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.
Ah, the anxiety
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.
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.
