Boogie oogie nights

Yesterday Fiancé and I went to our friends' wedding. It was a fabulous night. The wedding was at a funky, retro hotel in Cambridge on the river, and the ceremony was beautiful and authentic. It was magical watching our two friends commit their lives to one another. It would have been magical regardless, but it was that much more magical because I knew we soon would follow in their footsteps. The bride was stunning, the groom looked proud, and the bar was open - what else do you need for a kickass wedding? We spent the latter part of the night dancing, laughing, and hanging out with other guests. Then we retreated upstairs to our hotel room and, laying on the bed forehead to forehead, did the post-mortem. We experienced all the same things that night, but it's always fun to talk about it afterwards.


Are you sure we can't fix that with a little Wite-Out?

On the application for Holy Matrimony at Park Street Church in Boston:

In spite of the devaluation of sexual intimacy in our society, it is our conviction that such intimacy and/or cohabitation before marriage are not acceptable in the eyes of the Lord. Accordingly, couples who have not lived up to God's standards in this matter will be urged to repent - in part, by having their wedding as soon as practicable.


Ah, an Evangelical church. I didn't realize.

We won't marry there. Unless, apparently, we do it tomorrow.


I'm goin' down

So this weekend we hit Macy's President's Day sale. Fiancé got a dapper Calvin Klein suit, and I got my first ever down jacket. I'm not sure how I survived this long in New England without one. I'm in heaven.


A polar bear on the island

So J's still on me about the heat. She insists that I should just layer up and withstand the 50-something degree temperatures in our house. It's hard for me to convince her that she's insane. The tough thing about insanity is that crazy people typically don't know they're out of their f*cking mind.



I never imagined it would be like this. It's such a profound change when you commit, as a couple, to share your lives together. Everything is the same and yet completely different. It's amazing.

There's a lot of shit in life. This is the good stuff.


The meteorologist who cried weather advisory

It had better snow tomorrow. Crazy snow. I've rearranged my schedule, packed my bags, made alternate plans. If there's nary a flurry I'll be SO pissed.


Something old

Last night I caught up with my very first, very best friend P. She called to talk about the engagement, and we had a lot of other ground to cover as well. We're not the best at keeping in consistent touch, but she's my gal. That happened when I was 3, and hasn't changed since.

My mom, sister and I moved to New Jersey just after I'd turned 3, and C was 5. We rented a tiny bungalow house set far back from a quiet neighborhood street. One evening after dinner C and I went outside to feed the birds some leftover bread. We were in our footed pajamas with our puffed up toes stuffed into my mom's high heeled Candies. We shuffled along the winding narrow sidewalk that led to the street. As we got near the road, we spotted a little girl in front of her own house on the other side.

We had strict instructions not to cross the street. We found out later that P had been complying with those very same instructions as she stayed put and watched us from her front lawn. So we stood there, me and C on one side, P on the other. Finally my mom called for us, and we headed back up toward the house. That was the start of something big in each of our lives. Shortly thereafter P and I became inseparable and remained so our entire childhood.

And 28 years later, we're totally separated. By geography, time, and the everyday of simply living. We're not held together by phone calls, visits, or emails. But we're held together nonetheless. We're held together by something else. It's not blood. But similarly, it pumps through the heart.


The cure

Fiancé and I have covered our wedding basics. We know when (if all goes according to plan February 2nd 2008), where-ish (Boston, the Vineyard, or Minneapolis), and what kind (Catholic church wedding, fun and trendy reception). We've tossed around ideas for color schemes, I've chosen a head piece style. We've flipped through pictures of tuxedos and wedding gowns.

After spending the weekend with Fiancé, I'm much calmer. I think I panicked because I didn't see him from the time we got off the ferry boat Sunday evening until the following Saturday morning. But now I remember what it's all about.

Yesterday we went to brunch at S&S, and then Fiancé had hours of paperwork and I spent the late evening tucked into his gigantic new bed watching Lost on dvd. I had a remote control, a bowl of M&Ms, a glass of milk, and a soothed soul.

I'm ready.


Found my lost shaker of salt

Just got back from José's - had a margarita the size of my head while hearing about J's love life and dodging questions about my upcoming nuptials.

I thought about keeping the bill and trying to submit for reimbursement through EC's Accounts Payable department but I don't think they'd 1) get the humor or 2) appreciate it.


Just when you thought it was safe to take yourself too seriously...

I'm very grateful for my friend L, who, when I sent her the picture Fiancé took of us moments after the proposal, commented "I can see up your nose in this photo!"


Don't feed it after midnight

C called today as I was sinking onto the kitchen floor in tears, having just visited several wedding websites. I was warned not to look at those sites, like and, until we're ready to start planning our wedding. We agreed to put wedding planning on the back burner this week. But temporarily shelving those detail-oriented discussions is proving to be a nearly impossible task, given that everyone wants to talk about it. I want to dwell on our romantic engagement, but people understandably want to know when, where, and then what. Fair questions, but I think normal women morph into bridezillas from exactly that kind of pressure.


Everything's better on the Vineyard

This weekend was a perfect weekend. BF took me on a mini-break to Martha's Vineyard for our anniversary. He planned the whole trip himself, and did a terrific job - I'm very impressed.

We stayed at a fabulous B&B - the Hob Knob Inn. The room was big and country-ish with wide wood blinds and a four post bed. Nothing was too cute, but just cute enough. The bathroom had Aveda products, and the tea room had a fireplace. They even had a dog there, a lab named Hallie, so I got some pet therapy. And the breakfasts and teas were amazing - BF and I eventually started joking that food must just taste better on the Vineyard.

We had a laid back trip - the Vineyard was deserted but beautiful in its desolation. The only people we ran into were a few other guests at the Inn and several townies at the local pub. We listened to blue grass, went to the tiny single screen movie theater (Pan's Labyrinth, thumbs up), played checkers, and worked out in the Inn's small private gym. It was great to be together. Several times throughout the weekend I thought, "This is perfect. It couldn't be more perfect."

And then the happiest thing happened, which is sticky news for my blog. It turns out it could be more perfect. Boyfriend brought me to the beach, dropped to one knee, and proposed! But... now he needs a new name.

I think I will call him Fiancé.


Graceful exits

And then there's the other kind.

I think my therapist E is trying to terminate me. I'm being extremely resistant. The funny thing is, I talk with my therapist friends about clients who won't terminate. But it's different when it's you.

It reminds me of when I was a kid and we'd try to put my evil cat, Friskey, into his cat carrier. He would do that cat thing where they spread all four of their legs out so you can't push them in? Well, I'm pulling a similar stunt, just in the opposite direction.

It's scary letting go. I know as well as E that I don't need to keep seeing her on a biweekly basis. But I like knowing she's there. Simple as that. Today we sat in silence for the last half of my session. I don't care. I'll sit in silence and pay good money to do it. I'm on the longterm plan.

I think she'll eventually push the issue, as I'm sure it's a therapeutic necessity to terminate - it symbolizes healing and closure. But for now she reluctantly continues to schedule me every other week, same time same place. I told her she's welcome to read or do crossword puzzles during our 50 minutes together. As long as she shows up.

I'm really big on the just showing up.