The end of an era

Last Friday night my belly button ring fell out. I'd been wanting to take it out for a few years, but I was a little sketched out by the hole it would leave behind in my stomach. Because that's gross.

I'd stalled and stalled and luckily my abs are in great shape so I figured I could get away with still having a pierced navel over the age of 30. But it plagued me. I knew that sometime soon it would have to come out, and I was worried that every time I looked down at where it used to be I'd pass out.

When I realized it was gone, my first instinct was to get a new one. I'd promised to take it out after the honeymoon, so I figured why jump the gun and do it early? There's so much transition as is - why make a huge change to my very core? But after a few hours I realized it was just meant to be. Holes heal.

 

If there's a wedding planning wall we've definitely hit it. Hard.

Fiancé and I are pretty much in agreement that wedding planning is getting OLD. We're excited for the wedding and honeymoon, but we're also exhausted. I can't remember the last time we had a free weekend. Monday almost feels like a relief.

Yesterday evening we went to a church picnic and spent some time talking to a parishioner who's really into acupuncture. He swears by it. I wonder if acupuncture could help me feel more energetic? I just wouldn't want any needles in my feet. That's too intense.

 

The moments that pass us by

I've never gotten into the whole eBay thing. But Fiancé sells some of his artwork on eBay, so I've been taking more of an interest in it lately. Tonight I wondered away from the art section and into the wedding dress section. You might wonder why, since I already have my own wedding dress. I guess I just wanted to see why people end up selling theirs.

I have to admit I'm a little tempted to bid on an ugly one just for fun. I can't ever go try on wedding dresses again, and I totally rushed through the process. I could go back and do it some more. I'm still engaged, so I could make a day of visiting other bridal shops with some air of legitimacy. But I'm in that vulnerable place where if I go and try dresses on (just for fun) and accidentally stumble upon one I like better than my own I'll be tempted to make a (second) colossal financial "investment."

I adore my dress. It's my dress. So I'm okay with not trying on any more. It's just that when it came to buying it, I was so intent on getting it done that I forgot to realize that I'd never get to do it again. Like I said in a previous post, you don't realize when it's the last time you're going to experience something. Even when it's really pretty obvious that you're about to blow right by a once in a lifetimer.

 

Ah, the anxiety

Hello old friend.

I keep getting "count down" emails from The Knot, and everyone keeps reminding me how many weeks are left until the wedding with the idea that this will make me happy and excited.

It freaks me out, people.

It's not the marriage, it's the wedding. The wedding is freaking me out. I'm not sure we're ready. What are we forgetting? What needs to get done?

It's like ice water running down my spine when I think of all that could go horribly wrong.

 

Do you want endorphins with that?

A McDonald's in Eaton Ohio has constructed the Ronald McDonald Gym. It's a play area with interactive activities to get kids moving after they've wolfed down some good ol' artery clogging Happy Meals. It's even got exercise bikes, disguised by bright colors and flashy mechanisms.

I want to say that it's insane, what we're doing. But I guess it's not. Whatever gets people moving.

 

Pity party of one

Lately I've been feeling sorry for myself. My family from Germany can't make it to the wedding, except maybe one cousin. Most of my step-siblings can't make it. And a few of my friends will be having babies. Which is so happy, but it still means they can't be at my wedding. So I've been feeling like a friendless orphan. Fiancé's family is HUGE, so in comparison the feeling kinda fits.

I am of course ignoring the fact that most of our mutual friends, many of my friends, and all of our colleagues are able to make it. My best friends and immediate family will be there with us through all the wedding festivities. But when you're hosting a pity party you don't invite the bright side.

Tonight I finally went back to yoga. Or to yoga, since I wasn't going back. I've never gone to yoga at my new gym. Which isn't new anymore, since I've been going there for over a year. The completely remodeled floor dedicated to studios named after the 4 elements and ultra serious members caused me to keep my distance.

But in the tranquility (and the new studios are amazingly tranquil) I realized what I've been missing. As I stood with my legs together, my arms above my head, reaching backward and staring at the sky, I realized that my life could certainly be a lot worse. I've always wished I had more people to call my own, but in my longing for an endless abundance of love I've completely overlooked everything in my life which fulfills me.

 

Walk on

Friday night Fiancé and I watched Elizabethtown (don't bother). In the movie, Orlando Bloom falls for a stewardess on a red eye flight (Kirsten Dunst) and a murky, flirty relationship develops over several marathon phone calls and a few late night/early morning meet-ups.

The movie made me realize that part of my life is over. Which isn't a bad thing (in my opinion that part of my life lasted too long anyway), but it didn't really hit me until that moment. It's the first time I felt like a movie about young love didn't really apply to me anymore. Don't get me wrong - I like the next chapter of my life. It's exciting and romantic in very different, very meaningful ways. I just no longer fit into the Elizabethtown category.

But I guess when you experience something for the last time you don't necessarily realize it's the last time you'll experience it. Then again, any time you move on you have to leave something behind you.

 

Just sayin'

Watching marathon Desperate Housewives on dvd makes me want a boob job.

 

Rewarded

Last night on my way home from the gym I stopped at the café and picked up a sandwich and Fiancé and I walked down to the Charles river and sat on the docks watching the sun set. It was a great evening - clear and bright with just a little chill in the air. The last time we were on the dock we didn't have any snacks for the ducks, so this time we were happy to realize we could give them part of our dinner. Fiancé tore off pieces of bread from his half of the sandwich, but I didn't really want to part with any of my bread. So I threw them the tortilla chips that came with the sandwich. Fiancé doesn't think the tortilla chips are good for the ducks, but whatever - I saw a little girl feeding them swedish fish last weekend and the ducks lived to tell the tale.

After a while, we had a group of five ducks at our feet. Fiancé tore off a piece of bread and left it just at the edge of the dock - an experiment to see if the ducks would want the bread bad enough to come up and get it. They didn't, but one duck claimed the bread as hers and sat in the water directly beneath the dock. If the other ducks approached, she would nip at them to keep them away. Curious, I upped the ante and added a second piece of bread. Still no bite. But the duck wouldn't leave, either. Finally after many minutes it seemed to give up, and so we tossed the bread after it as it started to swim away. Perseverance should count for something, even if it wasn't absolute perseverance.