simplify…
after a day like today?
after one meeting following another?
after making numerous decisions and clarifying others?
i guess the simplicity comes in doing a day’s worth of meetings rather than dragging it out over weeks, a day full of wedding rather than every day full of wedding.
relax. let it go. leave it up to others. take time away. simplify.
today started out with a startle. i spent the night at mom’s and was soundly sleeping (after staying up way to late) until…
the newest alarm clock guaranteed to wake the dead.
the newest alarm clock that sounds like a house alarm, looks like an ambulance with it’s flashing lights, and feels like an earthquake as it vibrates.
and i am not even kidding. problem is, i had no knowledge of this new alarm clock.
so imagine my surprise when this thing goes off at 6:15am. i could not even think about going back to sleep. i was up at 6:15am…after less than 6 hours of sleep. finally rousing from bed after 1 more alarm clock went off 3 more times. it seems i kept snoozing it instead of turning it off.
tired…looking like i got hit by a truck. a headache. feeling nauseous.
meeting numero uno: breakfast with carrie.
8:30am. panera.
catching up on life, relationships.
meeting numero dos: wedding coordinator.
11:30am. olive garden.
easy enough. over lunch. answered a few questions. asked a few of my own. done.
meeting numero tres: the venue.
2:00pm. the oaks.
met alice and susan in order to finalize venue details on the rehearsal dinner and reception. number of people. number of tables. layout. flow. done.
and a little time for some photo ops.
meeting numero quattro: the florist.
4:00pm. the shop on mitchell.
clarification. changes. discussion of the layout (and subsequent flowers). prices. done.
meeting numero cinco: the musicians.
5:30pm. the guitarist’s house.
song samples. celtic music. traditional music. a little bit of both. the playlist. reception tunes. done.
so at 6:30pm, as we were walking to the car, mom says, “where to next?” “home,” was my only response. i could not think. i could not decide. i could not make one other plan. i was DONE.
we came back to mom’s, wrapped the attendant gifts 
, put on our pjs and watched a movie.
perfect ending to a way-too-packed day.
some friends of mine, some mom friends of mine, and some of mom’s friends all got together to throw me a bridal shower yesterday afternoon. i walked in and saw people i had not seen…in years, people i haven’t kept in touch with, but people who mean so much to me. it was fun just to catch up with these ladies. and time flew by, i didn’t even realize it. i had some great helpers open gifts for me so i could just talk to the guests…and then stop by to see all the nice things people brought for us.
even though it was fun to catch up, i felt like the catch up was way too short. i didn’t have time to have any sort of in depth conversations…to get back into the lives of these women. it was encouraging…but i found myself wanting more, wanting more to connect, wanting more to get to know them again (and them to know me). i miss each of these ladies, but i am grateful for just a glimpse into their lives (and in mine) and for our time (although brief) together.
and i am, of course, grateful for the delicious cupcakes (in LA fashion) and the white chocolate covered peanuts i had been dreaming bobbie would bring.
i’m back in ‘bama. i had to come back to do a few last minute wedding preparations…liking trying on my dress that had come in while i was away living in california, check out the wedding rings that had been ordered via the phone and picked up since i have been away, meetings (with the wedding director, the florist, the musician, and some more which have escaped me at the moment), and a few showers.
i was set to arrive in montgomery from my red-eye at 8:30am. due to delays in atlanta, i, in fact, did not arrive until 10am–just 1.5 hours until my first shower. i picked up my luggage, and while waiting for mom to pick me up, i pulled a superman and made a quick costume change in the airport bathroom. since it was freezing here, i rummaged through my bag for the warmest clothes possible…not settling for the springier outfit i had chosen to wear back in a more milder, sunnier california.
mom picked me up. we skipped any sort of greeting and needless chit-chat and went straight to business. i finished wrapping the hostess gifts mom had begun to wrap (leaving them undone when i called to let her know that i had arrived–earlier than the arrival time on the website), wrote out thank you’s to the hostess, and then assembled the gifts. done…now we could relax. or could we?
we headed to dad’s to pick up anne so we could all ride together.
as we waited for a few minutes at dad’s, we discussed not knowing what to do. you see, the 3 of us are normally on the other end of these kinds of things–the giving, not the receiving. we didn’t know what time to show up, what to say, or what to do. never having been in this situation before.
the bride.
the mother of the bride.
the step-mother of the bride.
but we’re here now…
and so we made our way to the shower, which was a lot of fun. a mixture of people with whom i had spent a lot of time–now grown-up girls who were in the youth group, mom’s of girls and guys in the youth group, and moms who helped out with the youth group. it was fun to see them all…even if it had been years. it was fun to spend time around them again. it was like old times…but not. we’re older. our lives have changed. but it brought us back–back to that place, back to the relationships we shared, back to memories of great times we shared in the past.
fun times…a reunion of sorts.
and it was a different kind of shower. we made our own individual pizzas. the pre-made crusts, the toppings, the choices. each on their individual piece of parchment paper then stuck in the oven to cook. yum!!
it was time to open gifts, so i was told. not sure how to begin this, or if i should be the one, i went to the appointed chair, along with my compadres taylor (who was collecting the wrapping paper) and hayden (who was recording all the gifts+givers). i sat there. one lady asked me about faisal, another wanted to know the story. i figured maybe story time was in order. so i began my program.
it felt like old times. spontaneously coming up with a plan. calling the ladies to order. demanding their attention. beginning my program. but this time it was personal. what to say, how much to say, what details to include. so i began to tell the story, our story…and invited the ladies who were already there into our story.
it was good for me to recall. it was good for me to recall around these ladies who had already been on my journey. my journey of dating a previous guy. my journey of being single. my journey of waiting. and now, my journey of beginnings. my journey of engagement. my journey of planning. my soon-to-be journey of marriage.
and yesterday, each lady imparted something to both faisal and i to begin our journey. gifts. and more importantly, blessings. blessings recorded in print for us to read. i am eager to read them all, but want to share these for the first time with faisal. these ladies. their gifts. their blessings. their prayers.
overwhelming…
then, the goodbyes…the last minute photo ops and the party favors (uh, yes for all you non-southerners…monogrammed cookies).
tom hansen…grew up believing he would never be truly happy until he found the one.
the one.
and the alleged happiness that this supposed one can bring.
days and days pining after what he wanted, what he didn’t have.
days and days of thinking he knew what he wanted.
days and days of trying to make it happen, to make it work.
days and days spent running after that which didn’t want to be caught.
500 days, in fact.
500 days until he actually found one.
one he was willing to take a chance on.
one he was willing to let into his life.
one he was willing to let see who he was.
one.
the unknown. the known.
the security, the insecurity.
the risk. the risk worth taking.
and with it, a new season.
and the possibility of new beginnings.
he believed this time his expectations would align with reality.
he believed, but for naught.
his expectations couldn’t be further from reality.
the reality came crashing down on his expectations.
we’ve all been there.
something we thought was certain, which wasn’t.
something we wanted so bad, but didn’t get.
something we thought we wanted, but glad we didn’t get…eventually.
in time, we’re glad because our expectations didn’t match our reality. we’re glad because, somehow, our reality turned out better than we could have ever expected.
reality finds one…when we least expect it, when we weren’t even looking.
one that comes along that you just can’t pass by,
one that strikes you different,
one that is worth the risk,
one that you just can’t shake,
one that is probably unlike the one you’ve always expected,
one that is, in so many ways, just what you need,
one that you woke up one day and just knew…what you never were sure of before.
i am headed home in a little over 24 hours. a red-eye…so i will be nice and refreshed when i arrive early saturday morning. refreshed…very.
it’s a trip to do some last minute wedding preparations.
trying on the dress.
meeting with the wedding director.
meeting with the florist.
listening to music from the hired strings.
looking for the shoes.
checking out the rings.
and going to 2 showers…in which I am the honoree.
surreal.
and i’m not sure what i think or how i feel about it all.
the honoree.
am i supposed to act a certain way?
am i supposed to say certain things?
am i supposed to follow some sort of script?
i don’t guess so…nor do i really feel that is me.
but i am certain i am supposed to have fun.
so fun i will have.
done.
the people. the conversations.
people i haven’t seen in years–some in well over 4.
people who are important to me. people who have been important to me in the past. people who want to see me. people who want to know…to know the story, to know the man, to know the wedding. and i guess to know me.
and i say this because it has been years.
things have changed.
i have changed.
they have changed, i am sure.
and things are different now. people are different now. and conversations will be different since the last time we have spoken.
it will be ok. we’ll find our common ground. we’ll catch up. we’ll tell stories. we’ll just be normal. we’ll just be who we are. we’ll just accept things as they are, and as we are.
it’s life. it’s what’s we do.
i hope it’s what we do.
it’s going home.
it’s a place of comfort.
it’s a place of security.
it’s a place where you can be who you are.
it’s a place of love.
it’s a place of support.
it’s a place where people know you.
it’s a place of acceptance.
it’s a place of familiarity.
it’s a place where the past is the past…yet, in some ways, will always be the same.
it’s a place where i will be in just a few hours.
it’s home…
i work at a place where i commonly run into brides. and it seems as though–at my workplace, at least–they don’t have a very good reputation. most of the time it is deserved. we simply lump all brides into one category and make assumptions about these individuals simply because of their current status. but now that i am a bride, i am a little more protective of the term. and i don’t think i fit the bill. i don’t think i am one of them.
you’ve seen them.
the brides that come with an agenda…
the agenda of getting what i’ve asked for and returning what i haven’t.
the agenda of “i need new furniture but didn’t want to seem greedy and simply ask for it so i filled my registry with a bunch of kitchen items i don’t want.”
the agenda, the entitlement, the superior status, the world revolving around them.
i’ve met them.
and i met, yet another one, tonight.
entering the store with a few trips of returning wedding gifts…from 8 months ago. i guess she just got around to sorting through gifts and making the trek back to the stores where she simply wanted credit for her gifts.
credit.
gifts purchased anywhere from june to september.
a wedding that was held one day shy of 6 months ago.
and when i explained our new return policy, she lost it.
she raised her voice.
she talked over me.
she came out…the ‘zilla.
i calmly tried to explain how i would help. she continued. as her voice began to increase in volume and others began noticing the scene she was creating, i calmly spoke curtly to her. i cut her off. i called her by name. i explained–yet again–how i was meeting her needs and helping her in her specific situation despite our new policy.
finally she got it.
she calmed down.
she apologized.
and she left…thankfully.
…only to return not even half an hour later.
she had a question, which she announced…as i was helping another customer.
i made her wait while i finished with my customer.
she studied her receipt…convinced it was not right.
i owed her money.
not that she was questioning me or the computer…really? seems like it to me.
i calmly explained that she could question but the computer automatically figures out how much i owe her…and how much i could put on her merch card.
i tried to explain…to no avail.
i post voided the transaction.
i started over.
i got the same results, the same amount.
she left…still confused.
i let her out…relieved.
and more than ever vowing not to be her.
and i don’t think i am…although fk might say otherwise.
i might not be her in public, out in the open…but i maybe her inside the comfort of my own relationships [recalling meltdowns with mom on the phone--at least once--and numerous ones over the most trivial things lately with fk].
so maybe i am her.
…but i sure hope not.
i am intrigued by this story coming out of haiti. the story of the US baptists–as they are touted…all 10 of them. all 10 of them now imprisoned on child trafficking charges for taking these haitian children across the border to the dominican republic. all done “in good faith”…all thinking this was right.
but was it?
what is right?
is there just one right answer?
i’m not sure i have the right answer, but i’m just not sure this is it.
taking kids from one devastating situation into another–no familiar surroundings, no family, no friends, nothing. removing some of these kids from their own parents. and was there even a follow-through plan? what were they going to do once they arrived in the DR…were they going to leave them there, were they going to bring them back to the US?
i’m just not sure.
but i get it…to an extent.
i get the parent’s plea for a better, a different life for their kids.
i get the children’s desire to escape.
i get the US baptists want to help…i get everyone wants to help…
but is this it?
is this the right answer?
and is there a right [or wrong] answer?
so many times we act like we know. we act like we have the best [or only] answer. we act like we have the right answer…the right thing to do, the right thing to say, the right way to justify it, the right behavior [and thus, the wrong one as well].
it seems to me that these US baptists proves what others outside these groups already suppose regarding both americans and christians.
they tend to act like they know…
they know best,
they know the right way…and the wrong way, supposing there is only one right.
their way. no other. no need to listen. no need to see it another way.
they come in.
they take over.
they try to convert you to their way…
without listening.
without regard to other ways.
without consideration of another way.
fk spontaneously suggested we go to artesia this afternoon. awhile ago, his mom had suggested he take me there so i could see the type of outfit she was having made for me…and the jewelry to accompany it. so we drove…and drove…and drove, finally making our way to 182nd street and the stores there. our first stop was this little indian restaurant–all that driving made us hungry. having never really eaten indian food, i simply stared at the menu and told fk to order for us. he told me what we would be having, then told me i would really like it since it is mostly vegetarian. i sat at the table, looked around the restaurant, ignored the C rating on the window, then turned my eyes to the bollywood on the screen. fk informed me this was the most famous actor in india…and he had seen all his films until he decided bollywood wasn’t his genre. i think it could be mine…
we ate our tasty fare and chatted about fk’s growing up. the food, the culture, the indian/pakistani things his parents tried to instill in him…in vain. getting to know one another just a little more…in a different context than the one in which we find ourselves.
samosas,
paratha,
assorted sweets the lady packed for us to go,
a trip to the house of spices [where we picked up a few of our own].
we then drove to los alamitos for a little bit of southern flair at the boot barn. i have been wanting cowboy boots for well over 4 years so we went to take stock of their inventory. i remember passing all the boot places driving through texas on the way to california back in december of 2005, yet not wanting to stop because i just wanted to make it to california [probably make it before i changed my mind]. so all these years i have looked for boots on and off again, nothing serious though. today, fk was determined i would find some boots. and find i did…quite an assortment so it took me awhile to look at all the options.
dan post.
laredo.
old gringo.
durango.
ariat.
justin.
frye.
since i am not a cowgirl, i didn’t want the ones that look the part…i wanted some with a little flair. a little something that set them apart from all others…and i believe i found them. yippee kiyay…
a little bit southern [or a lot]…yet with a little flair.
a little bit of how i grew up…yet not really.
a little bit more of getting to know one another…
i sat down to address more wedding invitations tonight after driving home from work in the rain…again. i needed someone[thing] to keep me company, something in the background as i did the mindless task of copying names, address, zip codes off the excel spreadsheet…something.
i popped it in. i had started watching it a few weeks earlier after a long day at work, but never finished it. and tonight, how appropriate.
it’s been a year–minus 3 weeks–since i have seen it. a year and a different status ago…a very different status ago.
it was just a few days prior to valentine’s day…and a few days following my break up with fk [or "the break" he claims we were on all along]. the movie was good, the time with the girls was fun, but the monologue at the end was telling.
seemed like it could have been talking to me…
and as i listened to it tonight, i thought it could have been me talking…
girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up.
if a guy punches you, he likes you.
never try to trim your own bangs.
and some day, you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending.every movie we see, every story we’re told implores us to wait for it–
the 3rd act twist,
the unexpected declaration of love,
the exception to the rule.
but sometimes, we’re so focused on finding our happy ending we don’t learn how to read the signs.
how to tell the ones who want us from the ones who don’t,
the ones who will stay from the ones who will leave.and maybe this happy ending doesn’t include a wonderful guy. maybe it’s you–on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. maybe the happy ending is just moving on.
or maybe the happy ending is this–knowing that through all the unreturned phone calls and broken hearts,
through all the blunders and mis-read signals,
through all the pain and embarrassment,
you never, ever gave up hope.
~narrated by gigi at the end of he’s just not that into you.
it was the picking up the pieces and moving on part,
realizing i was, once again, not the exception,
learning how to read the signs…and act accordingly.
it was these that i took from the movie last year–the part where i attempted to make sense of the break-up, the assumption that he just wasn’t that into me, the realization that maybe i had acted similarly to some of the women i had seen on the screen–and vowing not to do that…again. i had to stand on my own again, i had to learn from my experiences, i had to…
and [fast forward a year--minus those three weeks] i think i have. overcoming a heart break, learning from it…i came through a different person. so when fk and i decided to pursue something again–something else, i was different [as was he]. i had emerged stronger, more confident, sure of what i wanted and what i didn’t want…and what i wasn’t settling for, who i was, and fully capable of being alone…or with another.
and as i watched the movie tonight, i realized that i am in a much different place.
i am now engaged, addressing wedding invitations for my wedding that will occur in 8 weeks.
i am now getting married to the man who, a year ago, wasn’t so sure–and neither was i–until “the break.”
i now know that “if a guy wants to be with a girl, he will make it happen…no matter what” [just as gigi--and conner--says].
i am the one, now, standing beside my wonderful man and beginning our happy ending.
and maybe, just maybe, the ending doesn’t always work out the way we had anticipated from the start. maybe our happy ending is simply moving on…
accepting who we are…and being who we are, really.
maybe our happy ending doesn’t quite work out the way we had anticipated…
maybe better.
