My pretty pretty bride

This weekend we attended a Halloween party at a friend's house. I generally either go all out, or don't do anything at all, and this year we decided to try a Bride and Groom get up seeing as this goes along with the topic of many of our conversations. But now of course, we couldn't just do your everyday bride and groom... oh no. Eric wanted to be the bride.

A few weeks ago we started looking at thrift stores and craigslist and eBay to find a used dress that wouldn't cost us too much for a costume. We were all into it and then got busy with life and such, and forgot about it. Of course a few days before the party a bit of a panic set in (just for me... he was totally cool with whatever we did). The night before the party I all but gave up on the bride and groom idea and just wanted anything that would make due for a costume.

Of course we ended up at one of those overpriced Halloween stores with just about all the other procrastinators in the area. I was stressed, disappointed at the lack of merchandise left, and got... well... pissy. Eric put me in my place and reminded me that this costume business was about having fun, not about being perfect. He was right, but even though I knew I needed to have fun and try to salvage the fun of our hunt, it was hard to get passed my gloom.

Eric suggested we go to Target, that maybe we would be inspired there. I totally poo-poo'd his idea but went along anyway. Some hunting through the aisles was not turning up anything, and the grumpy me was creeping back. Then we just decided to shop. Low and behold..... a white strapless dress casually tossed over the clearance rack in the Junior's area. It was a size 18, so I had plenty to work with to get it to fit on Eric's not to girlish figure. Finally a breakthrough in my mood.

Add a little handy work with some Safty-pins, a bunch of tulle, Costco flowers, an old headband, fake eyelashes and make-up....Voila! My pretty pretty bride.





The pretty pretty bride is pictured here with our friend Omar as the Mayor from The Nightmare Before Christmas. Sadly I have no pictures of both of us as I was behind the camera... funny how it worked out like that.

MSG?

Last night the project my team at work has been working on finally came to an end. Not like we won't have follow-up work to do but it was a wonderful milestone for a lot of long nights and weekends. I felt such a huge sense of relief that I threw my budget to the wind and brought home $40 of Chinese food for Eric and I to feast upon.

Sadly, soon after eating said feast, Eric retreated to the bedroom where he rolled around in pain with a migraine and then he had Chinese food again... but the wrong way... a few times.

He was feeling a little dehydrated but generally ok before the food eating began. We both ate the same food so its likely not food poisoning, and I don't know of a food borne thingy that would cause the migraine. I went to the "fancy" Chinese place and assumed they don't use MSG, but I could be wrong. Does anyone know if MSG can do this to a person?

(update: Eric woke up (on the couch) feeling just fine this morning and went to work with a lot of energy so thankfully he got out or slept off whatever it was)

(update to the update: Not thinking about the headache, nausea and all the fun he had with the Chinese food the night before, he ate the leftovers the next night with not a hint of understanding as to why I was concerned. Thankfully there were no repeats.)

To wash or not to wash

Over the last 6 months I have noted a behavior that I find most puzzling. I have always believed that women were superior in planning skills, in knowing the right thing to do and when (DUH) and many other areas over the men-types. I also used to think that they were the more clean of the two sexes. But I have noticed something that is making me question my beliefs.

NOT ALL WOMEN WASH THEIR HANDS AFTER USING THE TOILET!

I admit I never really paid much attention to the hand washing practices of others whom I am sharing a restroom with, but recently I have begun listening to the post-toilet-using-activities of fellow ladies' room users to see if they just walk out, of if they stop to scrub the little nasties off their hands before touching the OUT handle of the door. To my shock, almost every person whom I have had the fortune of listening for these activities have headed straight for the door.

Now I'm not a germaphobe, really I'm not. In fact I still chuckle when I think of my MIL-to-be tell her granddaughter to not touch anything in the bathroom because its icky and dirty, but then encouraged her to push the button for the elevator. I figure the more germs kids are exposed to the better. But still... the bathroom door OUT handle is usually the cleanest place in the public restroom, but sadly not here.

My world is forever changed.

Game On!

Today I stumbled (via Maggie) upon a Blog writing challenge that has me strangely intrigued, NaBloPoMo - National Blog Posting Month started by Mrs. Kennedy over at Fussy.

There is only so much time in the day that I can devote to blogging, and most of the time that I have is spent on reading and commenting. I generally keep my blogroll short, and I still don't get to all of your posts everyday, and y'all know my spotty posting habit so I'm going to see if I can play by someone else's rules and get a better posting habit started. My goals will be to document the happenings of my brain, and to somehow establish a well written and entertaining way of sharing said happenings.

I don't usually like to play by other people's rules if they aren't the rules that I would play by on my own, and I am pretty bad at doing anything consistently, but I do work well with deadlines (as long as I have one and I will be held to it). The challenge is for the month of November, to post everyday. There will probably be a ton of wedding planning banter, house project joys, and capped off with stories of a Thanksgiving feast that has gone amok. Join me and wish me luck.

Look out November, I've signed-up and ready to blog.

I gotta go

The office in which I work is oh so very quiet. If you take a phone call at your desk, all will hear what you are saying. Most people go to a conference room when they are on the phone for personal or business calls. I find it a little strange, but at the same time is all makes sense.

Eric and I end every call with an exchange of I Love You's and I find this uncomfortable when I am too lazy to get up and I call him from my desk, so we came up with a code phrase to end our little chat ....

Me: Hi Love! Can you go to the grocery store for me today to pick up some stuff for dinner?

Him: Sure thing, what do you want me to get?

Me: I'll send you an email with a list. (We're so high-tech)

Him: Ok, sounds good.

Me: Thanks! I gotta go.

Him: I really gotta go too!

Me: I really really gotta go! I'll talk to you later! Bye.

Him: Bye.

Doesn't that make you want to just GAG?

Jumping on the wagon

A few people have written about loosing weight, getting in shape, and generally being healthy today so I will go ahead and jump on the train.

I have been in self-hate mode for a few days now. Perhaps it's the realization that I will be in many photographs coming up, and will be put into dress after dress to find the best one for me and my body. While going to wedding websites and reading wedding books and magazines, I am bombarded by the media's view of beauty along with lots of "Wedding Dress Shape-up" tips and advice.

Yes, I look down and I don't like my thighs, belly and butt. I see jeans that I bought not too long ago in a larger size showing signs that its time to go shopping again. Some of the changes in my body are due to the fibroids and I'm starting to understand and accept those. But they aren't the cause of the stretch in the jeans being put to the test around the backside and thighs.

I know that I'm not "fat" (whatever that means), but I do know that my body is changing and I'm not healthy cardiovascularly. I break into a sweat and heavy breathing when I walk up the very slight hill in the parking lot or the 1 flight of stairs at home. Whether its due to the lack of exercise or to my metabolism changing, (or both) I know that if I want to be healthier, I need to get to the gym, or walk at lunch, or do anything other then walk from the door to the car and back. I've been mindful of what I eat, and understanding that sometimes a buffet of catered food at the office is ok to splurge on occasionally, but I really should not have a biscotti or baklava just because its there and free (although it was REALLY GOOD! I was going to take a picture of the baklava today to post here... but I seems to have disappeared.)

I used to be very active. I used to hike multiple times a week, and dance dance dance. But the last few years I have lost the drive. I want to get it back. I need to get it back. I will get it back.

Doughnut anyone?

Where is the ring?

Eeee Gads!
Wedding plans can drive a person batty!

We have been engaged for about 6 weeks I'd say. I didn't share this wondeful news with you beautiful people because...well... I didn't want to. I have written a number of witty, cute posts to tell you, but honestly, I was waiting for the ring to simply post a picture of it.

Sigh.
The ring is still not here, and now the thoughts of wedding, marriage and future are so prominent in my thoughts that I could not keep it in any longer. I also didn't want to bore the masses (of all 3 of you) with my banter of wedding joys.

So...The ring was ordered a while ago, to be made custom by Eric's cousin, and Eric will not tell me anything about the progress as I am to be surprised. I know that his cousin is sending him pictures to approve and Eric has asked me to leave this up to him, that he will make sure all is perfect. Perhaps he will do the whole big proposal thing still, or he wants to present it to me in a special way other then me opening a brown paper package I get from the mailman. With me being the emotional control freak that I am... this waiting and not knowing thing is HARD, and is a wonderful opportunity for me to learn some life lessons of letting go control, trust and patience.

(oh you poor people... you don't know what is going to spew forth now that the flood gates have opened) Beware.

The why...

So today I wrote about how I haven't been able to sleep well on Sunday nights, and Gina posed an interesting question.... "Is it that you just don't like your job anymore?"

My own rule is to not talk about the details of work on the blog, and we all know why, but no I don't think it is that I don't like my job anymore. I enjoy the work and the challenge. Its not particularly creative, but I do enjoy the work. Granted yes I don't care for the commute, but I never did and that is well known at my office. There are parts of the commute that I do enjoy, like the getting to be alone with my thoughts (sorta - I do still have to drive and all, or commute with hundreds of others on the train), and getting to listen to NPR or my morning radio show is actually considered a treat to me.

But there have been a number of other things going on in my life that just sort of overwhelm me come each Sunday night. I think about all the laundry and the cleaning that didn't quite get done this weekend, all of the house projects that need to get underway in order to sell this place so we can move closer to my office. There are the worries of the money to do those projects and then somehow afford to live closer to the office.... those always seems to stir up those sleep stopping thoughts.

Then sometimes I just have too much on my mind, and I really should just get up and write them down to get them out of my head. This action has backfired on me occasionally and has then kept me up as I continued to think and work on these ideas and lists and thoughts.

But last night....oh last night. I was busy thinking and planning and getting totally overwhelmed by....

PLANNING OUR WEDDING (more on that to follow)

The Sunday night freak out

Bam! It's Monday!

Since the demand to work Saturdays has returned for a few more weeks, this was a really short weekend, and I'm so tired. My whole team is really tired, and everyone is getting really short, and now sick too. A few weeks ago I felt the congestion starting, and its not letting up. I have that permanent lump in my throat and occasional gagging cough. Mmm Mmm fun.

For the last few months I've found that I've been getting more and more tired. I sleep in, I take naps, and am generally lazy and refreshed all weekend, and then come Sunday night I can't sleep. I lay there. Freaking out that its Sunday night and that tomorrow is Monday. I worry about this and that and the next thing I know the sun is coming up. Oh sure, I've dosed a few hours here and there, but never soundly. Never like I did for my Sunday after-breakfast nap (Aren't those the BEST?), or like I do during the week.

What is it about Mondays that make me so uneasy?

Battle of the Album Covers

I swear I will not just keep posting YouTube videos and will actually write something soon, but I ran into this today, and immediately thought of Ted.

This is for you Ted.

For the Love of Reading

This goes out to all who love to read and those who wish they loved to read more.



I got this from Dennis, who got this here.

The Changing of the Clocks

Around this time of year I usually start wondering when we will change our clocks again to go back to Pacific Standard Time. I have been lucky enough to remember "Fall Back, Spring Forward", and never really grasp that there was an actual rule to when we go through this ritual of saying hello to cold darkness and goodbye to bright summer evenings.

Believe me I never look forward to "Falling Back" because it means going back to living in the dark. Its dark when I go into the office, and its dark when I come out. In the spring and summer I always feel a sense of being alive and a boost of energy to come out of a long day at work, to a sunny sky that is beckoning for an after dinner hike, or a walk around the town square for ice cream.

So today, I was getting curious about when it will be time to welcome back the darkness, and I wandered about the net (actually I was researching some stuff for work since I have to do system testing with time changes and leap years and stuff, but that's all boring junk). In my search I came across a new US Daylight Saving time rule which starts next year. I haven't found the reason for it yet, but starting next year we will be extending Daylight Saving by 2 months. Starting in March and going to November (its been April to October for those, like myself, didn't know the rule).

I always feel like I have a hard time adjusting to the change anyway, and now its changing even more. I'm curious if I'll even notice, or will this be just another step in taking each day as it comes.

Ohhhh! Airplanes!

This past weekend was Fleet Week in San Francisco, and the sunshine returned to give us a gloriously clear skies.

Back in high school a trip into SF on this particular weekend meant only one thing to me... MEN IN UNIFORM! oh how I still swoon. You see, I was in the marching band (go ahead and snicker), and to top that off, I was in the color guard as well. Up until my senior year, we played off color guard as a spirit team so I got to wear a cute little cheerleader outfit. Of course we just hated to be stuck wearing these cute little outfits around downtown SF with all these sailor boys... oh just hated it!

Now adays, I pack us up and head to the crowded city for more then just the uniforms, because Eric isn't as into that as I am, and we battle the crowds for a good seat to watch the Red Bull Air Race.

WEeee. Those planes go fast. They often cross the start at over 200 mph. And I'm not good at visually judging distance, but we were pretty darn close to those air planes. Not really 'I can almost touch them' close but still pretty close. To demonstate the closeness...I took these photos of the air race and the Blue Angels, and my camera is just a little digital point and shoot. Weeee! I love air shows (and men in uniform - even though some of them looked like they were twelve).

Changes

The mornings have been crisper, and clouds have been hiding the rising sun. As I take to the road for my daily commute, I have been seeing the sun fight its way through the clouds. By the time I reach the other side of the Oakland hills, the sun has usually made its way through the clouds and its sun, sun, sun the rest of the day. But yesterday was a little different. There was a forecast for rain, and dark clouds hanging over the city, and I was heading straight for them.

Yesterday afternoon the first drops of the season fell. I had mixed feelings as I looked out the window to see the shiny asphalt of the parking lot. I admit I let out a few sighs, and even whined a touch, but as I walked out the door of the office on my way to my car I took in a deep breath and began to smile. I know this sounds hokey, but it felt like I was breathing in life and I couldn't get enough.

I don't ever recall being happy about the change to Autumn. I love summer. Love it to pieces. Even when it has been over 100 degrees for a week and doesn't cool down at night, I will still take it over the rain and cold. But this year it different. All day long I sit in an office and think about the moment I will walk into my house so I can pull on a comfy oversized sweatshirt and comfy pants and fuzzy socks. I have been waiting for the fall crisp apples so I can make pies and tarts. I've already begun planning my Holiday cookie extravaganza, and have picked out what cards we will send.

Perhaps I really am finally growing up. I finally don't associate summer with freedom and play. This summer has been the hardest when it comes to my job, and I know that this hell is scheduled to end in November, so this summer has not been the fun filled days I recall. I am looking forward to things slowing down. To weekends of cooking, and holiday parties and family. To cuddling up with my lovey and the kitties with blankets, hot tea, and a movie. Autumn and Winter are so much slower. I'm beginning to like slower.

Weekend Recovery

This Saturday I didn't have to work so we managed to JAM PACK the weekend with social excitement and homemaking fun. I will spare you the details (imagine... me, sparing details!), but there was much baking (3 dozen scones and 3 dozen individual cheesecakes), driving, friends, kickball, food, beer (water for me thanks), then more driving, friends, ice cream, other alcoholic concoctions, friends, friends, and more friends. And that was just Saturday. Sunday was more about recovering from playing kickball and all of the baking.

And today? I'm back at work, but that kickball recovery... still in full swing. This morning I left the house while Eric crawled back in bed with 3 ice packs. The frozen peas and corn were sacrificed in the name of pain relief.

Man I don't remember kickball hurting this much.

You have one new message

One sends an email to her doctor asking for said doctor to call back so that test results can be discussed. Hooray for doctor for responding within an hour (even though that doctor did not call the number which was requested he call in the email). But the doctor should not leave the diagnosis on a PHONE MESSAGE and then continue to blah blah about one of four treatment options and then say, "...but you haven't had kids yet so that isn't really the best solution, so we should talk more later. "

No really. I really like my doctor because he is very easy to talk to about all those taboo topics, and he is the specialist in "trouble" cases, and even better, he is cool with a mixture of eastern and western medicine (his wife is a practicing Buddhist and they attend retreats together). But this latest set of experiences does not leave me with warm fuzzies. Although, I don't now if any of this experience would give me warm fuzzies independent of the caregiver.

Oh wait I did have warm fuzzies when I had to go in for an ultrasound with a full bladder (I danced my way to the exam room). That was almost like warm fuzzies... more like cramps and an uncomfortable burning sensation, but close. (and yes, the jingle for the over-active bladder drug was thoroughly stuck in my head "Gotta Go, Gotta Go, Gotta Go...")

P.S. The internet is EVIL, and gives me too much information and causes a good deal of anxiety. Although it gives me some good questions to talk to the doctor about, it also gives me scary thoughts.

What to blog about

My blogging buddy Tracy over at The Star Shine Report asked an interesting question today about how "we" decide what we will write about, what is appropriate for our readers, what we want to share about ourselves (political views, etc.).

This is something that I started a post about a few weeks ago but never posted, because it is something that I've been battling with. Do I write for me or those few that might read this?

I started my blog for me. To put my story out there and maybe it will speak to someone else and they might comment or be touched, or feel a sense of not being alone. I also started it as a stress reliever, as a way to get it out. A couple of friends had started blogs, and I had already been reading a few regularly and I loved the feeling of community. I always wanted to keep a journal but never kept it up and the pressure that someone else out there might read it became incentive to write everyday. Plus... I have this personal need for feedback. It's a weakness and one that has become ever taxing.

I admit that through my day I have thoughts of, "That'll make a great topic to post about!". Or "I need to take a picture of THAT for my blog". And then by the time I get to the computer, the passion has waned. I also feel self-conscience in my writing, and feel that I'm whining too much, and that no one will be interested. But then I think back to why I started this thing and wonder why I feel the need to impress, to be liked, and to get comments.

So Tracy, to answer your question. Sometimes I write for me and whatever is going on in my head and heart regardless of my few readers, and sometimes I filter my thoughts or don't post at all. I used to say that I don't talk to anyone about politics or religion because very little good comes of it. In the last few years I have realized that I didn't talk to anyone about it, because I wasn't sure about my own feelings. Now I am fascinated by both, but only rarely do I talk about it and usually its in a very comfortable forum with those that share the same feelings. I still have that awkward pre-teen in me that just wants to be liked and not rock any boats.

The free joy comes to an end

When we moved into the townhouse we had a disagreement about whether or not to install cable TV. We eventually made the compromise of getting it, but I would be the only one to pay for it. Because of this, I decided to just order Basic Cable... that's your basic local channels, plus the shopping channels, a bunch of Spanish language channels and some other random ones way up there on the dial (Dials.. remember TV dials!).

When the cable guy was there installing it, we chatted while he was running cable in the attic. We were talking about computers and telecom stuff and other basic geeky stuff. He was also rather bitter at the cable company with how they contract out the work and then treat the contractors like shit. So as a welcome to your new home gift, he turned on extended basic service for us. That was a $20/month savings.

This week the cable company was doing an audit and discovered their "mistake", and took us back to the basic cable level. I spent about an hour rebooting Tivo and troubleshooting before I realized what had happened. And then I spent an hour reprogramming Tivo and deleting ALL of those shows that we have it record for us that were on the channels we don't get anymore. Sigh.

The next day

Is it over yet?
Can I look?

Yesterday I found that I (like many) had 9-11 overload. I didn't want to post anything about it because I am trying to live without as much fear and worry and feel the need to remember but not dwell, but then I felt guilty to post about something else.... so, I posted nothing. Not exactly the epitome of moving forward.

As the day went on, I avoided the blogs and news sites. I buried my head into work and planning. And soon I forgot.

During my drive to work I had noticed that there was an overpass over the freeway that had about 40 flags on it. When I was driving home, the number of flags had at least doubled and there were many people walking back and forth carrying flags and banners. I admit, I made a comment that I thought those people are taking things a little too far, and thought that they were just doing it to go along with the crowd. But then a few overpasses later, there was just one lone woman waving a flag, and I felt bad for her. Here is this woman, wanting to express her love for her country and to remember, and she's all alone.

I felt bad. I felt like I had lost perspective and had become cynical. I lost the appreciation to live with the freedoms we are given in this country. We are lucky.

So today, I remember.

I'm a WOMAN

Ok, so how many people think I'm crazy? I'm 32 years old, and excited about experiencing PMS. Hell, I'm so freakin' excited that I (sorry Ted and anyone sensitive to TMI), I got my period today. Right when I expected, based on the day I stopped taking birth control.

I know most of you out there who are reading this have had a lifetime of having normal cycles or have successfully gotten pregnant years ago, so this may not sound exciting to you and I completely understand if you don't come back to read again, because clearly I am loony to be excited.

I have been on birth control since I was 15 years old. That is 17 years of not letting my own body determine how to manage its hormones. That is most of my reproductive years not really knowing my own body's rhythm. And for the last 10 or so years, that has been me worried about if my body would be able to come back to "normal" and still know what its supposed to do. Worried that I'm waiting too long to find out if I can carry to term (my mom had a number of miscarriage and then high-risk pregnacies). Always worried.

And on top of not knowing my body... I have felt like I've been in an emotional cloud for a long time, years, perhaps a decade or more. Always freaking out about this or that. Over emotional about any little thing. It became normal. It became me. Drama... that is how many people describe my life. Perhaps, I have had constant PMS for many years. I'm sure my friends may think so. So after having 3 weeks of this amazing calm and feeling of level headedness, I think its so cool to feel the difference of a more emotional day.

Today, I feel the weight of cramps, and the burden of knowing I have something else to think about and deal with for the next week -- hopefully only a week this time-- but my head feels clear again. Right now... I'm not worried. Right now I'm practically frolicking and joyful of the ability to experience life as a woman. (tee hee... I said I'm a woman. My therapist will be so proud).