Unforgettab – Wait, What Was I Saying?

I am forgetful and absent-minded.  When I read Rebecca’s stories about forgetting something important, I almost want to cry with her because Oh my god have I been there. I’m the type of person who plans elaborate meals with recipes I’ve only just glanced at, and then forgets a crucial ingredient.  And when I get back from the grocery store with said ingredient, I’ll realize that I’ve forgotten two more ingredients.  And, yes, it will ruin my entire evening (no matter who happens to be in the kitchen with me).

I know it shouldn’t matter, I know that.  But somehow it does.  It matters that I can’t get things right the first time around.  It matters that no matter how many times I screw something up, I can’t get it right the next time around.  I will always forget ingredients and misplace my keys.

I’m self-aware enough to know that I hate this trait about myself, but not aware enough to stop it from happening the next time around.  That’s what infuriates me.

So it should come as no surprise that my wedding nightmares – it seems that, lacking anything else to worry about, my subconscious will make things up to worry about – revolve around me forgetting some key part my preparation for the wedding.  I dreamed that I forgot to go to my hair and make up appointment.  All my bridesmaids made it there, but I couldn’t be bothered to remember.

Last Thursday I dreamed that the wedding was on Saturday and I didn’t have a flight to Oregon.  This particular scenario is a sensitive subject ever since January when, the day before flying to Oregon, I realized that I didn’t buy my ticket.  And then, after buying a less-than-cheap ticket, I forgot to double check the time and completely missed the flight.

Whenever I wake up from these dreams I spend most of the day making lists of things I need to do or have done for the wedding, hoping that I won’t forget something serious.  Like my shoes, which I made Wes’ dad pack down so that I could practice walking in them so that I wouldn’t fall down while walking down the aisle and are now sitting in the closet, having been worn only once since they arrived two weeks ago.  I’ll probably need to leave post-its with the important items I need to bring home.

Luckily, I have a great group of girls surrounding me the wedding week.  They’ll keep me on track and make sure I get to the salon on time.  Brette even said she’d fly to come get me if I didn’t make my flight.  And even if I do miss something, I know that at the end of the aisle a forgiving and understanding man who is ready to marry me.  Who would marry me even if I wasn’t wearing make up or my hair wasn’t fancied up.

All Work and No Play

Last Tuesday I got asked to work full-time for the next two weeks and while I really l wanted to say that I had family in town and couldn’t, I knew that’s not the way to win a full-time position, which is what I’m ultimately after.  So instead of spending the days at the beach drinking umbrella drinks, I’m staring at the computer screen all day.  (Note to everyone: my almost-in-laws are not spending all day drinking cocktails at the beach.)

Being at work allows me plenty of time to think about all the activities I would surely be doing if only I weren’t chained to this desk: running with Tsunami, walking around Hawaii with only my camera, sitting a cute cafe just to read and write.  Thinking about these things only makes me mad that I have to work, but then I remind myself that I steady paycheck (even if it’s just from a part time job) helps me to relax and enjoy the time that I have off.  Instead of sitting on the couch and stressing out about budgets and bills I can get out and enjoy the world.

I’m getting married in 18 days and will then be able to cross of another Life List item.  It feels, at once, like it’s just right around the corner and also like 18 days will stretch out forever.  I keep reminding myself to not get caught up in all the small details of the day.   It’s part of a bigger plan to tell myself to slow down and enjoy what’s going on in the moment.  I need to stop worrying about how things will work out in the end and just go with the flow.  The wedding will be awesome because I’m marrying a man I love.  And there will be alcohol.  And dancing.  What could go wrong there?

The day after the wedding is the day I start my 365 Photo Project, also an item on my list.  It’s part of my plan to understand my camera better, but it’s also part of my plan to document our first year of marriage.  Obviously I can’t plan the pictures ahead of time, but I’m looking forward to seeing what the first year of marriage holds for me and Wes.  I’m excited to take the pictures that relate to our new life together (even though it probably won’t differ much from our current life together).  The plan is to take a picture and write about it.  And maybe I won’t get to write about every picture in depth, but I want to write a lot more than what I’ve been doing.  I want to slow down and put some memories down here.

My Dad is a Smart Ass

Actual conversation between me and my dad as my mom is outside of the car helping him reverse into a parking spot:

Me: If you had fancy reverse sensors you wouldn’t need any help.

Him: Not that they helped you.

31

He said that she wouldn’t get an engagement ring until she removed all the other rings she was wearing, which was apparently a lot. Even though she claims that she didn’t wear that many (“This little finger didn’t have one. And this index finger only had one up to the knuckle,” which, if you ask me, is like one step forward two steps back). So she took off all of her other rings and waited.

Once she got the ring he said that they had to be engaged for at least a year before they got married. But then they bought a house and closed on Memorial Day weekend and he said that if she could plan a summer wedding on short notice, they could get married earlier. So she spent the month of June planning their wedding.

She was my mom and he was my dad. They were both 21 years old and it was 31 years ago today.

Handsome couple

**********************

In 31 days I’ll start my own journey to 31 years (and hopefully more) and I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships and marriage.  I used to think that the best advice was to never hang up the phone or leave without telling that person that you love them.  But lately I’ve been thinking that’s not it at all.  I’ve been thinking that perhaps the best advice is Don’t Ever Give Up.  Marriage doesn’t automatically make everything GREAT!  A set of rings on our fingers doesn’t mean that Wes will suddenly stop leaving milk glass out and un-rinsed.  Or that I’ll start remembering to pick up all the hair I leave in my wake.

The best thing my parents have given me (other than the (hopefully) kick-ass wedding next month) is to show me that you can work things out.  I know their marriage hasn’t always been easy and I’m sure there were times when it would have been easier to just pick up and leave.  But they didn’t.  And today is their 31st wedding anniversary and they are happy together.  They give me inspiration for my own marriage.

Mom & Dad: Cheers to 31 years of marriage.  And thank you for not making it look easy all the time.  I love you both.

Still a handsome couple

The Same But Different

I’ve been in Boise for the past couple of days and I’ve realized what a great place this city is.  I don’t think I’m realizing that it’s always been this awesome, because it has changed a lot in the last ten years, but there is a lot of awesomeness that’s been here all along, I’m sure.  I spent a lot of years just itching to get out and then, ten years later, it has nearly everything that Wes and I want from a city.  The only thing that’s missing is a job for him.

But the reason I’m here has nothing to do with what a great city Boise is.  My grandmother died on June 22nd.  And then, two weeks later, my aunt died.  Those two weeks were the only time in her life that she was away from her mother.  So I flew in on a red-eye flight Tuesday evening in order to get to Boise to drive to Salt Lake City on Thursday, and then come back to Boise on Friday afternoon.  It’s been a whirlwind weekend.

My aunt’s death, by the way, was the fifth one in less than a year.  Five people I know, five people who were important to someone who is important to me died, starting with one of my best friend’s dad in September and ending with my aunt on Tuesday.  Hopefully.

Five people in less than a year is too much.  It’s too much for someone who just lost a loved one to keep hearing about other people losing loved ones.  So life, it’s the same but different.  There’s still a life to be lived and dinner to be cooked and jobs to be worked.  But it’s different and it will never be the same.

Whitney’s dad used to say all his swear words at once – when he was driving was when we would usually hear it.  I remember our friend Laura telling us about it the first time she heard it.  In a whisper she related the story, “And then he said shitfuckdamnhell!”  I feel like saying that a lot: shitfuckdamnhell! First one dad, then a mom, then another dad and then a mom and sister.  Shitfuckdamnhell.  And it seems like every time we tell the story, someone else has a death to add.  A grandmother, another mother, a dad, a mom.

Shitfuckdamnhell.  The same but different.

Rest in Peace, wherever you are: Tracey, Steve, Grandma, Aunt Pook.

26.2

A couple of years ago I ran the Nike Women’s Half Marathon in San Francisco.  It was both harder and easier than I imagined.  There was a full marathon as well and when we half marathoners turned off to run that .1 mile, the full marathoners turned left to continue on their trek.  When I turned off to finish the race I thought to myself, Self, I don’t think I’ll ever want to run a full marathon.

But then Maggie started advocating this Life List and I realized that I really did want to run a full marathon.  And once I put it down in writing, it’s been sort of haunting me.  I immediately thought of the Honolulu marathon, which takes place in December.  But then I hemmed and hawed because it’s so hot and humid here and 26.2 miles in that weather?  No thanks.  And still it gnawed at me.  What a great thing to do while I’m living here: run the Honolulu marathon every year.

Last night was the last day for early entry, which is $50 less than it costs today.  So without thinking, just knowing that if I ended up being 100% sure in one month, I would be mad at myself for essentially wasting $50.  So at 10pm last night, just as I was falling asleep, I jumped out of bed and registered for the marathon.

When I woke up this morning instead of feeling scared about the next 5+ months, I feel totally exhilarated.   I started looking at races happening between now and then and am even contemplating at tri in September.  I know signing up for a big race doesn’t mean much, but it’s the first step and sometimes the first step is the hardest.  There are so many things I want in my personal life and it’s that first step that I always have trouble committing to.  Signing up for a full marathon has lit a fire under me and made me want to take more first steps.  Next up: I start writing more.