We interrupt this political discourse for a view from Belize

After the most amazing wedding ever, Gar and I rested for about 36 hours and then boarded a flight to Belize. We arrived in the Capitol, Belize City, and began our first leg of the honeymoon. We decided to spend 4 nights in three different locations in the country-- allowing us to really see a lot of Belize. In order to do that though, we had to fly around on the tiniest airplanes. I was completely nervous about these machines. But they turned out to be a great way to get around-- fast, fairly comfortable, on-time and they offered great views.
Our first stop was Ambergris Caye, an island off of the Northern tip of of Belize made famous for its close proximity to the second largest barrier reef in the world. There are no cars on the island (save a handful), just golf carts and water taxis. I loved traveling by boat everywhere we went.
The view from our Cabana was incredible. We rarely saw other people while we were there, except at dinner. It was the perfect place to unwind.
The cabana itself was lovely and romantic.
A snorkeling trip out to the reef culminated when we all jumped into the water, full of sharks and stingrays! Petting sharks and stingrays the size of the hood on my car was a rush.
On another day we went out fishing in the bay. We brought back our catch and the chef at the resort prepared our fish for us that evening.
One night, we went into town to party. We were told that we must go to the Pier Lounge and join the "chicken drop." On the beach you find a large wooden board divided into squares with paint. Each square has a number between 1 and 100 painted on it. For one dollar you buy a number. Then the hosts comes out with a basket and takes from it a chicken. After dancing slowly with the chicken, the host blows on the chicken's... ahem... ass... and then sets the feathery creature on the board. Whatever number the chicken poops on first becomes the winning number!

They host 4 drops a night and the entire town comes out for it. Hundreds of people gather around the board cheering for the chicken to shit on their number! The winner gets $100 Belize, and can keep it or donate it to the Belize Humane Society.

Imagine my surprise when Garrett disappeared for a moment and came back smiling. The next thing I knew, the Pier Lounge Host said, "I want to congratulate Rebecca and Garrett for just getting married! Rebecca, will you come forward-- we need you to drop the chicken!" I looked at Garrett and cracked up. I went to the host she handed me the basket with the chicken in it. Gently I picked the chicken up, danced around a bit and then... blew on its ass. I set the chicken down and she pooped immediately. Apparently, I'm that good.

The next drop? I won. The chicken so took a shit on my number.

So $100 Belize bucks richer, we left the island for Maruba Jungle Spa and Resort. Nestled in the heart of the jungle, we looked forward to exploring the interior of Belize. It was here that I drank more rum punch than one should think possible :)There were not too many folks at the small spa so we had a pool completely to ourselves. We read books, drank rum punch, and took breaks to get rain forest mud massages. We ate armadillo and wild boar-- and I don't recommend either of them. We smoked a hookah and spent evenings in the mineral hot tub.
We took a trip to Lamanai-- the largest Mayan ruins uncovered in Belize. It was astounding-- one of the best parts of the trip. (That's a shot of Garrett-- almost at the very top.)
In the mornings, we got up and went horseback riding.
After Maruba, we hopped on a small plane to our last destination-- the Village of Hopkins. A settlement town for the Garafuna people, Hopkins was my favorite city by far. The people were so kind, the bitters were so strong, and the food in the town was incredible.
We stayed just outside the village at a pretty but 'resorty' place. While we enjoyed all the day trips like zip-lining and cave-tubing, we found we liked the Village better than the resort. However, it all turned out OK because the temperature creeped up over 105 degrees and this Midwestern grrrl though she was going to die. We spent a couple of the mornings in the air conditioned room in a struggle to beat heat stroke.
In the evenings we drank champagne and smoked cigars by moonlight on the piers.

To cool off, we hung out at the bar in the pool. And of course, we brought board games with us.
Dinner was by candlelight at a private table on the beach. And Garrett was, as always, the most romantic husband and lovable playmate any woman on vacation in paradise could dream of.

We left Belize begrudgingly but quite tan. When the airplane began its decent into Atlanta, I was holding back tears. I couldn't believe the wedding and the honeymoon were all over. I said to myself as my ears were popping, "Don't cry. This is not the end-- but the beginning of something more spectacular than you can fathom."

I was so right.

catch-up time

Ms. Biddy and Ms. Crankbee-- Hello friends! It's so good to hear from you both. The love and the advice were very much appreciated, thank you. I still have catching up to do, but look for me on your blogs soon!

I was reading Wit's End, in my endless task of catching up in everyone's lives, the other day. She had a post about finding one's voice and how that can be difficult.

I SO related. I'm so much more than a grrrl gettin' hitched. The blog must evolve beyond that. However, I don't think that, until tonight, I have accepted that I may not find that voice for a while.

To that I say-- "Oh the hell well!"

Tonight I rant.

Probably not the voice that I am looking for, but at least there are words on this page.

1. I love the black box. What a great way to connect with other bloggers. Thank you for the comment and I will begin to do the same.

2. I will begin to do the same after this week. I have been planning an event for the judiciary in my state for months. There are 700 judges and lawyers coming. There's even a man flying in from London who is a member of the House of Lords tomorrow (similar to the Supreme Court in the US). I'm freaking busy. 'Nough said.

3. A co-worker of mind said I looked like Sarah Palin today and I was so angry I jokingly came at him with my coffee. Apparently because I had a ponytail and plastic framed glasses I looked like her. DAMN HER. I'm completely offended and I'm completely offended that me wearing a pony tail (which I do 361 days of the year) and me wearing my glasses (which I have worn for years every day of the year) makes me look like her. I came first. Her new found stardom is undeserved and completely ridiculous and unpatriotic. I wanted to tell my coworker that he looked like Hitler to see how he felt in such a ludicrous depiction.

4. We put a third offer on a third house tonight. We aren't going to get this one either. Our real estate agent, when asked what the average number of offers a first-time homebuyer makes, said, "One offer. " This is one of those times I hate going against the norm.

5. Marriage is work. It's been only 4 months and it's work. I don't say that because I don't love every minute-- I DO!!!!! It's just that so many women lately seem to think that marriage will bring them and their significant others closer together. I'm perplexed by that idea. It's actually overwhelming because the relationship starts at a new beginning-- the precipice of the future. And it's a damn daunting task. Thank the goddesses i have Garrett to look out upon our dreams with.

6. My republican co-worker today was treated by our staff as being the person who loves the American flag the most. It's a long story and I don't really want to go into it. Suffice it to say, at staff meeting we were talking about the Pledge of Allegiance. Everyone looked to him for his reaction as though his being right-wing gave him 0wnership of the flag. I have never been so offended. If I had a time machine I would go back in time and tell him, in front of everyone, "Stop looking so smug. You don't love or deserve the flag an ounce more than I do." Flaming liberals, like myself, have some work to do. I love our country the same, if not more, than those right-wingers. My acts of dissent are my greatest forms of patriotism. I should dare anyone to tell me differently.

7. I think that's it.

Love and goodnight, Beck.

ps-- Full-out wedding pictures to come during the week. They are awesome, untraditional and fabulous. I think you will all enjoy.

We done did it!

I'm a bit overwhelmed at the prospect of blogging about the past couple of weeks. That said, everything was more spectacular, magical, and loving than I could have thought possible.

I'm about to go play catch-up and read all my favorite blogs. Wedding and honeymoon pics, blogs and videos to come soon! And a brand new blog design and title.... cause Holy Shit! I'm not getting hitched, I am hitched!

Sine die

Sine Die is the last day of the legislative session. It was a nail biter, that one. I spent anywhere from 12- 18 hours a day working at the Capitol last week. And now, dear internets, it is, finally, done.

And not a day too soon.

I'm ready to shelve my heels, suits, briefcase, pounds of paper, templates for reporting, legislator smile and my political brain for a while.

At least for the next 31 days.

31 days until we get hitched.

May I just say, "Holy shit!"

Yikes, it is truly right around the corner. I couldn't do a damn thing last week on the wedding and I'm trying to make up for it this week.

Besides the to-do list of details to be completed, I'm just so ready. We've been engaged and thinking about this day for 14 months. Quite a build-up. Now it's upon us and it doesn't even seem real.

Over my blogging sabbatical I found a salon and did my hair run-through, got a facial, shopped for gifts for my grrrls, purchased all sorts of stuff for the food and tables, went attendant dress shopping, began to write a detailed run-through of the events, booked the rehearsal dinner space, reorganized the house, crafted the programs/favors (which are super rad), assisted in creating, addressing and mailing the invitations, logged the RSVPs, updated the registry, bought shoes, bought earrings, made a music-play list, and the list just goes on. Gar did all of that and bought a tux, got fitted, shopped, designed wine labels, the program/favor, the invitations, printed posters, and brought me roses for no reason.

Gar is doing his thesis, working full-time, working another full-time job on the website (soon to be announced), and working on the rental house.

I'd like to say that life will slow down a bit after we get hitched but it's not looking likely.

Therefore, my attention is directed at Belize.

Oh Belize. If you are anything like my daydreams I will be so happy.

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!

Yay! Our Save the Date cards are done!

Gar is so good. I love him.

Two years-- a give and take

Saturday marked the two-year anniversary of the time when I first met Garrett in person. We had been irregularly emailing each other since late April or May about a variety of things. I had provided some information to Garrett about immigration legislation for a documentary he was thinking of working on. He asked to buy me a beer for my help.

On July 14th, 2005 we met at Estoria. I remember it clearly. I had on blue jeans, a black V-necked sleeveless blouse and my hair was up in a sloppy ponytail. I had torn a ligament the month previously and I continued to walk around in an air-cast that I lovingly refer to as the moonboot. Garrett had on jeans, his old docs and a white Cuban shirt. He was smoking a cigarette when I approached the table. My breath got caught for a split second when I saw that in-person he was gorgeous. I limped to the table, smiled and shook his hand. I remember wishing that I had worn something different. I ordered a Stella. He asked for a 420.

We talked and laughed right away. It was easy. Yet the more I talked I began to get a bit nervous. I started to feel the beginnings of butterflies. I could not stop looking at the crinkles around his eyes, the way he touched his glass with his hands, his lips and his teeth. The Cuban shirt was a slim fit and I couldn't help but notice his broad shoulders looked incredibly squeezable. The white of the shirt showed off his tan.

He was intelligent and kind. We laughed together. We talked about politics, film, our jobs. We began the 'getting to know you' process. I liked everything that I heard. He came off as calm, relaxed and easy going. Yet he was obviously passionate, aware and driven.

I had no choice. I had to get out of there.

I wasn't expecting meeting someone who I felt as though I could be legitimately interested in. That was not in my immediate plan. I was single and happy. It was the summer of adventure with my girlfriend Lady A. I was emotionally attached to no man but my dog and cat. And I saw the situation as something that could possibly change that.

I stood up to leave and Garrett hugged me. He said he would like to see me again. I said absolutely. His hug felt good. I felt good. So good in fact, I asked him out for Friday night the next day over email under the precipice that he should meet my St. Bernard, Walter. He accepted.

That Friday night we met at Thinking Man Tavern. It was raining so I left Walter at home. We talked and drank 420. I can't remember what we wore. We played dominoes. We laughed. I invited him to my house to meet Walter. He came over and we talked on my roof deck for hours. At one point in the night I was speaking, mid-sentence, about something and he leaned in and kissed me.

It was the knee-buckling, holy shit, dizzying kind of kiss. It was and continues to be the best kisses of my life.

Flash forward two years to this Saturday. It's not really an anniversary proper because we had been emailing a bit for a few months. And it wasn't until a few months later that we started seriously dating. But it is very special. So it is fitting that we bought wedding bands on the anniversary of our first meeting on Saturday.

When Garrett proposed he gave me a gorgeous, early art-deco, solitaire diamond ring that was his great-grandmother's. He said we could change the setting to anything I wanted. After a short time with the ring I could not fathom changing a thing about it. I love the history. I would like to think that the ring could be passed down for generations just as his great-grandmother, a corsetier at the first Macy's in Atlanta, received it.

On Saturday we went to the Antique fair to look for a couple of different things including wedding bands. We ended up finding two rings.

We found a band that perfectly encompasses my engagement ring with diamonds and an art-deco design. It's gorgeous. It's like they were made for one another. We also bought my wedding band. When I had all three of them on my finger I nearly broke into tears. I had one of those 'I'm spending my life with you' waves. Those waves come at some of the most unexpected times and fill me with wonder and bliss. That is how I felt the whole way home.

Once home, I put on all three rings again and took pictures so that I could send them to my mom. (Sorry mom, I keep forgetting my camera at home, but they are coming.) I thanked Garrett again.

I don't think I can thank him enough.

What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet?

Boodles just emailed me because she is filling out her non-electronic, 'big grrrl' address book. You know the kind with ink, paper and, I'm willing to bet, a very stylish cover. She asked me if she would have to move my entry after I got married-- meaning, am I going to change my name?

The night Garrett proposed to me, I, out of nowhere, busted out with, "I'm not going to change my name. I always said if I get hitched that the man would take my name. I'm keeping mine."

Garrett looked at me-- surprised, because, as said, it came out of nowhere, and I think a bit sad. He said, "Baby, you don't have to change your name."

I said, "I may want to change it if we have kids. I think I would like the whole family to have the same name."

He said, "Aren't we still a family without kids?"

Yeah, good point.

My mind began to race. My name is a piece of my identity... isn't it?

I had never really reflected on my name, rather, the feminist in me always just spoke the loudest. "I'm not a piece of property. I don't have to conform to patriarchal lineage. I can keep my name."

You know the one from my father, and his father, and so-on.

Patriarchal lineage.

Then I said my name, Rebecca, in conjunction with his last name... which is oh-so-lovely.

It sounds like a name of a gorgeous Film Noir star. (As I would prefer not to type last names, trust me on this one-- it sounds good.)

So at this point I'm dealing with identity, feminism, past-beliefs, family, and now aesthetics. A pretty interesting pot of theory.

I remembered when my sister got married. They wanted to do something where they both took each other's names as middle names. Michigan didn't allow its citizens to have two middle names. Craziness.

I remembered going over to Garrett's brother's house. It was just after his kids' birthdays. The little cuties wrote us thank you notes for their gifts. The envelopes said:

Garrett *surname*
Becky

There was no last name on mine. Gar's mom said, "We realized we don't know your last name. But why learn it now when you will have ours soon enough?"

I remembered friends' weddings and the decisions that they made. All the decisions were befitting to the women that made them. Some chose to keep their names. Some chose to take on their lovers' names. Some hyphenated. A couple of friends considered scrapping both the names and coming up with a new one. One friend changed her name to her husband's, realized she didn't like it, and changed it back.

My mind cleared up just a short time later. I remembered the beautiful thing about feminism and how far it has come (even though it has a lot farther to go):

I actually have the choice. It is acceptable for me to choose whatever I want to do. I live in a time and place where what I decide is not as important as the fact that I even have a choice.

This makes me happy. Happier yet is that Georgia allows you to have more than one middle name.

My decision, for now, is this: I will keep my last name as another middle name. I will take on Garrett's last name. I will most likely not use his name at work. We are talking about moving in a few years and I would rather just avoid the confusion.

But I will enjoy the aesthetics. I like the look of the signature. I will sound like a beautiful Film Noir star. I will be married to my gorgeous Film Noir co-star.

I will always be happy that I have the choice.

Love-- it changes

The contract for the wedding space is signed and ready to be delivered tonight at 6:00. It's really starting to hit me, I'm going to get married to the man I love and we are going to experience life together. It's strange really, I can count on him being there for whatever the future holds.

I'm thinking that makes some of my fears more bearable.

In life one can expect to experience a certain amount of loss. Loss of loved ones, loss of youth, loss of pets-- sometimes devastating loss. I know these things are coming-- it's life, it's inevitable. It has just hit me that I won't be alone to face them. I envision the future and there are two shadows standing close surveying life together.

I also can tell myself that he is the man that will create life with me. Be there when life is born-- raise a life together. (In about 13 years.... ) And what I anticipate to be my greatest happiness in my life will be shared with him. I can't digest what that will mean-- not yet. It's too big, too abstract.

All these feelings are so new.

I never could have dreamed what the feeling of getting engaged would entail. I thought it would not be a big thang... We would be happy for sure, but I didn't think anything would change. I was so wrong. It was an elevation. It was pure. It was huge. I never would have known.

Frankly, I was never that hot on marriage. I struggled with the concept of marriage because the right to marry is denied to so many people that I love. How could I in good faith agree to participate in a ritual that is available to me just because I happened to be born straight? How could I invite people that I love to celebrate that ritual who are denied legal access to it?

The meaning of marriage is beginning to unfurl to me. It's getting more beautiful everyday. I never had a doubt in my mind when I agreed to marry Gar, but I'm starting to grasp a bit more of what it means. I realize that I will most likely continue to learn more throughout my life. We will continue to fight for equality for everyone, however we can. And in the meantime I will (I do) enjoy what will make this marriage unique-- what it is that makes us authentic.

It's so important that we make this our own-- a reflection of ourselves as individuals and a reflection of the love that has brought us together. I don't want this to just be a ritual that we go through. I want it to be more.

I think it will be.

I know it will be.

A Huge Congrats!

Ms. Dawnie Dawn and Mr. Ougday are getting hitched!!!

Sunday night he proposed to her in a manner incredibly befitting to themselves and to their love. We were all there to witness and take pictures (and cry and cry like I did).

Congratulations to you both! I love you both and I can't wait to see what the near future will bring... (and yay-- someone else to talk wedding stuff with!!!)

All right, all right... If you're gonna do it, then so am I!

This is how we spent our last night in Nova Scotia-- at the International Tattoo Convention!

Gar has wanted this tattoo for over a year. He got it done last year in the Dominican Republic with Henna-- and has since told me he was going to do it with real ink. At first I didn't want him to do it. But, after much discussion about it, I agreed.... and decided to join! And what better way to kick-off our one year countdown to getting hitched?

I guess this will be the true test to see if mom reads this, eh? (that "eh" is my homage to Canada) Love you mom.

--Beck

Step 1-- Gettin' Engaged

The first post.
Where to begin?
So much has happened; there is so much that we want to remember. And thanks to Ami who put this together for us so that we can share a bit about the excitement of getting the wedding together as well as joining the leagues of others we know who are technologically savvy and hip bloggers (read--Angela).

I guess I will start at the beginning-- with the engagement. I won't be able to do that weekend justice. But it's the right place to start. I promise that all our posts won't be this mushy---- ewwwww-- but, well, it's love. It has to be mushy sometimes. Here we go!

The Engagement!

I guess a good beginning would be the explanation of our title-- "Holy Shit! We're gettin' hitched!-- or Yahootie!" It's the name of our wedding. Gar and I got engaged on January 27th of this year.

Getting engaged was amazing. I was so surprised. It's strange really, I knew in my heart that I wanted to marry Gar-- but I wasn't really in any rush. I had figured that when it would happen-- well-- I don't know what I figured. But I wasn't prepared for how it would feel--INCREDIBLE!!!

The proposal itself could not have been better. Garrett took me up to our favorite cabin in the mountains. He had called my folks and told them a couple of days before. We arrived and relaxed with each other. He grilled out swordfish for dinner. We drank wine. As we are hot tub obsessive, we couldn't wait to take a dip in the tub overlooking the gorgeous waterfall in the backyard.

This is a picture of the backyard waterfalls. It's an amazing place.

This is where things did not go exactly to plan. Brenda, the kind woman who owns the cabin, must have put 10 pounds of chlorine into the tub (she knew we were getting engaged...). Our skin started to burn, turn red and then we developed rashes. We were chemical burned! And yet, despite the pain all we wanted to do was to be in the hot tub. So around midnight we began scooping trashcans of water out of the tub and filling it back up with pans of hot water from the kitchen and bathroom sinks. After much labor we got back in. It was better but we were so burned from the original soak that it still hurt like hell.

So we went inside and sat in the sun room overlooking the waterfalls. I was wrapped in a towel on one couch and Gar was wrapped in a towel on the other. We talked. We laughed. I felt so consumed with love for him. I remember telling him that he was my family and that I loved him so much. I couldn't stop gazing at him. Then he got up and said he would be right back.

He came back and knealed down next to the couch (I didn't realize until later that he was on one knee). He told me beautiful things about his love for me and our lives together. I still didn't know he was proposing. I thought we were having just an amazing, loving, beautiful moment. Then he asked me to marry him. He pulled a ring out of his pocket. It was his great-grandmother's ring. It is beautiful. I was in shock. I knew that my answer was "absolutely--YES," but I was still so surprised. That's when the combination laughter and tears started. I cried and cried and cried. At the same time I was laughing like a loon. I could not stop. We stayed up all night. We just stared into each other's eyes, hugged, kissed, made love, talked. Words cannot do those moments justice. I have never been happier in my life. The sheer magnitude of the happiness and love made me dizzy. Garrett has always had this ability, but it really shone that night. Garrett can make dreams come true. Dreams I didn't even know I had.

The next day we started using words and phrases like "fiance," "you are going to be my wife," "you are going to be my husband," and of course, "Holy Shit! We're getting hitched!" It was fabulous. We signed Brenda's guest book. Garrett wrote, "She said YES!!!!" I have never been more happy from a sentence.

We decided that when we got home on Sunday we would get all of our friends together, where we had our first 'official' date, and share the news. Words cannot express how fun that was. We laughed, drank and couldn't keep our hands off one another. Angela, the most amazing photographer in the world, captured the moment in photos.





Garrett makes the toast. He says, "This weekend I asked the most amazing woman in the world to marry me. And she said YES!!!" I, of course, start crying.

Thanks to our friends and our family for making that a weekend that I will never forget. But most, thanks to Garrett, who has made me the luckiest grrrrl in the whole world. I wake up a bit happier, a bit more excited and a bit more in love every day.

-- Beck