Happily, this will be my final entry. Today is our rehearsal day, and after I have gotten myself ready, I will not be home long enough to write a new blog.
For at least the past week or so, everyone has been asking me if I'm ready, getting excited, or getting nervous. For the past week or so, my answer has usually been to smile and say, "I'm very excited." What I noticed, however, is a look of disappointment on their faces because my answer was a lot more low-key than perhaps they had expected from me. I wasn't jumping off the walls and being hyperactive with my excitement. It's a different kind of excitement. It's more of a feeling of, "Finally, everyone will get to hear what Robert and I have always been saying to each other privately." I am overwhelmed with happiness and calmness.
Robert and I are amazed at how unreal all of this feels. It's not even surreal...just simply unreal. I mentioned it to him the other day, and he seemed relieved that I, too, haven't quite grasped the reality of what's happening tomorrow. This morning, however, I awoke to the following text message:
"I figured out why none of this feels real yet: I already knew that I will spend the rest of my life with you. I can't imagine it any other way. This weekend--while awesome--is kinda a formality, you know? I pledged myself to you a long time ago...we have always been partners. I love you sweetheart. I'll see you later this afternoon."
And he's right. :)
Robert and I have been making vows and holding ourselves to them for almost an entire two years. I'll admit that the beginning of our relationship was focused a great deal on having fun and enjoying ourselves. But as we fell in love and were able to identify it, we started making these little pledges along the way. We've said for a while that we feel as though in our hearts we are already married. Tomorrow, we make it public and legal. Unfortunately a clandestine marriage just simply isn't how our society (not to mention the Catholic Church) acknowledges the validity of most people's unions. So, we are happy to comply with the norms and expectations of our society and my religion.
Tomorrow we'll stand in front of everyone we love and who love us and say to each other everything we've been saying all along. We'll make our private promises public, and that's what counts most. Now we invite our friends and families to hold us accountable to our promises, which adds a great deal more weight and significance to the vows.
I couldn't be any happier than I am in this moment right now, on the cusp of marrying the love of my life and my very best friend.
I love you, Robert! :)
And for my readers, just a friendly reminder, this is the final entry for Bride-in-Training. Come back after June 4th for the unveiling of my new blog: "A. Hab: A blog in the pursuit of happiness, personal growth, and love": http://a-hab-09.blogspot.com/.
Thanks for reading this blog and following me in my training. :) It's now time for my real world to begin!
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Probably shouldn't be a bitch to a bride a week before her wedding...
General customer treatment 101: You probably shouldn't be a bitch to a bride a week before her wedding.
Last week, Robert and I dropped off our wedding bands to a local jeweler (family owned and operated for several decades) to be engraved. The man told us that the rings would probably be ready on Monday or Tuesday of this week. It's Thursday, but that's not such a big deal because the wedding isn't for nine more days. We just needed to have them in hand by next Friday. Robert received a phone call yesterday that the rings were ready, but we couldn't both make it over there until this morning. I got there a little later than we were originally hoping, and Robert had to dash because he had to get back to the duplex to let the carpet people in. So, while he was waiting for me to arrive, he went ahead and picked up my wedding band. He had some issues with one of the women in the store because, apparently, our rings were filed incorrectly. I think what had happened was that the rings were placed in the wrong bags. The woman kept telling Robert that she couldn't find his order, but when she finally did find it she acted as though it weren't a big deal. Wise up, lady: it's kind of the biggest deal. These are wedding bands. Not some company fountain pen.
When I arrived, Robert had to leave, so I went to the jeweler by myself, but I figured it'd be okay considering he had just been in there five seconds ago. I walk in, tell them the name on the order, and sure enough: they can't find it.
Let's pause.
My wedding band is a five-diamond band. It can be replaced because we have insurance on it.
Robert's wedding band is a family heirloom. It was first worn by his great-grandfather (Don) and then passed on to his grandfather (the first Robert in the family--my fiance is the third). His great-grandfather's initials were engraved on the ring, but his grandfather's (whose initials Robert shares) weren't. So, we decided to add his grandfather's initials as well as Robert's, just adding a III after the second set of initials. This is an important, invaluable, irreplaceable ring.
So the girl can't find my order. Immediately, I start to shake. She seems unapologetic and unconcerned...as though she doesn't believe me that I've even placed an order here at all. I told her it could be under Robert's name. She still can't find it. I told her that he was just in here--maybe his ring is somewhere on the counter. She ignores me and goes to consult the woman who does the engraving. At this point Robert calls me, and I can't stop shaking. That woman comes out, but she's no help because all she does is stare at the screen that apparently shows that I have no order in the system. Finally, some manager comes over, picks up a bag off the counter, and says, "Is this it?" Yup. And it was in the wrong bag--filed under Robert's name, apparently.
Even after it was all sorted out and I had Robert's ring in hand, the woman who had originally started working with me did not apologize for her error. Instead, she started to blame me because I had written his name on the card. But I had also written my name on the card. I wasn't listening to her because I was still on the phone with Robert--rude? Maybe. I didn't care. She was being a bitch. She practically threw the bag at me, gave me a tight (bitchy) smile, and said, "Well, you have a wonderful afternoon." I glared at her and said, "Oh yeah, you too."
The second I got out of that store, I started ranting into Robert's ear. I was still shaking from all the anxiety at the prospect of having lost his great-grandfather's wedding ring. We have both decided that the work this company does is not worth all of the bitchiness they continually treat us with--the first bad experience we had was when they kept Robert's grandfather's watch for over a year (they were trying to repair an antique watch but didn't have the parts).
It's a shame because this particular store is personal to my family in a way. When my dad was a young college guy, he spoke to the owner of the store who taught him about diamonds. My dad bought my mom's engagement ring from this store, as well as her wedding band (and probably his--I think they're a set). He's bought her several other pieces of jewelry from this place. But, unfortunately, in the last few years the family portion of the store's ownership has shifted so that the new owner (still a family member with the same last name) has a very different attitude toward customers and apparently educates her employees in this manner.
Excuse me, but if I'm a bride and I'm giving you business a week before my wedding, don't you think you would treat me like a bride who's giving you business a week before her wedding?
I mean, hell, I'm about to be surrounded by 153 of my closest friends and family--half of whom live here. Maybe I'll just spread this little story around.
Last week, Robert and I dropped off our wedding bands to a local jeweler (family owned and operated for several decades) to be engraved. The man told us that the rings would probably be ready on Monday or Tuesday of this week. It's Thursday, but that's not such a big deal because the wedding isn't for nine more days. We just needed to have them in hand by next Friday. Robert received a phone call yesterday that the rings were ready, but we couldn't both make it over there until this morning. I got there a little later than we were originally hoping, and Robert had to dash because he had to get back to the duplex to let the carpet people in. So, while he was waiting for me to arrive, he went ahead and picked up my wedding band. He had some issues with one of the women in the store because, apparently, our rings were filed incorrectly. I think what had happened was that the rings were placed in the wrong bags. The woman kept telling Robert that she couldn't find his order, but when she finally did find it she acted as though it weren't a big deal. Wise up, lady: it's kind of the biggest deal. These are wedding bands. Not some company fountain pen.
When I arrived, Robert had to leave, so I went to the jeweler by myself, but I figured it'd be okay considering he had just been in there five seconds ago. I walk in, tell them the name on the order, and sure enough: they can't find it.
Let's pause.
My wedding band is a five-diamond band. It can be replaced because we have insurance on it.
Robert's wedding band is a family heirloom. It was first worn by his great-grandfather (Don) and then passed on to his grandfather (the first Robert in the family--my fiance is the third). His great-grandfather's initials were engraved on the ring, but his grandfather's (whose initials Robert shares) weren't. So, we decided to add his grandfather's initials as well as Robert's, just adding a III after the second set of initials. This is an important, invaluable, irreplaceable ring.
So the girl can't find my order. Immediately, I start to shake. She seems unapologetic and unconcerned...as though she doesn't believe me that I've even placed an order here at all. I told her it could be under Robert's name. She still can't find it. I told her that he was just in here--maybe his ring is somewhere on the counter. She ignores me and goes to consult the woman who does the engraving. At this point Robert calls me, and I can't stop shaking. That woman comes out, but she's no help because all she does is stare at the screen that apparently shows that I have no order in the system. Finally, some manager comes over, picks up a bag off the counter, and says, "Is this it?" Yup. And it was in the wrong bag--filed under Robert's name, apparently.
Even after it was all sorted out and I had Robert's ring in hand, the woman who had originally started working with me did not apologize for her error. Instead, she started to blame me because I had written his name on the card. But I had also written my name on the card. I wasn't listening to her because I was still on the phone with Robert--rude? Maybe. I didn't care. She was being a bitch. She practically threw the bag at me, gave me a tight (bitchy) smile, and said, "Well, you have a wonderful afternoon." I glared at her and said, "Oh yeah, you too."
The second I got out of that store, I started ranting into Robert's ear. I was still shaking from all the anxiety at the prospect of having lost his great-grandfather's wedding ring. We have both decided that the work this company does is not worth all of the bitchiness they continually treat us with--the first bad experience we had was when they kept Robert's grandfather's watch for over a year (they were trying to repair an antique watch but didn't have the parts).
It's a shame because this particular store is personal to my family in a way. When my dad was a young college guy, he spoke to the owner of the store who taught him about diamonds. My dad bought my mom's engagement ring from this store, as well as her wedding band (and probably his--I think they're a set). He's bought her several other pieces of jewelry from this place. But, unfortunately, in the last few years the family portion of the store's ownership has shifted so that the new owner (still a family member with the same last name) has a very different attitude toward customers and apparently educates her employees in this manner.
Excuse me, but if I'm a bride and I'm giving you business a week before my wedding, don't you think you would treat me like a bride who's giving you business a week before her wedding?
I mean, hell, I'm about to be surrounded by 153 of my closest friends and family--half of whom live here. Maybe I'll just spread this little story around.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Announcing the new blog!
Coming soon, folks: the launch of this bride-in-training's new blog on married life! Bookmark the link below!
A.Hab: A Blog in Pursuit of Happiness, Personal Growth, and Love
The new blog launches on June 4, 2009, after we return from our honeymoon. On that date, I will officially no longer update Bride-in-Training. :)
A.Hab: A Blog in Pursuit of Happiness, Personal Growth, and Love
The new blog launches on June 4, 2009, after we return from our honeymoon. On that date, I will officially no longer update Bride-in-Training. :)
Monday, May 11, 2009
12 days to go and waiting with bated breath
In twelve days, I marry the man I love.
In twelve days, I learn what my mom kept promising I'd learn.
In twelve days, I drop a last name to gain another.
In twelve days, I knit my soul to Robert's to be witnessed by my friends and family.
In twelve days, my real life begins.
In twelve days, I wear that gorgeous dress for its intended purpose.
In twelve days, I celebrate a family doubled.
In twelve days, I shed the skin of the unconfident woman I once was.
In twelve days, I enter into a blessed, deeply resonating bond.
In twelve days, my best friend vows to cherish me until death. And I him.
In twelve days, fantasies I never knew I desired will see reality.
In twelve days, I'll know what it means to love and be loved for eternity.
In thirteen days, I go to London with my husband, who promised to take me there the first time we spoke outside of class.
This weekend, Robert and I went up to my parents' home for a few reasons. The first, of course, is that it was Mother's Day weekend and I wanted to be able to see my mom. The second is that I had my final dress fitting on Saturday morning. The third was that there were still many things left to be done for the wedding.
Friday:
Robert and I managed to get to my parents' without a great deal of difficulty--the construction that stretches for 29 miles on the southside of our trip has started to open up (just a little), which relieves the bottlenecking that used to plague that area. We had dinner with my parents (Friday nights are pizza nights), and then we ran a couple of errands before returning home. My mom and I finished a couple of little projects here and there (mostly boxing up ceremony and reception necessities), and my sister and her fiance made it home. When I had thought about going to bed, I went upstairs to find my mom and sister sitting in my bedroom. (My mom had moved her computer into my old room, so my room quickly became what is fondly called "Wedding Land.") I felt like I was bottoming out and only wanted to go to sleep. Unfortunately, this was not in the cards for the next few hours. We stared at the computer for quite a long time, finishing table arrangements and meal selections. We finally went to bed around 2 a.m.
Saturday:
I was awoken by an unhappy father (who forgot I was sleeping in my bedroom and wanted to use the computer) at 7 a.m. I could barely understand an angry word he was saying to me, which was only making him angrier. I finally told him that I needed to get up and take my shower (even though it was an hour earlier than I anticipated) so that I could get myself ready and out the door for my final dress fitting. After a brief but explosive argument with him, I was able to get showered and dressed, and I went to the bridal store with my mom and sister. I am unbelievably in love with my dress. A phenomenon happens, though, when a bride tries on her dress so many times--she sometimes has amnesia about how much she loves her dress. Sure, she'll probably remember some of the more intricate details, but she'll forget just exactly how beautiful she looks when she's in it until she's in it again.
I have tried on my gown three times. And all three times, I am astonished to see that I look the way I do and that I feel the way I do. I can't wait for Robert to see me in it because I want to know how I look in his eyes. I can't wait to see the look he has on his face because I know I will feel even more beautiful when he looks at me.
After we left the bridal store, we met my grandparents, dad, and Robert at Mimi's Cafe for some New Orleans style breakfast. The breakfast was amazing, of course, because it's Mimi's. We went to the mall as a family and did some Mother's Day shopping. Unbelievably fun--but we always have a great deal of fun together when we go shopping. Mom also bought me five new dresses--one for the rehearsal, one for the getaway dress, and all five for the honeymoon. That evening, we went to see "Star Trek" and were completely blown away. I'm ready for the sequel.
That night, Robert ventured into Wedding Land to answer a few of my mom's questions and was sucked in until 12:30 when he simply couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. I joined at some point as well, and helped Mom fight with PowerPoint to force it to do what we wanted it to do. We celebrated our 1:30 bedtime a little prematurely--we still had more work to do without realizing it. Before we said goodnight, Mom looked at me and said, "We have to do the place cards for the rest of our guests." So, we stayed up for another half hour or so finishing those. She went to bed at 2; I went to bed at 2:15--I sent Robert several text messages to outline for him the plan for the day, including my hope that he would drive us home (I had driven up) because the severe lack of sleep for the past eight days was starting to mess with me.
Sunday:
I tried to sleep in late but could only make it to just after 8. We had a leisurely breakfast, waiting for the stores to open at noon, so that Mom, Lauren, and I could finish our necessary shopping (some in preparation for the wedding, other in preparation for the honeymoon). Unfortunately, the store had very little selection (turns out everyone in my size has been buying out all of the capris), so we ended up ultimately going back home to finish doing the shopping online. We did go to DSW to buy a pair of shoes for my adorable getaway dress...and then we ended up hanging out there for over an hour trying on all the new cute sandals. I told Mom that I should probably avoid going to London in flip flops (even though I do think they're adorable) because they would not do well for walking long distances and would easily point me out as an American tourist. We found a few pairs of sandals each, and mine are extremely comfortable. lightweight, and adorable! I can't wait to wear them. We didn't make it home until around 5, though, and I was dead on my feet by then.
After packing everything up (Robert helped load up my car with everything for the reception with my mom, which made everything unbelievably easier), Robert and I hit the road. I passed out for a short portion on the road, and we made amazing time back home. I've been feeling a little under the weather, and the sleep deprivation hasn't helped--I felt horrible because when we made it back into town, I couldn't spend any time with Robert's mom on Mother's Day. But I could hardly keep my eyes open. I think she understands and isn't hurt by it--next year will be better. I've promised both moms (who received nothing this year from Robert and me) that we're going to do something a great deal better. I'm planning on doing something at the duplex for them.
Monday:
Lauren and I delivered all of the boxes to our reception site, so now they're safely tucked away for the wedding. I cannot wait! :) I feel so much better knowing everything is taken care of. We ran some more errands as well, in order to prepare for the next twelve days. And, finally, Robert and I are going to the phone place in the next couple of days (I hope tomorrow, hehehe) to get me a new phone and phone plan. My current plan expires at midnight on Friday. Plus, if any of my readers have spent any time at all around me in the past twelve months, they would know how desperately I hate my current phone (the Samsung Glyde). It is actually considered a blight on touch screen phones. It malfunctions after only a couple of months' use. I've had to stick with this crappy phone for far too long. Imagine my excitement at the potential of getting a new phone. I'm hoping for a Blackberry Curve. :)
That's actually pretty much everything.
Oh yeah, and after we return from the honeymoon, I'm going to be relocating to a new blog...since I won't be a bride-in-training any longer and all. :)
In twelve days, I learn what my mom kept promising I'd learn.
In twelve days, I drop a last name to gain another.
In twelve days, I knit my soul to Robert's to be witnessed by my friends and family.
In twelve days, my real life begins.
In twelve days, I wear that gorgeous dress for its intended purpose.
In twelve days, I celebrate a family doubled.
In twelve days, I shed the skin of the unconfident woman I once was.
In twelve days, I enter into a blessed, deeply resonating bond.
In twelve days, my best friend vows to cherish me until death. And I him.
In twelve days, fantasies I never knew I desired will see reality.
In twelve days, I'll know what it means to love and be loved for eternity.
In thirteen days, I go to London with my husband, who promised to take me there the first time we spoke outside of class.
This weekend, Robert and I went up to my parents' home for a few reasons. The first, of course, is that it was Mother's Day weekend and I wanted to be able to see my mom. The second is that I had my final dress fitting on Saturday morning. The third was that there were still many things left to be done for the wedding.
Friday:
Robert and I managed to get to my parents' without a great deal of difficulty--the construction that stretches for 29 miles on the southside of our trip has started to open up (just a little), which relieves the bottlenecking that used to plague that area. We had dinner with my parents (Friday nights are pizza nights), and then we ran a couple of errands before returning home. My mom and I finished a couple of little projects here and there (mostly boxing up ceremony and reception necessities), and my sister and her fiance made it home. When I had thought about going to bed, I went upstairs to find my mom and sister sitting in my bedroom. (My mom had moved her computer into my old room, so my room quickly became what is fondly called "Wedding Land.") I felt like I was bottoming out and only wanted to go to sleep. Unfortunately, this was not in the cards for the next few hours. We stared at the computer for quite a long time, finishing table arrangements and meal selections. We finally went to bed around 2 a.m.
Saturday:
I was awoken by an unhappy father (who forgot I was sleeping in my bedroom and wanted to use the computer) at 7 a.m. I could barely understand an angry word he was saying to me, which was only making him angrier. I finally told him that I needed to get up and take my shower (even though it was an hour earlier than I anticipated) so that I could get myself ready and out the door for my final dress fitting. After a brief but explosive argument with him, I was able to get showered and dressed, and I went to the bridal store with my mom and sister. I am unbelievably in love with my dress. A phenomenon happens, though, when a bride tries on her dress so many times--she sometimes has amnesia about how much she loves her dress. Sure, she'll probably remember some of the more intricate details, but she'll forget just exactly how beautiful she looks when she's in it until she's in it again.
I have tried on my gown three times. And all three times, I am astonished to see that I look the way I do and that I feel the way I do. I can't wait for Robert to see me in it because I want to know how I look in his eyes. I can't wait to see the look he has on his face because I know I will feel even more beautiful when he looks at me.
After we left the bridal store, we met my grandparents, dad, and Robert at Mimi's Cafe for some New Orleans style breakfast. The breakfast was amazing, of course, because it's Mimi's. We went to the mall as a family and did some Mother's Day shopping. Unbelievably fun--but we always have a great deal of fun together when we go shopping. Mom also bought me five new dresses--one for the rehearsal, one for the getaway dress, and all five for the honeymoon. That evening, we went to see "Star Trek" and were completely blown away. I'm ready for the sequel.
That night, Robert ventured into Wedding Land to answer a few of my mom's questions and was sucked in until 12:30 when he simply couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. I joined at some point as well, and helped Mom fight with PowerPoint to force it to do what we wanted it to do. We celebrated our 1:30 bedtime a little prematurely--we still had more work to do without realizing it. Before we said goodnight, Mom looked at me and said, "We have to do the place cards for the rest of our guests." So, we stayed up for another half hour or so finishing those. She went to bed at 2; I went to bed at 2:15--I sent Robert several text messages to outline for him the plan for the day, including my hope that he would drive us home (I had driven up) because the severe lack of sleep for the past eight days was starting to mess with me.
Sunday:
I tried to sleep in late but could only make it to just after 8. We had a leisurely breakfast, waiting for the stores to open at noon, so that Mom, Lauren, and I could finish our necessary shopping (some in preparation for the wedding, other in preparation for the honeymoon). Unfortunately, the store had very little selection (turns out everyone in my size has been buying out all of the capris), so we ended up ultimately going back home to finish doing the shopping online. We did go to DSW to buy a pair of shoes for my adorable getaway dress...and then we ended up hanging out there for over an hour trying on all the new cute sandals. I told Mom that I should probably avoid going to London in flip flops (even though I do think they're adorable) because they would not do well for walking long distances and would easily point me out as an American tourist. We found a few pairs of sandals each, and mine are extremely comfortable. lightweight, and adorable! I can't wait to wear them. We didn't make it home until around 5, though, and I was dead on my feet by then.
After packing everything up (Robert helped load up my car with everything for the reception with my mom, which made everything unbelievably easier), Robert and I hit the road. I passed out for a short portion on the road, and we made amazing time back home. I've been feeling a little under the weather, and the sleep deprivation hasn't helped--I felt horrible because when we made it back into town, I couldn't spend any time with Robert's mom on Mother's Day. But I could hardly keep my eyes open. I think she understands and isn't hurt by it--next year will be better. I've promised both moms (who received nothing this year from Robert and me) that we're going to do something a great deal better. I'm planning on doing something at the duplex for them.
Monday:
Lauren and I delivered all of the boxes to our reception site, so now they're safely tucked away for the wedding. I cannot wait! :) I feel so much better knowing everything is taken care of. We ran some more errands as well, in order to prepare for the next twelve days. And, finally, Robert and I are going to the phone place in the next couple of days (I hope tomorrow, hehehe) to get me a new phone and phone plan. My current plan expires at midnight on Friday. Plus, if any of my readers have spent any time at all around me in the past twelve months, they would know how desperately I hate my current phone (the Samsung Glyde). It is actually considered a blight on touch screen phones. It malfunctions after only a couple of months' use. I've had to stick with this crappy phone for far too long. Imagine my excitement at the potential of getting a new phone. I'm hoping for a Blackberry Curve. :)
That's actually pretty much everything.
Oh yeah, and after we return from the honeymoon, I'm going to be relocating to a new blog...since I won't be a bride-in-training any longer and all. :)
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
A way to feel small and insignificant:
In the middle of the night, take a giant blanket, one that will at least resist the nighttime dew from grasses, find a large field (preferably NGCSU's Drill Field--it's the very best for this task), lay down, and watch tomorrow's storm roll in.
Repeat at least four days a week for ego-checking.
Repeat at least four days a week for ego-checking.
17 days away and just holding on for dear life
I haven't updated in a while, mostly because the rest of the semester since achieving ABD spiraled largely out of control. Without recapping everything, I'll just focus on where we stand 17 days before the wedding.
Robert and I are going to get married, even if we have to take people down in the process. Not a fun attitude to have for the happiest experience of one's life, but this seems to be the position we've been unwittingly slammed into.
We are currently dealing with a number of cousins coming up out of the woodwork all of a sudden who have dates they want to invite. Funny thing, to me, is that the invitations were out in February. We gave them an rsvp deadline of April 18th. Rather than even receive one of these cousins' rsvp at all (because apparently her mother failed to hand the invitation to her when it arrived), we have had to make phone calls tracking people down. And now they want to add guests. At the eleventh hour.
The seating chart has been finalized. The numbers have been finalized and reported to our vendors. The contracts have been signed and faxed. Payment is due in a few days. We're done. We're not adding people any more.
Where Robert and I are finding ourselves, unfortunately, is in the position of sounding like complete pompous assholes who simply refuse to budge even an inch, refuse to give in for a special relative's special circumstance (one date seems to be "the one"...yet I only found out about her existence last night). The reality is that we would love to invite everyone on the planet to our wedding, but we simply cannot. We don't have the funds or space. And now, to give people a ridiculously long rsvp deadline (my mom and I have agreed that for my sister's wedding, we're bumping the deadline way up--our deadline should have been April 1), and then to find out two and a half weeks before the wedding that they want to add another person...it's just rude and disrespectful and completely disregards any labor involved in adding just one more person. (Because you know that one person becomes one more person becomes one more person, ad infinitum. You can't do for one cousin what you refuse to do for another one or else you'll hear about it from all the rest of the family.)
There are consequences to every action, as well as to every inaction. When someone asks you to do something by a particular date, and you refuse to do it by that date, there are consequences. Maybe you don't get the meal you wanted. Or maybe you don't get to bring your date you kept meaning to ask about (whose name wasn't on the invitation).
It seems to me that there is a complete disconnect between the reality and people's fantasies for this wedding.
The wedding is a business. It's a sacred business, sure, but it's a business nonetheless. We're signing contracts, wheeling and dealing, paying nonrefundable deposits, and setting limits and deadlines. Every romantically nuanced element of this wedding was a business deal. There were verbal proposals, disagreements, even fights over every single decision. We had to pitch every single decision, persuade someone for every single decision, and work ourselves silly over the minutest detail for every single decision. Those who are unaware of the work and time and hurt feelings and healed feelings and tears and Kleenexes used...they will walk into the ceremony and reception sites and be awed at how everything "fell into place." Nothing "fell into place." Everything was put there on purpose and with considerable deliberation. Every tiny aspect, down to whether or not the bridesmaids had open-toed shoes and how shiny the sheen on the groomsmen's tuxedos should be, was a deliberate movement. Everything was a conversation.
Frankly, I'm the one who should be most offended by the presupposition of some of our guests (or perhaps their desired guests). We are not mind readers. If the rough list, when compiled on the rough master list (with a request in red to please read through it carefully and find errors, omissions, or additions...by a certain deadline), did not have the words "+ guest" for an individual, how are we to know that that person might be possibly dating "the one"?
It's insulting to me to watch my mom work herself nearly to illness, scrutinizing every decision (and not arbitrarily but because they are contractual and require this much scrutiny), to then turn around and see someone ignore her efforts and hard work, or to believe that they deserve special treatment more than any other individual in either family. On behalf of my mom, I am offended. I feel slighted. I feel as though Robert and I will be punished by these family members to whom we had to refuse dates we never knew existed.
My mom taught me a new mantra last night, during our seventh and final phone conversation (this one at 1 a. edt/midnight cdt). The mantra is:
An error on your part does not equal an emergency on my part.
Meaning: just because you made a mistake, it does not mean I should get my knickers in a wad and enter into emergency mode and throw my agenda off course.
Callous? Maybe. But sometimes we have to be a little more callous than the world wants because otherwise we open ourselves to doormat status. The mantra does not mean that I will not work with you to try to help you resolve your mistake. But it means I will not drop everything I'm doing to correct it. Your mistake is yours to fix. I'll do what I can and only that. And I expect the same treatment when I make a mistake because this is the reciprocity of responsibility. I will ask you to take responsibility for your actions and their consequences (holding you accountable), and I expect you to do the same for me. Once that is achieved, we will find mutual respect and willingness to assist when necessary.
I'm not sure how this post is going to be received by my general readership. I am already so very wound-up by what's happening in my family and my future family-in-law that I'm not interested in sparking any debates. If you feel it necessary to spark a debate, please refrain from doing so on my blog. I'm afraid that with the little sleep I've been getting over these past several nights and the amount of stress I'm feeling 17 days before the wedding that I could unwillingly lash out at someone who does not deserve it. Thanks for your understanding.
Robert and I are going to get married, even if we have to take people down in the process. Not a fun attitude to have for the happiest experience of one's life, but this seems to be the position we've been unwittingly slammed into.
We are currently dealing with a number of cousins coming up out of the woodwork all of a sudden who have dates they want to invite. Funny thing, to me, is that the invitations were out in February. We gave them an rsvp deadline of April 18th. Rather than even receive one of these cousins' rsvp at all (because apparently her mother failed to hand the invitation to her when it arrived), we have had to make phone calls tracking people down. And now they want to add guests. At the eleventh hour.
The seating chart has been finalized. The numbers have been finalized and reported to our vendors. The contracts have been signed and faxed. Payment is due in a few days. We're done. We're not adding people any more.
Where Robert and I are finding ourselves, unfortunately, is in the position of sounding like complete pompous assholes who simply refuse to budge even an inch, refuse to give in for a special relative's special circumstance (one date seems to be "the one"...yet I only found out about her existence last night). The reality is that we would love to invite everyone on the planet to our wedding, but we simply cannot. We don't have the funds or space. And now, to give people a ridiculously long rsvp deadline (my mom and I have agreed that for my sister's wedding, we're bumping the deadline way up--our deadline should have been April 1), and then to find out two and a half weeks before the wedding that they want to add another person...it's just rude and disrespectful and completely disregards any labor involved in adding just one more person. (Because you know that one person becomes one more person becomes one more person, ad infinitum. You can't do for one cousin what you refuse to do for another one or else you'll hear about it from all the rest of the family.)
There are consequences to every action, as well as to every inaction. When someone asks you to do something by a particular date, and you refuse to do it by that date, there are consequences. Maybe you don't get the meal you wanted. Or maybe you don't get to bring your date you kept meaning to ask about (whose name wasn't on the invitation).
It seems to me that there is a complete disconnect between the reality and people's fantasies for this wedding.
The wedding is a business. It's a sacred business, sure, but it's a business nonetheless. We're signing contracts, wheeling and dealing, paying nonrefundable deposits, and setting limits and deadlines. Every romantically nuanced element of this wedding was a business deal. There were verbal proposals, disagreements, even fights over every single decision. We had to pitch every single decision, persuade someone for every single decision, and work ourselves silly over the minutest detail for every single decision. Those who are unaware of the work and time and hurt feelings and healed feelings and tears and Kleenexes used...they will walk into the ceremony and reception sites and be awed at how everything "fell into place." Nothing "fell into place." Everything was put there on purpose and with considerable deliberation. Every tiny aspect, down to whether or not the bridesmaids had open-toed shoes and how shiny the sheen on the groomsmen's tuxedos should be, was a deliberate movement. Everything was a conversation.
Frankly, I'm the one who should be most offended by the presupposition of some of our guests (or perhaps their desired guests). We are not mind readers. If the rough list, when compiled on the rough master list (with a request in red to please read through it carefully and find errors, omissions, or additions...by a certain deadline), did not have the words "+ guest" for an individual, how are we to know that that person might be possibly dating "the one"?
It's insulting to me to watch my mom work herself nearly to illness, scrutinizing every decision (and not arbitrarily but because they are contractual and require this much scrutiny), to then turn around and see someone ignore her efforts and hard work, or to believe that they deserve special treatment more than any other individual in either family. On behalf of my mom, I am offended. I feel slighted. I feel as though Robert and I will be punished by these family members to whom we had to refuse dates we never knew existed.
My mom taught me a new mantra last night, during our seventh and final phone conversation (this one at 1 a. edt/midnight cdt). The mantra is:
An error on your part does not equal an emergency on my part.
Meaning: just because you made a mistake, it does not mean I should get my knickers in a wad and enter into emergency mode and throw my agenda off course.
Callous? Maybe. But sometimes we have to be a little more callous than the world wants because otherwise we open ourselves to doormat status. The mantra does not mean that I will not work with you to try to help you resolve your mistake. But it means I will not drop everything I'm doing to correct it. Your mistake is yours to fix. I'll do what I can and only that. And I expect the same treatment when I make a mistake because this is the reciprocity of responsibility. I will ask you to take responsibility for your actions and their consequences (holding you accountable), and I expect you to do the same for me. Once that is achieved, we will find mutual respect and willingness to assist when necessary.
I'm not sure how this post is going to be received by my general readership. I am already so very wound-up by what's happening in my family and my future family-in-law that I'm not interested in sparking any debates. If you feel it necessary to spark a debate, please refrain from doing so on my blog. I'm afraid that with the little sleep I've been getting over these past several nights and the amount of stress I'm feeling 17 days before the wedding that I could unwillingly lash out at someone who does not deserve it. Thanks for your understanding.
Monday, March 9, 2009
I am Sir Gawain!
I defeated my Green Knight on Thursday, and I am now ABD! :D
Why the metaphor? Two reasons: 1. I'm teaching SGGK right now, and 2. because it fits for the nature of the exams. Although scary and imposing like a giant green knight would be, the process of taking exams also taught me several life lessons. I don't know if I endangered myself by entering the fray with a protective green sash, but I did slice off the Green Knight's head and received my own, less fatal, blow.
The less fatal blow I'm referring to is my low pass on one of my writtens. But even that's melted away as a distant memory.
My oral exam was scary at first, but I eventually eased my way into it and was able to find my footing. I got no sleep the night before (but who does?)--I woke up every hour on the hour to the same nightmare: being in the oral exam and failing in a myriad of ways. Never satisfied with the end, I'd roll over and go back to sleep, only to wake up again by the same nightmare (but with a more disastrous end than the previous one). This happened every hour from 1-5, until I finally threw off the covers at 5 a.m. and said, "Fuck this," took my shower, made and ate breakfast, and went to school early. My exam wasn't until 1 p.m., but I was on campus by 8 a.m.
I won't go into the nitty gritty details here, because I'm not entirely sure my readership is interested. What generally occurred was:
1. Dr. S asked his questions first. At first I wasn't giving him the answers he wanted, but I must have eventually started to please him. His portion lasted for 40 minutes--it was his written exam I low passed. He never even mentioned my score.
2. Dr. Ri asked her questions next. She really just wanted to talk about my dissertation topic, which I'm more than happy to do at any given moment. Her portion lasted for 30 minutes. I high passed her written exam.
3. Dr. Re asked her questions last. She's my dissertation director, and I was most nervous about her questions. She and I have a special relationship--she was the professor who really took me under her wing when I was a new little Master's student, nearly 5 years ago. She directed a great deal of my Master's research (I was her graduate research assistant), and she directed my Master's thesis. Her questions were challenging but fair. Her portion lasted for 30 minutes.
4. After everyone asked their questions, they sent me out of the room, twenty minutes ahead of schedule, which was good. A couple of my friends happened to be walking around the halls at that moment, so they gave me some words of encouragement while my committee discussed their decision (to pass or fail me). Faster than I expected, the door opened and Dr. Re gave my friends the thumbs-up. She and the rest of my committee gave me a round of applause. I could hardly breathe I was so excited.
5. After everything, Robert and Adriane met up with me. Robert really didn't have any reason to come to school that day, but he came anyway to meet me after the exam. I was thrilled beyond reason that I was able to see so many important people after the exams because they were all more than ready to celebrate with me. We went out for dinner and drinks that night. On Friday morning, I woke up more well-rested than I had been in a very long time.
I have been sleeping so well lately, which is good to know because I really didn't want to have to deal with clinical insomnia or anything of that nature.
I'm just so relieved and glad to no longer be under so much stress and to have everything finished. :)
Why the metaphor? Two reasons: 1. I'm teaching SGGK right now, and 2. because it fits for the nature of the exams. Although scary and imposing like a giant green knight would be, the process of taking exams also taught me several life lessons. I don't know if I endangered myself by entering the fray with a protective green sash, but I did slice off the Green Knight's head and received my own, less fatal, blow.
The less fatal blow I'm referring to is my low pass on one of my writtens. But even that's melted away as a distant memory.
My oral exam was scary at first, but I eventually eased my way into it and was able to find my footing. I got no sleep the night before (but who does?)--I woke up every hour on the hour to the same nightmare: being in the oral exam and failing in a myriad of ways. Never satisfied with the end, I'd roll over and go back to sleep, only to wake up again by the same nightmare (but with a more disastrous end than the previous one). This happened every hour from 1-5, until I finally threw off the covers at 5 a.m. and said, "Fuck this," took my shower, made and ate breakfast, and went to school early. My exam wasn't until 1 p.m., but I was on campus by 8 a.m.
I won't go into the nitty gritty details here, because I'm not entirely sure my readership is interested. What generally occurred was:
1. Dr. S asked his questions first. At first I wasn't giving him the answers he wanted, but I must have eventually started to please him. His portion lasted for 40 minutes--it was his written exam I low passed. He never even mentioned my score.
2. Dr. Ri asked her questions next. She really just wanted to talk about my dissertation topic, which I'm more than happy to do at any given moment. Her portion lasted for 30 minutes. I high passed her written exam.
3. Dr. Re asked her questions last. She's my dissertation director, and I was most nervous about her questions. She and I have a special relationship--she was the professor who really took me under her wing when I was a new little Master's student, nearly 5 years ago. She directed a great deal of my Master's research (I was her graduate research assistant), and she directed my Master's thesis. Her questions were challenging but fair. Her portion lasted for 30 minutes.
4. After everyone asked their questions, they sent me out of the room, twenty minutes ahead of schedule, which was good. A couple of my friends happened to be walking around the halls at that moment, so they gave me some words of encouragement while my committee discussed their decision (to pass or fail me). Faster than I expected, the door opened and Dr. Re gave my friends the thumbs-up. She and the rest of my committee gave me a round of applause. I could hardly breathe I was so excited.
5. After everything, Robert and Adriane met up with me. Robert really didn't have any reason to come to school that day, but he came anyway to meet me after the exam. I was thrilled beyond reason that I was able to see so many important people after the exams because they were all more than ready to celebrate with me. We went out for dinner and drinks that night. On Friday morning, I woke up more well-rested than I had been in a very long time.
I have been sleeping so well lately, which is good to know because I really didn't want to have to deal with clinical insomnia or anything of that nature.
I'm just so relieved and glad to no longer be under so much stress and to have everything finished. :)
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