Long time no blog

Yes, I have been completely MIA. And yes, I have really missed bloggy world.

The thing is, I was so overwhelmed by the wedding and all that jazz-- and overwhelmed at my feeling of obligation for blogging on it-- that I just kinda took a vacation from it all.

Alas.

I miss bloggy world. I particular miss Wit's End, and Ashes to Glass, and Chiblog-o. Seriously, I miss you ladies. Thanks for all the love while I have been gone. I miss all the rest of you too. I didn't just stop writing, I stopped reading as well. And I have a ton of catching up to do.

On another note, I was a bit miffed by one of my closest bloggy friends. You see, I befriended another amazing woman blogger who I have never met and who lives completely across the country. While she and I are probably completely different in "real life," I had become a huge admirer of hers for her positive outlook, her dedication to blogging several times a day and her drive to "do good" in her everyday life.

About two weeks before my wedding she went through a really tough time with a relationship in her life. She started to email me outside of the blog for advice and support and I would reply with my best thoughts of support and love.

But then life hit.

The two weeks leading up to hitching day were crazy busy. Sometimes I wouldn't get to my personal email for days and when I did, I had to reply to folks coming in from out of town. I had to prioritize. Frankly, I should have been there for her more. But stress had hit. Family was in from out of town. I had a ton to do. And I had a lot of people during that time that I felt like I had a responsibility to make happy.

So... I got back from my honeymoon and she had made all of her blogs private and I was not included on her reading list anymore. I was really sad.

Anyone else ever been dumped by a bloggy friend? It totally sucks.

Sociologically, it's also completely strange. What are these types of relationships that we create over the internets without ever having ever really met? What does it mean to follow a relatively complete stranger's life day in and day out? And what does it all mean when it comes to an end?

Anyhow, I ramble. But I completely welcome any other stories like this. I could use some insight.

So the months have passed and I am completely wonderful. I am so happily hitched to my hubby it's crazy. We put an offer on our first house together this week! The animals are great despite the war against fleas. And in general, life is good.

I'm getting back to blogging tonight though, because I have a mission. I am determined to do all I can to elect Barack Obama this November. I can't just sit at home and fret about November. I must do something. Tonight Garrett and I are creating a new website to encourage community advocacy and voter registration. And I plan to back it up using this site-- which is no longer called, "Holy Shit! We're Gettin' Hitched." Now you can find me at, "www.urbancowgrrrl.com."

I plan to use this website for some politics for the next 7 weeks. If it's not your thing, bear with me, register to vote, and I will attempt to speckle this with personal connection when I can.

I seriously did miss my bloggy friends.

Thanks for your patience.

Love,
Beck

Show her some lovin' bloggie world

Yeah, you know you love my Ba-Baaaam Soul Sista April too. The woman is incredible. She's bloogging now as a way to process one of the biggest life-changing experiences of her life. I won't tell you more-- you will have to visit yourself.

Dear internets, I talked you up. I said you show the love. Don't let me down. Please share that love with Ms. Ba-baaam. Cause damn, she's worth it.

http://aprilsunshyne.blogspot.com/

Jesus Horses and Valentines

My friend Danny-O was telling me about a Saturday Night Live sketch he saw a few weeks ago in re-run. Apparently, Tina Fey was having a go at this beloved state for how backasswards we are during the Weekend Update segment.

The History-- A few years ago, the bright minds governing Georgia decided it would be a great idea if we banned the teaching of Evolution in our public schools. Yes, our leaders said that only Creationism should be taught to our children.

Tina Fey, on SNL, announces that Georgia is considering removing all mention of Evolution from the Science curriculum. She then pulls out a Science book and says that Georgia has solved the biggest challenge to this new teaching-- What About the Dinosaurs? She says that Georgia would be renaming the Dinosaurs "Jesus Horses."

I still can't stop laughing at that. Jesus Horses. Bwaaahahahaaa.

I must have told all my friends about the Jesus Horses. I told Garrett that I really wanted a T-shirt with a brontosaurus on it and the words "Jesus Horse."

Even though, neither of us are very big on Valentine's Day, Gar made me this gift today. Best damn Valentine's gift I have ever gotten.


I'm particularly tickled by the censored pubis bone.
Happy V-Day.

Circadian Rhythm and a Bedside Visitor

The past few nights have been fitful to say the least. Tossing, turning, lucid dreams-- no, strike that, lucid nightmares. Those are worse.

It culminated last night. Gar and I watched the Daily Show and then the Colbert Report for their Super Tuesday coverage, took a shower, fooled around and went to bed. Even after a lovely night, I was having trouble shutting down my mind. After about an hour and a half of convincing myself to go to sleep, I drifted off-- completely aware of every level of the downward shift into unconsciousness.

I began dreaming like a maniac. The dreams were so vivid (not entirely unusual for me)that I felt as though they were making me more tired (not so common for me).

And I was completely lucid.

The dreams were full of anxiety, fear, catastrophe, and lies and I would stop myself and say, "Beck, stop dreaming like this! You need to sleep. Go another direction. Hey dream, did you hear me? Go another direction!"

And it would-- for a moment.

I was getting tired of fighting myself. I would tell my dream to stop over and over. I reminded my dream that I had to be up early for a Judiciary Committee Meeting. My dream responded by supplying legislators in cameo appearances.

At the climatic moment of my last particularly horrifying nightmare, I heard a noise that woke me out of it. It sounded guttural. It was a man making the sound. It was like a moan but as though someone was making it with a sock in his mouth. The hairs on my arm stood at attention and I got this all-over creepy feeling. I felt an unknown weight on my thigh, as though someone was draped over my bed and leaning on my side.

I opened my eyes.

There was a man kneeling at my bedside. He was most likely in his early thirties with sandy brown hair that came down to the tops of his ears, parted down the middle. He was wearing an orange or red shirt that was somehow not really of this time, but I can't say why. He was facing me with his right arm leaning against my thigh and his left arm reaching out towards me. In his left palm was a white, glowing object about the size of a teardrop shaped Christmas Tree ornament. It emanated white light.

He was making the guttural noise. He looked like he really needed me to take the object. He sounded dire.

I lost my shit.

I sat up and my cat jumped off the bed and scampered away.

I woke to a more cognizant level only to realize that I was sitting straight up yelling, "What is going on? What is going on?" Each time louder and with more fear.

Then, "GARRETT!"

The man was gone but the shadows of our bedroom did not seem right. It was like I could still see the after-glow of the object in the blackness.

I couldn't speak. I spit out that I was having a nightmare. Gar said soothing words, half-asleep, and reached to pull me close.

"Garrett, there was a man at the bed. I saw a ghost. I'm really scared." My voice began to crack. I caught hold of myself and realized that I wasn't that scared. He wasn't all that scary-- just needy.

"Do you want me to turn on the light?" Gar asked, all of a sudden sounding more awake.

"Yeah, for a second." I don't really recall the light being on. I asked Garrett to close the closet door and that man got out of bed at 3:30 in the morning to shut the door, no questions asked. I apologized. I told him that the dream was so real, I was certain there was a ghost.

He did not make fun of me. We have told our 'ghost stories' in the past. I don't know for sure what I believe, but I know, I am not ready to see them.

Garrett held me tight and I asked where the cat was. I felt like my cat would be a great protector in the situation. Garrett offered to go get him, but I said no. I kept telling myself how silly I was being. I laid there for quite a while, afraid to shut my eyes and even more afraid to open them. I just focused on Garrett's arms and the sounds of three dogs gently snoring.

The cat came back to bed and laid right by my head. For some reason, in my mind, that made it OK to go back to sleep.

The rest of the night my dreams continued to be lucid, but in these dreams I was attempting to reconcile what I thought I saw with a rational explanation. I told myself to dream up reasons why that was not a ghost. The last dream I had was that my aunt had come for a surprise visit to help with wedding preparations. Her flight was late and she came into my bedroom to check on me. That noise was just her clearing her throat.

"I can buy that," I told myself in my dream. "Keep dreaming it."

So, I did. I woke up this morning remembering several versions of my ghost-sighting reconciliation dream.

I don't know where my head gets this stuff. I don't know exactly what happened last night. I do know that it is after midnight, I'm tired, but I'm a bit nervous about going to sleep. I can't handle another sleepless, tiresome night like that again. More than that, I definitely can't handle another man in my bedroom.

The dangers of chicken soup

I've been cooking like a mad woman. For me, the methodical process of cooking is good for relieving stress and taking time to think. After several yummy meals I decided to boil some chicken to make shredded chicken enchiladas. They were delicious and I was not about to throw all that good stock away. So I added carrots, onions, a bit more stock, seasonings, more chicken, wild rice and-- Viola!-- homemade chicken soup.

I made the soup first.

I got sick after.

It's like my body knows that homemade chicken soup should only be consumed when one has a debilitating head cold.

Sickness. It's running through me. I can see both tonsils all plump and engorged at the back of my throat. With eyeballs burning and ears ringing I have attempted to get out of bed to go to work, thought better of it, and climbed right back in. While it's great that we are in recess at the legislature, I hate that I feel like crap knowing that I'm supposed to be leaving for the mountains in about 18 hours to celebrate our engagement anniversary.

I will go even if I'm bleeding my eyes out. Eyes aren't so necessary up there anyhow. We follow strict rules in the mountains:
1. No cell phones
2. No computers
3. No TV or movies
4. No music
5. No regular clothes other than really warm pajamas
6. No watches or clocks
7. Yes to books
8. Yes to board games
9. Yes to sexy lingerie you got at your bridal shower

I eagerly anticipate these weekends where time stops, all I hear are the sounds from the woods and the waterfalls out back and all I wear are slippers and warm sweaters, scarfs and yoga pants for months. We spend the days reading books, napping, snuggling, playing games, cooking and hopping in and out of the hot tub every hour. The nights are spent the same way with trips out to the fire pit, weather permitting, to star-gaze or smoke a cigar.

This is the third year we have been to this magical place. Nothing is going to stop me from hopping in that car. I will go to Urgent Care tomorrow if need be.

Until then, I will try and sleep it off.


NOTE-- As I lay in bed for the second day in a row I find myself bored. Hence the new layout. Let me know what you think. I use Firefox and I have found it looks much different on IE7.

Three and a half months... Holy Shit

I'm sitting on my couch with Gidge putting off cleaning out the linen closet (which has turned into a dumping zone for everything that is not linen) and my closet (I don't know where to begin except to say that I can't shut the doors) and procrastinating.

I'm so happy I did, cause Boodles penned a non-Chicago blog about getting ready for our hitching day! I laughed and got all excited and then...

My breath got caught.

Holy Shit! It's not too far away. Quickly, I logged onto the premier wedding site for help.

The lovely folks at The Knot have created some lovely planning tools to assist in creating your very own lovely wedding. It's all lovely and white and pink and chock full of etiquette.

Seriously though, I have been able to use quite a bit from that site, and I thank them for it. For example, they have a great guest tracker where you enter all the names, addresses and so on for your guests into this database and it keeps tracks of RSVPS, gifts, thank you notes and all that jazz. Very helpful, that guest tracker is.

They also have a To-Do list for every month leading up to the wedding including every conceivable detail that one may forget about. This list is incredibly helpful except for the fact that it freaking freaks me out. Why is it that every time I log in it says that I have accomplished 38 tasks and that I have 146 more to go? Oh that's right, that's about all I have done. Grrrrr......

All the amazing women in my life have made generous offers of helping with everything. I completely appreciate their sentiment. I'm a damn lucky grrrl. But I have no idea how to delegate this stuff. I'm thinking when it gets closer to the day, I may be able to do some of that.

I'm happy that my friends are having fun with getting dresses. Their wear consists of black dresses (they can wear one they already have or get a new one) and red shoes. Black fishnets (or other suitable rockin' leg wear) will complete the get-up. Ms. Woody, a grrrl after my own heart, bought the perfect red and black vintage pumps and will later find a dress to match them. I admire her prioritization.

The Face has her entire get-up completed. It's gorgeous, just as she is. Speaking of The Face; she is a professional harpist. After three of the grrrls sing a Sam Cooke song while everyone walks down the 'aisle,' she will play her harp while I walk down. the best part is, I get to pick the song and she will re-write it for the harp. The first three choices I have sent to her are:

Question-- Old 97s (a favorite indie-country, rock n' roll, pop band)
Last Date-- Floyd Kramer (A late 60s or early 70's instrumental by a country king)
Hold Me, Kiss Me, Thrill Me-- Mel Carter (one of the best doo-whop songs ever)

Thoughts?

At the end of the ceremony, when Gar and I kiss, a portion from a Tom Waits song will play. He belts "Oh Yeah" over and over again in a completely rockin' tune from the triple disc Orphans, Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards. Our first dance is also to Tom Waits--"Picture in a Frame." We chose that song because Gar made a film for my birthday that documents our times in the mountains and in Japan and set it to that song and to the sounds of Esoteric Buddhist Monks Chanting at 5:30 in the morning at the most holy site for Esoteric Buddhists in the world.

Thinking of that makes me smile. The night we stayed in the monastery in Japan and woke to meditate at 5:30 am was incredible. I really should blog more about Japan. I think it was during that trip that I realized Gar was the man I wanted to be with for a very long time. And I think it may be one of my favorite places in the world.

Now that I've gotten ridiculously stream-of-consciousness on this blog, I will close with two things.

One, Gar is sitting on his computer now playing the music from the movie Once. This movie is fabulous. I'm happy listening to it.

Two, this coming weekend is our one-year anniversary of being engaged. We are going back to the cabin in the mountains where it all went down. We have asked the owner to go a little lighter on the chlorine so that we don't get the same chemical burns from the hot tub. We are so excited. No phones, no TV, no music, no watches. Just us, the waterfall, the hot tub, the cabin, board games, food and sweet, sweet love.

Perfection!

The shower on Saturday was *the* best bridal shower ever thrown. It's true.

I showed up at Ms. Woody's house around 1:30 and began noticing all of the surprises. New lingerie and panties were hanging from the ceiling. Custom chocolate bars were all over the tables. Food was everywhere. Makings for martinis were back in the kitchen-- next to the martini glasses that she and her husband etched the shower motif onto by hand. The best part though had to be the poster they hung over the mantle. It's a 6 foot poster of Garrett doing a strip-tease.

I take that back. The best part was that Gar's mom wants a wallet-sized copy of the photo.

I had a damn BLAST!!!!

My girlfriends went all out. They had some fun shower games (bridal cranium and those quizzes where you find out who knows the most about me and Gar). And then a ten-ton of presents.

Seriously.

Spoiled rotten.

I was a bit nervous having Gar's family at a 'lingerie or pamper the bride' shower, but I shouldn't have been. His mom got me sexy lingerie. After I opened it, she said to the group, "I would have liked to spend that money on something a bit more sensible. Something that you would actually wear for longer than 10 minutes."

I about fell out of my chair.

I attempted to make a toast to all the women in my life after the gift-opening. I started to cry and I cut it too short. It deserved an hour. They are the most amazing women in the world. I am the luckiest woman in the world. I am so happy. I love them so much. It is such a gift to be surrounded by so many incredible women. I am so thankful.

After the folks left, the par-tay began. The men came over and we had one of the wildest parties I have experienced in a long time.

After midnight, it was time to go. I went over to Garrett who was on his knees singing karaoke to anyone who would listen and said, "It's time to go honey. We need to be at the airport in the morning."

I couldn't help but smile at him. Yes, he was shit-faced. But I couldn't have been happier about it. I knew then that he had recovered from his head injury.

I'm just so thankful.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow

.... you're only a day away.

Yay! Tomorrow is the wedding shower! Yahootie. Planned by amazing friends, some of whom blog (My Daily Struggle, Memoirs of a Tracy, and Chiblog-o), it should be a blast!

The theme on the invitation is "The Girly Show_er" complete with a picture of a lady taking a bath in a martini glass.

With the object of the day being to pamper and indulge me (via lingerie, make-up, creams, facial stuff, etc), I feel like I am anticipating a little bit of heaven.

The most exciting part of it all is all the amazing women in my life. My shower list was 27 women long-- and, sadly, that's without the women in my family as they can't make it here.

I am so incredibly lucky to have so many AMAZING women in my life.

To them-- I thank you. I love all of you and you inspire me every day.

Wha Happened?

Have you ever seen the film A Mighty Wind? My favorite line in that movie is, "Wha happened?" It used to crack me up every time it was uttered.

I'm not such a fan of that line anymore. Over the holidays Garrett must have asked me, "Babe, what happened?" about 120 times, never remembering my answer. There was no humor in the situation. Just fear.

Garrett and I left Atlanta on the Sunday before Christmas to head up North to Kalamazoo, MI to spend the holidays with my family. We planned to stop that night in Edwardsburg, MI, which is right on the Indiana border, to spend the night at my friend JP's lake house.

This is no ordinary house. JP's great-grandfather built it himself out of stone. It is beautiful and I have many, many good memories of being at this house in the middle of summer, swimming, sailing, sitting by a huge bonfire, and spending time with some of my best friends in the world.

In the wintertime, this house is magical. We arrived in the snow and below zero windchill temperatures. Snow was dancing off the roof and formed swirling clouds in the night air. Icicles hung from the sides of stone. The stone walkway was iced over and slippery. Inside, a fire was roaring and the whole family was there preparing dinner and greeting us with hugs, kisses, smiles and PBRs. This, to me, is Christmas.

After 12 hours of driving-- with some scary, slippery roads-- Gar and I settled in front of the fire and talked and laughed with JP and his family for several hours. Around midnight, his folks left for Kalamazoo, leaving us friends to spend the rest of the evening together.

The first priority was to go out back to the lake. Garrett, my Southern man, had never been on a frozen lake like Eagle lake was that night. So he and Keith went on down and slid around a bit on the ice. It was cold. I mean, very cold. And windy. None of us could handle it down there for long. I was attempting to take pictures of Garrett on the ice, but it was snowing so hard, I found it difficult to do.

Then Gar's scarf blew off and he quickly chased after it. In the process of doing so, he slipped, his feet came up from underneath him, and he fell on the ice. What I didn't know right then is that he completely, 100%, landed on the back of his skull.

I rushed over to him after I realized that he had hurt himself. He said he was OK. He was rubbing his head. We were all cold and I was a little worried about him so we headed in.

Inside, we put another log on the fire. Poured some wine and began to talk. I offered to go get a boardgame out of my car, but Garrett said he was too tired to play. He's never too tired to play. I asked him again, "Are you OK?" He said, "I'm fine. I'm just really tired." I figured that was the case because we had been on the road for so long with only a few hours of sleep the night before.

About an hour or an hour and a half after coming in from the lake, Garrett got up to use the restroom. A couple of seconds later, we heard a thud. "Garrett?" I called to him and I got up to go find him. He hadn't made it to the bathroom. I found him in the hall, on his back, completely unconscious.

The next moments were a blur as I held his face and asked him to please, please wake up. I noticed that he had lost control of his bodily functions as a wet spot appeared through his three pairs of pants he had been wearing for warmth. I couldn't tell if he was breathing.

"Call 911! Get an ambulance!" I yelled in between asking him to please wake up.

I have never known fear like those moments. Even writing this makes my breath shallow, my chest heave, and tears spring up. I was petrified.

After what seemed like forever, but was probably about 30 - 45 seconds, Gar woke up. His eyes bobbled around in his head for a few moments as though they were spinning marbles. He moaned incoherently. And he immediately tried to get up. I kept telling him to stay down, but he was flailing. I somehow convinced him we were snuggling on the floor to keep him down. That worked for about 30 seconds.

The next hour was crazy. He was nauseous. He needed to be in the bathroom. He couldn't focus his eyes and his pupils were crazy. He was talking funny. He was hazy. The ambulance arrived from the snowy streets and the paramedics came to check him out. They asked him questions:

What's your name? Garrett

Hold old are you? I, um, (pause) 31. Honey, I say. You are 32.

What happened to you? I don't know.

Did you hit your head? I don't know.

What's your address? I don't know.

What day is it? I don't know.

What month is it? I don't know.

Do you know where you are? Kalamazoo. I don't know.

-- This is the craziest part--

Who is she? My fiance.

What's her name? Rebecca

When are you getting married? May 10, 2008

How in the hell did he have no idea that it was Christmas but he still remembered our wedding date?

They put him in the ambulance and begin to run tests and an IV. Gar bled a bit from the IV and it made the scene just all the more scary. They decided to take him to a hospital in Indiana because there were surgeons on duty there. So I climbed in the front seat of the ambulance and we crossed state lines to Elkhart, IN in the middle of a snowy night.

They needed to keep Garrett awake in the back. They tried to keep him talking. The paramedic said that the only thing he could remember and talk about was me. He told them how we met. He talked about our wedding. He kept calling out to me and I would tell him that I was right there. He started asking me then, "Babe, what happened?"

Over the next several hours in the ER, Garrett got violently ill, went in for a cat-scan, and asked about 100 more times, "Babe, what happened?" His memory did not improve and he was in so much pain. I just sat with him and told him 100 times, "You fell on the ice honey. We were at a lake and it was frozen. Your scarf blew off and you fell and hit your head. About an hour later you went unconscious. We're in a hospital in Indiana. They are making sure that you are OK. I am not going to leave you."

Thirty seconds or so after I responded to him he would ask, "Babe, what happened?"

I told him it was Christmas and he looked flabbergasted, as though he thought it was the middle of July.

He asked me if our address had the number '14' in it. It does not.

When they wheeled him away for the cat-scan, I lost it. I was sitting in the quiet, empty ER room. There was blood on the sheets from the IV. There was vomit on my clothes and I was holding his soiled clothes. They told me that he had a severe concussion and they needed to see if their was internal bleeding on his brain.

I was scared. I couldn't breath. I prayed to whomever would listen. I begged for him to be OK. I couldn't comprehend that he may need emergency brain surgery. I began to talk out-loud. I said over and over that he had to be OK.

I called my mom at 4:30 in the morning as I was about to have a panic attack. I cried and cried and asked to her to tell me that it would be OK. Not one person told me it was going to be OK. I needed her to tell me that.

Gar came back with, given the circumstances, good results. There was no bleeding but he had a swollen and bruised brain. They gave him morphine and anti-nausea drugs. I sat and held him. He continued to ask, "Babe, what happened?"

We left the hospital that morning and he slept for a couple of hours while we waited for the roads to Kalamazoo to be cleared. I couldn't sleep. I had to watch every breath that he took.

We drove to Kalamazoo and he was a bit more with it. At my folks house, we made a bed for him on the couch as he couldn't balance well enough for the stairs. He slept for the next 20 hours or so with me waking him every hour. On Christmas morning, his memory was pretty much back to functional. He couldn't remember what happened that night, but he still can't a week later, and he probably won't ever. He can recall little snapshots, but that's about it. It's probably better that way.

I haven't recovered all the way either. I'm struggling to let go of this fear and anxiety that something could happen to him. When I think about that moment when I couldn't get him to wake up-- when I thought that he may not be with us-- I about internally combust.

I love that man more than anything. I have never been so thankful before in my life. So thankful that he is OK.

So thankful.

So thankful.

So thankful.

I think I need to end this post with some happy Christmas photos.

Elf Puke

The official countdown to gettin' hitched is now under 5 months. And while I have been a horrible blogger, I have been a good crafter. I've been meaning to post the picture of the table runners we made. We made 16 of them out of these gorgeous fabrics:The family is not to crazy about us having black tablecloths-- but I think it will look lovely with the bright jewel tones that the runners have. And tons of candlelight.

I'm using the same fabric and making many 20 x 20 pillows to put on the built-in cement risers by the stage at the art gallery. After the wedding I plan on making a quilt from the fabric of the runners.... I may be 65 when I actually finish it, but that is the plan.

On other news, Gar and I really wanted to get a tree this year. We shopped around and decided that we would get an artificial tree and use it year after year.

Then we saw the price tags. The trees we wanted were nearly $300. Seeing that every spare dime is going in the honeymoon fund, we settled on the $2.50 crappy tree from the dollar bins at Target (pictured on the mantle).

Then we made our living room look as though an elf threw-up all over it.

But most importantly, we hung our family's stockings-- one for me, one for Gar, one for each of our three dogs and one for the cat.

After X-Mas we are going to go check out some stores and see if the prices of the trees go down. Anyone have any tips?

Wicked Cool Town

I forgot how cold it gets up North. It gets cold. Winter hats, gloves, scarfs, down jackets-- you name it, I wore them all. But the cities of Providence and Boston were worth it.

I was able to go and visit my best friend The Face. She and I met on the bus to kindergarten. She is my soul sister.

Another best friend from my hometown of Kalamazoo is working on his doctorate at Harvard. I was lucky enough to hang with him in both Cambridge and at the Bell and Hand-- the oldest Tavern in the United States.

The Freedom Trail through Boston was fascinating. I was pretty excited when I saw the place where the Democratic Party decided to adopt the Donkey as its mascot, for lack of a better word. I still don't know why though. I must find this out. Anywho, as Al Sharpton said a couple of elections back, "I rode that donkey."

I missed my honey and my animals. I missed them so much. So much. Eight days away was too much. I thought that when Gar picked me up from the airport we would never make it back into the car. We just had to hug. And every time I saw a dog in Boston my heart hurt a bit. I was having a snuggle deficiency.

While in Boston, I wanted to show the Face and her new man pictures of my pets. So I pulled out my laptop and opened the folder in 'My Pictures' entitled "Pets." When I open the photos they take up my entire computer screen. Needless to say I was a bit surprised when this photo came up:

We all just about died from laughter. This is how Gar and I entertained ourselves before cable. We put panties on our head.

Happy Thanksgiving!

In celebration of the magic and the reality of a Unicorn

Have you ever known someone that you are just so proud to know? It's the complete antithesis of worrying how other people will view that person and in that turn view you. It's like you want to shout to the world that you and that person are connected and at the same time, you want to watch that person live his or her life because it's just so wonderful to watch.

That's how I feel about Garrett. I am so proud to introduce him to people. I'm so proud to stand beside him. I'm so proud of what a damn good man he is. I'm so proud of me for recognizing that and waiting for him.

We actually met online about 2 and half years ago-- around April or May 2005. Our first "date" was on July 14th 2005, it was also the first time we ever met face-to-face. Those first few dates were so good-- and they stirred up so much goodness in me-- that when he left about a week later I couldn't think of how to describe it to my friends except by calling him the Unicorn.

Unicorns are mythical, magical creatures. He was so amazing that after that wonderful week, I wondered, did he really exist? He couldn't have. He must have been a unicorn.

A series of events kept us from moving forward romantically in July, but we kept in each other's lives. While I look back on that now and realize it was a good thing as neither of us were ready for a committment, I remember the confusion and the frustration at the time.

It was hard.

I'm a confident, tall and fairly strong woman. Garrett made me blush. He made me stammer. We had lunch every Tuesday together that fall and about 10 minutes before I knew he would call to meet me my knees actually would shake. No joke. They would shake and I would feel short of breath. When I was with him I felt like I just rambled and babbled and I felt like an idiot. Something about that man was incredibly intoxicating.

By the time October rolled around, I sought out my amazing friend Danny's advice. I told him how my body betrayed me when I saw Garrett. I told him how my insides felt like how those women who would greet the Beatles when they stepped off an airplane in the 60s looked.

I was screwed.

I told Danny that I could no longer lunch with Garrett. While we had a few dates through that time, it wasn't enough for me to harness my self confidence with him. I asked Danny, as a respectful and thoughtful man, would he prefer if a woman just blew him off and stopped taking his calls or if she just said, "You know, I really like you and I just can't have lunch with you anymore." He said the latter was better-- but didn't think me cutting Garrett out of my life was a good idea.

Turns out, I didn't need to. Garrett was on a film shoot for all of October and we only occasionally chatted over email. I took that time to get myself together.

I saw Garrett in November and we had lunch. That Thursday, November 10th, he called me. I was at a local pub, where I was every Thursday night, playing Trivia with friends. I remember what I was wearing-- jeans, a ratty brown sweater and a hat. I wasn't looking cute and I was in a cynical and jaded mood. I was down on love. I was all about me. I was selfish.

He said he was coming to the pub. I told my friends, "You all are about to meet the Unicorn." They knew just who I was talking about.

When Garrett got there all those feelings came back to me. I pushed them down. I allowed myself to just put it all out there. I told him that I thought I really liked him. I told him that I almost blew him off because, for some reason, I just couldn't handle being with him. He told me the same. He told me that I was hard to read. That me keeping him at arm's distance sent him messages that I didn't intend to send. I wanted to protect me. He saw that as casual.

We put it all out.

That Saturday night, November 12th, I was on a quasi-date with someone else when he called. I literally ditched the quasi-date (and the man was on crutches.... I know, I'm not proud) and met the Unicorn at a bar on another side of town. We talked all night. I was smitten. My body was intoxicated by it. I knew again, I was screwed.

Around 3:00 am, sitting outside this bar, he kissed my neck. The man is the best kisser that has ever lived. In July, when we shared our first kiss, I was soooo happy to have been sitting down because my knees gave out. I buckled. He's that good. Anyhow, after he kissed my neck, I leaned up to kiss him proper and he turned away. I couldn't believe it! He said, "Let's get out of here." A glint was in his eye. I followed, in awe at his ostentatious behavior. I couldn't believe he teased my kiss.

He told me later, he just wanted to go home with me. I told him flat out, as I followed my mind and not my pheromones, "I'm not sleeping with you." He said, "I know."

He came to my house. He took my hand and led me to my bed. We snuggled and kissed all night. I slept well, despite my nerves about being near him.

November 12th was the beginning of our official start. Not everything went to plan right after that. But I knew, through the struggles, that I was going to wait for him. Something I had never done before. I somehow knew it would be worth it. He had some personal issues that he had to respect, and they took time. I had a few loose ends to wrap up myself.

I didn't have long to wait. We saw each other when we could. By mid-December, we were exclusive. By early January 2006 he told me that he was falling in love with me. By that following May we were traveling to Japan together, he was basically living in my apartment and we had put a down-deposit together on a house we were going to rent. And on January 27th 2007 Garrett got down on one knee and proposed.

I suppose Unicorns don't really exist. The mythology is just that-- a myth. Or perhaps, they are real. Maybe I am just lucky enough to live in a magical world inhabited by one.

Either way, he's not so much a unicorn to me anymore. He's the love of my life. And as I sit here in Providence, Rhode Island, hundreds of miles away from him, I can't stop thinking about how much I love him. I can't believe it's been two years and I miss him like I do. We're just good together. And I'm so happy. I need to go and call him now.

I *love* love

To my friends Kristi and Jason on your anniversary--

Today, Halloween, is Kristi and Jason's 5-year wedding anniversary. I absolutely love these two people. And they love each other.


I think they were dating around 3 years before their engagement. It was one of those instantaneous starts to a relationship. They met at a bar in Atlanta and from that moment on-- they were never apart.
The stories about the time they were dating are incredible to hear-- full of adventure, full of love. They supported each other through rough jobs, surgeries, sickness and health.

Kristi told me once that she wouldn't have been able to get through the hardest time in her life, when her mom passed away, without Jason. She told me that when her dad called her the first thing he asked her was, "Is Jason there?"

They just fit together.

When Jason proposed, Kristi was so surprised. They were at a restaurant and both of their families were there. I have heard both of them tell me that story separate from one another. The retellings are nearly identical. Both of them cried and cried from happiness. Both of them were completely in love.

I didn't meet this amazing couple until about 4 years ago-- so I wasn't at the wedding. And I hear it was a heck of a wedding at that. With chaos ensuing up until the big day because of work, they still worked together to pull it off. The dress rehearsal was a masked ball, the wedding was on Halloween night. After, they flew to the Dominican Republic for their Honeymoon.

Now, 5 years later, they are home-owners in an up and coming neighborhood, Civic League participants and, most amazingly, loving friends who literally stop at nothing to help others out. Between their new puppy, their 5 cats, and the crazy street they live on-- something is always happening. And they always do that 'something' together.

Throughout this blog I have mentioned (or I will) events like Weinerfest, 4th of July parties, trips to Florida, rafting in the mountains, New Year's Eve Extravaganzas, Drrrrrty Santa X-Mas parties-- they all happen because of these two folks.

They just work together.
You can feel the love and respect that these two have together. (And that goes beyond Jason holding the noodle so that Kristi can bong a beer in the kiddy pool at the best ever 4th of July party.)

They take good care of each other. If Kristi has a late grrrlz night, he will always pick her up. On UGA game days, she wears red and black and watches the game with Jason. She's always thinking to make his favorite carnie foods. He consistently asks, "Babe, do you need help with that?"

I have learned so much about relationships and marriage. Kristi told me the first year of marriage is hard, it's all about communication. I look to her for expertise. She tells me how her and Jason learned to communicate with one another-- and how it strengthened their bond. When it comes to the hard times she told me that sometimes, you just need to be able to get pissed, say f$%ck that, and then get over it. This couple does not hold a grudge. They are all about compromise and respect, and they respect each other not just as their partners but as two different people. And every once in while, like last Saturday's Halloween party, you can totally catch them making out in some shadow like they just met.

I'm so happy for them on their 5 year anniversary. I know there are so many more to come.

And, I'm so lucky to call them my friends. Tonight's Anniversary Party is going to be spectacular!

Report back from Centennial Park

The Dalai Lama was amazing. My co-worker and I walked down to Centennial Park last Monday and joined the ten thousand other people there to hear his Holiness.

It's difficult to explain just what it was that was so phenomenal, so inspiring, so peaceful. His Holiness spoke of Compassion, the end of violence, of complete affection. He spoke of love. He said that, "The concept of war is outdated." He didn't speak like a man who gives speeches all the time. His cadence was disheveled, his inflection pitchy. Yet he was captivating.

I have never heard anyone speak his or her own truth the way I heard the Dalai Lama do just that. I was immediately aware that I was hearing an incredible, intimate gift-- his own authentic truth.

The unity of the crowd was delightful. The meditative music was soaring through the air from the speakers. The glimpse of hope, of what can be, was more than what I could have dreamed of.

After he spoke my co-worker and I, with perma-grins across our faces, just hugged and hugged each other. We felt the love. We felt the peace. We were on a high. It lasted for days.

I called my sister, Garrett, the Face, and Lady A right after event. I was thinking of all of them while I sat on the damp grass listening to his Holiness with my eyes shut.

I needed to tell them how much I love them.

And I did.

Sex with a Feminist Man *IS* Better

This study is really no surprise to me, but it was a fun read. Generally speaking, when one is confident and believes in one's self, I think, it becomes difficult not to believe in equality-- feminism. So from one happy feminist to others:

Feminism And Romance Go Hand In Hand
Science Daily —
Contrary to popular opinion, feminism and romance are not incompatible and feminism may actually improve the quality of heterosexual relationships, according to Laurie Rudman and Julie Phelan, from Rutgers University in the US. Their study* also shows that unflattering feminist stereotypes, that tend to stigmatize feminists as unattractive and sexually unappealing, are unsupported.

It is generally perceived that feminism and romance are in direct conflict. Rudman and Phelan’s work challenges this perception. They carried out both a laboratory survey of 242 American undergraduates and an online survey including 289 older adults, more likely to have had longer relationships and greater life experience. They looked at men’s and women’s perception of their own feminism and its link to relationship health, measured by a combination of overall relationship quality, agreement about gender equality, relationship stability and sexual satisfaction.

They found that having a feminist partner was linked to healthier heterosexual relationships for women. Men with feminist partners also reported both more stable relationships and greater sexual satisfaction.

According to these results, feminism does not predict poor romantic relationships, in fact quite the opposite.The authors also tested the validity of feminist stereotypical beliefs amongst their two samples, based on the hypothesis that if feminist stereotypes are accurate, then feminist women should be more likely to report themselves as being single, lesbian, or sexually unattractive, compared with non-feminist women.

Rudman and Phelan found no support for this hypothesis amongst their study participants. In fact, feminist women were more likely to be in a heterosexual romantic relationship than non-feminist women. The authors conclude that feminist stereotypes appear to be inaccurate, and therefore their unfavorable implications for relationships are also likely to be unfounded.* Reference: Rudman LA & Phelan JE (2007). The interpersonal power of feminism: is feminism good for romantic relationships? Sex Roles (DOI 10.1007/s11199-007-9319-9)

Lovebirds

I was tagged to write on the environment today after my post about how to convince conservatives that Global Warming is indeed a problem that needs to be addressed—NOW! Apparently there is something going around on the blogosphere about a variety of issue-based topics. I hope my slight deviation on today’s topic, “The Environment,” won’t exclude me from further participation.

I had a plan to write about Glaciers—particularly those in Glacier National Park in Montana. This summer, on a camping trip, I saw my very first glaciers. Sadly, they may be the last I ever see. They are melting so rapidly. Currently there are 26 glaciers in the park (there used to be over 150). They say that by the year 2030 they will all have melted. My children will most likely never see a glacier.

But instead, inspiration hit me today to write about love—love in nature and our own connection to animals.

Today I read about bald eagles. I saw so many bald eagles in Montana and they, like the glaciers, are awe-inspiring. What I didn’t know about, until today, is the mating ritual of bald eagles. Bald eagles mate for life. During the courtship process of looking for a mate, the flirting eagles meet high in the air, lock talons and allow themselves to free-fall to the ground—swooping at the last moment to avoid crashing into the earth.

“As for the bald eagles' aerial displays during courtship, most of them are very impressive. One is called the cartwheel display, where the eagles will fly high, lock talons, and then cartwheel to earth, only breaking apart at the last moment before they hit the ground or water. Another is the chase display, where after chasing each other they will lock talons and roll together. And finally there is the roller-coaster display, where an individual eagle will fly high, fold its wings, then plummet down, only to swoop up at the last minute to avoid hitting the earth. While these aerial activities are certainly captivating to watch, eagle biologists report that the ritual of building the nest together is probably more powerful in securing a tight bond between the pair.”

I am overcome with the poignancy of this act. To me, it is the very personification of my feelings about falling in love. Generally said, falling in love is scary. I have never been more exhilarated, free and scared then I have been since I have met Garrett. Falling in love with him is the most tumultuous experience I have ever had. I sometimes have moments where the fear of, “What if this doesn’t work out?” controls me. I feel like we are flying through life, hand-in hand, (or talon-in-talon) right now and it is absolutely glorious. But then sometimes I worry if we are going to crash-land.

It is in the very nature of a bald eagle to take this risk. They soar through the air and then fall through the air with nothing but the connection of holding onto their partners. Together, they avoid disaster.

Maybe the best part of this whole comparison is what the eagle biologists then report. They say that “While these aerial activities are certainly captivating to watch…. The ritual building the nest together is probably more powerful in securing a tight bond between the pair.”

So perhaps, the highs and lows, the soaring and the fear of falling, is what enhances the process of falling in love. The excitement feels so incredible. But it’s what we do with that love that makes it last. After the amazing acrobatics of flight, the two eagles build their home together. They bond over this act of stability.

Then, they mate for life.

It is my full intention, with a determination beyond what I regularly employ, to mate for life.

I think I need to pay attention and remember these facts about the bald eagles. They seem to know a thing or two about love.

My inner-hallmark-greeting-card makes me love this

The Big, Big News!

I think the biggest news can be found here.

A HUGE Congratulations!

Dinner with the ladies

So I went to the doc this morning and they think I passed a kidney stone.

A kidney stone!!!

After several tests that made me burst into tears at a health care professional's office for the second morning in a row, it was suggested to me to buy a net so that I could use it to piss on and then find out if I am passing "sand granules" from my kidneys.

Through tears I was just oh so pleased by this suggestion. I picture a goldfish net hanging next to the towels. I'm not really down with that.

I also really liked the part of them questioning me several times about how many partners I had in the past two years.

"Are you sure it has only been one?"

"Are you positive?"

"Yes I'm positive. You can rule out the Clap. I promise. Can we now get to my incredible kidney pain?"

After all that, a quick looksey proved that I was telling the truth. It's frustrating to be in pain and know, with a sort of instinctual knowledge, what is hurtin' and what is not.

I called Gar and he met me for lunch and let me bitch about this for the second day in a row. The man is patient and loving. He sent me text messages and called me for the rest of the day to check on me.

But I slept through them. I got home from the doctor late in the afternoon and did not go into the office. I was supposed to go to a fundraiser for a member of our House of Representatives at the Democrat Bar at 5:00. I woke up at 6:00. I had slept through my alarm and through 4 phone calls. Apparently, my body needed sleep.

I jumped up. I called work. I threw on work clothes and bolted out the door and to the fundraiser. I felt frantic, as I always do when I oversleep.I am over healthcare. My friend with cancer made it, damnit, so would I. After the fundraiser, I went to a ladies night.

FABULOUS

My mentor, and amazing friend, has cancer. We used to go to out for martinis once or twice a month with the ladies. AMAZING ladies. But that has been on hold for a while.

Tonight we went to her house. I LOVED every second of it. She is doing so well. I could not admire someone more. I am so grateful to have her and all the amazing women I do in my life.

So, so grateful.

And now, I sit at home in bed with 3 dogs and a cat waiting for my honey to come home from a late-night meeting from his new project. Besides being incredibly creative, progressive, and thought-provoking, this project is his passion. I can't wait to hear how it has progressed.

I can't wait to see this man.

It's Just Another Manic Monday

I haven't blogged in a week because work has seriously taken up all of my time. I had big event last Thursday that, thankfully, went well. I then spent a couple of days breathing a giant sigh of relief that it was over.

Which brings me today.

The day that sucks.

So this morning I went to the dentist who, after several bouts with the insurance company, diagnosed me with something or another so that the dang insurance company would pay for an over-priced piece of plastic that would fit on my bottom teeth and would then keep me from grinding off my fillings and enable me to make-out with Garrett without suffering from face pain.

I get to the dentist today to pick up said piece of plastic. A few weeks ago I paid $217 dollars (20% as insurance covers 80%-- or so they said 2 weeks ago). The incredibly kind receptionist tells me this morning, at 8:55 am, that she has tried to fix it, but the insurance company only paid $380 and that I owe $746!!!

How can this be? I ask her over and over. The quote they gave me has this little fine print that says the estimate might change. The insurance company is called and notta.

I burst into tears.

The incredibly nice receptionist tells me she is going to cry with me. She whisks me into the dentists chair, gingerly puts on my dentist-bib, and she and the dentist hand me Kleenexes while I lay there on my back, a lamp over my head and tears (and mascara) stream down my face. That would be $1,000 for a tiny piece of plastic that has had to come from the wedding fund and put on a credit card.

Freaking fantastic.

So I leave after an hour and get to the office where I find out my blackberry, which died this weekend, cannot be saved. It's kaput. In the middle of ordering a new one online, the website flips out and says I must go to a store to do this. I hate cellphone stores. However, there is one right near the CVS, where I also must go because....

After days of drinking cranberry juice, I realize that I have a sympathy UTI.

It's true.

Last Sunday we took the most amazing cat in the whole world, Cooper (aka, my soulmate), to the emergency vet because he was passing blood.

He got diagnosed with a UTI.

Apparently, I felt so bad for him that I got one too.

As I sit here and type this I am waiting for a phone call from the nurse at my OB/GYN's office. You see, I really like my OB/GYN. Last time I got a UTI, I just popped in, saw the nurse and was not even charged for the doctor's visit. My insurance paid my for the lab tests. At the big yearly deal, he leaves chocolates on the chair.

Well my work has changed our health insurance so I can no longer go to my OB/GYN because he is not in my new 'network.' So I called them and asked if they would call in a prescription for me without being seen. I'm waiting, as patiently as someone with a UTI can, for the Doc's permission to do just that.

As I was waiting I found out that my dear friend and mentor's battle with cancer is not going as well as we thought. More chemo for her. I can't even type about this. I burst into tears again.

Perhaps I should share some positive news so that I can snap out of being such a Debbie-Downer?

Garrett and I had a blast this weekend wedding planning. We bought fabric for the runners on the tables. Gar and I sewed them together. He liked using the sewing machine so much (I guess it is a kind of power tool) that he jokingly agreed to a quilt-off. I honestly think he would give it a go.

My favorite part of the weekend though was going to see The Pietasters on Saturday night.

I L-O-V-E-D The Pietasters in high school, when I was going through my punk-rock/ska phase. My friends and I would go to shows and skank with the best of them.

When I found out that were playing at Lenny's and in honor of my friends' Scooter Rally-- I was stoked.

And finally, a good excuse to get all rock n' roll again.

Beyond that, I completely enjoyed hanging out with Lady A, whom I love. She and have been keeping completely different schedules lately. However, I still talk to her every day:)

Apparently black and white pinstripes was in the air, as we did not plan on matching. But fabulous minds think alike....

Might I also add that I am sore from dancing. Jumpin' around like a crazy loon (me dancing) with Steel-Toed boots on gives the calves a hell of a workout. I danced my little heart out on Saturday night and cooled off with a $3 24-oz PBR. You simply cannot beat that deal. Below, Lady A and I enjoy a hand-rolled cigarette made from European tobacco. Not a dime of it went to big Tobacco. As you can see, I haven't quit all that well. The time is upon me again.

And of course, Gar and I acting silly. We have a hundred of these pictures it seems. I stick out my hand with the camera in it and make a funny face. He nuzzles into my neck and face. Same pose, same picture-- just different locations and clothes in each one. Oh he is my love.