squishisms.com

I wrote a blog today about pooping. *smh*

Sorry, had to get that out before I could move on.

I am feeling much better. I am not quite there, not quite over the finish line on my journey toward ‘Fine’, but much closer to it. In the homestretch, as it were. Which may or may not have to do with it being SEVENTY FIVE DAYS til Juneteenth. *cue heart racing again* I am |thisclose| to having at least a single bouquet finished, and all my invites are stamped and addressed and will go out tomorrow. Screw the checkmark, I drew a thick black line through that line-item with a friggen sharpie. DONE AND DONE. They aren’t perfect – but they’re mine, so they don’t have to be.

It might have to do with FINALLY having people over. Just a few, but enough to make me feel like I am part of something bigger than this house. Part of something OTHER than this house. This house which still isn’t completely unpacked or put together – which makes me want to cry, but I deal. Only so much a girl can do – and I promised myself I wouldn’t stress myself sick anymore. It was nice to have people here. To know that they don’t begrudge us our long hiatus due to finances and driving issues. And it made me feel like a grown up, if that makes sense, to have enough room to seat them all, plus us and our two dogs.

We won’t talk about the fact that I wore a hoodie most of the night. I’m already dealing with that.

It might have to do with this newfound motivation, determination and accountability. It might be that I decided that Work. Just. Isn’t. Worth. It. and let go. It’s someone else’s baby now – and I’ve never claimed to be a good babysitter. It might be that the wedding is 75 days away. The rest of my life starts in 75 days – and I am both ready and absolutelynotready for it to be here already.

It might be that I was reminded how rock solid Robbie and I are. How good a fit we are.

It might be that I spent an hour on the phone with my little sister.

It might be that Bauer is maybe, finally, getting the whole leash-training thing.

It might be that I went and looked at the boat today and everything I wanted is possible – and the owner is glad I’m not THAT Bride. (Side note: Why rent a party barge for a wedding and then try to make it something else? Something nicer? People boggle my brain.)

It might be that I am done waiting for other people to make an effort to make me happy and am now not only Seeking, but SEIZING my sunshine.

It might be that I have gotten to know my neighbors on at least a sight basis by walking my dog and feel safe in my neighborhood, even if nobody else does.

It might be that Bauer found his cojones and growled at Ken. We think he’s racist – my dog, not Ken.

Or… it just might be that I don’t give a damn anymore. About anything but MY happiness.

/shrug.

I’m done. Over it. Tired of being so whiny here. My life is not bad, kids. It really isn’t. In fact, on most days, from the time I get home until the time I leave for work the next morning – I love my life. It is safe and warm and HOME-y. It’s busy, but boring… at least as far as blog-worthiness is concerned.

I am consumed with wedding plans. Everything is the wedding. Every decision I make is tied to this party we are planning. I can’t go more than ten minutes without thinking about it. What I need, or want or could be doing.

And I’ve been trying not to blog about it…but I’ve remembered this is my blog. About my life. And that I can put whatever I want in it.

So, today I feel like sharing a lesson my wedding is teaching me.

I’m just a little on the trashy side… and I like it this way.

It started off as just not really loving anything I was seeing on the traditional wedding sites. Theknot and marthastewart and all those sites have really pretty pictures, and I could appreciate them and the fact that some of those pretty pictures would be PERFECT for this or that friend of mine… but nothing really struck a chord with me. Nothing really felt authentically “ME.” And that mattered to me. And Robbie especially wasn’t into the suit-and-tie-everyone-stare-at-us affair once we nixed the Vegas idea.

And when someone suggested just having a boat party – it clicked. And I wavered back and forth between just getting a white bikini and calling it a day… but ultimately decided that was a little too far into Pam Anderson’s territory for me. But a boat, specifically a party barge, is not the place for a white froofy dress. So I have had to put together something boat appropriate, that still makes me feel special and makes me smile – and the result is… well – obviously a little bit on the trashy side is all I’ll give up at this point.

And I found the OBT (that’s OffbeatBrideTribe, for those unaware), and started browsing their photo pool, and joined the site and began sharing my thoughts and trepidations about this whole wedding thang… and met women who have supported every idea I’ve had and encouraged me to let me be…well, me. As I floundered away from feeling obligated to have the wedding everyone expected and slowing moving toward the wedding of MY dreams.

Through this planning process I have learned to just own up to loving things a little sparkly, a little low cut, a bit overdone, and a tad childish. I like to think I pull the sumtotal off with grace and class… but I guess we’ll see.

There will always be a part of me that loves overalls and wants to wear them in public. I will always love black eyeliner and fingernails that are justatad too long. There is a part that will squee over rainbow colored zebra print heels and take an idea just a tad too far…

But, while we were out this last weekend, Robbie and I picked up a picture for the house – a print of zebras that we both like. We got it home and hung it up and then Robbie told me the reason he likes it:

Because it looks like something from a porn movie.

And I realized he was right, and that there WAS a part of me that wanted to put it in the biggest, tackiest painted gold frame I could find.

And that’s why we’re getting married.

Because, deep down, he’s just a little bit trashy too.

I seem to have lost mine.

I’m determined to get it back though.

I’m tired of hating everything all the time. I’m tired of not believing anything will change, because there is nothing *I* can change.

I can change my attitude.

I will do what I need to in order to have the wedding I want. Anyone who takes issue with that is free to leave my life. I will get my dog leash trained. I will get Robbie’s dog pooping without crying, shaking or hesitating. I will keep my temper in check at work without cigarettes. I will lose the weight I want – because that is how I am going to deal with the stress of handling everything else – with exercise.

I was reminded on Friday that I am not alone. That there are people out there who love me, for me, with no strings attached. No expectations of me. They understand my situation and do what they can to help without bemoaning (or broadcasting) their sacrifice for me.

And because they’re there… I will find my optimism.

There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding… Because, you see, I am not The One – and thus neither is my wedding.

I am not the one to give a flying fuck if you think my invites should already be designed and printed and stuffed into envelopes.

I am not the the one to care if you are offended by my cheeky wording.

I am not the one who will cry if you talk to all your friends about how ‘tacky’ my wedding is going to be – in your most humble opinion, of course.

Get over yourself.

Guess what?

Technically – for all intents and purposes – we are ALREADY married. The purpose of this wedding isn’t to get married. Married is a legal thing – one that friends of mine are not currently allowed – so the MARRIAGE part of this doesn’t so much matter to me. I am not having a wedding to get married – so stop thinking of it as a wedding.

This is a celebration. A PARTY. The first of many that we will host together, as a couple – almost completely on our own financially. So things will happen as we can afford them. And we will take a moment to tell you exactly what we are committed to in this relationship, and then the pomp and ceremony is done.

Nothing formal.

It’s ON A BOAT FOR GODS SAKE.

There won’t be any I Corinthians, or a unity candle or sand ceremony. No toasts. No first dance. No Father/Daughter dance. No garter toss. No grand send off through a rain of rice/bubbles/confetti.

There will be barbecue. There will be electronic music by the best DJs we know and happyfuntimemusic courtesy of our IPOD. There will be bubbles and confetti and candy and fun. Beer. Bikinis.

Doesn’t sound like the wedding that would require raised type on vellum paper invites, does it? Count yourself lucky I didn’t just send an evite. Cause I thought about it. Seriously.

Additionally – It is not the only thing going on in my life. I have a full time job that, to be frankly fucking honest, is NOT going well at the moment. I’m doing the work, literally, of three people more days than not. I also have a puppy to train and work with so he doesn’t eat off anyone’s face or pee everywhere when they come into my house for the rehearsal dinner. I have to make time to lose the weight I want to to wear what I want to on this Floating Wedding Reception of Awesomeness that we are hosting. I also have to shower and clean the house and brush my teeth and go to the eye dr and grocery shopping and I can’t even tell you when I last watched a basketball game.

So – if I seem a bit behind to you… If I seem a bit disorganized… Fuck off.

Yeah, I went there.

Fuck right off. You have no idea what else I have going on or what else I am juggling to try to keep my life going AND planning and paying for a wedding on a budget with one income to entertain and include you in “the most special day of our lives.” You have no fucking clue how organized I am. My LISTS HAVE LISTS. color coded and tabbed and spreadsheeted.

And frankly, if I “obviously don’t have time” to do the things you think I should be doing, when you think I should be doing them – then obviously I don’t have the time or energy to give a fuck what you think about it.

/fin

And now, I go shopping.

W is for Wicked.

On our Wedding Website I said:

Courtni is Amanda’s Soul Sister.  Her words, her inspiration, her attitude and her unconditional love and support were crucial to Amanda becoming the woman that Robbie fell in love with.  The wedding would not be complete without her.

That is not an exaggeration.  When I first ‘met’ WickedGame – I was intimidated beyond belief.  I had never cared for or about blog-ratings or the myspace ‘elite’ as I thought of them – and she, at least in my eyes, was one of the Elite…but I desperately wanted to know this Woman Whose Words echoed my soul.  More than just Wanting to know her, I Wanted…Needed…her to know ME.  I stalked her blog for months before leaving my first comment.  I almost cried the first time she commented on mine – I felt like I’d won an award.

Wicked is a Writer.  The undiscovered/unacknowledged 10^th World Wonder.  Untempered honesty Winds its Way through every Word she speaks, pens, or types.  More than anyone else I know – Courtni owns Who and What she is.  Completely and Without an ounce of shame.  I have never seen her pull a punch.  And so, when she accepted me – I knew it was real.  When she complimented my Writing – I knew it was real.  She played a big part in my acceptance of my Self.  She exudes strength and Wisdom, and I soaked it up.

And, for the first time in my life, I found myself truly interested in watching a pregnancy progress.  Even being squicked out if I thought about it in terms of ME or MY LIFE… I found myself fascinated by her letters to her unborn daughter.  Teary eyed and full of Warm fuzzies.  It was the first glimpse I had into the soft, gooey WickedHeart beating beneath the hard {candy} shell she portrayed.  And yet, it was no less strong than that exterior.

I almost pee’d my pants when I learned she was going to be in Tennessee for Gigifest.  I was SOOO excited to be able to meet this amazing Woman…and then got tongue-tied when I finally did…and right about the time I started to realize she was human, and neither deserved, nor wanted the pedestal I’d placed her on – and relax – I got the flu.

In the months following got to know Courtni all over again.  Without the idolization, as an equal – a sister.  I stopped feeling like the lost little loser tagging along with the cool kids and realized the cool kids thought I was cool.  I stopped trying and started BEING.  It was a flipped switch, not a process.  An epiphany fueled by the knowledge that Women such as Courtni liked me. Me.  Singing badly at the top of my lungs at two in the morning in the kitchen, wearing pajama pants and a lime green bra that had seen better days – they liked me. Stressed up by superstition and in desperate need of a sports bar – they liked me. Sick as all hell, whiney, mopey and bitter at missing out on the festivities – they liked me.

And when the Frog turned out to be just a Frog, and not a Prince – they were there.  And as I came into my own, there were Wicked little text messages spurring me on.  Forcing me to think a little harder, dig a little deeper into the void known as my Self and KNOW.  And when I needed a new outlet, she got me a visa to thepqnation.

And when I met a man really Worth my time and effort…and when I fell in love with him…and when I got engaged to him– no one was happier for me than Courtni.  LittleMissWicked was happier to hear I found a love like this than I think my own mother was.  It made total sense to me to ask her to stand with me.  And the perfect way to express what (at the time) I had no Words for:  How much she meant to me.

(*ahem*  notgonnacrynotgonnacrynotgonnacrynotgonnacry *ahem*)

So yes.  W is for Wicked.

Carry on.

I’d like to take moment – and just a moment… to let the world know how much I appreciate my (soon to be) In-laws.

Due to the whole wedding planning thing, I currently frequent a number of wedding social networking sites. And on each site, I hear horror story after horror story regarding the Inlaws… typically, specifically the MotherInLaw.

Other brides posts stories of their Interference in the planning. Their Inquisitiveness going a step (or four) too far and becoming Improper. A friend of mine actually had a DRESS bought for her, even though she had a wedding dress already paid for, and brought to her for wearing AT THE WEDDING.

I am grateful I have no stories such as this.

My InLaws are awesome. And I am grateful that it is Inconceivable to me that there are women who do the things I read about, and women who let them.

In case you hadn’t caught it… I’m Engaged.

Me.  This girl.  Engaged.

Whodathunk?

Not me.  Never me.  I was completely sure I wasn’t meant to have an Other.  Especially not a singular Other.  Never married, never a mother.  And I was completely okay with that.  I was more than okay with that.  I Embraced it.

And then it changed.  And for the last year, I have been Engaged.

…in case you don’t know me…  I love to plan things.  I love lists.  And I ADORE a good party.  Guess what being Engaged is all about?  Yeah.  That.  AND- being Engaged is awesome in and of itself.  Everyone is happy for you all the time.  Life is full of congratulations and oohs and ahhs.  I’m notsobig a fan of random people grabbing my hand all the time to look at the ring… but it’s really a small price to pay.

Oh, and there’s the whole ridiculously in love bit too.

Being Engaged gives me something to do.  I have a wedding to plan.  Full a billion little details.  Twenty zillion lists to make.  Things to keep track of.  I can spend DAYS on the internet looking at wedding porn.  Dresses and favors and shoes and fascinators and ideas and blogs and inspiration boards and forums…

And it made me start Exercising.  And it motivated me to quit smoking…

But I’ll stop there fo rtoday.  I think we’ve all heard enough about my engagement lol.