I’ve started this thing about eight times.  I’ve contemplating shutting the whole thing down.  It seems superfluous, and honestly – I don’t have the time to maintain it like I would want to.  Anything I put here I could just as easily put in a facebook note.  In an email to all my friends and family…  I’m not using it as a social networking platform… I really have no desire to get back into that.

I have thoughts…about turning twenty-nine-for-the-first-time…about ‘being married’… about work… about life and living and gyming and loving and STUFF…  But I promised myself I would return to the gym today.  And I want to complete Fable II again before Fable III comes out.  And I need to get my hunter to 80 before WoW Cataclysm comes out…  and I have two shelves of blurays I still haven’t seen… books to read… socializing to squeeze in somewhere… and then in two months Basketball starts  and everything will spiral out of control til March again.  It’s been two months since my wedding and I have thought every single day that I should share some of the honeymoon pics here… but I haven’t.

In a lot of ways I feel like a rubber band that has snapped back in on itself.  Everything was open and out there and oh-so-sharey the last few months before the wedding.  My phone calls had phone calls.  I was blogging updates here, there and everywhere.  And now… lately I am just SO HAPPY to be silent.  To introvert.  To stop caring about everyone but me.  To do only what I want.

My birthday is in three weeks – and as of right now I have absolutely no desire to celebrate.  No karaoke.  No dinner.  No happy hour.  I don’t want the hassle of deciding who to invite and how and why and where we’d go and then trying to confirm details… ick.  Don’t wanna.  The very idea makes my skin crawl.

I just want to curl into my corner on the couch with book or controller or game and be left alone.  I don’t want to have to pretend to care how anyone else’s day went.  I don’t want to have to pretend I am not thoroughly irritated to be carrying on a conversation instead of doing what I want – which is solitary and silent time passage.

Really, other than Robbie, I don’t particularly want to talk to anyone.  At all.  And what’s been funny the last couple months is seeing that most of my real friends get it – and haven’t pushed or prodded.  They haven’t asked if we’re still friends or if I might be mad at them.  There are not words for how much I love them for giving me this space I seem to so desperately need lately.

And, looking over this now, it seems I have now written an entire blog on how I don’t want to be social.  Which is hilarious to me…

I wrote this yesterday.  Meant to post it then, too.  And yet, I came home, went to the gym, came home, showered, and then curled up with a book on the back porch for as long as possible.  I got it in the mail yesterday and somehow completed reading all 800+ pages already.

There is a lot going on.  99% of which I can’t talk about here.  Because it’s public.  Because I have to be a grown up.  Because I have to stay conscious of other people’s feelings and thoughts and impressions and … blah blah blah.

What I can say is that I love my husband and my friends and my dogs.  I love my washer and my dryer, my vacuum and my new car (although the car I had to get used to).   I love date nights and all the horror movies I’ve seen lately.  I love each and every wedding gift we received, including the bachelorette stuff, even though I suck at setting time aside for thank you notes.  I loved being back at the gym yesterday, and missed it today when I decided maybe it was better for my toe if I kept it out of gym shoes for a few more days.  (It hurts, like a motherfucker.  I thought the toenail might be ingrown, but no.  No idea what’s going on there…)  I love that my stereo has a remote and a hidey-hole for my ipod to live in.  I loved Piranhas 3D.  I love that I am slowly learning new, more technical skills at work; skills that are infinitely more marketable than where I was six weeks ago.

There is a lot I would change… there is a lot I am so.very.OVER….  and I’m still working on learning to focus on the good instead of the bad… so it leaves me with not a lot to say – but a whole lot of words to say it with.

Being married is…weird…to me.  Not that anything in our relationship changed on June 13th, or that suddenly we were magically more committed to each other than before, or anything like that…  It’s more about getting used to this new identity of ‘wife’ for me.  In a lot of ways, it’s the same soul searching I went through when we got engaged and I realized I wasn’t the ‘typical’ bride.  Realizing that I felt that because I had assumed that moniker, I should be different…somehow…but not being able to put my finger on how or why.

I’ve always been a ‘good’ girlfriend.  I was intuitive enough to know when there’s a problem and adult enough to want to address it most of the time.  I was open and honest and willing to compromise.  I wanted to make tea when my boyfriends got sick and to take them out for their birthdays and miscellaneous celebratory occasions.

Then I found myself with a new label.  I was a fiancée.  And that title, and the situations that led up to it, cemented my certainty in this relationship.  But even though my wedding was atypical, I FELT like a bride.  I was giddy and excited and focused and (toward the end) stressed out.  I liked having people notice my single ring and getting excited FOR me.  I got exasperated with my future husband for his lack of interest in the details and read post after post on the internet on DIY Weddings and OffbeatBrides.

And then the day came and went and suddenly I was a wife.  What does that even mean?  What is the difference between a fiancée and a wife?  What does being a wife feel like?  How is it different from long-term girlfriend?  From ‘life partner’?  Some people think the difference is that god sanctions hetero, monogamous, committed relationships.  My grandmother, on the other hand, thinks that I am not a wife – because I wasn’t married in a church and had a non-religious ceremony.  That pisses me off enough to want to claim the title, but I struggle to think of myself as a newlywed…as Robbie’s wife…

I want to be a good wife… but I have no idea what that means.  This was never a role I saw for myself…wanted for myself.  I didn’t spend hours thinking about what kind of wife I would be…  I feel a bit lost.  It’s like fumbling in the dark of an unfamiliar house looking for a light switch.

I’ll spare you the play by play of getting ready and getting out to the boat.  My dad walked me down the dock while I attempted to keep my ribbon veil on my head instead of flying into the water.  My little sister (Kit) had done a great job of putting up the few little decorations I wanted and the boys were finishing putting the DJ stuff together.    A quick headcount revealed we were down a couple guests – one of our DJs.  We called to see where he was and he admitted he’d forgotten what day it was.  Since he was not on his way already, we plugged in the IPOD and off we went.

We’d put together a prop box for pics that I immediately got drunk and forgot about after Kit talked me into getting the following pic:

yeah, that's a dinosaur helmet. what?

Dinosaur helmets are all the rage for weddings now. you don't know.

The captain, gods bless him, knew of a cove we could go where the wind wouldn’t be as bad, a quick 30 minute trip.  So we got to hang out with our friends and family while we traveled from point A to B.

We arrived in the cove, and DeAnne commandeered the microphone to announce the start of the ceremony.

one of the only sweet moments captured... we made faces at each other through most of it so we wouldn't cry.

Ten minutes later, we were married!

Someone totally cheated to get this. They were supposed to be having their own kiss. It was IN the ceremony, dammit.

We attempted group shots, but with so many cameras around I don’t think we got many (if any) of everyone looking at the same camera at the same time lol.  The captain opened the gates for the slide and the place to jump off the top of the boat and I might have pushed Jeremy so he was first in the water.  Maybe.

the girls

The next couple hours we hung out.  Some friends (of friends) came by on their own boat and dropped off a bottle of champagne for Robbie and me.  We immediately opened it and drank the entire thing.  We’re rock stars that way.  We made sure to eat – apparently that is the number one thing most people don’t do at their weddings, and I wanted to be sure we weren’t in that crowd.  While I was grabbing my burger I was informed I’d forgotten to pick up/bring the vegetarian foodstuffs.  *headdesk*  I felt horrible, but DeAnne, bless her, was happy to eat an extra slice of cake instead of a veggie burger or meatless hotdog.  I’m thinking we will probably have her and her husband over at some point in the future for mini pot pies to apologize and say thanks for being awesome.

that's my dad. cooking very UN-Vegetarian food.

Since De was eating relish sandwiches in the meantime, I decided it was time to cut the cake – post haste.  Since the sister who’d made it was in the water I let her know that as soon as I was done with my burger we were cutting off dino heads – with or without her.    Everyone got out of the water and made it below deck just in time to watch us stuff rice krispy dinosaur heads in each others mouth.

the little cake that could

SMOOSH!

YAY Rice Krispy Treats!

All of a sudden it was time to head back to the dock.  Everyone had told us that it would fly by and we wouldn’t get to spend as much time with everyone as we wanted, but I didn’t believe them.  I figured we’d outsmarted everyone by sticking them all on a boat for four hours with no escape….  But I was wrong.  It did, indeed, fly by.  So we gave our DJ free reign with the sounds and turned the volume up all the way back to the dock.

The captain had to ask us to leave faster because the next group couldn’t park lol.  I had no idea which of my stuff (that wasn’t going on the honeymoon) was with whom/going where, but didn’t particularly care anymore.  So we climbed back in my new Mother In Law’s truck and left.  A quick stop at the house to say goodbye to the dogs and then we were officially on our honeymoon.

aaaaaaaaaaaaand cause it’s my blog and I can… more of my favorite pics:

Yes, that's Robbie - in my ribbon veil.

jumping off the top of the boat

I lick people. It's what I do.

the boys

I was THIS drunk by the time we made it to the hotel that night.

Friday night was the bachelorette party.  In all my awesomeness, I completely didn’t realize that our wedding fell on R.O.T. Rally weekend, so Austin was full of bikers and tourists.  Traffic was a bitch at all times, most especially Friday evening along I-35 as everyone poured into town and made their way downtown and out to the Rally.  This was, incidentally, also the time that we were trying to get down I-35 to the bachelorette dinner at Canoli Joe’s.  Teri was a saint and drove everyone around all weekend in this traffic.  She deserves a medal.  We amused ourselves with the ‘in my crotch’ game.  {If you’ve never played, you just add “in my crotch” to street signs/store signs/billboard signs/etc.  My favorite so far is “Pickup Heaven…in my crotch”  followed immediately by “Slow, Children at Play…in my crotch” and “Jesus is Coming!!… in my crotch.)  Fantastic.

I’d never been to Canoli Joe’s, but I wasn’t let down.  I could eat a vat of their green beans.  Seriously.  The waiter was super nice and didn’t seem overly embarrassed to be entering the room during the present openings lol.  One of my bridesmaids – a roommate from college – supplied me with a magic cup.  It was sparkly and had feathers on the bottom and was already awesome even before I realized it was magic.  I drank and drank and drank out of that cup all night long, and it never got empty.  Other than to travel from Canoli Joe’s to the bar… which is its own story.

Before I start that story – let me preface it with the backstory, something I didn’t think to share with anyone else prior to climbing in a car with Natalie to travel from dinner to the bar.  Natalie and I have somewhat of a history with roadtrips – dating back to our freshman year at Baylor.  The most relevant is the time we decided to go to Mexico for Fall Break, and yet wound up in Lousiana.  There is a lot more to this story, including a high speed cop chase, but the relevant information is that we headed in one direction, but wound up in a complete other location.

But Natalie had a GPS now.  So surely we’d be fine – and off we went!  Zipping past the caravan of other Bachelorette Partiers and into the dark…and then further into the dark…and then even further…

“Point three miles to destination” chimed the GPS – but there was nothing around.  Not for another couple miles.  I reached for my phone to call the others and find out if we’d passed it, but realized it was in another car, with my sister who had my purse.  Someone eventually realized they had my phone and called us – and we turned around and they talked us through finding the little hole in the wall dive bar in the middle of nowhere.  We’d gone almost twenty miles too far lol.  But I got to walk in to applause, which was equal parts awesome and embarrassing.

The Jeremy Miller Band was playing.  They are awesome and you should check them out.  There was pool played and Journey sang by my girls while the band played (Pee Ess:  I still need that video…  Please?  Pretty Please?  With a cherry on top?)  and shots taken (PS – I LOATHE lemon drops now, officially.)  and I got so drunk that I started stealing other people’s drinks without asking/thinking about it to pour in my Magic Cup – which is now stained pink, even though I don’t remember drinking anything at all pink or red.  O_o

As much I love you, internets, I cannot bring myself to post ALL the pics, but here are some of my favorite moments:

Teri licked me!

I stole a lot of drinks that night...

<3 Cass

no comment

<3 <3 <3

HAT!

Me, Courtni, and a pole.... what's not to love?

HA!

I absolutely don't remember this.

Magic Cup

Yep. Embarrassed = Me

But it’s Saturday. And somehow the puppy knows…

He knows that once she puts her feet on the floor she will get dressed and go to the dresser in the corner to grab a pair of socks, and trudge through the living room to let him out. While he takes care of business she will put food in his bowl that he won’t eat; not yet. She will trudge back thorough the living room into the computer room and stare at her facebook wall – not understanding the characters on the screen. He will put his giant paws on her shoulder and lick her face until she instructs him to get down. Then she’ll put on the socks she’s had in her hand the whole time. She will reach for her sneakers and he will run into the living room to run circles around the fireplace while he waits.

She will debate going back to bed, but feel guilty for getting him this excited only to back out. So she will sigh and trudge back to the living room to grab the leash of the doorknob. He will spin in tight little circles on his butt and start to bark, only to remember he’s not supposed to in the house – opening and closing his mouth again and again as fast as he is spinnging circles on his butt. She will walk to the back door and he will follow reluctantly, taking two or three side trips to again run a circle around the fireplace – indicating she is (obviously) going the wrong way.

Once outside she will drop the leash on the step and ask him to go get his ball. He will go fetch it from the landmine filled yard and drop it five feet later and continue back to her – barking now that he’s allowed to. They will repeat this at least three times until he finally brings the ball to her, then he will want to play tug instead of fetch.

“Drop it.”

He will let go and run for the far right corner. She will throw it to the left, because she is feeling obstinent. He will bring it back and drop it, leaving her to pick it up off the ground while he goes to nose the leash sitting by her feet. She will ignore him and throw the ball again – to the ‘correct’ corner this time. They will repeat this at least four times.

The last time she will grab the ball and hold it just out of his reach while she walks to the corner of the porch – making him jump for it, but not quite letting him catch it.

“Sit.”

He will sit, tail wagging furiously behind him; knowing this is the last time… if he gets it right.

“Stay.” And she will hurl the ball to the furthest corner, watching as his entire body vibrates with the need to chase the flying object.

“Good boy!” She’ll say – if he stays.. “Go get it!”

“What did I say?!?” She’ll demand if he runs after the ball, and immediately afterword his butt will plant itself back on the ground and his ears will tuck back against his head.

“Come.” He will hesitantly come back to her and nose her leg.

“Good boy.” She will scratch his chest and throat and then release him.

“Go get it!” And he will tear a path through the grass to retrieve the ball.

“Good job! Sit.”

Once the sit/stay has been successfully accomplished, she will pick the leash back up. He will run back through the open door to dance impatiently in front of the front door.

“Sit.”

He will sit.

“Stay.”

She will leave him in front of the door to go turn off all the lights and make sure his uneaten food has been picked up off the kitchen floor.

“Good boy!” And she will attach the leash while he attempts to soak her face with puppy kisses.

She will firmly grab the training lead and open the door. He will debate bolting out the door, but look up at her instead and wait as she closes and locks the door behind her, tucking the key into her sock.

And then she will smile and scratch his head.

…jingle jingle jingle jingle…

She shakes her head and pulls herself back from her reverie. She tucks her feet back under the covers and rolls back over, cuddling closer to the man next to her.

It’s not Saturday, she decides. Not yet.

She hears the puppy sigh heavily as he lays back down, and smiles as she drifts back to sleep.

I am bittersweet, and sometimes angry, about my wedding. It will be the first time in a long time that a large number of my ladies will be in one place – my place. (We all met through myspace blogs – and somehow managed to retain the friendships even after the majority of us left the space for good.) My soul has been gasping for air the last couple weeks and they are the breath of life that I need. It’s hard to explain the sensation of your heart wanting to gallop ahead in time toward us all being together – straining in your chest toward a not-so-distant-future… 21 days to go. well, only 19 until the first one gets here. 22 til everyone that is coming arrives…

I know, that’s a happy thing. But…

I’ll be busy with the whole getting-married thang… so there will be things I miss. Stories that I will not be a part of. And I’m selfish enough that that makes me sad. Part of me knows that is probably a good thing – because there will also probably be drama that I miss. And when it’s all said and done, I’ll be married for reals – all formally and shite. But, there is still that part of me that haz a sad.

And – the bigger sadness – is that I could not afford to invite them all. I had to take names off my list. It felt like I was ranking my friends – even if how much I loved someone had nothing to do with the decision to take them off the guestlist. I’m still making phone calls trying to explain to people who’s feelings have been hurt by it. Knowing I am to blame for those hurt feelings because I can’t keep myself from talking about it in front of them. Making posts on facebook that turn in to 50 comment threads with everyone sharing excitement… Etiquette gets all muddled with social media. Part of me wants to stand my ground and say that it’s my twitter/wall/blog/whatever and thus, about what’s going on in my life – which is currently The Wedding. Part of me is redfaced and hiding in the corner because Mrs. McCallie would be ashamed of me and my manners…

Mrs. McCallie would have loved this.

Then there’s the whole 21-days-to-pay-for-it thing that I am doing my damnedest to not freak out about. One of said soul sisters told me a while back that it will be awesome no matter what I do or don’t do – because I am awesome and my guests are awesome and we can’t help but all be awesome together. We will make it a party – with or without booze or fancy DJ equipment…

I’m repeating that like a mantra in my head. I really can’t wait til they’re here so I can believe it. Right now I’m running on faith, caffeine and sheer determination.

Today is for bucket listing. I used to have a list written down somewhere, in a journal I probably still have floating around somewhere. I wrote it when I was twenty. It contained things like “petting a tiger” and “go muddin’ in Russia.” Yeah, I’m from the country – what of it. Muddin’ is a verb and a completely valid recreational activity. But in the last eight (almost nine!) years since writing it, and especially in the last two years, my list has changed a bit. There is a whole life waiting for me after this wedding thing, and today I need to remind myself of it – so here’s a list of all the things I want to do with that whole life waiting for me starting June 14th, 2010…

1) Pet a tiger. Yes, I still want to do this. I wonder what their fur feels like (don’t tell me! I don’t know on purpose!) and I want that tingle of fear from knowing no tiger is ever completely tamed – so I can be proud of how brave I’ve been afterward. Even better would be to hug one, but I don’t know that i’d EVER be that brave… we’ll see.

2) Own my our own home. This never mattered to me before. When I was single I was happy to live out the rest of my days in apartments – where someone else had to fix the toilet and pest-control was free… but with this whole “Love” thing I have found myself yearning for a home for my family. A place to call “ours.” Where I can paint and start a garden two or three times until I get it right and not worry about what the landlord will think of Bauer’s holes in the backyard. To obtain real furniture and “pieces.” To host dinner parties and game nights…

3) Hang-glide. Period. As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized that a lot of my fear of heights is actually a fear of falling. Because when you are falling you aren’t in control, and you are going very, very fast. I dislike going fast more and more the older I get. I will probably wind up the little old lady you all hate – doing 50 mph on the highway in the fast lane – but I’ll come knock on your window when we reach the next stop light and lecture you on the proper purpose for your car’s horn – as a safety feature and not a ‘fuck you’ button. Anyhow – Hang-gliding is not fast. It’s a CONTROLLED, SLOW descent. I think I’d dig hang-gliding. Parasailing too. It can go hear since they’re essentially the same thing.

4) Grow a VEGETABLE garden. No flowers. Flowers invite bees. I am allergic to bees and thus cannot/willnot do flower gardens. Cactus maybe. That’d be cool. If we could move to Arizona. (*insert sigh here*) I want to eat my own vegetables. I want that feeling of accomplishment of having grown something. I want to make a complete meal out of stuff that came out of my yard. Yes.

5) Run a marathon. There. I said it. No turning back now. I really do. I’ve been reading all these InItToGymIt blogs from all these amazing runners and I am BEYOND inspired. All these people, who a few weeks ago couldn’t run for five minutes without stopping are now running twenty five. There used to be this blog I read on thesitethatshallnotbenamed. The guy (I don’t, for the life of me, remember his name jerry maybe?) typically blogged about movies, but every once in a while he would blog about his run. Those blogs mesmerized me. Hypnotized me. Enthralled me. But I was so mired in firguring out who I was and was not that I didn’t have the spare energy or time to ponder what I COULD be. I COULD be a runner. I could be a MARATHON RUNNER. All that’s stopping me, is me. And it’s kinda silly to stop myself from being that awesome. So I’m not going to anymore. Starting tonight. One minute at a time. I already have a watch that will help me.

6) LEARN TO FRIGGEN KNIT. I want to learn so very very badly. Are there books you can buy that teach you? A website somewhere? It’s actually first on my list for when the *Awesomeness is over. I want to make my own beanies and arm warmers and scarves and … well you get the picture.

Six is good for now I think. I have spaghetti to go make. What’s on your list?

Apparently there was a “suspicious package” (shutitcassie!) that caused the police to lock the whole building down, and then evacuate it. And then, thirty minutes later, Robbie gets a call from the lawyer telling him to get out of the building. I guess they missed that room when they evacuated. (surprise, surprise!) Then they went in with a robot and the bomb squad and found out it was actually not a bomb and nothing to be worried about.

Robbie’s case is rescheduled for June 2.

But I am not okay. I babied my dog through the thunderstorms all day and dragged the other all to hell and back on a leash the minute I ‘got off’ work. (I decided not to mutilate the elliptical, they’re expensive.) Then I fixed the cable box.

I know nothing happened. I know he’s okay. I know there wasn’t even anything bad in that package that was so suspicious… But I am not okay.

What if it had been a bomb? What if the lawyer hadn’t called?

Robbie could have died today. 30 days before our wedding date. Only 700 days since the night I met him. And I wouldn’t have been there.

And I am not okay with that. With any of it.

I understand he COULD die any day. But I had never thought about not being there. About having to get that call. About having to deal with him being gone and me having to go on. I don’t like it and I don’t want to think about it anymore, but I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s a trainwreck in my head that I cant help but watch.

Horrifying and sad but I cant turn away and even as it fades into the distance I’m sitting with my face and palms on the window straining to see it still…

AND MY SKIRT IS HERE! It’s froofy and poofy and notquitetherightcolor but I LOVES it. LOVES. LOVES. LOVES. It *FITS*

And I may spend all day Saturday twirling circles in it.

More then…

So, we go tonight. With everyone else. There will be elbows flying if anyone tries to encroach on my personal space. Do you hear that, Austinites? ELBOWS. I’m particularly vicious today – don’t tempt your fate. Be polite, or be rude from far away, or be rude and receive an immediate elbow to the gut.

:-p

I’m playing…kind of. Maybe. Today is actually much better than yesterday. It might be because of the OREO COOKIE CHEESEQUAKE BLIZZARD I let myself have, and eat all of. Or because I shaved. Or because I plan to do my feet immediately following this blog.

By which I mean… now.