so rushed, and they could have done so much more with the scene without making it too much longer.  And then of course, I can't imagine why they cut so much out of Dumbledore's talk with Harry--we don't find out that Snape is the one who told Voldemort about the prophecy, we don't hear about the fact that the subject of the prophecy just as easily could have been Neville, we don't find out that Trelawney is the one who made the prophecy which goes a long way to giving her some credibility as well as explaining why Dumbledore wants so much to protect her.  With all of that being said, I'm constantly amazed at how well they do manage to stick to the books and really try to provide a faithful representation of what J.K. Rowling has written.  I can't even imagine how amazing that must be to an author to see your world come to life in such an accurate way.

As for this weekend, I'll be spending the rest of the day terrified to turn on the television or surf the web lest I run across a Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows spoiler and tomorrow I'll be checking my mail obsessively waiting for the book that I ordered months ago to finally arrive.  As excited as I am to finally sit down and spend my entire Saturday devouring the book, there's a huge part of me that is so sad that the story will be coming to an end.  I've spent so many years theorizing and wondering and waiting, and in around 36 hours it will all be over.  Ah well, that's life isn't it?  Y'all have an awesome weekend and I promise not to spoil the book for you if you don't have it finished by Sunday like I most assuredly will!

The Sweetest Thing

My sis is still here, we just got back from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix on IMAX in 3-D and I just opened the mail to find the very first payment I've ever received for a story and confirmation of publication.  What an awesome night.

Screw You Wednesday Wedding Weigh-In

I'm giving myself some time away from weighing in while I figure out what I want to do about this whole losing weight arrangement.  I'm eating really well, I exercise 4-5 times a week with 45 minutes of cardio and calisthenics, I drink my 8 cups of water a day.  Yet, I'm not losing weight.  I'm frustrated.  I don't want to quit, but I think I'm going to take some time off from the scales before I completely lose all motivation.

I mean, seriously, I weigh almost the same now that I'm eating fruits, veggies, and healthy carbs as I did when I was eating ice cream, brownies and macaroni and cheese.

Also, my sister is in town and we are going to do fun things like go eat at yummy restaurants, shop, and drive to Canada just because.  And while I'm doing that I don't want to be beating myself up over the fact that I'm not achieving my goal.

See, that's why I've never been a goal-setter, because I want to kill myself when I don't reach my goal immediately and spectacularly.

Anyway, I'm going to go have fun, keep up my exercising, and try to keep a good, positive attitude about this.  Canada or bust!  God, I need a brownie.  And a drink.

The British Invasion

'Ello everybody!!  I seem to have slipped into some kind of British universe at some point over the past few days, and now I keep finding myself saying things like "pip pip" and dropping letters all over the place.  I've thrown myself into the world of illegal online television watching and have caught up on 2 series worth of Doctor Who and am reading the 6th Harry Potter again before the next book is released in just a few more days.

I remember when I was a kid, my mom would always say that she never needed to buy new books, she would just wait a couple of years between reading the same book and it would be like she'd never read it before--all new!  I never could understand that, I have always absorbed books, loved them, remembered certain phrases and favorite character descriptions.  But Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince?  I tell you what, if I didn't know how the final climactic scene turned out, I would swear I had never read this book before.  I think I'm finally, truly leaving my spry, young girlhood behind and moving on into the beginnings of the deterioration that is growing up.  My popping hip and sore knees second that emotion.

As for Doctor Who... wow.  Just... wow.  I've heard of it my whole life, I think somewhere in the back of my mind I mixed it up with Doctor Strangelove, and just thought it was some movie about a bomb or something.  But then the BBC brought it back a few years ago, and I started hearing about it again--something about some batty time traveler who fought space aliens.  Not really my cup of tea when it comes to television viewing.  Even the fact that it was British couldn't arouse my interest, and that's usually all it really takes.

But then, a couple of weeks ago, my sister started talking about it, and then I ran across two articles about it in as many days, and then, one night when I was washing dishes, the Christmas special with Catherine Tate came on tv without any planning on my part.  Being too lazy to change the channel, I decided to give it a go, and at the end... well, I still wasn't hooked, but decided to start it over from the beginning.

And so the hunt began, scouring the interweb for quality, pirated episodes.  While most of them have been removed due to copyright claims from the BBC (so selfish, they are!!), there are still a few deep, dark, shadowy recesses of the internet where episodes lurk.  Two episodes in, and I was hooked, with no explanation.  The writing is not the best, the special effects make me laugh fairly often, you would swear that when the writers get to the end of a script and need to wrap everything up they just throw down a lot of nonsense words and explain it all as some sort of obvious alien/science knowledge that we humans just wouldn't understand.  And yet, still, despite all of this, I freaking love that show.  I do, it's true.  I'm completely emotionally invested, I really enjoy the quirkiness, the characters are fun, and I find myself wishing that the Doctor would appear in his little blue box that's bigger on the inside and take me for a (non-life threatening) jaunt around the universe.

So, there, that's what I've been up to lately.  Not terribly exciting, but I'm having a good time, and that's what really matters.  And now, I hear the TARDIS calling me back, I've been away too long and I'm starting to suffer some symptoms of withdrawal.  Cheers!

Wednesday Wedding Weigh-In

Le Sigh. It is back to this old game--what joy!  So, let's get right down to it since I have a million errands to run and of course a WILDLY entertaining social life here in Washington that includes FRILLIONS of holiday fireworks.

Starting weight: 130.2
Current weight: 126.8
Pounds Lost: 3.4
Goal weight: 115
Time left to reach goal: 20 weeks

So, really not bad considering the massive amount of food that I put away the week that my parents were in town. I took the plunge and signed up for Nutrisystem last week since it appealed to my lazy, don't want to cook self and they were running a 2 weeks free deal.  Of course, the day the big box of food arrived I also received a coupon in the mail for 4 weeks free.  Thanks Nutrisystem.

I got started on the program on Sunday, and my goal for this week is to stick to it better.  All you have to do is incorporate fruit, veggies, and dairy/extra protein into your prepackaged meals, which sounds easy, except there seems to be something of a deficit of food in this household.  And I feel fairly confident that replacing a serving of veggies with a delicious fudgy brownie is not the intent of the program nutritionists.

So, goals for this week are to actually stick to the Nutrisystem program, get in my 4 days of running, and actually do my pushups and situps. It's surprising how easy they are to forget!  Hope you all have a great Fourth of July and your house doesn't ignite from a stray firework spark!

Eight Things I Love About Me

My God, my titles are atrocious.  Anyhow, now that I've gotten that out of the way, let me fill you in on just what's going on in this magical Monday blog post.  I have been tagged by the lovely and hilarious Princess in Galoshes (Don't you just love that blog name?  She always has brilliant titles.  I wonder if she contracts out for that service??)  for the Eight Random Things About Me Meme.  From what I gather I'm supposed to tell you eight weird things about myself... you know, because I don't do that, like, every day on this website?  But enough with the procrastination, let's get started on the narcissistic self-analysis!!

1.  There is still a tiny part of me that is completely convinced that if I could ever meet Prince William, he would be completely swept away by my stunning good looks, witty sense of humor, and innate charms.  And I'm happy to report that as I will never actually meet the man, I will always be confident in my abilities to woo members of royalty.

2.  I count EVERYTHING.  This, along with my perfectionist cleaning and organization tendencies, are what lead me to believe I may have a slight case of OCD.  Of course, that is based on absolutely no research and entirely on what I took away from that Jack Nicholson movie where he's a complete asshole to Helen Hunt.  I count steps when I'm running, I count bumps on the road when I'm driving, if I'm in a waiting room I'll count squares in the floor tiles or bricks on walls outside.  It can really get to be annoying at times, because I HATE numbers, and also I tend to lose count once I get over 50, which just serves to further frustrate me because I have to start all over again.  Yes.  I HAVE to.

3.  Texture in food, more often than flavor, is a turn-off to me.  There are very few things that I dislike because of their flavor--green olives, that horrible sweet and salty popcorn, and sweet potato pie to name a few.  But textures have always had the ability to give me the heebie jeebies.  For example, I love guacamole, but avocados squick me out completely.  I'm fine with the creamy texture of a dip, but it just seems terribly wrong in a vegetable.  Similarly, a delicious cheesy, buttery grits casserole sounds utterly appealing, but a big mound of them swimming around on my plate like little bits of sand in a congealed liquid disgusts me to no end.

4.  At some point in my life, I got it into my head that if you are not a genius at something right off the bat, it must not be "meant" for you.  I think it all goes back to a number of books I read in my youth where the child in the book tries their hand at certain talents and is brilliant with absolutely no training--piano, writing, singing, math, whatever.  Even in my adulthood it's something I still struggle with, and I think the reason it took me so long to send anything I've written out for judgment.

5.  Birds TERRIFY me.  I blame Alfred Hitchcock entirely.  I have nightmares where my eyes are being plucked out and my hair is all tangled with birds, and in real life I cringe at the thought of aviaries or wildlife habitats.  Baby birds are okay though, I have no unfounded fear of little fuzzy yellow chicks or gaping mouthed grey-feathered birdlets.

6.  Sometimes I think I really am addicted to chocolate like other people are addicted to cigarettes, or alcohol, or drugs.  And that kind of scares me.

7.  I haven't got a CLUE about music from the Top 40 stations between the years of 1982 and 1995.  Growing up I always listened to the stations my parents listened to which were either adult contemporary or Your Favorite Hits From the 60's, 70's, and 80's!!  All of my personal tapes were either Disney soundtracks or Glenn Miller--both of which I still love to this day.  I had one New Kids on the Block tape, and I really don't remember ever listening to it.  I do remember a friend once asking me what my favorite song was, so she could add it to her Bat Mitzvah playlist and I couldn't think of ANYTHING.  So, instead of telling her, you know, the truth: that my favorite song was "Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog", I told her I didn't HAVE a favorite song.  Yeah.  Right.  And to this day when anyone starts talking about Tupac or TLC I just kind of smile blankly.  But I'd be glad to have a discussion about "String of Pearls" or "Little Brown Jug"!

8.  I'm obsessed with online shopping.  Sure, I love going out to the stores and boutiques as much as the next girl, but I feel so much more comfortable in the online world.  I love to search endlessly for coupon codes, hunt different websites for the best deals, I get little thrills of excitement when the doorbell rings and a box is on my doorstep, and I love trying clothes on in the comfort of my own home with my own mirrors and lighting.  It's often difficult to  find my size in the store, for some reason places don't like to stock XS in the tops and the 4s and 6s are always gone with 14 million 14s and 16s left on the racks, but on the internet, all I have to do is click my size and price range and everything is right there for me to sort through.  It's truly the antisocial shopping heaven!