You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September, 2007.
The wedding was lovely, my solo went really well because I was distracted enough by a faulty mike stand not to be nervous, the new condo is a mess because Becca and I are both working full time and were gone over the weekend, and I have not been getting enough sleep.
But more importantly, Mike proposed on Friday night. I’m too tired to be giddy on my blog right now, but I’m very, very happy. He had a blanket and a bottle of wine down on a small dock down at the dam when I came into Goshen late Friday night. The poor man had to deal with me pushing back the time of my arrival about an hour and a half over the course of the evening. He said exactly the right thing, and it would sound corny if I repeated it, but it was perfect. And it took my breath away.
Then we headed back to his place to get ready for the Brick house “gender confusion” party. I wore a pair of black pants and one of his shirts and ties, and then dolled him all up. Seriously, he cleans up pretty nice. After I finished his hair and makeup and he was still in the chair I fished out his ring (I knew he was proposing that weekend…it’s a long story) and got down on one knee. I got some hand flutters and giggles from him. The rest of the weekend was a whirl wind of seeing people.
It would be a lie to say that I’m not still fearful, but that’s were faith comes in. The faith that I’m not destined to live the same mistakes/miseries over and over again. Faith that love and commitment are not out of my grasp.
The best moment of the weekend was talking with a newly married couple I’m friends with. She advised me to find a time to be alone after the ceremony and before the reception. I was struck by the though of those first few moments of marriage. What an amazing thing!
Becca and I are moving on Saturday. It’s official. There was doubt cast on that plan yesterday, but it’s been cleared up today. This is very, very good because we made an anouncement at church on sunday, and we arranged for a van. I of course will not be there. I’ll be leaving early on Thursday for Oregon and my friend Abby’s wedding. Mike’s coming with me! 
I don’t want to be worrying about the move while I’m on “vacation”. So I have alot to do so that all my stuff can be moved without my input or supervision. Thanks to Erini, I’m taking tomorrow off to get it all done.
Abby’s getting married! (not my roommate, a friend from high school) I’m a bride’s maid and I’m singing. I found out last night that I’m not going to be able to rehearse with my accompanist Darren until right before the wedding. He’s also doing some harmony on the choruses, so there’s all those elements to piece together, my voice, the piano, his voice. Scary. scary. scary. Oy. Luckily, Darren’s an old high school friend and we’ve been singing together for a long time. It’s just scary for me because the accompaniment usually affects how I use my voice. I’m sure it will go fine.
If someone (like your mother) gives you some peppers, ask what kind they are and do not assume because they are a none threatening yellow and do not smell spicy that they are in fact not spicy. This is a very bad idea. And do not, whatever you do, handle them with your bare hands. If for some reason you do this, and the peppers turn out to be habaneros, this is my advice.
Do not touch your eyes!
Have someone help you take the highest recommended dose of pain relievers immediately, you shouldn’t do it because you’ll spread the oils.
wash your hands in milk, vegetable oil, vodka, and rubbing alcohol, I don’t know if these things will actually help, but some people seem to think they will, and honestly you’re probably at the point right now where you’ll try just about anything. If you’re brave, some people also say a 1/5 bleach-water mixture will cut the oil. Do not use straight bleach as some people suggest. This is just plain stupid.
After this use aloe vera or an anti-bacterial ointment to help ward off possible infections due to weakened skin.
Finally, ice packs or ice-water baths will help cut the pain.
As you’ve probably guessed, I did something really stupid last night. Unfortunately I didn’t have the pain killers until a couple hours in, and I didn’t try the vodka (didn’t want to waste it). I don’t know if any of the other things actually helped, because the only thing that really took the pain away was cold, but they may have stopped the damage from continuing. My hands hurt with the most intense pain I’ve ever experienced anytime I wasn’t icing them for about 6 hours. I’m not sure how bad the pain would have gotten if I hadn’t had something cold to sooth them. At one point I tired to just let them go so that I could try to sleep. I was extremely tired, but after about 10 minutes the pain got so bad I was sobbing, and got up and pulled out a new icepack. Eventually I went to sleep with my left hand on a block of frozen spinach, my right had calmed down enough to not have to be iced. I woke up at one point from the pain and had to put my hand back on the spinach, but when I woke up in the morning my hands were only sour and ached at the tips. The searing pain was gone. At one point I actually considered going to the ER, but A) there’s nothing they could have done except give me pain killers, and B) it wouldn’t have been worth the money.
Music: Bubbly by Colbie Caillat (It’s been running and running through my head for days)
My very good friend and former roommate Abby recently posted about being intentional on her blog. I admire that, and I’ve thought alot about it too, have times when I feel like my blog is a bit useless, but intentionality in this matter is not for me. I’ve come to realize that it’s ok for my blog to be mediocre. It helps my family and friends keep up with me and it gives me a venue to tell my story. I do have a personal journal, but there’s something about sharing myself with others that creates a motivation that my private journal can’t generate. But I’m very excited to see what direction Abby’s blog goes.
I have been a ball of nerves lately. I’ve been anxious and distracted and worked up. I’m a terribly impatient person when it comes to life changes. And some big ones are coming up. We just found out today that we should finally be able to move next weekend. I unfortunately will be in Oregon, but the girls have been gracious enough to agree to move without me. Bless them. So at least I know now when it’s going to happen. That’s a start to me calming down. Now comes all the work of getting ready. I have been working some in the past few weeks, but there’s much much more to do. I can’t wait to be in the new condo! My own room! A deck!
If only moving was the only thing looming in my future. I haven’t written for a while. I’ve been avoiding myself in this medium. The me that comes out in this blog tends to talk about Mike, about my journey through a broken engagement and on to new hope. It’s all so good. Mike’s home and it’s been a blessing to be able to put my arms around him and look in his eyes and remember the ways I love his actual presence in my life. Things are serious. Things are happy and exciting and joyful. In equal measure there are times when things are terrifying and painful and uncertain. I keep thinking there’s going to be a breaking point, a time when the pairing of pain and pleasure break apart and I can move forward with joy and leave behind the anxiety. So the question that’s been rattling around is “should I be going so far down this path if it terrifies me this much?” And I know the answer is yes. I feel it even more strongly after talking with my pastor and hearing him encourage me to trust that answer. The “problem” is vulnerability. My grief bulks. But it is a necessary risk to take to be happy, being vulnerable.
I’m sure I sound like a broken record. I’m sure I’ve said all those things already somewhere in this blog. But the problem is that it doesn’t just go away. I guess I just have to trust that life has something better for me than repeated rejection.
And little by little it gets better and worse. Stronger grief paired with stronger faith. How easily pain mingles with pleasure.
I’ve been holding on so tightly to this part of my story. My pain, my betrayal. Because I’m young and it makes me feel more important. More valid. But slowly I’ve been turning it into just another part of the storyline. My past, not my present. So hopefully you won’t be hearing much more about it. For my sake if not yours.
