Wedding part 9: The Outtakes

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Okay, it took me literally about an hour to do all the editing (I'm slow, I know it), but here they are. The last wedding pictures left to share. It's the end of an era.

I'm so poetic. Let's get started, eh?

First, very early in the photographic sequence, there was a bug under the top layer of my dress. How many adults does it take to get a bug out of the biggest dress of all time? 3 apparently. Do you notice anything else odd about this picture?

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Next, a moment to be captured on film- the first look. In which both of us appear to be looking at Slappy's crotch. What was that about?

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And then a picture with all the little people in the wedding. Especially the crying baby. And the flower girl who is LOVING it.

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Another quality moment was when the Rabbi declared us officially engaged. What is one to do in such a situation? Fist. pump.

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So after we got married we tried to do some more pictures, but my brain was, well fried. Or drunk. With LOVE. Example: the photographer wanted a picture of us holding hands and pulling slightly away. I did not understand. And oh, you'll notice a trend, my wedding day was also dramatic laughing day. Just fyi.

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Oh, what? More dramatic laughing? Whodda thunk?

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And as I got less intelligent, I also got less capable of smiling. Good thing I have 2 helpful sisters. I'd call them "special" and I'll let you figure out what the quotation marks denote.

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Onto the reception. I alluded in a previous wedding post about the dip during the dance. I did not want to be dipped. I had images of falling on my head in front of all my family and friends and I made those very clear. My husband, his hearing, it's not so good...(notice the yokels in the background laughing at my expense)

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Then there was the always entertaining Harry Potter who at one point came back from playing around the room (in the middle of dinner and about an hour before cake was served) and exclaimed "I GOT CAKE!" Ha. We'll be showing this picture to all of his future girlfriends.

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And last but not least, the cake. I also was quite clear here that I didn't want cake in my face (yes, I'm a nag, I'm aware), so instead I got a gigantic bite of frosting.

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So Slappy got the biggest bite of cake ever. And then shared it with me via a narsty kiss.

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And those, my friends, are the last of the wedding pictures I'm going to share. Mostly because that was a time/life/energy sucking vortex and I never want to try and wipe someone's face out of a picture again. Now we just need to sit down together and decide which 50 of the 798 pictures we want to put in an album. I'm sure it won't take long. Probably not as long as wiping Slappy's face off every picture with an atom sized eraser square.

I said probably.

Fail.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Today has been screaming to be a blog entry all day.

First, all I dreamed about last night was being pregnant. Which is not helping the current psychosis. I'm not pregnant, I just have no irrefutable proof. Come on uterus, help a girl out.

Then, I watched some tv and procrastinated. Hard to imagine, I know.

Then, I decided it was time to stop procrastinating and I showered.

Then, I realized that I need to apply for student loans because my tuition for the fall is due next week for one school (yea community college) and the other is due later in the month. And I have money for neither. So I logged onto Citibank, where I've been borrowing money for school for years now and whom I'm pretty sure I owe my first born child (which could be any day now according to my subconscious). And I started a loan application, only to find that effective, um, now, they no longer loan money to students of either of the institutions I'll be attending. Awesome.

Then, I found another graduate loan place and fill out all the paperwork, did the credit check and got approved (at what I'm sure is a 20% interest rate because, hi, I have more debt than I can even probably calculate). But I plug on, and go to e-sign the loan. Wherein they prompt me for my PIN. I'm like, okay I don't remember assigning one, but that's cool, maybe they're connected to my bank? so I type it in. And I get a fail message, because that is not my PIN. Because I didn't do a FAFSA (that's the pin they wanted), which at no point prior to this did they indicate that I needed to do one which is a big reason that I chose this loan because honestly, I'd rather gnaw off my arm than fill out a FAFSA.

So fine, I'll print off the promissary note and mail it in. Fail again. I'm not using internet explorer, which also wasn't previously specified, so not only can I not download/print/mail my note, I also can't use the "back" button function because that's Windows specific. So I drag out the pc and get on the internet, determined to win this battle. I will pay my tuition. Aaaaand the internet and cable go out.

I took this as a sign that it was time to give up for a while and go to a coffeeshop to study, which was my original plan anyway. This loan could be done later when I'm trying to justify not studying again.

So I pack up my stuff and I realize that I cannot find my wallet. Which is weird because it's not in my purse and it's not in my bag, and the last time I saw it was last night when I was unloading groceries. I remember my wallet being in a grocery bag because I had not taken a purse to CVS and it was just easier to throw it in the plastic bag than carry everything separately. This all happened just a few short minutes before I decided that I should throw out a bunch of grocery bags before they ignited or melted from the heat of the refrigerator. Surely I must have noticed the heaviness of the bag before I threw them away? Or not. Or I put my wallet in a plastic bag.

A plastic bag that I threw away.

In the kitchen garbage.

Which I tied up and took out last night.

In the outside trashcan.

Which has been marinating in the sun all day.

Then, stood in the kitchen and contemplated all the shiny sharp objects before I went outside on my front porch and DUMPSTER DOVE through my own trash, going through the wrong trashbag first (seriously, it had to be my housemates' bathroom trash? I died) and then finding the right one and finding my wallet covered in bell pepper seeds and the remnants of what once was blue cheese, but is not more green/fuzzy cheese.

Then, I took another shower though no amount of soap in the universe will ever EVER make me feel clean again.

And now I'm at a coffee shop trying to pretend like I'm not the person who smells noticeably like bell peppers and blue cheese threw up.

(contest below this, only the brave need apply)

100 Things About Me

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

I was tagged a while back to give 6 random things about me, but I couldn't narrow it down, and well, I really don't want to study for the GREs. If you only want to read the first 6 and run, then by all means, please do so, but you never know, you might learn something.

1. I have 1 sister and 4 step-sisters. Getting ready on holidays is an estrogen contest.

2. I have a cat. She is gargantuan and named Karma.

3. I had braces for 2.5 years, but didn't get them until I was 17, which made for a super cool first year of college.

4. I've never been hospitalized except after brain surgery.

5. I cannot stand to watch other people brush their teeth. Not on television, not in real life. And watching someone swallow toothpaste-spit makes me gag.

6. I love reality tv shows about twins, and triplets and quadruplets etc. But I do not harbor any fantasies about having more than 1 child at a time.

7. I have broken almost 10 bones, but only claim responsibility for like 2.

8. My best friend in elementary school was also a huge bully. She made fun of me all day at school but was nice to me on the weekends, so I stayed friends with her.

9. I have an irrational fear of vomiting.

10. I was proposed to twice, by one man, and I said yes both times.

11. I am petrified of lightning. I had an uncle who died from being struck by lightning and I think that kind of shit runs in my family like cataracts and glaucoma.

12. In high school I had a fungus in my lungs. It was decidedly not awesome.

13. I never had any wisdom teeth, which I am remarkably thankful for. My sister only had 1. We're just more evolved is all.

14. I haven't eaten a snickers bar since I was a kid and used to 2 eat a day. I feel like it's a slippery slope.

15. When I am angry, I clean. Sometimes I think Slappy picks fights just so I'll tidy things.

16. If I never had to blow dry my hair or put on make up again, I wouldn't. I am not a girly girl and I rock the wet ponytail look every chance I get.

17. I have seen every episode of Friends, Scrubs, The Office, How I Met Your Mother, and House. I love tv.

18. I won't see old movies. I'm not sure there's a rational explanation for this one.

19. I have been in 5 car accidents. 4 while driving, 2 of which totalled my car at the time, none of which were my fault.

20. I am bothered that they always use 7 month old babies for newborns on tv shows and movies. That toddler obviously did not just climb out of anyone's vagina.

21. I can't stand BBQ sauce or anything flavored that way. I especially hate sloppy joes. My husband shares this hatred and it just makes me love him a little more.

22. I hate all squash-type foods. It's a texture thing. But I do love me some zucchini bread.

23. When I was 5 I saw a cow birthed at the fair and I asked my mom if it was always that bloody. She said yes. I said I think I'll adopt.

24. I've never held a gun, and I strive to go my whole life without ever wielding one.

25. I read really quickly, but mostly because I skip a lot of words. I'm a skimmer.

26. I can't go to sleep if it's quiet. I put a tv show on each nigh to listen to as I fall asleep. When I was a kid it was cassette tapes from disney movies. I subsequently know every lyric to every animated disney movie from before about 1992.

27. I am a terrible speller. If Safari didn't have spellcheck, you probably wouldn't be able to read most of what I write.

28. I talk to myself in the car when I drive. Chances are, if I'm planning on meeting you or talking to you, I've probably rehearsed the conversation with myself while I drive. Because I am kind of a freak. And I'm always afraid that I'll accidentally dial someone on my cell phone and they'll hear my imaginary conversation.

29. The only external stitches I've ever had were from the boob surgery. Considering how often I hurt myself, this is a big accomplishment.

30. I am petrified of being fired from a job. Any job. Even one I dislike.

31. I am frighteningly coordinated on crutches.

32. The longest my hair has ever been is about halfway down my back (like to the top of my bra clasp) and that was before my neurosurgeon took a bic to the bottom 1/3 of it. Most of my childhood it was a pixie cut and I was often mistaken for a boy.

33. I don't like ice cream.

34. I am VERY easily embarrassed. I get embarrassed on other peoples' behalf and I, generally speaking, hate being the center of attention.

35. I have never smoked a cigarette, nor done any drugs, though I have a prescription for opiates.

36. The misuse of two/too/to and they're/there/their bugs the crap out of me. It's just not that difficult to remember when to use which one.

37. My attention span is very short. It's taken me, um, like 2 weeks to write this list.

38. I have won 5 different pie and cake contests. One contest I won 1st, 2nd and 3rd places. There were a lot of angry old women.

39. I hate, with a deep burning passion, anything Mayonnaise related. Conversely, I love mustard. As a kid I used to eat slices of cheddar cheese with dots of mustard on them. I really don't know how I came to have weight problems.

40. When I speak publicly, my ears turn bright red.

41. My favorite food is pancakes. Though I have an unusual love for m&ms of almost any variety.

42. When I was a kid I wrote everything backwards. Letters, words and sentences. My 1st grade teacher was convinced I was gifted and tried to get me tested.

43. I am never happier than when close to the ocean. And I think people who call the edge of a lake "the beach" are totally kidding themselves.

44. I love country music. Except Toby Keith. He's like nails on a chalkboard.

45. Speaking of which, I cannot stand the sight or feel of chalk and chalkboards. Which has made teaching a unique challenge. This one time, the chalk got really short and I accidentally just wrote with my fingernails on the board instead of the chalk. And then I died.

46. I was a very overweight kid/adolescent, and an anorexic co-ed. But I have never ever made myself throw up to lose weight. See #9 for explanation.

47. I hate feet. I don't know why, but I don't want them anywhere near me ever. Even clean ones. I can't imagine how anyone could ever give another person a pedicure. I always feel like apologizing when I get one.

48. I also cannot stand having a lump or fold in my socks. So much so that if I don't have to wear socks, I won't. Flip flops should be appropriate work shoes.

49. I hate the smell of sponges.

50. I got my first grade lower than a B in college. And I have never worked harder for a grade than I did for that stupid C+.

51. I am ambidextrous with all things except scissors.

52. I've had pneumonia 6 times that I can remember.

53. I have an abnormally deep bellybutton. Some say it has it's own gravitational force. They usually get hit when they say that.

54. I pick my lips. I don't know why, but it always increases when I'm stressed out or nervous.

55. I never saw New Orleans pre-Katrina. Despite the fact that I've been a resident for 2 years now and embrace it as my home, I have no idea what it was before August 29th, 2005. I had a plane ticket for September 1st, 2005, but my flight got cancelled.

56. I can sleep in an MRI tube. And if you've ever had your forehead taped to a backboard with the metal coil closed over your face and then been stuck in a trashcan while someone beat it with a metal rod, you'd understand what an accomplishment this is.

57. When I was in the 5th grade, I memorized pi to the 50th decimal place for extra credit.

58. I don't like crawfish from the shell. In fact, I don't like any food where I can clearly define its head/eyes right before I consume it.

59. The college I attended was smaller than my high school. Everyone knew everyone, it was sometimes a little creepy.

60. I can't make the pig oinking sound. But I also can't resist trying. Slappy constantly makes the noise at me because he knows that if I hear it, I must try to imitate it. Usually ends up with me gagging.

61. When I go to the fair, I like to try to pet the bunnies, but the only way to get at them is from the bottom, so usually, I just end up touching rabbit crap. And you'd think after 25 years I'd learn a lesson here. But they're so damn cute I need to pet them.

62. If I could only shop at one clothing store for the rest of my life, it would be Ann Taylor, if for no reason than because she sizes everything so nicely that I walk out feeling like a supermodel. A very very broke supermodel.

63. I hate vacuuming with a deep burning passion. Which is why we have a roomba, which is undoubtedly the best invention of all time.

64. I used to have a cat named "The Mama Kitty"

65. I also had a dog named Fluffy and by the time she was put down (and for about the 3 years before that) she was almost entirely hairless.

66. I only got sent to a principal/dean's office once in my entire school experience. And I swear to you, it was the only time I knowingly broke a school rule.

67. I don't really like butter. I don't believe it should be the defining flavor in any food.

68. The first concert I ever attended was Huey Lewis and the News, followed shortly by New Kids on the Block.

69. I don't get why everyone finds the number 69 hilarious. I mean, I understand it, but it always felt like such a juvenile joke, even when I was a juvenile. And also a nerd, just in case that wasn't clear.

70. When I watch sporting events, I start to think that I am actually a secretly awesome athlete. God help all of you who have to be around me during the Olympics.

71. I hate milk. I hate the smell, taste, and look of milk. And I firmly believe it was because I was forced to drink a glass every night with dinner. And despite this, I will probably inflict the same torture on my kids.

72. I always wanted to marry a guy with blue eyes. Imagine my wonderment when I found Slappy and his crystal blue eyes.

73. I don't look anything like my biological sister. The woman that did our makeup for the wedding said she'd never met a set of sisters with more extremely different facial characteristics.

74. I'm not a morning person. Slappy has a hard time understanding the no-talking-before-9-am rule and he breaks it often. It's not pretty.

75. My favorite cereal is Quaker Oat Squares. It's the smallest box in the cereal aisle and never sells for less than $4.50.

76. I am a horrible photographer. I am envious of all the bloggers who can take pictures and capture beautiful lights/moments/scenery. I'm the one who takes a picture and somehow always ends up in it. Usually my finger, or my reflection in a window. It's a genetic thing. My grandmother was the worst photographer of all time.

77. In a heated argument, I lose control over my ability to be human and have to have the last word. Sometimes it seems so right that I work with teenagers.

78. If I could survive without taking pills, I would. Some days it really weighs me down to think about how reliant I am on pharmaceuticals to be a functioning human. But I'd rather be a functioning human on prescription medications than a nonfunctioning non-pill taker.

79. I once drank so much that I blacked out. At my professor's house. And then I (apparently, I have no memory of this) gave direction to the cab driver in Greek (I was in Greece at the time) and got us all safely home. And then was hung over for 2 days and gave up drinking. 2 weeks before my 21st birthday.

80. I once sang/rapped Eminem's "Lose Yourself" at a karaoke bar. Athens was my alcohol experimentation period. It resulted in a lot of embarrassment.

81. I had no voice for 6 full weeks after the Eminem karaoke experience. It was as if it was important that the mortification live on through my cracking voice.

82. I still sleep with my baby blanket. Not because I can't sleep without it, but because I don't want to.

83. I have been sexually assaulted. And I didn't report it.

84. I did ballet and tap dancing for 14 years. Though if my mother would have let me, I'd have quit after about 4.

85. I can change out of a wet bathing suit into ballet tights and leotards while driving. Or at least I used to be able to, twice a week, always when it was dark outside, if that makes you feel any better.

86. I have jumped off a 10 meter diving platform. Can you say atomic wedgie?

87. I don't like coffee, which I think is entirely because it's not sweet enough.

88. I can't tell the difference between sour and bitter. I did one of those bitter paper tests and apparently I lack those tastebuds altogether.

89. I've dissected frogs, fetal pigs, cats and sheep hearts and eyes and the only thing that grossed me out was the stomach contents of the cat. Just ain't right.

90. I cannot hear the word "rectum" without immediately thinking, "damn near killed him." And without giggling because, hi, I'm 10.

91. I took the SATs 3 times, but didn't actually study between tests. I think I just assumed that in taking the test repeatedly I'd learn how to do it better. Not surprisingly my last 2 scores were exactly the same.

92. I didn't see snow for the first time until I was 12. And I didn't actually see snow falling from the sky until I was 16.

93. I was told by a college professor that I was the worst writer she'd ever encountered. I really kind of want to email her and tell her that I've found great happiness through my crappy writing and that she can (metaphorically) suck it.

94. Despite growing up in California, I hate all Californian football teams.

95. I am a terrible secret keeper, but I don't pretend otherwise. Don't tell me something that you don't want someone else to know eventually. I'm pretty good about finding someone completely removed from the situation to tell, but I always tell. It's a sickness.

96. I can make a clover shape with my tongue.

97. I had my last 6 baby teeth pulled out by the dentist. Despite the fact that I was 14 at the time, the toothfairy gave me 5 bucks for each. Score.

98. I am allergic to eggs, some seafood, iodine and everything that grows outside.

99. I'm so damned glad I have this blog I can't really explain it. Every single one of the 436 posts prior to this has been a piece of my life. Every post, every comment and every connection has meant something to me.

100. I am happier right now in my life than I have ever been before.

Deep Thoughts for a Monday

Monday, July 28, 2008

This particular monologue has been rolling through my head since I saw The Dark Knight on Friday afternoon. It was a dark movie and it hit home in a way I didn't anticipate. I don't know, I think these thoughts were in my head, they just didn't get put to words until I set time aside to not think about them, until I let my guard down.

Something about the timing of the movie morphed it into a catalyst, setting off this chain reaction in my brain. I think a big part of it has to do with my dad, who is, barring unforseen issues, going to be fine. Yes, it's a recurrence of the same type of cancer which makes it a little worse than if it was a magical new problem (magical? really Katie?), but his doctor is skilled and they're both optimistic. And my dad is now wearing sunscreen for perhaps the first time in his life, so I guess we've found our silver lining, 'eh? But at the same time, this last week, this cancer thing with my dad, this sanity draining thing with my head, even this movie, has forced me to think about my own mortality and that of those I love.

Yes, it's dramatic (are you surprised by this. Hi, have we met?) But it's true. That's what this last week has been for me. Watching Heath Ledger offer up a fantastic acting performance was great, but those few moments when you could recognize him, when you saw that it was Ledger and not this crazy character? It made my breath catch in my chest because he's dead. That man, who was only a very few years older than me, died. He didn't die of cancer, he didn't die of disease, he died from mixing the wrong pills.

He died from an accident. And I can't wrap my mind around that. But at the same time, I can't wrap my head around death at all. It's this thing, this element that is so much a part of life, but it's the thing we're all running from, and the thing we'll all ultimately be caught by. It's as big a part of life as anything else, and yet, it's the one thing that I really just can't comprehend.

Maybe I'm the only person who thinks about things like this, but some days I get caught up in how small I am. How in this gigantic earth, I'm just one tiny person. In the history of this planet, I'm like a speck of lint. Sure, I hope beyond hope to have a lasting impact, but I know that in the next 75 years, I'm going to die. And it scares the bejeezus out me. Ironically, not as much as living does. Because knowing that in the next 75 years I'll have to live through things that are far more difficult than death, scares me. Burying my parents being at the top of that list. And I know it's the natural order and that it's a part of life, but it's not one I'm willing or able to consider.

Hearing that my father had a recurrence of cancer reminded me that we're not invincible, that we're all at some point, going to leave this earth, this life, our loved ones. I've faced my own risk, I've looked at literature that tells me that I'm 4 times more likely than the average woman to be afflicted with breast cancer. I've read studies telling me to be tested for gene mutations, that recommend prophylactic measures for people in my position. But I don't think I ever let my guard down long enough to consider that it is going to happen.

Whether by cancer, or old age, or by simple accident, in the end, it doesn't much matter, the result is the same. I guess I'm just surprised. I feel like my eyes have been opened to something that I never really wanted to see. Maybe this is what growing up feels like and I've finally achieved the status of adult. Is this what being an adult is? Worrying about things like burying your parents instead of what color shorts to wear to the coffeeshop? Is being an adult having enough perspective to realize that the zit on my forehead that looks to be another head altogether really just doesn't matter?

I don't know. But I feel like I'm evolving. As if something has started to change in me (and again, for the record, it's not a child). I just feel a new responsibility or a new obligation to live my life because I'm privileged to have it. Because I realize now, that it's not something to be taken for granted. Because you don't get second chances. Because as cheesy as it sounds, every day literally could be your last.

I'm not going to start living like a crazy person, taking risks, throwing away money or jumping off buildings to conquer things. But maybe I'm going to hold a little bit tighter to the things in my life that I know are important. My family, my friends.

The things that I live for. The things I don't want to leave behind.

We interrupt this blog for an important announcement

Saturday, July 26, 2008

I think some of you are onto me, or at least the big announcement I have. I alluded to it yesterday in my brain letter and probably could've been more subtle. So I'm just going to go ahead and say it.


In a little less than 9 months...


...drumroll....


I will still not have any children.

Do you people really think that after going 7 weeks without a period I wouldn't pee on every device that would tell me whether or not I was going to squeeze a small being out of my nether regions? Because I have, thrice. I had to convince my doctor not to make me do it a 4th time earlier this week. And if I was pregnant, do you think I'd be subtle about it? Hi, have we met?

So let me clarify. Not pregnant.

I love me some babies and strive to have several, but preferably not in this year in which we have no money, my husband is still in school and we share a house with two random strangers who do things like rinse forks off with water and then put them back in the silverwear drawer. See, I don't need to have children, I can pick up after other people and produce my own insomnia without ripping my taint to shreds. Yea, good luck getting that image out of your head.

Anyways, just wanted to clear the air. And now I'm going to go lobotomize myself because, seriously brain, what. the. hell.

An Open Letter to my Brain

Friday, July 25, 2008

(because I don't want to talk about cancer anymore.)

Dear Brain,

I'm very very aware of the fact that this has been a rough week on you. The coughing makes you feel more pressurized, the sinus congestion (that began today) makes you feel squished and you're not happy. You know what brain? I'm not either.

I also know that over the course of the last 3 weeks I've filled you with vast quantities of useless information about elements and elephants and electrochemistry and things you won't remember tomorrow morning and I'm sorry for that too. You had to do a lot of reading and a lot of memorizing and a lot of math (you like it, you know you do). I am sorry to tell you that since the GREs are in a week and you've done no work towards those yet, this learning stuff isn't going to ease up anytime soon.

But see, here's my problem. The coughing has almost completely stopped. I did that, for you. I went to the doctor to spare you this pain, to make you feel better. And yet, you're still hurting me. In fact, you're hurting MORE. Yesterday I threw 3 Aleve and as many Tylenol as we had in the whole house at you and you did. not. stop. I took anxiety pills hoping just to calm you down, I took my antibiotics, I drank a shitload of water and diet soda, just to keep you hydrated and caffeinated. And yet, here we are. You, being immensely painful, me being incapacitated and whiny.

This morning, you flirted with me, that whole 10 minutes of not hurting, it was a ruse, wasn't it? Because no sooner had I stepped out of the house to take my exam, than you replicated the feeling of being crushed by a semi in the back and top of the head. It just ain't right, don't dangle the dream and then take it away.

And perhaps it's not just the pressure, I realize I need to have a chat with my endocrine system and hormones about the fact that I haven't had a period in um, 7 weeks, but even still, you gotta cut a girl some slack.

I am willing to make you a deal. If you give me 7 full days of painlessness and perhaps even one or 2 nights of FREAKING SLEEP, I will give you 2 whole weeks off learning. Just reading for pleasure, no grammar, no chemistry, nothing. Video games, television, movies, but no learning. Really. I promise. Just for you.

I really don't want to take you to a doctor because we both know that will probably be more pain, money and trouble than it's worth, but I also really really really need you to chill the hell out.

In closing, I understand you're not happy, I really do, and if I had anything besides a shotgun that might relieve some of the pressure, I'd do it for you, right here, right now. But you've really, really got to contain your negativity. You could use a lesson in compartmentalizing. Push through this brain, be strong and knock this shit off before I do something drastic, like go back on the opiates.

Don't challenge me, they don't drug test before the GREs, I've got nothing to lose.

Sincerely,
Katie

Bad News

Thursday, July 24, 2008

I found out in a text message from my dad that he has skin cancer (for those curious, it's a recurrence of basal cell carcinoma on his face). I suddenly feel like a huge ass for whining about bronchitis.

I don't even know how to begin processing this.

Where's Waldo

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

See if you can spot what's odd about my wedding registry...

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Filler

Lanny tagged me to do a Meme, and I am going to do it, in fact, I'm going to do the crap out of it, but not today. I still feel so remarkably lousy that I just don't have it in me to be creative or funny.

I think I am starting to turn a corner on this, but I felt so much worse yesterday than I had Monday that I feel like it's going to take a while just to get back to feeling crappy, let alone to feeling well. If I could just have like a 15 minute break from coughing, I'd be beside myself with gratitude. My poor voice is just gone and my whole abdominal area/ribs are insanely sore from the incessant hacking. It hurts everywhere.

Oh, and tonight is my last chemistry test and chemistry class since I'm opting to take my B and run, without taking the final exam. Which means that tomorrow is day 1 of GRE studying. I bet it's difficult for you to resist wanting my life every day. But really, do try to contain your envy.

I miss the school nurse

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Despite the barking-cough-of-death and the fever that prevented me from being upright for most of the day yesterday, I went to class. Only, I should add, because we had a quiz planned and we get to drop our lowest quiz grade. I'm not sure if you remember, but um, I got a zero on one last week and I'd kind of like to drop that one. A lot. Did you know a zero out of twenty makes a serious dent in your quiz average? It does.

So I went. And I coughed. And coughed. And coughed. In case you wondered, the prescription cough drops do not work. As soon as I finish the homework that's due tonight, I'm going to use all y'all's recommendations and start shooting alcohol.

Anyways, Professor Incomprehensible stops the lecture and asks me what's going on.

I'm sorry, is my coughing confusing? Does she think I'm giving birth? I tell her in my hoarse-ass voice that "I am sick." She says that she has some red ginseng if I want it. Um, no thank you.

So the lecture resumes. As does the coughing. I left the room a few times when I knew I was due for a spell which would culminate in the cough gag, because really, no one wants to see that. And again, she stops lecture. This time because someone in my vicinity sneezes.

"What is going on?" She inquires.

"It wasn't me." What? It wasn't.

"I know, but look, you've already made everyone sick." She accuses.

Here's where I offered to leave. If I was bothering her so much I'd be willing to go home right then. Really, no big thing. But no, she says it's fine, she'll continue "teaching."

Ten minutes later, she stops again. I swear up and down in my head if she says one more word about my cough that I am just going to pack up my crap and go home. I have already taken my quiz and I just don't need this grief at all.

This time she asks me to read something off the overhead projector. She does this often because her accent is so thick that you tune her out purely because what she's saying is not words, but sounds with no meaning. And since she's reading directly off the powerpoint, it's not difficult to go ahead and teach yourself while she rambles. Though admittedly I paid attention last week when she kept confusing the word "element" with the word "elephant" because that was funny shit. Did you know that the sodium elephant will react with the chloride elephant?

I shot her a look of death and proceeded to read the slide with my pre-pubescent boy voice cracking every other syllable. If there was a way to imitate it through letters on the blog, I would, but just imagine a 13 year old boy trying to read in front of the whole class.

She thanked me for reading and then, with a very confused look says, "Kathryn, are you sick?"

Back from doctor....

Monday, July 21, 2008

She said:
-Asthmatic bronchitis, and as she put it, "one delicate step away from pneumonia."
-Double ear infection
-Probably increased pressure in my head, which should go away when the cough does, but if it doesn't I'm supposed to follow up with the neurologist asap.

She prescribed:
-Z pack (greatest antibiotic invention ever)
-Albuterol
-Prescription cough drops
-A nap

2 steps forward, 2 steps floorward

Sunday, July 20, 2008

First, a big thanks to everyone who's commented and offered suggestions. I've read each of them and y'all are incredibly intelligent and thoughtful.

I took your advice and tried to nap yesterday but once again just found myself lying in bed, not sleeping. I got to sleep around 2 last night and was up sometime around 9 this morning, so I got a little more sleep than I have been lately. I just got out of bed after trying for an hour and a half to nap, but the lying down was as much to keep myself from passing out as it was for napping.

You see, this morning, I felt better. Yes, I still had the cough, but I just felt a little better, more energy or something. Slappy and I talked about it and determined that this was probably just a cold which did not warrant a trip to the doctor (yea yea, just wait). We ate lunch, watched some tv and headed to Starbucks to do some studying.

Pretty much the instant we set foot in starbucks the dizziness/lightheadedness and rather uncomfortable headache hit me. I didn't want to leave and thus, didn't say much, if anything about it. I got a good 2 hours of work in, taking a few breaks to steady myself, before I reached a point where I physically and mentally had to stop. I signaled to Slappy that I was not okay and that we needed to go home. And so we did.

Along with the lightheadedness and monster headache were unrelenting chills, so I wasn't surprised to see that the fever jumped to almost 101 (which is pretty high for me, I'm a 97.7 degree girl when/if I'm healthy). The headache seems to be much worse when I'm lying down which is why I'm no longer doing that. In case you were curious, a headache while lying down follows the increased pressure theory beautifully. So beautifully that it elicited tears. Oh wait...

And theories, they are great, but seriously, they freaking hurt and having them sadly does not fix the problem being theorized about. Which is why, in case you wondered, I'll be going to the doctor tomorrow. I honestly just don't know how I'm going to make it that long and/or how I'm going to drive myself there (Slappy has unmissable work, otherwise I'm sure he'd take me). Thankfully the office is close and I'm holding out hope that the lightheadedness/headache will let up sometime soon.

I'm not holding my breath, but I'm hoping.

Sick and Tired

Saturday, July 19, 2008

I've been trying to not actually write this particular blog entry, because no one likes to hear other people whining. But the more I resist, the more my fingers want to move over the keys. I am not well and I am not handling it well. I am possibly being the world's biggest baby, but seriously, I feel like crap. And if you're just here to make me feel worse (*cough*Vanderbilt*cough*), then go away, because that's pretty much the opposite of what I need right now.

The friend with whom I pity partied yesterday, generously shared a virus with me last weekend that, for her, ended up as a sinus infection, an ear infection and bronchitis. I'm happy to say that my sinuses seem fine, in fact, so fine that when our air conditioner started pouring out air that smelled of melting plastic, I smelled it so strongly I thought I was having a seizure or some other hallucination. My lungs and ears, however, are down for the count.

I have one of those deep chest coughs where every time you take a deep breath the immediate result is barking. The kind of cough where you cough until you gag because you can't stop. It's really really unpleasant. And one of the extra special side effects is that coughing increases your intracranial pressure, which normally wouldn't be a problem. But it's me, so normal obviously isn't the answer. My brain doesn't have enough room to deal with high pressure and consequently for the past 2 days I've been lightheaded, my left arm has alternated between tingling and completely numb and I have just wanted to crawl into a small hole and die. My ears are also both hurting something fierce and they too are affected by the cough. It's not good. The fever is mild but energy zapping and I just feel bad all over.

Beyond the disgustingness of this crap is also an ongoing battle with insomnia. I've kind of felt like if I didn't acknowledge it that maybe it would go away on its own, but it's not. Since we returned from our honeymoon, I've probably slept soundly no more than 3 or 4 nights total. I lie in bed each night for an hour and a half, willing myself to sleep, trying not to wake my husband. And I'm doing everything I can to encourage sleep. I'm not lying in bed all day during the week (anymore, that's an adjustment I've made), I'm setting an alarm so I'm up before 9 each morning, I'm not drinking caffeine much after about 5pm and I'm not lying down until I'm drowsy, which usually isn't until after midnight. Most nights, sleep doesn't begin until between 1:30 and 2am.

It's amazing because I'm exhausted all day long, until it's time for bed. And it's just starting to wear on me. Like right now, I'm tired, sick and wanting to nap. But at the same time, I know that taking a nap will likely further prevent me from sleeping tonight and I can't tell if it's smarter to grab sleep now when I'm pretty sure I can get it, or try to sleep solidly at night, a concept that has alluded me for a month?

I don't know. I'm tired. I don't feel good. I feel like a child. I don't know what to do. The cough laughs at cough drops, I don't own anymore tylenol cold or dayquil/nyquil drugs, and I don't know what to buy. No cold medicine says "for chest cold wherein you sound like a seal and feel like an elephant is sitting on your chest." Now that would be a helpful label.

So instead, I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes, just trying to make it through the day so that maybe I'll get some sleep and feel better tomorrow. I'm just sick and tired of being sick and tired all the time.

8 Things

Friday, July 18, 2008

I stole this Meme from Kim because it's been a while since I've seen or been tagged for a good Meme (why do I think I might regret that statement later?) and I felt like between the troll post (hi, I saw you visited twice today, how're things in Nashville?), the pity party post and how much I want to sit here and bitch to you about how extremely crappy I feel, it might be time for something different.

So here we go. An 8 things Meme.

8 things I have passion for
1. My husband. Yep, you made the top of the list.
2. My Friend(s). I don't have a lot, but the ones I have, I hold dearly.
3. Learning. School is my mistress.
4. Technology. I love television, music, video games and the interwebs. I do. There, I said it.
5. My beliefs. You don't have to agree with them, but I hold them rather dear.
6. My faith. It doesn't fit into any simple umbrella of a religion, but it is my faith and it is pretty important to me.
7. Voting. Do it, or else.
8. Not failing. I guess this is more of a fear than a passion, but I strive to not fail more than I do most anything else.


8 things I would like to do before I die
1. Give birth to at least one child, and live to raise them to be a good person.
2. Finish my education. Seriously, I love learning, but boy would I love to be finished with school someday.
3. Become fluent in another language. I've learned both Spanish and Greek, but have not been fluent in either.
4. Make a difference in a way that positively impacts other people.
5. Be the best at something. God I know this sounds selfish, but I've never won 1st place at anything. And at some point before I die, I'd like to get a trophy or a ribbon or something commemorating a 1st place accomplishment.
6. Go back to Greece and share that part of my past with my family.
7. Own my own home.
8. Have money that I could spend without feeling guilty. Again selfish, but also, pretty unlikely to ever happen.


8 things I Say a lot
1. Um.
2. Do you want a cookie? (I'm working on this because it's come to my attention that it's not very nice...)
3. Kiss my butt/ass
4. Bite me
5. Love me (usually follows 2, 3 or 4)
6. Seriously?
7. Sure (Slappy HATES the word sure, and I don't usually use it to bother him, though it has been known to happen on occasion).
8. Frick


8 books I have read lately
1. "Chemistry" by Raymond Chang, 9th edition
2. "You've Been Warned" by James Patterson (so not as good as most of his stuff)
3. "Sail" also by James Patterson (much better)
4. "The Year of Fog" by Michelle Richmond (pretty good
5. "7th Heaven" by James Patterson (anyone see a pattern?)
6. The first half of "The House of God" by Samuel Shem, but it disturbed me (it's a satire about doctors and hospitals and it is pretty negative about doctor/non-doctor marriages)
7. The first chapter of "Confederacy of Dunces" by John Kennedy Toole, because it got stolen before I got a chance to read it on the plane...
8. "Mastering the GREs". So technically I haven't read this, but I'll be cracking it open starting Wednesday and I've looked at the cover a lot.


8 movies I've seen 8 or more times
1. The Breakfast Club ("We're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it than others, that's all.")
2. The Simpson's Movie (only because we just bought it, it's been in the DVD player and there is a void of watchable television each day from about 11am to 2, where I turn it on and do chemistry with it in the background. Envy me.)
3. Pretty Woman (first R rated movie I ever saw)
4. An American Tail (as a kid, probably one of the first movies I saw)
5. Happy Feet (because it makes me happy)
6. X-men 1, 2 and 3 (because I loved them, though they came with us to Hawaii and thus were stolen)
7. Pirates of the Caribbean 1 (because it was the only dvd I had while studying abroad.)
8. Beaches (because it's one of the best chick flicks ever made)


And I'm not tagging anyone since I stole this. Feel free to take it, modify it, use it, etc., as you choose. Now excuse me while I go cough myself unconscious.

The Pity Party

Today I will be throwing a pity party. Not for me, but for a friend who just got some really bad, potentially life changing, news. She and her new Fiance just moved few blocks away from us, so since we're so close by and I have nothing to do all day long, I just couldn't sit aside and not do something. Oh, and she gave me this crap, so I'm not worried about getting her sick.

So we're having a party.

There will be cake, soaked gloriously in rum, there will be whatever alcoholic beverage she wants (somehow we have the most amazing alcohol collection, I'd say it's because I cook a lot, but honestly, I just don't know), and there will be movies. Steel Magnolias and Beaches if she needs to cry about someone else's problems, or some absurd comedy if she needs to not be crying.

And maybe some Wii time. I'm thinking the boxing would be a pretty therapeutic.

Other suggestions?

I love technology = the end of anonymity

Thursday, July 17, 2008

No anonymous, I don't have your name, however, I have much more than that.

IP Address: 160.129.209.# (Vanderbilt University Medical Center)

Continent: North America
Country: United States
State: Tennessee
City: Nashville
Lat/Long: 36.1866, -86.7852

Language: English (U.S.)
Operating System : Microsoft Win2000
Browser: Internet Explorer 6.0 Mozilla/4.0 (compatible; MSIE 6.0; Windows NT 5.0)
Javascript: version 1.3
Monitor Resolution: 1024 x 768
Color Depth: 24 bits

I know that because you viewed my blog from the Vanderbilt University Medical Center, you're probably a medical student*, which seriously worries me for all those in Tennessee who might encounter you in real life. How did you possibly make it to medical school without learning how to make your nouns and verbs agree? Did you know they teach that in like, um, kindergarten?

I also know that you stopped by earlier this morning before leaving your unnecessary comment and that you looked at my twitter stream. I'm not sure why that led you back, but you then came back at 11:33am to leave your anonymous comment.

Then, at 3:18pm, you came back to see if your comment stirred the pot. I hope you were pleased that other people realized what a huge uneducated douche tool you are.

So come back, I dare you. Leave another comment, maybe even a grammatically correct one for a change. I will know. I promise that when I am able to figure out exactly who you are I will make sure everyone you know, there in Nashville and maybe even wherever you apply for your residency, knows what a humongous asshole you are. Residency programs really like character references and I'll be sure to give a fantastically descriptive one.

Karma is a bitch. You'll see.

(*I realize I made a rather large assumption here. If you're not a medical student, then just change all references of "residency applications" to "future job." The point remains the same.)

karma balances itself

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

You saw this coming, right?

Good news:
Got job back
Did well-ish on test (83%- not great, but better than I probably deserved)
Took invigorating yoga class for first time since gigantic brain diagnosis

Bad news:
Fever
Horrendous chest cough, courtesy of the elephant sitting on my chest
Zero (out of TWENTY) on chemistry quiz


Do you feel better now karma?

I'm still working on the outtake pictures from the wedding, but I have many honeymoon pictures (ALL of which are G rated, by the way) to share, so I'm going to get started on those.

We were on the island of Maui in a little area called Napili, at one of the condo type resorts. We had our own kitchen, washer, dryer, etc, but also had housekeeping service. The best of both worlds. If you're ever looking to go to Maui, email me and I'll give you all the necessary details.

Here's our hotel:

Looking at the front (our door is behind the stairs)
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View from the front door looking in:
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The living room (and me, vacationing)
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The porch
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The view out from the porch
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(This cove is where we did most of our snorkeling and where we saw no less than 15 gigantic sea turtles. They were incredible. Pictures eventually when I get them developed)
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If you are ever in Maui, regardless of which side of the island you are on, there is one place you absolutely MUST eat. We ate breakfast here 4 separate times. And holy crap. The best food I've ever eaten. I'm not even slightly joking. This restaurant, called the Gazebo, is open from like 7 to 2, and there will always be a line. But the line moves and even if it didn't, it would be so beyond worth the wait. Why you ask?

Well, first, here's the view we had on our walk from our hotel to the Gazebo.

(A dirt path)
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(Ocean!)
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Then there's the view from inside the restaurant:
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(Despite the fact that I look mentally deficient, look at the view!)
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And then there's the FOOD. Oh. my. God. They serve breakfast and lunch, but their pancakes are to die for. I tried 4 different versions and by far my favorite were these: banana macadamia nut white chocolate chip pancakes. With whipped cream, coconut and maple syrup. Be still my heart.
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Slappy's last meal there was a Monte Cristo. Considering that I'm allergic to eggs, I did not partake, but he assured me that it was excellent. Other noteworthy dishes (according to him) included an omelet and the breakfast burrito.
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We also got to mingle with wildlife, like the mangiest bird ever, of which we have like 12 pictures of because Slappy is the master of taking 10,000 terrible (usually candid) pictures, hence the above one of me looking half-unconscious.
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And finally, did I mention the view?
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That's just the hotel and food. Tomorrow will be the Luau (fun drunk pictures!) and our hiking trip. Eventually I'll get the snorkeling pictures back because your lives won't be complete if you don't see me looking like an albino in a bikini.

A Plan

Monday, July 14, 2008

If my earlier blog didn't indicate it, this job thing has been weighing me down. Earlier today, during a mix of stress from my chemistry exam studying and the job situation, I stopped what I was doing and had a conversation with God. I'm not sure we've been on great terms since I perhaps said some unkind things after the incident in Hawaii, however, I prayed. For the first time in a while. I didn't ask for my job back, and I didn't ask for an A on my exam, I just asked for resolution. If I wasn't going to get an A or a B in chemistry, I just needed to know now so I could drop the class before Thursday. If I wasn't going to get my job back, I needed to know so I could start applying elsewhere. I wasn't looking for miracles, just resolution.

And then I left for my class.

First, I took my chemistry test. It was on 2 chapters, one of which I understood solidly and the other I did not. Not even the tutor who came in to help us could answer the questions I was confused about. It was rough. And I'm not going to say I rocked that because I truly have no idea how I did on it. However, I was able to come up, through my calculations, with one of the multiple choice answers for each question. This is almost unheard of. It doesn't mean I got them all correct by any means, but last week's test involved a lot of situations where I would choose the answer that was closest to my answer, and inevitably, I missed quite a few problems. So if nothing else, I at least guided my own grade this time. I'll know probably know my grade tomorrow.

While I was taking the test, I got a call from my old work.

I have a job.

I have a GOOD job.

I'm actually teaching a subject I'm semi-educated in, as well as the one I've been teaching. This is fantastic, beyond just the getting paid (and therefore being able to eat, pay rent and keep the a/c running), it also means I get to keep my health insurance, it means I'll get a Christmas holiday in which I get to go home to California to see my newest cousin's birth and several other things. It's also going to give me the opportunity to teach a new subject, which while somewhat scary, is a good thing. It's going to give me a chance to re-evaluate and be sure that leaving teaching is the right decision. It's going to allow me to clearheadedly differentiate between not liking teaching and not liking teaching the subject I've been teaching (I didn't hate it, and I don't mind teaching a couple sections of it, I just didn't have any passion for it).

With this schedule I'll get to teach some of my students from my first year at this school, which should be nothing if not interesting. The school is even going to give me the normal pay increase that I'd have received if I hadn't quit at the end of this school year, which is so incredibly generous of them. I was fully willing to take that pay cut and am so pleasantly surprised to not be. I start the first full week in August, which is right after I finish with the GRE.

I'm not going to lie, it was an awful lot of good news all at once, and I'm not going to get holier than thou art, but honestly, I feel like there's got to be a plan in place. Maybe there was a reason all of our things were stolen. I think we've already gained a really great new perspective on what's truly important in life and I can only imagine that there's another lesson waiting for me in this next year of teaching.

And I'm wildly looking forward to finding out what it is.

Sitting on the dock of the bay...

I'm not sure if I've mentioned lately how much this waiting to hear about my job thing is harming my mental health, but just let me tell you, it is. A LOT.

The email Thursday said they'd meet with me today. It did not say when, it did not say how to contact them, it did not say what I should do. So I emailed again today, just checking in and seeing if they wanted to have me come in. I even showered before noon today, just so I'd be ready at a minute's notice.

And then I've waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Oh, and then I WAITED SOME MORE.

I would just drive down there and wait, but of course, I have a chemistry test today, so I can't really trash the whole day (I will tomorrow if need be). But for the love of all that is holy and sacred, I need some news.

It's fine, if you don't have a job for me, just tell me already. If you're still working on it and it's going to take more time, just tell me. If you have a job, then great, TELL ME.

But seriously, this waiting with no news is so many levels of not okay.

Honestly, I'm not even sure what I'm going to do with my days when they aren't filled with hours and hours of waiting for any news at all. I can only imagine what that might feel like or WHEN I MIGHT GET TO EXPERIENCE IT.

Wedding part 7: The Reception

Saturday, July 12, 2008

So, I do now have the legal pictures, but not yet the ability to cover or blur faces or do anything to any of the pictures because I don't have the "paint" software on my Mac. That, along with the solitaire games that only come on PCs are pretty much the only things I miss with my Mac.

But anyway, for now, this will have to do. And p.s.- this post is extremely long. If you finish, be sure to give yourself a pat on the back. And go eat a cookie or something. If you finish this entry, you really deserve it. I'm not providing it, but you deserve it anyway.

So I left off with the reception set up, and now onto the real reception. After the ceremony there was a cocktail hour where our guests had appetizers and copious quantities of alcohol (that's how we got half our friends there, hello, hosted bar!). Meanwhile, Slappy and I had a few minutes alone to just sit and eat some appetizers ourselves and then we did more pictures (many of which you've already seen) and then eventually, it was time for the reception.

They got the wedding party all lined up outside the room and the DJ announced each couple, starting with Slappy's parents. And this is where the problems sort of began (that is the non-ceiling caving in, marriage license typo, florist 2 hours late problems...). Slappy's mother has a very lovely name, however, if you reverse 2 of the letters, it's a slightly less lovely name (in her opinion at the very least). And of course, that's how the DJ announced her. In her own words, she believes that her announced name is a cow's name, and she was, um, irritated, to say the least (I was amused to say the very least). Then the DJ introduced my parents together, rather than with their respective spouses (ha, it was pretty funny too) and then mispronounced Slappy's brother's name. And it's not a hard name. It's 3 letters long, seriously? It's just not that challenging.

But defying all the odds, the DJ got our names right and we were announced. And here's us walking in. Oh wait, that's right, it's just me walking in because my husband stopped to talk to friends.

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And then we did our first dance. I have only a few pictures of this because Slappy was kind of all up in those pictures, but you should know that the best picture of the bunch was from our first dance. I had been struggling with my dress getting caught between my legs (it was gargantuan) which had a lot to do with the fact that my sister missed a bustle when she got me ready for the reception, but one of the ways Slappy helped me cope with this was to twirl me, and of course, much to my dismay and pleading otherwise, dipping me. So once I find the ability to cover his face, I'll post the picture because it's priceless. But here are a few to give you a small taste. Oh, in the end we decided on the Keith Urban song, "Making Memories of Us" for our first dance. It was the first song Slappy ever suggested for the first dance and it worked beautifully.

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(my hand is an illusion...)


After this, we had toasts, first from my sister, and then from Slappy's brother. There's another priceless picture here during Slappy's brother's toast, which was funny, but I can't show it to you. So here's us at our sweetheart table and then hugging my sister after her toast.

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After the toasts, Slappy's dad did a traditional Jewish blessing over the world's largest loaf of challah bread (you can see it in the first dance pictures), which was then broken into pieces and served at each table, along with caesar salad. Some guests were not really sure of what to do with the challah. Or perhaps they're just smart asses. Hard to tell.

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Since neither Slappy nor I were really hungry, we went around to each table, stopping first at my mom's so that she could fix my bustling.

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(this is how it looked when properly bustled)

After that we ate dinner (a combination plate- steak and salmon with garlic mashed potatoes!) and then my dad gave a very funny and sweet toast. And then we danced. We danced to a song called "I loved her first" by Heartland. Google the lyrics and you'll understand why my father bawled like a baby through about half the dance.

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(This is him hugging me because he's crying so hard he can't dance anymore)

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(I love this one)

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(Crying again)


After we finished, Slappy dance with his mom to the Lee Ann Womack song "I hope you dance" which was decided upon after we rejected all her Celine Deon lovey dovey songs that were absolutely absurd for a woman who doesn't like her own child. I have no pictures to share, but it was painful for Slappy since, shockingly I know, she likes to lead rather than follow. Plus, it singes your skin to touch the devil. Wait, did I say that out loud? Halfway through the dance everyone else joined them on the floor.

Shortly after this, Slappy and I cut the cake, which had a really great cake topper of personalized bobble heads. Sadly, they were lost after the cake was cut, but we got our money back and a lot of apologies. I, of course, have no pictures of this to show you either, but I can narrate pretty well what happened. I had been very clear with Slappy that I did not want cake smeared on my face. I was having my make up done and I just didn't want to have to wipe all of it off or any of that. So we cut the cake and he goes to feed me a bite, and to his credit, he did not smear frosting on my face. Instead, he gave me a bite, a LARGE one, completely comprised of frosting. I like frosting, but a full bite of it? No. So I was perhaps not as tidy when I smashed cake into his mouth. And then he gave me a big frosting lips kiss, where I look like I'd rather consume garbage than kiss the frosting (not than kiss him, just the frosting part).

After the cake were the bouquet and garter tosses. My bouquet toss was rather uneventful with Slappy's brother's girlfriend (of the day) catching the bouquet. Though Slappy's brother was in the bar watching tv or doing God knows what and missed it.

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And then Slappy did the garter. Let me preface this with the fact that I hate the garter tradition. I think it's raunchy, and Slappy spared no expense at making it as raunchy as possible. The only picture I can show you of his entire show is this, but note that he came out for air once and then we he emerged he had the garter in his mouth. However, regardless of what he tries to tell you, he did not remove it with his teeth.

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After all the requisite traditions we did the last requisite Jewish tradition- the Hora. I don't know the origin, I don't know the real procedure but I do know that if you invite 115 guests and only 20 of them are Jewish, the Hora is much more complicated. All of Slappy's family and family-friends got up and we danced in a bit circle (during which ALL of my bustles ripped out, but seriously, who even cares?) and then the chairs emerged. Oh yes, the chairs. Before I knew it, my satin covered ass was on a satin covered chair and I was slip-sliding through the air. I had 3 guys lifting me, meaning my chair was leaning to one side, but Slappy had 2 girls trying to lift him and it did not work quite as well. Combine that with the fact that the DJ (and all the gentiles) didn't know the song was supposed to be played over and over so that everyone got up in the chairs, and well, it was not really a traditional hora. However, I had a blast and managed to save myself from certain death by jumping out of chair when I began truly sliding out of it. If you ever get married, do the hora. It's ridiculously entertaining. Sort of a no-rules mosh pit with chairs and Hava Naguila.

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When the hora was over we got the party really started. Slappy and I goofed around for a few minutes (twirling and tangoing, of course) and then everyone got their groove on. Slappy got his on a little too enthusiastically because about 2 minutes into the first free-for-all dancing song, I heard his sister laughing hysterically and then she pointed out the HUMONGOUS split in his pants. I'm not talking like just ripped the seat seam out of them, I'm talking like a 14 inch split down the butt and half the leg. It was hilarious.

So I had to then go track down someone who worked there, get a sewing kit and then lock us in an office to sew up Slappy's pants. Of course, this was the point in the evening when everyone who came from out of town was leaving, and we were, of course, locked in a room and sans-pants. It was only slightly awkward. In the end, I did the best I could and then told him to tuck his shirt into his black underwear and we got back out there. Shortly after this, due to the heat (due to the air conditioning malfunction that caused the bridal suite to collapse in on itself) Slappy began shedding clothes anyway and once he lost the coat, vest and tie, he untucked his shirt and it was not noticeable. But I went ahead and told everyone anyway. I told you, it was hilarious.

I kept right on grooving, even sans-bustles and Slappy did the same, with shottily sewn pants.

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(holding my dress)


We danced and danced and danced, until they made us leave at 11. We did manage to get the first dance song I had wanted at the end of the night, as our final dance (Ben Folds, The Luckiest). And I'm ever so slightly proud to announce that the MIL stomped back to her seat and REFUSED to dance during the last dance because of the song. Victory is mine.

I can honestly tell you it was the best day of my whole life. A lot of things went wrong, but almost all of them were incredibly comical and so much less bad than they could've been. And when it was all said and done, I was married to my best friend and we were in a limo on a way to a super fancy hotel before jetting off to our Hawaiian honeymoon.

In short, it rocked. And while it was so much work, and so much money and so much stress, if I had it to do over again, I wouldn't do any of it differently. It was perfect.



(I still have 2 wedding related posts coming up- the honeymoon pictures (totally safe for work, perverts) and the "outtakes" from the wedding. You'll see what I mean)