Wednesday, April 26, 2006

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am a WIFE!

I love it.

Can't believe it's true. It was such a buildup to it, with the planning, the stress, the anxiety about having so much to do and afraid it wouldn't all get done. But it was perfect. Absolutely perfect. My friends and family are amazing. The pictures are unbelievable. I have never felt more beautiful, more loved and more in love than that day.

Until the day our child is born years down the road, this will be the ultimate in perfect days. There is nothing to compare with standing in front of all you love, professing your love for someone and having it all come right back at you. I didn't want to cry, but the first line of my vows I couldn't help it, and from what I heard, it was the moment when everyone else in the audience cried as well. Steve was SO close, I could see the tears getting ready to start, but he kept it in.

We didn't know what the other wrote for vows until the ceremony, and it was so funny that they were almost exactly the same. Some lines were almost word for word what the other wrote.

I seriously couldn't have asked for a better day whatsoever.

Monday, April 17, 2006

Evil

I just got off the phone with Evil.

Fuck you for not ever accepting me for who I was and am, unless it fit what you wanted. Fuck you for thinking that now, now that I'm living the life YOU want me to live, that you can be a part of it. You would rather me have been dying that accept who I loved for almost a decade, and now that I have a "husband to be" you actually call, you actually ASK me how my life is, how my significant other is. You couldn't have given two shits for the last ten years of my life, bribing me with money to be a "good girl" and trying all you could to try to change me. No one else tried to change me. He loved me for who and what I was. THAT was love. And you can sit there on the phone, bitching about "foreigner" doctors and tell me that you have never seen anyone love a grandchild the way he loved me. And he did. He was my world, making up for the fact that all you ever fucking wanted was a show pony. You wanted the perfect little creature that you could parade around in front of those pretending to be your friends. Now you are concerned about me, making sure that I fit all those stereotypical roles women are supposed to be. "Make sure you cook for him." "Make sure you treat him right or else I'll be up there defending him." FUCK YOU! You NEVER defended me to anyone. You never did. You said, to my funny-nasty response to that, "Well, your pap was always in your corner, so I figure Steve needs me in his." No thank you. We don't need you in our corner. We don't need you in our lives. All you bring is misery, pain and anguish to all you know. Your lies, deceit and inability to love have all shoved everyone from you now. But NOW, NOW I'm who you want me to be, and the sick thing is, you think it was because of YOU. YOU want to take the credit for me "straightening out" and "being a good girl." Nothing in my life is because of you, except maybe my unhealthy relationship to money. Paying me off to be good, showing me that you "loved" me by writing checks or opening your wallet. You never showed it in any way, so I started to put my self worth in monetary value, at least from you. And when you stopped "loving" me back in 1997, the checks stopped coming. Your wallet didn't open. I had to be silent about any part of my lfe for a fucking $20 from you, your equivalent of saying "fuck off". But now you are sitting in your dark, empty house, waiting for the phone to ring from me, wanting to hear my voice because now you actually pretend to give a shit. Fuck you. You deserve nothing from me. You have given me nothing. You are nothing to me. And you'll never know just how happy we will be when we no longer have to worry about you. Freedom will finally come to those I love.

And if any of this seems heartless, well bitch, I learned it from you. Being able to turn my back on family comes directly from you. How dare you even take up my thoughts in this blog post. How DARE you pretend to care. Of course now you can care. You can be "proud" of me, now that I'm with a biological man. Now that I'm living the "right" way. Heaven forbid I was anything other than what you wanted.

HE always loved me. Until the last breath left his body as I was holding his hand, he loved me. And it's because of him and his memory that I don't tell you these things to your fucking face. Because I love him. I respect him. And because of him, I'll pretend to love you. But you have no idea what it truly is to love. You are so sad and pathetic. But you get no sympathy from me. All you get are fake laughs and smiles and kisses, gritting my teeth as I say I love you. Cursing your name on the phone with you.

He loved me. Don't EVER pretend to compare yourself to him. Ever. There is no comparison. Nothing even close.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Ten days

and counting...

Saturday, April 08, 2006

The phone call.

I was getting ready to go to bed when the phone rang. It was a VERY drunk Steve, making "a faux pas" by calling me. He was getting made fun of by Roz and Nate in the car with him, and he said, "I'm marrying the most wonderful woman in the world and I'll call her if I want. Fuck you!" which, in spite of the slurring and volume, made me smile from ear to ear. Only my man, drunk off his ass on his bachelor party night, would call me and tell me that he loved me. They weren't able to get lanes at Lucky Strike, so they chose to move it to Spyners. I bet the bar will LOVE him! God, I wish I could see it! But I'll have to hear all the stories tomorrow. Steve started to tell me a little bit about his night, and then he said, "No, I can't tell you any more about my day because it's a faux pas that I'm talking to you. So you'll have to wait until tomorrow, after rehearsal, to hear any more about my day because it's a faux pas that I'm talking to you." I couldn't stop laughing. So funny.

I can't wait to hear the stories. And fetch him asprin!

Gettin' trashed....

So today is Steve's bachelor day. It started with memosas and breakfast at our apartment for those in the wedding party (I conveniently had a meeting with Ericka to get my make up done for the wedding) and going to a Cubs game (he had no idea of either). Then, back to our place (I conveniently met up with Leslie as she was changing clothes and took over her place for a few hours) for cocktails and gathering of all of his friends. Then, they headed out to Fogo de Chaos for meat, meat and more meat, along with cocktails, I'm sure. Then, they are heading to Lucky Strike for bowling, pool, darts and, again, cocktails. They have been at the alley for about an hour as I write this.

Then, his drunk ass will come home to me. I'm glad he doesn't have any hair to hold back if he pukes. I'm so excited to hear about his day (and feign surprise about it all....wide eyed wonder!).

The only thing that slightly sucks is this conundrum.....I really want to see him having such a good time. We haven't had many of those lately, with stress and being tired and work and all. But I want him to have that fun without me, so he is reminded of his individuality. But I want to SEE it, from afar. I want to see the happiness on his face as he's surrounded by his nearest and dearest. I want to dress in drag and spy on him, taking pictures of the smiles and laughs so I can remind him, when he's feeling down, that he's loved by so many.

However, I will remain here. Working on yet another paper. And playing in my mind what I think is happening at certain times. I just hope it's as wonderful as I have it in my head.

I'm sure it will be much more than what I could imagine. Cloud 9.....until the puking starts! But then, he can come home to me and I'll take care of him. Selflessness? No....I have a bachelorette party coming up sometime soon......karma!

;)

Friday, April 07, 2006

Compulsion?

I've always had a really weird attitude toward death. The death of those I love, the loss and entire process of grieving. I have a hard time letting it all go. It lasts for years. Well, actually, if I only have one death to grieve over, I actually do pretty well. But that's never really the way it happens. It's either one death with other huge life changes happening right at the same time, or a shitload of death with nothing else in the way of life being bad.

The fact that I don't deal with death well leads to this next thing, which is really contradicting. I can't handle the death of those around me well at all, but I feel the need to look at death in pictures.

Okay, here is the story......

Steve mentioned that on rotten.com, there were pictures of what happens to people when they use meth (teeth falling out, open sores, etc). For those who don't know, rotten.com is a website NOT for the faint of heart. There are pictures of things that are nightmares for most people. Brutality, autopsies, things like that. So I hop on the site and look at the pictures of meth users, thinking of all the sociological reasons it may happen to some (because I can't turn it off) and then rummage around the site a bit more.

If I didn't think it was going to be grotesque, I didn't click on it. And it was. The pictures I saw tonight will stay with me through the night, no doubt. And maybe a dream here or there about them. But the need to see it was there.

I think it's a way that I deal with my own mortality. I think I need to see pictures of what will, inevidably, happen to all of us. And I've been on a real mortality kick lately, being very accutely aware of the fact that, one day (YEARS from now) I will die.

It sounds really morbid and horrible, but that's our culture. My friend Pat, from Romania, says that Americans don't deal with death at all like they do in her country. From the time a child is young, they start working on their "Death Quilt". Every day, day in and day out, they sit and stitch on their quilts, and every day they are reminded that they will die. By the time they are old, they are so used to the idea of dying that they accept it as a natural part of life. They aren't afraid of it. They don't dread it. They accept it with a peace that you really don't see here. And, they have beautiful quilts to give to their children, grandchildren and have these amazing family heirlooms. It shows the children who are just starting their quilts that it's okay to experience death.....we really have no choice.

I don't know where this is all coming from. I've had a great day. Steve and I got our marriage license today, and we sized my Pap's ring to fit his finger. I'm not sad or depressed or anything like that. In fact, I'm in quite a good mood.

It's just this whole death thing. I think I'm just trying to wrap my head around the thing that is unavoidable. I'm trying to see life and death through the eyes of a Romanian, and accept it as natural, beautiful and a part of life. But it's hard. We are taught in this culture to avoid it at all costs. We spend millions of dollars to look younger, be younger, and avoid what none of us can. It's a really sad thing that we do. That's why I will never get Botox. Never get a lift or tuck. I enjoy my wrinkles. My laugh lines and crows feet prove to myself and the world that I've laughed in my day. I've also cried and experienced loss, and those lines show as well. But I refuse to go through life, all the good and bad, and not show it. I refuse to have scars on the inside but have a plastic mask to show the rest of the world. I've earned every wrinkle, every scar. And damnit, I'm proud of them.

This is, by far, one of the weirdest posts I've put up. And funny, in a way, since I'm in such a good mood. But I would much rather think of these things when I'm in the place to handle it than think about it when I'm down. I guess it's the brain's way of dealing with things when they need to be dealt with and protecting me from thinking these things when I can't handle them.

But life is good. And while I have it, I'm going to live it. And when I no longer have it, well, the next journey begins. And it's not one to fear at all.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

DONE!!!!!

I am DONE, freakin' DONE with my almost 20 page midterm due on Tuesday.

I am done with my make up miniquiz for U.S. Politics ( I missed the quiz due to my headache from hell).

I haven't started on the second essay in my class due on Tuesday, but it's a revision of the first essay I did (which I got an A on) and I'm not thinking about it right this second.

I'm basking in the glow of having these two beasts done.

Closer

We have 21 days until the wedding.

I can't wait for it to be done. Then, I can't wait for school to let out.

I need time to chill, and just working full time will give me that time. I just need a week where there is nothing going on but one thing, maybe two. And I don't want timelines. I want to throw my planner in the corner the last day of class and not get it back out until the first day of fall semester.

It's a beautiful day and I've spent it all inside. I only got to know how beautiful it was a few minutes ago, when I walked to Walgreens. But this paper has to be done. I finished one, am almost done with the second, and the third will have to happen either sometime tonight or tomorrow during the afternoon. Probably tonight, since I don't want to be stuck at the computer on Steve's birthday, although he probably will be.

But it's not even 7 yet. There is still time to get all my stuff done for tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that......

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Oh yeah

Getting ready to head over to Kerrigan's for the second LadyBusiness. There will be memosas. There will be food of all sorts. There will be good times, laughing and a lot of estrogen bonding.

All of those I've needed. Just didn't realize it until I woke up this morning, excited about heading over to Dominicks and grabbing my ingredients for a recipe I got at my bridal shower.