KirstenL4W

I think I’m getting this in under the wire. So, the topic is Marriage in Real life. Boy, is this ever going to be a short post.

Mister and I were married just about 2 months ago. We are still in that honeymoon phase. Me probably more than him. He says that one of our friends observed that I am totally smitten with him. It is so true, and I am more in love with him now than I was even a couple months ago. That’s my real life marriage. And I plan on doing everything in my power to make sure it stays that way.

At last, the long-awaited post, the one in which I tell you all about my wedding. But first, let’s start with the onslaught of family.

Arrivals

My mom arrived in town the Wednesday prior, so I picked her up from the airport when I got done work. We drove to her hotel and I laughed hysterically at Mom’s passport photo as she was being checked in. We got up to her room, mom started unpacking and showing me the dresses she bought for the dinner and wedding, and we chatted a bit. I called the man who at this point was still FH to see if he wanted to join us for dinner, but as he had a previous commitment couldn’t make it, so Mom and I went to the um, buffet at her hotel (downtown hotels here generally don’t have the best dining selections, but Mom had a coupon). We had a barely palatable meal, then Mom and I parted at the elevators so I could go home and get some rest, since I did have to work the next day.

Thursday was uneventful since I had to work. Friday I was off, and my Dad was coming in, so I spent the morning finishing up some chores around the house and running a few errands before going to get Dad at the airport. He had left early and didn’t eat on the flight, so I figured he’d want lunch. He said he wasn’t too hungry, but quickly agreed that In N Out Burger would be a good choice for lunch. Dad hadn’t been to In N Out yet, since they don’t have any in Massachusetts, but he’s had to listen to me rave about it so I figured it was about time. We had lunch and continued on to his hotel.

(Side note: Google Maps is not always accurate when giving directions to the hotels here in town. For Mom’s hotel, I was thinking I’d valet park, but the directions brought me to a back alley and I ended up self parking. For Dad’s hotel, I don’t even know where I was being led, because his hotel is on Main Street and the directions brought me down a dead-end on 1st Street, 1 block south of where I needed to be.)

Anyway, I dropped Dad off and told him I’d pick him up at that same spot at 6:45 so we could all go to a “Meet the Parents” dinner that FH’s uncle graciously decided to host. On the way back home, I called Mom to tell her when and where I would pick her up. I went home, where FH and I started getting ready for this shindig.

Meet the Parents

This was not getting off to a good start. I took a quick shower to wash the 109°F sweat off my body, got dressed, put on some makeup, actually did something with my hair, and left to pick up my parents. A few miles from the house, I realized I had forgotten something. Something important. My engagement ring had been left on the bathroom counter. I took it off to keep it from getting all lotion-y when I put lotion on my legs, and in my nervous haste forgot to put it back on. I put in a panicked call to FH, who looked for it but said he didn’t see it anywhere and that we would probably have to take the drain apart when we got home later that night. Great. Just what I need - to lose my e-ring the night before my wedding. Just breathe.

I got to the designated meeting spot and saw my Dad right away. My Mom said she’d be waiting with my uncles, who flew in Thursday, but I didn’t see her. I pulled over to wait for Mom and saw my uncles walking towards me, with my mom off by the sidewalk looking around in vain. I greeted my uncles, gave N. the collection of foreign stamps that I am easily able to collect at work, and greeted my Mom, who had finally figured out that I had arrived and came over to where I was.

We drove from downtown Vegas to the Four Seasons, which is in a leafy, semi-hidden area next door to Mandalay Bay. FH’s uncle had chosen Charlie Palmer’s Steakhouse for dinner, so it looked to be a good meal. My folks and I looked to be the first ones there, so we waited in the lobby. FH arrived shortly afterwards, sweating bullets because the air conditioning in his truck just died. Wonderful. No matter, the a/c at the hotel and restaurant worked just fine. Anyway, FH walked in, introductions were done and we chatted for a few minutes before heading into the restaurant, where we met our hosts, FH’s uncle and his wife, and FH’s parents. Introductions, a bit of chit chat, and a little embarrassment.

What’s that? Oh, yes, you heard me right. Right after the introductions and pleasantries, FH made me tell everyone what I called him about on my way over there. So I had to tell my future in-laws how I had misplaced my engagement ring. While I was telling this, FH had taken his keys out of his pocket to give his dad a key to a toolbox he had stored up there. Turns out he had something else on that keychain too. Yes, he found my ring, but faked me out about it. I know him well enough to know that in a situation like that, he wouldn’t let me get off so easy, so I knew it was a possibility that he had found it and hadn’t said anything to me, which is what ended up happening.

We got to our table, and FH’s uncle sat at the head of the table. He instructed me to sit next to him and FH’s mother to sit on the other side, so she was across from me. FH had warned me about this - The Inquisition. This was the first time that FH and I had met each other’s families, and his family wanted to know what sort of woman he was brining in. There were questions about what I did, how long I had lived in Vegas, how we met, my family, and some other topics of conversation. I didn’t feel put on the spot at all, and I didn’t feel that anyone was displeased with me, so I thought it went well, and FH felt the same way. Three hours later, we wrapped things up and said our goodbyes for the evening.

Getting Ready

I swear, I have not had such a good night’s sleep in a very long time. The night before my wedding, I slept a solid 8-9 hours and woke up feeling calm and refreshed. It is definitely the ideal way to start your wedding day. FH and I got up, relaxed a bit, checked some email, and went out to run a few errands. We had to drop the favors off at the reception restaurant, put gas in the car, and we decided to get some lunch while we were out. I think there was some other errand in there, but I can’t remember now. The restaurant told us that our cake had already arrived and that they were ready for us later in the evening.

After our errands, we went back to the house to relax a bit. Quite honestly, I could have used a nap right about then, but time was not on my side. I planned on getting in the shower with plenty of time to dilly dally as I got ready, and though I didn’t have enough time to dilly dally, we weren’t late. FH had to help me get dressed, because I wore a custom-made corset and he’s the only one I know who can lace one properly. I wasn’t worried at all about him seeing me before the wedding - I mean, come on. We live together already.

Once we put on our wedding finery, it was time to go. The camera case, a change of clothes, and a few other incidentals went in the car and we were off to The Little Church of the West.

The Wedding

We arrived at the chapel in my Ford Focus hatchback (excellent wedding transportation, btw, if you are driving yourself and not wearing a full hoop skirt) and saw that my parents and uncles were already there. We quickly said hello and went into the office to register. The thing about Vegas weddings is that there are LOTS of them. I figure there were at least 6 other couples and their parties on the grounds while we were there, and that was a slow day. These chapels are really good at “get ‘em in, get’ em married, get ‘em out.” CTG can back me up on that one! Anyway, they were efficient, patient with a bit of disorganization and some frazzled nerves, and did a great job.

Once we registered and got our flowers, it was back outside to mingle with our friends and family while we waited. People arrived about every 5 minutes, so I think we were able to get everyone introduced. Finally, it was our turn and we were led up around the back of the chapel to take a few pictures before heading in. Everyone went in ahead while I made one last adjustment to my veil and took Dad’s arm.

The music started to play, Kaila, my maid of honor, walked ahead, then it was our turn. I wasn’t as aware of everyone staring at me as I thought I would be. That was probably the single biggest thing freaking me out before the wedding, since I’m not the kind of person who likes everyone staring. But the chapel was small, the walk was short, and before I knew it, it felt like me and the wonderful man I was there to marry. Everyone else seemed to disappear.

The pastor started to talk, and I presume he was making some sort of speech on love and what it meant to join in marriage and all that. I don’t remember. I do remember, however, my groom telling me I had a big booger hanging out of my nose. Then he started flaring his nostrils. If he was trying to keep me from crying, it worked. I had to fight to keep from laughing. He continued on, telling me that Kaila, who was standing behind me, was losing it. I pictured her with her eyes all red and puffy and trying to keep from bawling. It was hard to keep my composure.

Finally we got to the vows. My groom deliberately appeared to be thinking this decision over before answering, which was quite funny because he reacted to every line with a different “thinking” face. I didn’t have to think about it at all and answered very quickly. Then the rings, which was relatively uneventful except mine didn’t slip on as easily because my fingers swell in the heat. Then it was done. The pastor announced us husband and wife, and I got a quick peck on the lips. Mister got chided for that, and after a bit of protesting that he wanted more privacy for anything more risqué, he gave me a longer kiss and everyone clapped.

Introducing Mr. and Mrs. KirstenL4W!

Woohoo! We’re married! Ok, for the purposed of this blog and Mister’s privacy I announced it that way, but I’m a traditional girl and I am taking his name. I mean, I got to move up the alphabet, right?

Anyway, immediately after the ceremony the chapel people kicked all the guests out except for the wedding party so they could take pictures. A few pics with the wedding party, and they our attendants were given the boot too. The photographer does dozens of these things a day, so he knew exactly what poses to do and how to get it done quickly. I only blinked in one! Mister hates having his picture taken or shown, but he graciously agreed to let me show you one, so this is all you get:

The Reception

After the wedding, we were having a reception at one of our favorite restaurants, an authentic New York style Italian neighborhood restaurant. All the guests got postcards with the directions, so we headed out. By the time we got there, a few of our friends had already arrived, and more and more people were arriving. In all we had about 30 people in attendance, which I think is big enough to have a proper party but small enough to keep it intimate. We also cut out a lot, like the dorky dances and throwing the bouquet, but I did toss the bouquet to a friend of ours who is planning a wedding for late next year.

We decided to do the cake and toast part before the meal, since it was getting late and we knew that some people had early flights out the next morning. Tom, the owner of the restaurant, brought our cake out and made sure that everyone had champagne. Tor, the best man, made a lovely toast, then Mister and I fed each other a bite of cake. No cake smashed in the face for us, we were going to be civil about this. Oh, and the cake? It was gorgeous, and topped by an awesome topper made by my friend Pollyhyper (yes, she does custom orders)

After the cake, everyone ordered dinner and Mister and I tried to divide our time between everyone, but even with a tiny reception of only 30 people, it was hard to give everyone an equal amount of attention. In the end, it all went very well and we were very tired by the time it was over! I got a lot of comments on how much my mom can talk (she has a blog, and it would be great if she could type as much as she talks) and how wonderful everything was. Mister and I then got home and totally collapsed in bed.

So there ya go - my wedding story. These are the only pictures that are public, at Mister’s request, so you have to be on my Flickr friends list to see the rest, and I don’t friend just anyone. You can always send me a request and see if I reciprocate, just let me know who you are. My fingers are tired now, so enjoy.

In 10 days, I will be married.

I probably won’t be around much until after the wedding.  Those of you who have been through this before will know how busy I am.

When I was younger, I always used to wish that I would fall in love with someone from the moment I first saw him. It always happens in the movies, and includes the schmaltzy music and the first glance in which the two lovers have an epiphany and realize that they need to be together. But real life is not like the movies. There is no such thing as love at first sight - is there?

Future Husband and I were first introduced by a mutual friend. This friend had dated FH for a short time, and though it didn’t work, they stayed friends. The two of us were out one night when she suggested that he and I get together. I said sure, set it up - give him my MySpace or something. She did that, and we emailed a few times but then it faded out. I’m not much for trying to impress someone by email. Though I write well, the “getting to know you” part just doesn’t do well in writing. It faded out after a few emails, and I wrote it off. But he never had his picture on his MySpace (at least not until after we met).

A couple of months later, I was out meeting with a social group when I saw someone who caught my eye. I was introduced to him by another woman there, and we exchanged hellos. That night I was really not in the mood to be out at all, and was debating going home. During my internal debate, I walked around the room, trying to decide if I should just go or try and talk to this person. FH later described it as “circling like a buzzard.” Finally, he got tired of it and came up to me to talk. “So we finally get to meet,” he said. Huh? I didn’t think I should know him, and we were just introduced a short time ago. “The emails.” Oh no, I had never emailed him. Had I? I think I would remember. “MySpace? Miss A tried to set us up.”

Now I remembered. All of a sudden I was shocked, intrigued, panicked, fascinated, wanting to run out of there and wanting to talk more all at the same time. Talking to him came easy, now that he was in front of me, so I did that. We talked until 2am and made plans to meet the next day. We met the next day, and the next. The 4th day it was Monday, and he had a business trip that would have him out of town until Friday. Friday could not come soon enough! I so went over the minutes on my phone that week. Finally, when Friday arrived, I rushed over to his place after work. We went out, and I spent the night. Actually, I never again spent another night in my own apartment, and ended up moving in, which was fine since the lease was just about up anyway.

I don’t remember what music was playing exactly (some kind of bar music), and there was no starry-eyed first look, but I was drawn to him the first minute I saw him. I circled like a lion circles its prey. In just over 3 months from now, he will become MisterL4W. It was love at first sight.

I have barely slept all week - I’m still really excited! I feel like Monica in Friends. Remember this clip? That’s me, and it’s not even my wedding day yet.

So loose plans are made. There are a whole bunch of Silly Little Game friends coming to town the weekend of June 21, so we’re gonna do it that weekend - Vegas chapel or something like that, then an informal dinner/reception somewhere. Since our families are on opposite coasts, and very few of them are keen on the idea of traveling to Vegas (especially in summer!), we’re gonna take the show on the road. We’ll spend a long weekend in California to see his family sometime this summer, and then since Future Husband (formerly known as Boyfriend) has never been to New England and really wants to see it in the fall, we’ll visit my family sometime around late September/early October. This way, everyone who wants to gets to see us gets to without having to travel, except for a few people who live away from family hubs. And we figured it would be good because that way the families can plan a party or something for us while we’re visiting, which will satisfy their need to get involved without actually interfering - specifically my mother and his mother.

I want to wear something I’ll wear again, but not an everyday dress, so I’ll probably get a white skirt that I will end up dying black when it’s all said and done, and nice overbust corsert for the top. We’ve decided on black and white for colors, very classy, and of course tiny jolts of red thrown in there. So note to all those who are coming: wear black and white, and if you want you can punctuate it with red, but not that orangey red, pick something like scarlet or claret.

As for the rest of the details, we (meaning I) are trying to come up with things that are unique, but not so out there that they will be off-putting to everyone else. Stay tuned for more news on this developing story…

(For those who missed it, the wedding is the weekend of June 21 - exact date still unknown, but plan for June 21. If you are out of town and live in a place that will be featured on our wedding tour, mainly San Jose, CA or Manchester, NH, don’t think that you can’t come. You are still welcome at the Vegas wedding. Just let us know that you plan on attending, and No, you cannot stay at our house. There are plenty of roomier options with privacy included in this town.)

Announce your engagement. Seriously, I go and mention to a few friends that I am getting married, and my traffic skyrockets. Check this out:

I had 139 views on 3/10/08, which since my blog stats day is 8 hours ahead of my day, was the day I announced my engagement. My previous high traffic was 91 views, a couple days after I made the move to WordPress back in January. So yay, great news! I wonder if I can maintain this level of traffic as I get closer to the wedding date?

Boyfriend and I went out this afternoon. We were going to meet a realtor because we are looking to buy a house. We met at a home we had seen online, and it was a bit of a dump. But had it been a lot nicer we might have been interested, because the layout was more or less decent. The realtor has an idea of what we are lookng for, and she’ll be selecting some properties for us to look at next weekend.

After looking at this house, we were heading out to get some lunch. It was absolutely gorgeous out today, so we weren’t picky about cuisine. I wanted to eat somewhere that had an outside patio, but I couldn’t think of anything. Boyfriend suggested the pub near the airport. There’s an outside patio that overlooks the runways, and even though the service usually sucks, we enjoy it because we get to watch planes.

On the way there, Boyfriend started telling me that he’s been thinking a lot lately. He said that every so often something happens that makes one change their mind on something they thought they were sure of. Gee, a conversation like that can go in several different directions. But he started talking about how we have been together for just about a year now, and that we are looking at buying a house together, and that he was thinking that he’d like to marry me. Or something like that, I don’t remember the exact words. Of course I said yes. He said, “Yes what?” I said, “Yes, I’d like to get married.” He said, “Ok, so we need to find some guy for you to marry!” Then I said, “Yes, I’d like to marry YOU!” Of course I cried and did the waving my hand thing that girls do when they’re so excited they’re crying, and Boyfriend couldn’t understand why I was crying, cuz he’s a guy and guys don’t do that sort of thing.

He didn’t have a ring, because with my tiny little fingers he wasn’t sure what would fit or look good on my hand, and I’ll be honest, it doesn’t take much to overwhelm my long, slim fingers. So after lunch we went to the jewelry store and picked out this:

Isn’t it pretty? I wanted something somewhat simple but not plain, and I was really liking the idea of a gemstone rather than a diamond. Plus the setting for the stone doesn’t stick out too high, so it won’t get in the way. We haven’t made any plans yet, but we have an idea of what we want.

I called my mother to tell her, and Mommy had to make sure that I said that I am GETTING married, not GOT married (I do live in Vegas, you know). Then I called my dad, and he said congrats. I talked to my nephew, who said, “That sounds good.” After that I called my sister, who asked if I was going to wear a white dress or not try and fool anyone and wear something else. Silly Sis.

So that’s the news for now. I need to figure out what to eat for dinner since the time change threw me off and I didn’t realize it was so late! I’ll keep you all posted on the plans.

I still hold my stance that romance should happen every day, not just on a designated day. But I did have to do something special for Boyfriend; it was simple, inexpensive, and really didn’t require a lot of imagination. I went to the craft store and bought 3 packages of red heart-shaped paper doilies - three different sizes. Then I bought some stickers with various sentiments on them and applied them to some of the doilies. This morning I woke up early on time and sprinkled them in various places. Most of them ended up all around his computer, chair, and the floor area around his desk, but they were also on the tv, battery for his truck (it was in the house to be charged), mirror, the underside of the toilet lid, the wall behind his towel, in the shower, medicine cabinet, kitchen cabinet, fridge, microwave, dishwasher, underwear drawer, and on the hanger that his shirt is hanging on. He liked it.

I get the distinct feeling that Boyfriend has something up his sleeve for me, but I have no idea what it might be. He’s been asking really vague questions lately that have to do with all sorts of romantic topics, so I know the little hampster in his head is spinning away on that wheel. I’ll let you know later if there’s anything to report. Dinner, though, is out of the question - it’s our regular Thursday night oil change lactose event.

Happy Valentine’s Day!!

Edited at around 6pm:  Boyfriend decided to go the traditional route, since I never really had that before.  He got me a super sweet card, a mini rose potted plant (lasts longer), and a shiny heart shaped box filled with Hershey chocolate truffles, because he remembered that I said Hershey chocolate is one of my favorites.  Then he kissed me and hugged me until I had to pee. 

Valentine’s Day is coming up. Having been single for pretty much every Valentine’s Day until now, I’ve come to expect absolutely nothing on this day. It is a day full of expectations - more so than any other day. We expect that it will be the most romantic day of the year. We expect “romantic” gifts from our partners - flowers, a fancy dinner (usually at a fancy restaurant), candy, jewelry, lingerie, and of course a big fancy card gushing with romantic sentiments. Anything red or pink does the trick if you are a gift buying dunce. Personally, pink is so not my color.

I suppose my single status for so long has jaded me. I just can’t get into it. Not only is there the expectation of gifts, this holiday tells you how you are supposed to feel and express those feelings. See, I don’t like being told how to feel or what to say. Of course, I do love Boyfriend. I just don’t like a card company telling me how I have to express that. I want to express it in my own way. I don’t want to make him take me out to eat. (The owner of a restaurant we frequent calls Valentine’s Day “Amateur Night”) I don’t want him to feel that I love him any less, or that I feel he doesn’t love me enough, if he doesn’t go all out with the aforementioned dinner, flowers, chocolates, etc. You just can’t manufacture romance like that and save it all up for one big night of showmanship.

I was telling Boyfriend earlier this evening about one of the most romantic things I’ve seen. I was over my aunt and uncle’s house, and my aunt had gone up the street to fetch one of my cousins. While she was gone, my uncle carried on with some housekeeping. My aunt returned to find that my uncle had emptied the dishwasher, putting away all the clean dishes. My aunt was ecstatic! That is one of her least favorite chores to do, and seeing that my uncle had done that for her totally made her day. She threw her arms around him and showered him with hugs and kisses, thanking him profusely for doing this mundane chore. That, to me, is romantic. Romance is the little things that all add up to reaffirm and strengthen the love two people have for each other.

To the casual observer, it might seem that Boyfriend and I live a very boring life. I won’t kid you, it’s not one exciting adventure after another. We have jobs to go to and other obligations that keep life so very ordinary. But there are things that we do that I’d consider romantic. Take right now, for example. I am on the sofa, feet up, laptop in my lap, tv on, blogging while Boyfriend is sitting at his desk playing WOW. He has his headset on so he can chat with the guild and listen to their inane conversations. Yet every 10 minutes or so, he will take the time to look over, exchange our silly little greeting, and tell me that he loves me. Sometimes he even starts making kissy faces at me so that I have to get up, go over to him, and kiss him. It’s not a chore, so don’t read that as if it were. It keeps us connected while we are each in our own little virtual world. And he NEVER minds it if I come up to him out of the blue and throw my arms around him. That’s romantic. I don’t need all the fancy stuff - flowers die, chocolate makes me fat, restaurants are crowded and service sucks on that day, cards get forgotten, and lingerie doesn’t matter because it just gets ripped off. Save the money and show me you love me in your own unique way. But don’t worry. I won’t be a total cynic and blow the holiday off completely.

Enjoy your Valentine’s Day, and this classic sonnet from Elizabeth Barrett Browning:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Boyfriend returned on time Friday afternoon - actually about 10 minutes early. I was able to watch his plane land, because McCarran International Airport, the big airport with all the slot machines that is the first part of the Vegas experience for millions of tourists every year, has an observation parking lot. I’d show you on a map, but I’m not feeling very technologically savvy this evening, so I’ll tell you how to find it.

For locals:
Drive in either direction on Sunset Rd past the airport - that would be the 3-mile section between Las Vegas Blvd. and Eastern Ave. There’s only one place on the runway side of the road that you can stop at. It’s a parking lot near PT’s Pub. That’s the place I’m talking about.

For map geeks:
Go to your favorite mapping program. Search for Las Vegas Airport. Scroll around until you find the road that runs parallel to the two runways that run horizontally across your screen. That road is Sunset Rd. (BTW, this is best done in the hybrid map/satellite view.) Now, look for Escondido Street - it runs perpendicular to Sunset. Almost directly across from Escondido is a parking lot that has one long row of cars. That’s the place you’re looking for.

For airport geeks:
You can look up a map of the airport at AirNav - the airport code for Las Vegas is KLAS. Locate the 7/25 runways. You can’t see the surrounding streets on the map, but just south of the 7/25 runways, directly lined up with the A3 taxiway is the parking. Good view, eh?

So, what’s so great about looking at planes come and go?

I know some of you out there are avid plane spotters, so this is a great place to see planes close up, with only a chain-link fence to impede your view. But wait, there’s more! The tower, the one that controls takeoffs and landings on the 7/25 runways, lets you listen! They have a sign posted on the fence of that parking lot that tells you what station to tune your radio to so you can listen. It changes every now and then due to stronger signals from radio stations, but currently it’s at 101.1. You super plane geeks can determine which one of the many controllers that is from the AirNav page.

So, after my abbreviated work day (I overslept big time) and our company picnic (see, I said abbreviated!) I headed over to the parking lot and turned on the radio. I only had one thing to listen for - Boyfriend’s airline and flight number. Soon enough, I heard it. All flights coming in announce themselves, so it’s easy if you’re paying attention. I got to see Boyfriend’s flight land, taxi off the runway and all the way around the D Gates, where it disappeared from view, but only because I don’t have X-ray vision to see through the building. The gate was on the other side. But, I figured that by the time it made it to the gate, I should leave the parking lot and mosey on to the passenger pick-up area. Boyfriend still had a way to go - the 20 minute mad rush to deplane, a long walk through the terminal, a nice little tram ride, then utter chaos going through the baggage claim area towards passenger pick-up. I had plenty of time.

I got to passenger pick-up and cruised around a bit, keeping an eye out for Boyfriend. He’s pretty easy to spot. Not seeing him, and getting irritated with all the maroons driving around the parking area, I found myself a spot and walked over to the crosswalk. A quick phone call to Boyfriend revealed that he was just walking past the masses and heading towards the door, so I’d be able to see him in just a minute or two. I waited (im)patiently at the crosswalk until I was finally able to see him. Oh Happy Day!! I was thrilled to bits to have him back, and Boyfriend revealed how much he missed me too. (Awwww!) He said there was a woman sitting in the row in front of him who had hair similar to mine in color, cut, and even the amount of curl in it. He said it was tough to look at because he missed me so much. Isn’t he sweet? He’s gonna read this and get mad at me for making him out to be such a sap. Really, he’s not. He just blurts out “I love you” many times at random during the day and when I’m in another part of the house doing chores or blogging or something, he’ll come in just to give me a hug. Totally sweet, despite the very intimidating exterior.

So that’s it, Boyfriend’s back and we spent a very boring weekend doing nothing except enjoying each other’s company. And we are both very glad that we are not apart right now. Sappy, I know. Get used to it.

I used to be the epitome of independence. I did what I wanted, when I wanted. I celebrated being able to eat ice cream in my jammies and watch whatever I wanted on tv. I loved that I could come home and not have to deal with anyone else’s crap. I slept in the middle of a queen-sized bed. I had my girl beauty crap all over the bathroom and never worried about whether the toilet seat was up or down. And I did it by myself, without help. Even when the toilet overflowed or I needed something heavy moved. Anyone who’s ever lived alone as a single person knows what I’m talking about.

Because of the difficulty I had living with someone, or as I liked to call it, “preferring to live alone”, my old roommate told me that I would never be able to have a successful relationship. I told her that I lived with her out of financial necessity, not because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. And just because she annoyed the hell out of me didn’t mean that every single person on the planet would meet the same fate should the ever live with me.

Enter Boyfriend. We hit it off right away, I moved in even though I was scared about that big step. Even then, I held back, and my fear of being heartbroken manifested itself in my thinking that I needed to go home to the east coast, and that I wasn’t cut out for being in a relationship. Boyfriend was patient and helped me through that. Now, things are blissful. Seriously blissful. So blissful that it would make you sick if I started describing in detail how happy I am with Boyfriend. And though it may seem like I’m pouting about him being on his business trip and away from me, I find myself lost without him. Case in point: this morning I overslept for work. He doesn’t get me up for work, in fact he’s still snoring away when I leave in the morning. But rather than not wanting my alarm to wake him, I thought I’d take advantage of not having to be courteous in the morning and hit the snooze button. Except the snooze button was too busy snoozing and I ended up being 45 minutes late for work. So by not having him here, not having anyone that I want to be courteous for and not disturb, I overslept for work.

I’m not a totally inept co-dependent now. I just feel that without him here with me, a major part is missing. The bed is too big. The apartment is too quiet. It’s not right. Before I met him, I pretty much had myself convinced that I was going to be the little old woman who always lived independently. At least I didn’t have a cat, because that lonely old woman was not me. Being part of a pair is. Boyfriend comes home tomorrow, and I will feel complete again.

Thursday was Boyfriend’s birthday. He thinks he’s old, but really, he’s not, so he just needs to get over that. Anyway, I was absolutely forbidden to tell any of our friends that his birthday was coming up. He did not want a big deal made and did not want to be surprised. Well, I got around that, and without breaking any laws that he set for me. Hahahahahahahaha!

I may have mentioned that Boyfriend’s ex-gf was instrumental in getting us together. We are all friends, so that made it easy to plan things behind his back. A little over a month ago, we were all at a party and I had some time to chat with her. I asked her if she knew when Boyfriend’s birthday was, and she gave me the date, so I knew she had the right answer. I then told her that I was under no circumstances allowed to tell anyone about it. She got that ear-to-ear shit-eating grin on her face and said she had it covered. Ha! Now I was able to make a big deal about it without breaking any rules or doing much of anything in the way of planning. I knew the rest of our friends would run away with it, because that’s the kind of pals they are.

As for a more private celebration, I new there had to be a gift. I had a few ideas of what to get him, but wasn’t having much luck finding what I wanted. No worries, it still leaves me ideas for the holidays. Anyway, I was just checking one last store at the mall when I found a Pouring Shield for the Kitchen-Aid mixer. Boyfriend has a Kitchen-Aid, which if any of you have used one is the greatest stand mixer ever. Boyfriend likes to bake, but makes a horrible mess because food is always flying out of the bowl. The pouring shield prevents this, so his gift ended up being one of those utilitarian things that makes (my) life easier. (I’m the one who does the cleaning, but let me tell you, cleaning up last night after he made cookies was much less of an ordeal than cleaning up after he made pie a few weeks ago.)

Now don’t go thinking that I’m the kind of girlfriend who gifts The Greatest Boyfriend of All Time with a little hunk of plastic and calls it good. Oh, no. No, the next part of his gift was designed to make him deliriously happy. Since they say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, I took him out for dinner.

Before I go any further, let me tell you a few things about Boyfriend and me. I am from New England - suburban, bordering on rural. Adventurous eating is something that is just not done where I come from. I have an aunt and uncle who travel quite a bit and they eat weird stuff when they travel, and my step dad is known in the family to be a human garbage disposal. But other than that, our diets are really quite basic - the All-American, 1950’s Betty Crocker cookbook kinds of diets. Boyfriend, on the other hand, is from California. He eats weird stuff like avocados and sushi and other weird California stuff. So finding a happy medium is not always easy when either one of us is craving food from our respective back home area. Boyfriend thinks I don’t try enough new things (read: stuff he likes), but he’s slowly coming to the realization that I am one of the most adventurous eaters in my family and is starting to cut me some slack.

Back to dinner out. In the ultimate sacrifice of making my man happy on his birthday, I decided that I was going to choke down a piece of fish bait take him out for sushi. Boyfriend loves sushi, whereas I, coming from Massachusetts in particular, believe that there are only 2 ways to eat fish: beer-battered, deep fried and covered in ketchup, or baked/broiled/fried with lots of breadcrumbs and butter on the top. Either way it is served with a potato of some sort - either fries or baked/mashed. But do note that the fish is COOKED in both circumstances. Cooked in normal ingredients. Sushi, as most of you probably know, is raw fish wrapped in rice and seaweed and stuffed with other weird stuff like avocado, which seems to be in every freaking different kind of sushi there is. But no matter, it was going to make him happy for me to try it, so that is what I was going to do.

I was going to do a bit of a fake out on him by parking in the Red Lobster parking lot, which is next door to the fish bait sushi place that Boyfriend has mentioned. But before we got there, he figured it out, so dammit, fake-out cancelled. No matter. I had already done some reconnaissance on the place and saw that they had teriyaki bowls, so I would still have something to eat. We got there, sat down, and Boyfriend started going over the menu with me. There are some varieties that have cooked seafood in them, which was good since I am still completely repulsed by the thought of eating raw seafood. To me it’s on par with eating raw chicken or pork, so that was a no-go. Boyfriend selected some with cooked crab in it. Not a huge fan of crab on its own, but I suppose if I had committed to this, then that was it.

Let me tell you something else about sushi. When it arrives at your table, it is cut into bit-sized pieces. Well, bite-sized if you have a ginormous mouth like say, Julia Roberts, or you have a flip-top head like that cartoon guy in the Reach Toothbrush commercial. I do not have a huge mouth (no comments from the peanut gallery, please. I am talking about physical size here.) When I was getting braces on at the ripe old age of 16, I had to have not only my 4 wisdom teeth pulled, but also all 4 of my first bicuspids removed to make it all fit properly. My mouth is small. Individual pieces of sushi are not. They are not dainty, like the tiny 1-inch petit-fours you see on fancy dessert plates. No, they are huge 2-inch diameter rolls that are 1-inch high. How does one delicately shove it all in their mouth at one time? I didn’t want to appear that I was spewing sushi all over the table for any reason. I wanted to be polite and eat it all and actually have it go down. The giant piece was not going to do, so I cut it in half. I put it on my fork (because by now it would have fallen apart had I attempted to use chopsticks), and held it in front of my face for about 10 minutes before I finally got up the nerve to just shove it in.

It was not terrible. It wasn’t great, either. The crab meat was a bit overwhelming, and the rest of it didn’t leave much of an impression on me either way. Boyfriend had a look on his face that was mostly amused and of course totally in love with me for doing this for him. I finished chewing it and chased it with large amounts of Diet Coke, and ate some teriyaki, which, by the way, was really not that good. After a short time I finally got up the nerve to try the other half. This one didn’t have as much crab meat in it, so I thought it would be easier, but no, I was wrong. This one had a giant blob of cream cheese in it. Have I mentioned that I hate cream cheese? So this piece was worse because of that vile, tangy substance gluing itself to the deepest reaches of my mouth and refusing to budge. A refill on my Diet Coke finally fixed that.

The rest of the evening was really awesome, since it was more natural and I really had nothing to do with it (other than putting the pieces in place that allowed the cat to let itself out of the bag). We met our friends at our usual Thursday night gathering. There were a lot more people there than usual, and the vibe was really great, which is just not something that can be planned. One of our friends brought a cake, a delicious black forest cake, and we talked and laughed and had a great time. I really couldn’t have done a better job, because like I said, the vibe of the evening was really natural. On the way home I told Boyfriend how I got Ms. X in on it, and he was quite impressed with my sneaky, devious nature while still following his wishes.

So that was it - I ate sushi, and it wasn’t terrible. Boyfriend thinks I like it, because he says my face gave me away. I wouldn’t go that far. I might try it again, perhaps in a better quality place that has really good teriyaki, but I can assure you, like all Asian and Asian-inspired foods, it will not be something that I crave. But I ate it, and I did it because I love my Boyfriend and wanted him to have the bestest birthday ever. I don’t know if it was the best birthday ever, but he did say that it was a very good birthday, so mission accomplished.

Boyfriend and I went to San Francisco this past weekend. I’d been there before, but it was over 10 years ago and I had a really bad cold, which I got the day after I got there. This time was a much shorter trip, but I wasn’t dead tired from being sick. We met up with some of Boyfriend’s friends (he grew up there, and knows people) so it was nice to be social too.

Highlights:

Driving through San Mateo county and seeing the redwoods, ocean, and this place (I had some sort of weird fascination with getting my picture taken next to a sign)

Lunch in Haight-Ashbury

A bit of shopping and socializing with some of Boyfriend’s friends

Dinner in North Beach

Driving over the Golden Gate Bridge

Watching the fog roll in along the coast (and boy, does it ever roll!)

Driving through Santa Cruz, a place that Boyfriend wouldn’t mind living in if money were no object

Driving home over the Sierras

Taking lots of pictures with Boyfriend’s awesome camera that hopefully are still there because the number of photos taken seemed to go down. I sure hope that the card didn’t fill up and decide to start erasing random pictures, because we got some really great shots.

Assuming that the pictures didn’t disappear on us, I hope to be able to post some one of these years. We didn’t get back home until 2am this morning, and right now there’s a lot of caffeine in the fridge calling my name. The best thing about this impromptu trip that Boyfriend brought up was that we were so in-your-face together since we left early Friday afternoon until I went to work this morning, and we didn’t bicker at all. We talked a lot over 1500 miles of driving, and saw me out of my element as he toured his old stomping grounds and visited with old friends, and we didn’t even want to be away from each other for a minute - not even now that we are home. And that was the best part of the trip.

Picture not mine - I found it on the internet somewhere. 

“Anything I’ve ever done that ultimately was worthwhile…initially scared me to death.” - Betty Bender

There’s something that’s been weighing on my mind lately. Last night, I went to my apartment to get some packing done, but also to have a chance to be alone with my thoughts. I love Boyfriend and I love spending time with him, and I really do want to spend every minute of the day with him. But I am one who also needs some alone time, and I’ve been forgetting about that until it gets to a point where it becomes a critical need. So I went to my apartment last night, packed, wrote in my journal, cried, packed some more, and watched some TV that I had saved on my DVR.

Yes, I cried. Not because I am upset at all about the decision to move in with Boyfriend. I’m not, but I will admit to this: I am scared. Yes, that’s right. Scared. I said previously that I have never lived with anyone in this capacity before. My entire adult life I have spent carving out a place for myself, learning not to rely on anyone and creating a comfortable place for myself. I grew so comfortable with my aloneness (not to be confused with loneliness) that in the past few years, I shunned all efforts to find myself a partner. I was not lonely. I have friends, companions, and I made sure that I had everything that I needed. The only thing I did not do to confirm my impending spinsterhood was to get a cat. I was actually worried that being on my own and alone for so long may have messed up my chances for ever being able to have a successful relationship. Yes, my thoughts ran away from me and I actually got to thinking that perhaps I was meant to be alone.

So now, here I am today, on the verge of living with a wonderful man for a very, very long time, and it’s got me scared sh!tless. There are so many things that I need to adjust to, so many habits to relearn, so many attitudes to change if I want to make this work. When I got home last night I broke down and cried again. This has been bogging down my mind for the last few days, and I really debated on whether or not to tell him. I didn’t want it to be taken the wrong way, and I still needed to sit on it a little bit to sort it out in my head and to articulate my feelings properly. But I finally decided that telling him was best. And do you know what? He is having the same feelings. He’s also grown used to having his own space, having things his way, and doing things for himself. His fears are very similar to mine. He just keeps it together so much better than I do.

I am in the middle of a lot of upheaval right now. My apartment is half packed up, and I haven’t spent the night at home in a month. I still only have the basics at Boyfriend’s house - enough clothing for a little over a week, and some toiletries. So it’s not yet been transformed into our space. Living like that for so long now has got me - a person with a seemingly insatiable need for alone time and private space - really freaked out. But I will get through, and this will be so worth it. I’m really happy that the Boyfriend is the kind of person that I can talk through this sort of thing with.

It’s spring, my lease is up in 23 days, and I’m never at my apartment anymore. So, it’s time to move. This spring brings a first for me - I’m moving in with Boyfriend. I’ve never lived with anyone in this capacity before. I’ve had roommates, but that was purely out of financial necessity, and given a choice between a roommate and living alone, I’d rather be alone. But, since I’ve been over at Boyfriend’s house pretty much since we met, stopping at my apartment only to pick up more clothes and toiletries and check the mail, we decided that me moving in would be best.

Now, why his place over mine? Well, here’s a comparison:

His Place: Is gated Has a separate bedroom Is closer to both our workplaces Has a washer/dryer in the unit Is newer and therefore in better condition Is closer to the freeway Is quiet

My Place: Isn’t gated Has ghetto birds flying around at night Is on the other side of town from our offices Is only one single room (aka studio apartment) Is older, so I am very good friends with Juan, our maintenance man

So, it made more sense to move me there than the other way around. Now we have just over three weeks to pack my stuff up and figure out where it’s all going to go. Each of us on our own has enough stuff to fill that apartment, so I imagine some compromises will have to be made. But I am a very organized person, and I am confident that I will be able to come up with something to fit it all in without too much being stored in the garage or getting donated.

I do have to admit, though, that the next few weeks until we get all my stuff settled in will be a bit trying. I’ve been living with only the bare minimum of my own possessions, and I can make do on that, but eventually I will have them all again. I also have the feeling that I’ll be able to shed some of my stuff rather painlessly. I do miss my kitchen stuff (one area of our apartment that is in dire need of reorganization) and more of my clothing, even though very little of it fits at the moment (it will again, and hopefully soon). What I really miss is my “office” area - my computer, desk, files, books, music, and all the other things that I like to do. That I think should be a top priority, getting my desk set up.

This is definitely an adventure. I’m in my 30s, and like I said, I’ve never lived with someone in this capacity. We’ve already talked a lot about this change, how we feel about it and on a more practical level, so I’m confident we will be able to get through this on continue on with our relationship, which so far has been absolutely wonderful.

And, friends and family, you’ll be getting address updates soon. My phone number and email address will not be changing, so I’m always reachable that way.

One can only hope. After a hectic week and weekend, things should be settling down a bit. I have not had much time alone with Boyfriend since we got together. First he was away on business and this past week, along with the weekends that bookend the week, for a grand total of 10 days, he has had house guests from out of town. Add to that all the things we had going on this week - my concert, his concert, a mutual friend’s birthday, etc., and we are exhausted. It will be so nice to sit and do nothing together tonight. And, there is the strong possibility for thunderstorms forecast for today, so sitting with his arms around me during a thunderstorm will be even better.

Despite all the busyness, guests and crazy schedules, things have been going very, very well with Boyfriend. And that’s all I have to say about that.

I went to see Chantal Kreviazuk tonite. She wasn’t touring on her own, but opening for Five for Fighting, but that doesn’t bother me. The ticket price was reasonable, so going to see her for a half hour set was very worth it. She played a few familiar songs, including the one you see above, and then played some songs from her new album, Ghost Stories, and the best thing is that I got to meet her after the show and get it autographed.

Actually, I lied. My boyfriend was dropping me off at Mandalay Bay to see that I got into the venue ok. Then, as I was being my boring old self standing there at the House of Blues all by myself waiting for the concert to start, I was checking the time on my cell phone and saw that there was a voice mail. I called Boyfriend back and he told me to go to the stairs by the bathroom. So I do, and there he is. He bought a ticket to see the show with me because he knew how much I enjoy Chantal’s music. Now is that the sweetest thing ever or what? He did enjoy the show, and said that she is a very good performer, even though generally that’s not his style. He’ll be back at HOB tomorrow night for the Type O Negative concert, which I will not go because loud raucous music is not for me, especially in concert. I’m just not into crowd surfing, ya know?

So I just had to type up this post and 1. share Chantal’s music with everyone and 2. let you all know that I have the Best. Boyfriend. Ever.

So there.

You’re sweet as green apples, you must be the one

Ok, so you probably know by now that I have a new boyfriend. He is absolutely wonderful. No need to go into details, really. I just don’t feel like getting intellectual about it. We were talking last night and I think it was he who said (I can’t remember exactly because we were talking about deep stuff and we both feel the same way) that it feels like we’ve known each other forever. And you know what? He’s right, we have known each other forever. I was beginning to think that he was just all in my head, but he was real, out there somewhere, so yeah, we have known each other forever.

One of my favorite singers, Chantal Kreviazuk, (who I’m going to see in concert Wednesday night when she opens for Five for Fighting, who I am not going to see) has a song called Green Apples. In it she sings of a love, and compares him to all the sweet and comforting things that can be found in everyday life.

You’re toast and jam
And you are cotton candy
You’re double rainbows
Beside a settin’ sun
You’re wood burnin’ outside
There’s a fire glowin’
You’re sweet as green apples
You must be the one

You bring me
To the heart of a golden man
You bring me
To the natural truth
You take me
To the solid hollow
And keep me sailing
This ocean of youth

That’s why you’re toast and jam
And you are cotton candy
You’re double rainbows
Beside a setttin’ sun
You’re wood bunin’ outside
There’s a fire glowin’
You’re sweet as green apples
You must be the one

So take me to an altar of diamonds
And run with me through sheets of jungle rain
Show me all your manly mystery
And let me heal your beautiful pain

Be my island in crowds of faces
My oasis
Be there

And lead me to the holy water
And introduce me to the place you are from
Wherever you go you know I will follow
So take me there and I will come
I will come

You’re toast and jam
And you are cotton candy
You’re double rainbows
Beside a settin’ sun
You’re wood burnin’ outside
There’s a, a fire glowin’
You’re my sweet green apples
You must be the one

I’m sayin’ you’re toast and jam
And you are cotton candy
You’re double rainbows
Beside a settin’ sun
You’re wood burnin’ outside
There’s a fire glowin’
You’re sweet as green apples
You must be the one
You’re sweet as green apples
You must be the one

Sweet as green apples
You must be the one

Kirsten took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test!“Seeks the determination and elasticity of will nec…” Click here to read the rest of the results.

Ok, not the most scientific of tests, but it’s not way off base either. I took this based on Gem’s recommendation.Valentine’s Day was uneventful for me. I had 2 job interviews, one of which looks fairly promising, then I headed to work at security firm. I was supposed to be catching up on payroll stuff, but ended up doing dispatch pretty much all night. T-Bone just can’t seem to multi-task well, so when it comes to multiple phone calls, or the phone and radio at the same time, he can’t handle it. My need to make sure the job gets done means that I just start picking up the phone and the radio when I’m there and taking over. Anyway, T-Bone ended up having a family situation which necessitated his leaving, so I became the one and only dispatcher for the rest of the night, which put me even further behind on payroll. But I was able to get caught up on it tonite, which is good. Tomorrow I’ll finish out the week so I won’t have to go in at all during the weekend. I’m really starting to hate that work is all I ever do, and let me tell you how much working evenings sucks. I feel so isolated from my friends and the rest of my life. I absolutely have to get back to a regular day schedule. I’m much happier that way.

Getting back to Valentine’s Day. I’ve had years when I’ve had a Valentine, and let me tell you, every time I’ve had a special someone on that day it’s been a disappointment. Not that not having someone is everything that I’d hoped it would be, but at least there’s no getting my hopes up. If I did have someone, I would hope that he wouldn’t need a holiday like this one to up the romance factor. My favorite romantic moments have been quiet, impromptu, casual moments - like the time when a fairly new beau called me one morning as I was getting ready for work to tell me that he loved me. Let me tell you, that had me floating on Cloud 9 so much more so than a generic box of candy, the obligatory bouquet of red roses and sappy card would on February 14th. Moments like that make me want to bend over backwards to do everything I can think of and more to want to make my beloved feel, well, loved. Loved and happy and well cared for.

On years when I don’t have a special someone to celebrate contrived holidays like the one that just passed, I’m glad I have a black hole of a workplace to go to so that I can forget that there is no one to be on the receiving end of all the love and affection I have to give. Do you remember that famous line from the movie Jerry Maguire? “You complete me.” I love it when I can have someone in my life who can make it seem like my whole life exists for his happiness. I’ve found so far in my relationships that I’m happiest when I am able to make my partner happy, because let’s face it, you get what you give.

Anyway it’s late, or early, depending on how you look at it. The sun is coming up and I should get to bed.