Pictures part 2

Pictures part 1

Obviously some of these pictures need to be cropped, but here are the originals. Tell me what you think!

Wedding miscellania

I haven't been updating about the wedding as often lately, mostly because there isn't a whole lot to report. Things are starting to come together, but there is still a long way to go. I'm offically 110 days away - it sounds like no time at all!

I received the estimate from my photographer. She signed me up for the cheapest package she has - $1,900. That DOUBLES my wedding budget. Seriously. I looked at my options, and I think I am going to ditch the package and just hire her a la carte - $200 per hour for three hours ($600), which comes with all of the proofs and all the photos on a CD. I'm going to get the coffee table book I want, which is probably another $150 - $200. It's worth it. After that, I think maybe one or two 8x10s ($35 matted and framed), and I'm good. Do I really need the $110 11x14? I just don't think I do. Not to mention that I can order and prints I want any time I want in any size I want AFTER the wedding.

I'm signing the rental contract this weekend and giving them the deposit my dad gave me. I'm also submitting some pictures I've taken to a photo contest. I will try to post them so you can tell me which ones you like best. Wish me luck!

~Amalia~

Essay Part 2

Bear brings a piece of suitable plywood into the house from the garage for the moldy floor. He draws the holes he needs to cut for the pipes and asks me to hold the plywood as he cuts the holes with the sawzall. Have you ever held something while it's being sawzalled? Let me tell you, it stinks. It felt like I was trying to hold a jackhammer by the tip. It takes about fifteen minutes to get the holes cut out and the plywood down. Bear puts the old faucet onto the pipes (minus the vanity) so he can check that there are no leaks.

boy, is there ever a leak!

Apparently while cutting the old vanity bottom away from the pipes, he knicked the cold water pipe with the sawzall. Water starts spraying all over the place, most of it landing on the freshly-dried subfloor. The plywood is wet now, too. Bear turns the water back off due to my screaming, and surveys the damage. No help for it, we will have to go back to Home Depot for some new pipes. We're tired and cranky, and I haven't showered since Friday night. Bear thinks if he turns on only the hot water, I can at least shower. He goes down stairs to turn on the hot, forgetting he has taken the old faucet back off the pipes, leaving open ends on both. I stare in horror as hot water geysers out of the hot water pipe and all over the floor. It takes two or three seconds to realize there's a bucket nearby. I scream even louder for him to turn the water back off. He does, but then turns it right back on again. Nearly hysterical because my bucket is almost full, I screech, stomp, holler and generally cause a ruckus until he hears me from the basement and shuts the water off for good. We decide we will both have to call in sick on Monday to get the project finished. One good thing does come from this - I now have water to use the toilet. Ahhh, sweet relief!

Monday's trip to Home Depot was for two flex pipes, two shutt-off connector valves, and some asprin. Total cost: $25.

The pipes go in well and everything is looking good - no more leaks in the pipes and the vanity slides in smoothly. There is still one more problem - the drain pipes don't match up. I question if this is a big problem, because the drain works, it's just under a bit of pressure. Bear calls his uncle that lives near by, who promises to come look at it Tuesday night. A new piece of flex pipe for the drain (total cost: $5), and we have a new sink.

It's beautiful, and looks terrific. But damn, what a pain in the ass!

How I Spent My Weekend - part 1

For a long while now, there has been a leak under the sink in the bathroom. I placed a cup under the leak and emptied it almost every day. It was a sizeable leak, but I certainly didn't know how to fix it, and it takes Bear quite a while to figure out that something is wrong enough to need fixing. So Saturday, we set out to Home Depot to buy a new J-pipe for the sink. We'd been experiencing a dip in water pressure, too, so we decided to buy a new faucet for the sink, too. Total cost: $40.
We get the new parts home and Bear goes into the bathroom to install them. He discovers that the wood bottom of the vanity is sagging and moldy from all of the water that escaped from the leak. Upon opening the box that the new faucet came in, he notices that a piece is broken and will have to be returned. He looks at me and says, "We really need a new vanity, hon. We can get it when we exchange the faucet." Sigh. Okay.
Sunday we take my car to Bangor (I have a station wagon big enough to fit the new vanity in). Back to Home Depot we go, this time to exchange the faucet, buy a vanity (complete with new sink), plumber's tape, silicon gel, putty, caulking, and a pack of gum (that's for me). Total cost: $180.
We get everything home, and Bear shuts off the water in the house so he can work. I forget to pee first, so I have to hold it. For several hours. He disconnects the pipes and we pull the old vanity out. Looking at the subfloor where the vanity used to sit, we see not only layer upon layer of slimy black mold, but mushrooms - actual mushrooms - growing. The smell of the mold and mildew is overpowering and for the first time, Bear and I realize this is much worse than we originally thought.
Bear and I had a pow wow at this point. What to do about the floor? Take the whole thing up? With what money? Will bleaching the hell out of it work? Can you sand subfloor? won't that put the mold into the air? In the end, we decide to bleach the floor and let it dry, then put a piece of plywood down to separate it from the new vanity once it is installed.


If only our troubles had ended there....

Overheard

When you are a teacher, you are expected to moniter hallways and lunchrooms. It never fails when I do this that I overhear some interesting things. A few of my favorites from this week:

"Mr. Page found my underwear in the hall. He asked if they were mine."

"Your pencil fell in that icky stuff."

"I'm not writing on the desk. I'm decorating the classroom."

"I'm not going to the dance. It's a waste of money. I'd rather spend it on alcohol."

"Nobody buys me booze - That's illegal. I steal it."

Keep in mind that I teach high school kids (that should explain at least the alcohol comments). What funny things have you overheard lately?

Vacation

I didn't post very much last week because I was on February vacation, so was not avoiding work by blogging. Rather, I was enjoying life and being able to sleep in each morning. I didn't do nothing over break (as I sometimes do), however:

I cleaned the entire house. I picked up, organized, dusted, rearranged, vacuumed, washed, dried, folded, neatened and threw away. It was exhausting, but the house looks so much better. It is amazing to me how little housework I do during the week. I think I did more than twenty loads of laundry. Once all of our clothes were clean, Bear and I realized that we didn't have enough room in our dressers for all of our clothes!

Monday the satellite guy came to hook up our new satellite dish (the real reason I felt I had to clean). I think Bear and I watched almost 24 consecutive hours of TV. It was awesome.

Saturday night my brother The Golden Child called me to tell me in a very round about fashion that his wife is pregnant. I'm going to be an aunt again! At least this will keep my parents off of my reproductive back for a while. I hope. I have some serious knitting to do before baby gets here (it's due around Thanksgiving).

Bear is still going through some mysterious illness. His doctor told him to go to the hospital if his pain got any worse. Thursday it did just that, so we went to the emergency room. Seven hours later, we know it is not a tumor, cancer, twisted bowel or a host of other things, but we do not know what his problem is. Bear got a CT scan while he was there. He had to drink this awful metallic contrast stuff for it. He did great (I know I couldn't have done it)! However the contrast was still in his system Friday when he was supposed to have his upper GI series done. They couldn't do it, so he had to take another morning off of work today to get it done. HOPEFULLY this will give us some answers.

I think the best part of this vacation is that Bear and I were able to spend some time together during the day. He took Monday off because he didn't feel well and the satellite guy was coming, and when he left we got to nap. You know that moment when you are cuddling in a sunny bedroom with the man you love and you hover just on the edge of sleep? The moment when you realize life can't possibly get any more perfect? We had one of those. I wrote a poem about that moment. Enjoy:

Breaths commingle,
Collide,
Become us,
Entangled, entwined.
Tandem breathing,
Out, then in
Like waves gone
Come back again.
Heart's pulse
Fingers trace,
Arms reach out,
Enfold, encase.
Bodies align
Chest, hip, knee
Sent safe into sleep -
You're here with me.

I'm aware that contemporary poetry doesn't rhyme, but Bear likes rhyming poetry and I wrote it for him.

~Amalia~

See? I told you I'd do it!

These are pictures of what my save the dates look like. The colors are a bit more vibrant than they appear here, but you get the point. Not bad for doing it myself, don't you think? Wedding gown pictures to follow!

~Amalia~

Pretty, and Witty, and ... Short!

I came across today that has posted an essay on the prevalence of "chick lit" in bookstores these days (read the essay here ). I thought it was really off base. So I posted a comment (read it at the bottom of the linked page). Did I make a valid point or do you disagree? What are your tohughts on the "chick lit" genre? I have Emily Giffin and Jennifer Weiner on my myspace friends list (I maintain that does NOT make me a loser or a groupie, damnit!), so I feel kind of defensive. I promise, if you think that the genre is contributing to the moral corruption of America, I won't call you an idiot. Out loud. I am interested, though. What do guys think about it? Have many guys read any of that stuff? Hmmm.


In other news, I talked to the photographer today and she says I can have the coffee table photo album book-thing that I want really bad. Yes!! I LOVE HER!

~Amalia~

PS

I know my posts have been long lately. I will post only short, witty ones for the rest of the week. I promise.

~Amalia~

Wedding Update # 3 (I think)

Finally, at long last, I have booked the rental vendor! I have decided on Brewer Equipment and Party Rental. It is about 100 miles away from where the wedding will be, but it is MUCH closer to me and they have a contract to sign! The guy my mom wanted to use close to her house had no contract - does that seem fishy to anyone else? If I put 50% down, I expect a guarantee that the items I want will be there! The place we chose has a pick-up-yourself option. My dad is going to pick up the stuff the Thursday before the wedding, and will bring it back the Monday after. That way I KNOW the stuff will be where it needs to be!

Plus, Brewer EPR has porta pottys! So Bear and I ordered a 20' by 40' canopy, sidewalls for two sides (all inclement weather comes in from the same direction), 100 chairs, 14 banquet tables and two porta potties for ...

are you ready for this? ...

$630!

Can you believe it? I am totally okay with that. The only fly in the ointment (if you can call it that) is that they only ask for 25% down. My parents are paying the deposit, so I kinda wish they had to put more of the total cost down. That's selfish of me, isn't it? Terribly. So sue me.

Here's where the total wedding list stands:

• Dress - check
• Rental Vendor - check
• Cake & cupcakes - check
• Photographer - 1/2 check (she will do it, but I haven't arranged anything final yet)
• Porta Pottys - check
• Bridal Party clothes - no check (I have to wait for spring fashions)
• Save-the-dates - check (going out today!)
• Invitations - 1/2 check (idea is set, still need supplies)
• Vases for tables - 1/2 check (my mom bought 10 blue ones. I have to find red ones)
• Florist - no check
• Vows & Officiant - no check

I think I'm doing quite well, all things said. If I could just do without all the "help", though, I'd be doing better. I realize that various family members have gone through this before, and they are trying to give me the benefit of their experience. I appreciate that. Really I do. But sometimes, I feel that people are trying to tell me how to do things THEIR way, instead of letting me do it mine. My mother is a good example of this. Mom, I love you, but seriously - I'm not a crazy person for wanting a contract! I don't CARE about the decorations on my cake! Honestly, do I have to look through twenty cake books?! Bear's sister suggested I get working on the invitations sooner than April vacation. If they go out the last week in April, that is eight weeks before the wedding! How much time do people need?

I realize that was a whole heap of exclamation marks. I apologize. I think I'm not good at the thanks-but-no-thanks aspect of wedding planning. I get frustrated by the avalanche of well-meaning pieces of advice. If I want or need help, I'll ask for it. Just be excited for me, okay? Please?

~Amalia~

Tipping the Scales

I'm not sure if today is a good day or a bad day, because a lot has happened on both sides of the fulcrum (notice the lever reference!) in the past twenty-four hours. Maybe you can make sense of it all, because my head is spinning.

1. I was told by another teacher yesterday that my principal "has the perception that [I] do nothing" each afternoon while I'm ed-teching. She has the assumption that because I'm not seeing students, I'm doing no work. Not true.
2. I was told by that same teacher that next year there will be two fewer English classes due to dropping enrollment. I teach three classes, so basically I'm probably going to be downsized next year. Back to the job hunt, anyone?
   
3. I got my save-the-dates printed last night (finally). They all came out great! I'm addressing them tonight and will save one to scan and show you.
4. After printing all of the save-the-dates, I realized I didn't put Bear's or my last name on them - I wonder if people will not know who it is from?
5. Bear has a deeply pulled pectoral muscle. This actually is a good thing, since he has been complaining of chest pains for two weeks. At least we know it is muscular and not heart-related.
6. We broke our bed last night. You know the frame that has the little wheels on it? Well, one of the wheels snapped off just as things were getting interesting, which of course broke the mood. Damnit!
7. I am reading a new book that so far I enjoy. It's called Keturah and Lord Death by Martine Leavitt. It's a YA novel with folk/fairy tale underpinnings. So far, so good.
   
8. The battery is going in my car. It's at least six years old, so that's not a huge deal, but this same car is also having some sort of exhaust crisis (I think the pipe is broken), not to mention the Great Tire Fiasco (my right front tire is bald due to a desperately needed alignment). The tire is only halfway through the warranty! Luckily, it shouldn't be too espensive to fix.
9. I still have not gotten either of my tax returns back yet.
   
10. I have an appointment on Saturday to meet with a rental vendor. If I like them, we're signing them, and Mom can deal with the fact that I'm not hiring someone local to her.
    
11. My spleen is still enlarged. It doesn't hurt, really, but it is uncomfortable when I am sitting. They took more blood on Wednesday, and the stupid, bovine, phlebotomist scraped a vein so it still kills TWO DAYS LATER!
    
12. I tried to make chocolate mousse yesterday using my magic bullet. The damn thing is so powerful that it OVER whipped the cream! It looked like it broke down the cream's chemical composition... what a mess.

So there you have it - twelve things that have happened in the last day or two. I could go on, but the bell just rang so I'm going home! See you all on Monday. If I get the save-the-dates scanned, I will post them. Ditto for the wedding dress pics.

~Amalia~

And Now, for the Rest of the Story

Do you remember that radio show? Some guy named Harvey something, or maybe something Harvey. I think it was Andy-Rooney-esque news commentary. I was too young when it was on to understand what he was talking about, but I always enjoyed the sound of his voice. It was much better than Andy Rooney's voice.

I went back to the doctor's yesterday - more blood drawn. I am so tired of giving away blood and not getting a t-shirt or even a fruit juice to show for it! On top of that, my voice is going AGAIN. I can't believe it. What a pain in the ass! I feel okay otherwise, but still. I'll be really glad when I beat this bug.

While I was in Bangor yesterday I got the groceries, per the usual Wednesday ritual. I dropped the car off at the Wal Mart service center because I had a leaky tire. Turns out they glued it on badly, and it had to be re-glued. That was free. I mention this because they noticed that another of my tires is almost completely bald. I have to get a new tire. DAMN! More money gone. I can't even get the new tire until I get a front-end alignment, as that is what made the tire bald. No wonder I've been sliding all over the road this winter!

Below is part three of the essay. It's all I have written. I'm not sure where to go from here - any ideas? What do you want to hear more about? Is it too much already? I think the whole How-Disney-Relates-To-My-Life analogy is muddy and needs to be clarified. What do you think?

~Amalia~

After two failed relationships, I returned to the stories of my childhood searching for answers. Where did I go wrong? I hadn’t waited for my prince; I’d gone out to find him. Granted, I was 0 for 2, but at least I wasn’t just waiting around in a tower somewhere singing sad sappy songs about dreams and wishes. I’d given up on the lie of “the One” and “happy ever after,” so what was the issue? I shut off Jiminy Cricket in the middle of his “When you Wish upon a Star” spiel, disgusted with myself and with every animated character who had found love by some fortuitous circumstance just in the nick of time.

I was twenty-four, a college grad with my own car and apartment, and I should have been happy. I was happy mostly; I had a job I enjoyed and was free from the strain of bad relationships that weren’t working no matter how many of my dreams I gave up. But sometimes, when I was trying to fall asleep on my twin bed mattress on the floor in an apartment too quiet, I did secretly wish for my own happy ever after. I knew that in real life my story wouldn’t follow the plot lines of Beauty and the Beast or Cinderella, but they were the stories I’d grown up on. I didn’t have much else to use as a basis for comparison. I’d try to picture what my prince would look like, if he ever did show up one day. He’d have messy hair, some crooked teeth, maybe, and a smile to melt my heart. I wanted him to be strong, as I was not a petite damsel (at 5’9” and 165 lbs, “petite” really wasn’t in my vocabulary). More than anything else, I wanted him to be warm. Body heat is nice, but that’s not what I was wishing for. Rather it was a personality trait, an inability to be mean and cold as the previous “princes” were. I wanted someone whose heart was warm. Disney princes were all six feet tall with perfect smiles and military bearings, but all I wanted was warm.

Did you ever take the online quiz, “Which Disney Princess Are You?” I did. The quiz asked several questions about what you like to do, what you thought about certain situations, etc. When you finished answering the questions, the quiz popped out the name of the princess you were most like. It turns out that if I were a Disney princess, I’d be Belle. That makes sense, considering I’m a brunette, I love books and am a total Daddy’s girl. It made me think, too – had I been dating beasts all these years in hopes of turning them back into princes?

It was at that point in my life that I met Paul. I logged on to myspace.com one night to message my brother (it was how we kept in touch), and there was a new message awaiting me. The picture was of a guy in a sweatshirt and a backwards baseball cap. He had a dimple in one cheek. The message said, “Hi, my name’s PJ. I saw your profile and thought you looked interesting. Message me sometime if you’d like to chat.” He gave his yahoo screen name and signed it, “Talk to you Soon, PJ.” Intrigued by the mix of forwardness and sweetness, I clicked on his photo to look at his profile. I was both pleased and disappointed with what I saw. About himself he had written that he loved the outdoors, photography, and camping (all terrific things). About his music interests, he’d written that he loved Godsmack, Shinedown, and other rock bands. That, to me, spelled trouble – either he was a rocker (read: did drugs and drank alcohol) or he had narrow minded views of “good” music. My own musical taste is incredibly varied. In his pictures he had photos of himself with his nephew (plus) and his female best friend (minus). He didn’t have too many friends (plus) but many of the friends he had were girls (minus). Too many friends meant stuck in high school days, too many girls as friends meant he was a player, or at the very least that he messaged girls randomly often (minus minus). I clicked back to his message, thinking. Should I message him back? Ignore him? He didn’t seem to be my type, but then how well had my type worked out in the past? In the end, I saved the message without replying. I’d think about it for a few days, make a decision later.

Over the next few days, my mind kept returning to Paul. I was flattered by his attention in me, but I was unsure whether or not he was someone I could have a conversation with. It was time to turn to Disney for help. When I got home from work one day three days after Paul had emailed me, I made a list of Disney princesses. Of those, I put a check next to any princess who took the prince that came into her path (instead of her going out to look for one). Belle? Check. Jasmine? Check. Aurora? Check. Snow White? Check. Pocahontas? Check. Cinderella? Hmm. Here I was stumped. She had gone out to the ball and had gone to some considerable trouble to get there, but the prince asked her to dance, not the other way around. In the end, I gave her a ½ check. It didn’t matter though, because every other princess had fallen in love with the prince who approached her, not the other way around. I sat back in my papa san, pondering this new information. I didn’t believe in happy ever after, I told myself, so this means nothing. But what if? What if there was some small kernel of truth to the stories of my childhood? Was I flouting fate to ignore it? In the end, I wasn’t brave enough to go against the grain in this instance. After all, Beast didn’t appear to be all that great when Belle met him, either, did he? And look how well that turned out! I was conveniently ignoring that I had likened my past boyfriends to Beast, too. I logged on to myspace.com, messaged Paul back and gave him my Yahoo screen name. Now all that was required was that I wait to see what would happen next. As I checked my other email and puttered around the internet, I cautioned myself that I was doing the very thing that I said years ago I would never do – using fairy tales and the Disney Empire to gauge a potential “prince.” Damn! It was harder that I thought to avoid comparing my life to those of the animated women of my childhood.

I had just about talked myself out of ever talking to Paul when he messaged me. Figuring I had to at least be polite long enough to explain how I’d only messaged him out of some vain hope that he was a Disney prince somehow magically come to life, I IMed him back. It wasn’t long before I forgot all about brushing him off, caught up in one of the most interesting conversations I’d ever had. Paul was funny, articulate, and best of all, he kept me guessing. I couldn’t tell what he was going to type next, a heretofore unheard of thing in my world. I was kept on my toes the entire conversation. I even blushed in a few spots, and I’d been blush-free for years. As much as I told myself that I didn’t believe in the whole Prince Charming nonsense, as much as I repeated over and over that there was no such thing as “happy ever after,” I have to admit that after that conversation with Paul, a tiny spark of something was lit within me. Maybe I wasn’t quite ready to let go of my hopes for a fairy tale after all.

Bear, the Bears, and Baring it

Bear was supposed to have his ultrasound today, but when he got to the hospital, they toldhim they had misscheduled him! They wanted to schedule him for March 4, but (understandably) he asked for something closer. His new appointment is on Wednesday - hopefully this time they won't fuck it up. It makes me so mad. He lost over an hour of work today and will miss more on Wednesday. Grrr! Does no one but me care that he's in pain?!?!

My Bears lost the Superbowl last night. I'm so depressed. I can't even say that Indy won it, because the Bears had a lot of great chances they didn't capitalize on and they made several stupid mistakes. They definitely LOST the game. The fist visit to the Superbowl in twenty-one years and they LOST it! I slept in my Urlacher jersey last night... you know how when you break up with a guy so you wear his clothes because it makes you feel both better and worse? That's what it was like. *sigh* Now there's no more football until September...

Below I am posting part two of my essay. The responses to the first part were favorable (thanks Sue and Shari), so I'm going to continue with it. I think the Disney metaphor gets a bit stretched here, but see what you think. It's just a draft, remember!

Also, if you get a chance, check out postsecret this week. There is a postcard about a wedding that sounds just like something my ex-best friend would have written. Can you guess which one it is?

~Amalia~

I was soon to learn that his looks were the only charming part about him. He was a master of the verbal put down, of condescension and derision. Truly, he was Gaston, Druesella, Anastasia and Millificent put together. Cocky and arrogant but also convinced of how wonderful he was. He convinced me after a while that I was lucky to have him, being the dowdy girl I was. It was four years before I came to the conclusion that while I didn’t have to have the love a Disney Princess was entitled to, I was in fact entitled to more than I was getting from Chad. My mother must have known that I was unhappy, because she pulled an act worthy of any fairy godmother. She didn’t create a chariot out of a pumpkin, but she did give me her old Jeep – a mechanism of rescue if ever there was one. With my own wheels I didn’t have to rely on Chad anymore for transportation to and from college, so it was easy to tell him to hit the road. Actually, I told him I was hitting the road, and that he wasn’t invited. I made sure to take all of my slippers (glass and otherwise) with me so there could be no second encounters.

Free for the first time as an adult, I told myself that I must be thankful for what lessons I had learned – the most important one being that there is no such thing as a one true love. Chad had told me that I would love him forever, and that we’d never be with anyone else - ever. Not just the rest of our lives, but forever. Three days after I broke up with him I discovered what a lie that was. Kurt was a short fling, a short scene after act two that was mostly just a pleasant distraction. He cemented this new idea I had that “happily ever after” existed only in Disney and had no place in my world.

At the start of my second year of college, I met Dan. I was very careful never to promise him forever or to say that he was “the One.” I know he was offended by that, but I knew better; I couldn’t just say words that weren’t true. Dan helped me realize what a bum deal Cinderella and Snow White got. Dan worked for the first fourteen months we were together. After that he developed a chronic medical condition that kept him from working. He couldn’t stand or sit very long comfortably, so he took a lot of pain killers and played video games for the next four years. As a senior in college, I was student teaching and working two jobs to pay the bills and keep him supplied in video games. I cooked, cleaned, washed his clothes and stayed out of his way when he was “having a bad day.” It never occurred to me to object, because how can you argue with someone who’s sick? I tried not to resent him for getting all of the meds and toys that he wanted while I was still wearing clothes from high school because I couldn’t afford anything new. Dan could be sweet, but he could also have black moods that would cast a pall over everything around. When Dan was upset, the whole sky seemed darker, and even the walls seemed to be holding their breaths, waiting for the inevitable explosion to come. I never asked to go to the ball, I wouldn’t dream of sticking up for myself like Cinderella did. I kept the house as clean as I could on eighty hour weeks, doing laundry and dishes whenever I had a spare moment, usually with a textbook or lesson plan in my hands. I definitely did not whistle while I worked like Snow White did. I swear all seven of the dwarves couldn’t have been more difficult than one Dan.

After five years of being the poor, underappreciated, misunderstood heroine I left Dan. I knew no one was going to rescue me, that I’d stay the maid/depressed maiden forever if I didn’t leave.

After two failed relationships, I returned to the stories of my childhood searching for answers. Where did I go wrong?

Labels and an Essay

I talk to my students from time to time about labels. The words they use to describe themselves and each other. There are obvious ones like jock and prep, but there are other ones, too. If you could only use three words to label yourself, what would you choose? What order do they come in? My labels have changed over the years, but right now they are: fiancé, teacher, and writer. Writer is a word that I almost don't type, because it is still a fragile label for me to be using. I've never been published, I probably never will be, and ... that's okay. In my mind, I see myself as someone who writes down words to express things. To me, that's a writer.
I find it interesting that I put fiancé before teacher, though. In my past relationships labels like student or teacher always came first. For the first time I'm seeing myself as a woman in love first, a person who works second. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

What labels do you give yourself? What things do you believe to be true about yourself? I am finding that as I age the things I believe about myself are changing. Being afraid of the dark remains a constant, but thinking I'm not worthy of being loved has changed. I used to think that I didn't care what people thought of me, but I am finding (thanks to Bear, who really doesn't), that I do. I always thought I hated my childhood home, that I'd never go back there. Now I'm gettied married in the landscape of that past.

I think it's time to post the first part of the essay I told you about a few weeks ago. The essay is about another childhood struggle - the reconciling between the Disney fairy tales I grew up on and the Real World. If you read it and like it and want me to post the rest, I will. I will assume if I hear nothing that it wasn't riveting reading and try again. I hope you enjoy.

~Amalia~

I am a child of the Disney generation, and as such I was fed fairy tales as often as I was fed red hot dogs, which was pretty often. I knew each Disney princess’ story by heart, could sing along with each young woman as she wished for books, legs, and the inevitable prince. It was always the prince that ruined the story for me. I’d watch the movie, entranced, until Aurora was caught dancing with the prince’s cloak and boots, Cinderella waltzed at the ball or Ariel bobbed in the water like a buoy gazing at the sailor that somehow was the man of her dreams. Even at seven years old, I knew there were precious few Prince Charmings. I’d ask my mom, “What happens to Sleeping Beauty if Prince Charming doesn’t show up?”

“She sleeps forever.”

“What happens if someone NOT charming kisses her? What if there’s a Duke Discourteous or Viscount Vapid?” (even at seven I had an impressive vocabulary). At my incessant and mildly offended questions, my mother would shake her head and say, “In fairy tales, that just doesn’t happen. There’s always a Prince Charming, and he always shows up when he’s supposed to.”

What a crock.

The truth, as I saw it, was that there were no more Prince Charmings. There were only boys that pulled your pigtails and pushed you off the merry-go-round while it was spinning so that you scraped your knees and ruined another pair of knee-high stockings. I decided that if I ever needed rescuing, I’d better do it myself, because if I waited for the perfect guy to come along and fix everything for me, I’d be waiting for a very long time.

When I grew older and began dating I knew not to look for Charming; I was content to settle for Doesn’t-Fart-in-Public. That’s when I met Chad. He had a bit of the Fairy-Tale-Prince look to him – dark complexion, big white teeth, perfectly coiffed hair. I was soon to learn that his looks were the only charming part about him.

Look at What I Made!

So I came across this web site yesterday that lets you use a photo of your own to create a romance novel cover. It was so much fun, I think I want someone to take a picture of us in one of the stereotypical romance-novel pose just so it will look like a real cover. What do you think? I think it looks good! I did it a couple of times... I think it looks fabulous.

5 Months and Counting!

Last night as I was showering, I realized that it was the 30th - exactly five months until the wedding! I was excited but a little nervous, too. Not nervous like cold feet, but nervous like I-can't-believe-how-much-there-is-still-to-do. I'm on my way, but I'm not quite finished yet. I was supposed to call the photographer in January and I haven't even done that yet! Where did the month go? I was under the impression that I had a couple weeks of January left. Not so. I had a momentary freak out. Luckily, the more I thought the more I realized I have come a long way since this summer, and I have ideas on a lot more. Several things are too far away to worry about right now (invitations, for example), and several more are figured out, I just have to DO them. By the time I'd rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, I was feeling much better and even a little bit excited. It really is going to be an awesome day.

I tried to do my dave-the-dates last night but I can't install my printer software on my school laptop and my home laptop doesn't have MS Publisher. I brought the cardstock to school and will attempt to print them out here. I'll let you know how that goes.


~Amalia~

PS I found the pic of me in my wedding dress. I'm hoping to get another one this weekend, in order to see if I can tell the difference - I've lost 16 pounds since I las had it on! Wish me luck...

I Guess I'm It

Several days ago I was tagged by Shari. The tag meant I had to write a top ten list that described my style. It has taken me quite a while to get to this list, but here it is:

1. Casual. I've never been a fan of frou-frou clothing. With me, comfort is everything. As a teacher I am held to a certain standard of dress, but I make it as relaxed as I can within the confines of my contract. For example, today I am wearing my sneakers, plain khaki pants with the cuffs turned up once (they are talls, and are just long enough with heels), a pink v-neck shirt and a grey zippered hoodie I got for Christmas. The hoodie is because I live in Maine and it is always cold in my school building in the winter. I don't bare my arms or legs for months.

2. Straightforward. This one I can blame on my father. He has always said the true-but-unpopular thoughts that no one would say. When asked if he wants a funeral after his death, his reply was, "Hell no! I can't stand any of those assholes while I'm alive, I won't stand any of those assholes when I die!" While I try to be a little more tactful than that, I am nearly as plain spoken as he is. If someone asks me my opinion, I give it to them. If I see something wrong or ignorant or mean, I speak up. I am upfront and honest about myself and what makes me laugh (people falling down is hilarious to me). People can be offended by my words, and that's okay, too. My conscience is clear.

3. Inquisitive. I am a lifelong learner. I believe in learning as much as you can about anything. I love the Discovery and Learning Channels, because they are full of useful bits of information. For example, did you know that snakes have two penises? That blonde hair and blue eyes are recessive genes? I do. I still have a lot to learn - I'm three grad classes away from my master's degree in Secondary Literacy Education. I also wonder about the bigger questions in life: Do animals that hibernate still urinate and defecate on a normal basis? If so, do they wake up to go? Do they just go right where they are? Wouldn't that get messy? If they don't pee every day, won't bacteria grow and give them bladder infections? If they do wake up, is it really hibernation?

4. Funny. I'm funny, damnit! I couldn't do stand up or have my own t.v. show, but sometimes I come up with very funny comebacks and one-liners. I can think up a sexual innuendo for almost anything, and I have a terrific sense of what is funny. I laugh a lot, and I like to think I cause others to laugh, too. Hopefully not at me.

5. Stubborn. This comes to my from my grandmother. She is the most stubborn person I know. She is 91 and still lives on her own. She still likes to garden when she can and even though she can barely walk, still makes sure that her home is shipshape. When I was small, my favorite words were, "I can do it myself," even when I couldn't. I still say these words because they're still true. I can do it myself, I will do it myself, and I don't need anyone's help. Even when I do.

6. Devoted. When I find something I love, be it a man, an author, a t.v. show, or a hobby, I go after it full force. I stick with that thing (sometimes too long) because I believe that's what you do. If it's a man, I care for him even when it keeps me from doing some of the things I love. I believe wholeheartedly in him and will encourage and support him with everything I am. If, later, it turns out that my devotion was misplaced... well, at least I never feel like I didn't give it my all. If it's a t.v. show or an author, I learn all of the important background, watch every episode or read every book, and wait (years, sometimes) for the next one to come out. Did you hear they are making a Dark Crystal 2? If it's a hobby, I learn all I can about it, do everything related to it at least once, and try to excell at whatever it is. I use the hobby to make gifts for other to prove the value and beauty of this new hobby, too.

7. Happy. Even though I love to complain and can be quite cynnical and sarcastic at times, my persona is generally happy. I believe life is worth living and that beauty, if you look for it, is everywhere. I enjoy life and all it has to offer. I like to think that other people do, too.

8. Simple. This relates to casual and straightforward in a way, but I think simple is more than just clothing or speech - it's a philosophy. I love simplicity in all areas of life. Relationships, decorating, clothes, stereo instructions... To me, simple = good. I don't play games or unnecessarily complicate matters; you could say I'm low maintenence in that regard. I like simple things like honesty, nature, sunshine, peace. The simple things are what I am about.

9. Creative. I adore making things and thinking of things. I like to find a unique solution to a problem, to see something in a way no one else has. I knit, I sew, I even color on occasion. I try to be as much of an original as I can; I don't like to do something just because that is the way it's always been done.

10. Selfish. It's okay, I can admit it. I have to be the center of attention all the time. I hate it when someone or something detracts from people paying attention to me. This is why I'm never having children; I don't want to resent them for getting attention I feel should be directed on me. As a teacher, the focus of fifteen pairs of eyes is me; I'm the one they go to with questions, comments, etc. I love being thought of as someone who has the answers, someone who you can go to when you need help or just conversation. I want to be the one that's picked, the one that gets the accolades. Maybe it's because I'm the youngest of six, but to me attention means that I'm special. That I'M the one that deserves to be recognized.

If I were to go beyond ten things, I'd add words like competitive, unforgiving, determined, deep, and maybe fair, too. What's your style? I want to know!

~Amalia~

Hallelujah!

I FEEL BETTER!!!!!!

Usually I wouldn't use so many exclamation points, but for the first time in what seems like eons, I feel like my old self. Better, actually. I've been tired since at least Thanksgiving; I can't remember the time I got home and had any energy left over. Usually I crash on the couch until dinner, eat dinner, then crash on the couch again until it's time for shower and bed. I often get sleepy on the drive home and sometimes have to stop the car, get out, and run around it a time or two to wake back up.
But yesterday - oh, man!

I drove home in a fairly happy mood because Bear was home before me. He had left work early because he wasn't feeling well and wanted to try to get into the dr.'s office even without his file. He couldn't, but the hospital called - they'd found his file! So he ended up driving to Millinocket, getting his file, and making a dr.'s appointment for today at 2:00. By then most of the day was shot, so he took the rest of the day off. But I digress.

When I got home, Bear and I cuddled on the couch. He is very nuzzle-y when he's not feeling well, and since I LOVE that, I was right there beside him. But strangely, I really didn't want to stay on the couch. I had ENERGY! I actualy wriggled. Eventually I had to get up. I went into the kitchen and washed the dishes! When I was done that monumental task, Bear said he wanted some juice, so we went to the store a few miles down the road and got him one. Then we drove around town looking for deer. Deer infiltrate Brownville each winter. We saw ten deer in different places in town, then drove home. On a normal night, it would be enough to exhaust me, but I didn't even sit down - I started making dinner! After a hearty dinner of Hamburger Helper lasagna, I decided to make COOKIES! From scratch. Nestlé Toll House cookies, here I came! They were super good. The dough was the best part so I had several spoonfulls of that, too. After cookies my favorite shows came on - How I Met your Mother, The Class, and Two and a Half Men. Mother was an episode we hadn't seen, so we watched that, but The Class was a repeat. I wanted to go do my save the dates, but it was getting late, so I didn't. I DID, however, watch the eight-minute preview of Cinderella 3 on my computer. It looks really good! Then we showered and went to bed as usual (after Two and a Half Men, of course).

I know that my night sounds sorta boring. But for me, that was a jam-packed evening! I fell right to sleep last night but I don't feel utterly drained today. I'm really hoping that the mono is leaving my body and I am recovering from the exhaustion that came with it. I'm cautiously optomistic that this energy flow will last and I will continue to feel as amazing as I've felt yesterday and today.

HOORAY!

~Amalia~

PS I should probably add a disclaimer here that I have no idea who the guy in the photo is. He just showed up when I typed "hallelujah" into Google Images. ;)

Caring For Bear

Poor Bear. Just as I am beginning to feel better, he begins to feel worse. In the last two weeks we have been to the hospital twice and the walk in care once. He is suffering from some sort of internal issue; we're not sure if it is stomach, intestine, or gall bladder related. He can't go see a regular doctor because he doesn't HAVE one right now. How is this possible? It's a long story, but here's the jist:

• Bear's regular doctor retired about five years ago.
  
• His files are shipped to a new doc (Dr. Dunston).
• Bear NEVER sees Dr. Dunston. Seriously - he doesn't go to a doctor for almost five years.
• Bear goes to the hospital for what we think is Lyme Disease. Decides to get a real doctor closer to home.
• Tries to get in to Milo Family Practice. They won't see him without his medical files.
• Bear calls Dr. Dunston's office. They say they will send his records.
• Weeks go by.
• Bear tries at Milo FP again. Still no records.
• He calls Dr. Dunston's office. THEY DON'T HAVE HIS FILE!
• Dunston's office says the hospital may have his records; if not, they have been THROWN OUT!
• Bear goes to hopsital for stomach issue, as he STILL cannot be seen by Milo FP.
  

Is that not the stupidest thing ever? How can they just throw out someone's file like that? It isn't like he's old and therefore probably dead - he's 23!! Shouldn't they have at least CHECKED to see if he was still alive or would possibly need his entire medical history?! It makes me so mad, especially because there is something really wrong with him, and he isn't getting any help for it. All the hospital does is draw blood. He needs a regular doctor to check him over, test his gall bladder, maybe get a CT or an ultrasound. SOMETHING!

Can you tell I'm frustrated?

That's what we've been dealing with this week... Friday we head to my parents' house for the annual Home Show in Augusta. Plus we will be dining at Country Farms restaurant, the best restaurant I've ever been to. Baked haddock with cheddar and bacon, here I come!

~Amalia~

PS Watch in your mail for save-the-dates. I'm printing them tonight, so they should be mailed out this weekend! I will scan one in to show you once they're done.

TGIF

I'm so glad today is Friday. I am beginning to think that five-day workweeks are just one day too long. Bear and I both went home early yesterday as we were feeling like crap, and slept most of the afternoon away. Of course, we felt guilty for doing that so we are both at work today. It isn't so bad for me, but this is the coldest day of the whole winter and Bear works outside for half of the day. Poor guy. I am feeling a bit better today, and my voice is coming back FINALLY. I sounded like a suffocating bullfrog for FOUR DAYS! I've never lost my voice this long before. It sucked. I was trying to discuss the finer points of To Kill a Mockingbird, but had to push so hard to get my voice out that I was exhausted by lunch. Today finally wasn't as bad. Actually overall, I feel pretty perky today... except for my kidneys. My back hurts today, and is growing slowly worse. I was hoping that it was just menstrual cramps, but I don't think that's what it is. I'm pretty sure it's my kidneys. I'm going to have to call my doctor because I don't remember ever hearing that Mono made your kidneys hurt. Spleen, yes. Kidneys, no.

Seriously - will I EVER feel totally better again?!

Aside from all of my recent health issues (which I'm sure you're sick of reading about by now), life is pretty good. My tax return this year is about $1,200; last year I had to pay in over $600 (I had to pay taxes on my Wheel of Fortune money). Bear and I are using the money for we wedding, so we can start paying the deposits and things that we need to reserve the vendors and equipment. I wanted to file electronically, but the stupid IRS won't let me until the first week of February because of some glitch that only affects teachers. GRRR. Oh well. I should still have my refund before Valentine's Day. Thank you, Turbo Tax!

That's all I've got for today... I hope people are visiting the blogs in my favorites list. Sue of Brite Hope has a hilarious story involving children, a cat, and a tub of Vick's Vapo-Rub. If you'd like me to link to your blog, leave me a comment and I'll check you (err, I mean your BLOG) out!

~Amalia~

Diagnosis

It took two calls to my doctor, but I am finally diagnosed with an actual illness. I have the Epstein-Barr Virus (EBV). It causes Mono. Basically, I have Mono. When she told me this, it answered so many questions about why I am so tired, why my neck was swollen (it lives in the lymph nodes and salivary glands), why I keep getting the chills, why my face is so often hot (low grade fever). Unfortunately, it also means there is no treatment. You can't take anything for a virus - you just have to wait it out. I was looking at WebMD about EBV, and it says that some people carry the virus their whole lives and never get sick, while others carry it and it "flairs up" from time to time. I think I fall into this second category. I think when I first got sick a year and a half ago, that was what was wrong with me. I think this is just another flair up. So, I am to drink lots of fluids, rest as much as I can, and avoid hitting my spleen. The virus can cause symptoms for several weeks, but the exhaustion can last months. I'm not looking forward to that!!

In other news, my FABULOUS mother (an adjective I've never used for her before) has booked Bear and me three fabulous nights at the Holland Inn! I couldn't believe that she offered to do that, but was very excited that she did. She paid the deposit, and Bear and I will pay the rest with the money we get from the wedding. We even got the best room in the place (Ship Harbor!) WOO HOO! That was a big thing checked off the list. I'm very relieved.


Also: Bear has given me the okay to create the invitations that I want to! They are super cute and have his fingerprint and mine on the outide. I'll scan one when I get them done and post it here. It's super cute! The only catch is that I have to have the vendor and porta potty companies booked in the next three weeks and have an estimate from the photographer. NO PROBLEM! I'm hoping to view the rental place on Feb. 4, and if I like it, then I will sign the contract then. Mom and Dad are paying the deposit, so no worries there. After that I just have to get a florist and some estimates from them! I'm not having a lot of flowers done by the florist - just the bridal bouquet and bouttenires (I know that is misspelled) for the guys. I'm not tossing my bouquet, so that's not an issue, and the flowers we are using on the tables will be in bloom on our property (so they are free!). I finally feel like things are coming together... yeay!

~Amalia~

It's like a Greek Chorus

Many people have been blogging about how sick they or their family members are right now. I hate to add to the cacophony of that, but since I have a somewhat unique story, I hope you will bear with me as I do it anyway.

If you are a close friend or family member, you will know that I have been battling a mysterious illness for about a year and a half now. This illness manifests itself in achy, swollen lymph nodes. Sounds tame, I know, and for the most part it is, but it keeps coming back and my doctor has no idea what it is. When the swelling starts and I get uncomfortable, I head to the doctor's, she writes me a prescription for an antibiotic and sends me on my way. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn't. The swelling will eventually go away, but it inevitably comes back again.

I've been to the doctor about my neck three times this school year. This latest time I went in, complaining of pain in the left side of my throat when I swallowed. I figured it was an infected tonsil or something similar. My doctor felt my neck and said, "hmmm, I can't seem to feel any real swelling." She must have seen the twin expressions of disbelief and frustration on my face, because she added, "But let's test you for Mono just to be sure." Thinking that Mono could certainly explain how tired I've been, I agreed.
I called the office on the following Tuesday (they were closed for MLK day), and found out that the mono test was negative. They put me on an antibiotic and told me to come back on the coming Friday. She said I'd have an ultrasound to look at my neck.
At this point I have spent $25 in copays and meds. That is one gas fill up for my car - I'm breaking my budget, and it does NOT make me happy.
Friday comes at long last and with it comes a snow storm. I drive the 50 miles to my Dr's office. It takes me about an hour and a half. I hate driving in the snow, so I'm in a pretty ugly mood when I pull into the driveway. When I get there and get in to the doctor, she feels my glands again, asks me what the mono test results were (shouldn't she know??), and says it's too soon to say if the antibiotics are working or not. She does not do the ultrasound on my neck and orders SIX more blood tests. Basically, she has no idea what is wrong with me. The tests were for the following:
1. A virus present at the onset of Mono (but not Mono)
2. Another virus present at the onset of Mono (but not Mono)
3. My Thyroid
4. My Liver
5. A CBC (I dont' know what that tests, but I think it's pretty broad spectrum)
6. HIV.

That's right, she is so out of ideas, she is even testing me for HIV. She was adamant that she didn't think I have it, but wanted "to be safe." Okay, fine, whatever, I don't care. Super.

So I go over to the lab place to get my blood drawn. They take one look at the orders and stop. "Did you sign a consent form for the HIV test?"
"Ummm... no, but she asked me if it was okay to test for it and I said yes."
"That's not enough. We can't test you for that today. You need to sign the form and come back."
"Well, can I get the other five done and come back later?"
"Sure." They take me back to the room and draw five vials of blood. After I leave, I call my doctor's office. They have no form, didn't know I needed a form, can't give me a form to sign. They recommend that I go to the Bangor STD Clinic for this test.

WHAT?!

Whatever. At this point, I am seriously pissed, irritated, and embarassed. Why this test has to be such a pain, I don't know. When I get to the clinic, I almost walk back out again. It is dark and dingy with an atmosphere of squalor. I don't belong here, I think to myself. I am college educated, in a monogamous relationship who has never behaved in a risky or unsafe manor. AFter asking three different women for assistance (and having to explain what I was doing there three separate times), I get to where I need to go. This enormous black woman with an almost noncoherent accent proceeds to ask me a series of embarassing questions:
1. Have you had sex with an infected person? (yes, I try to make a habit of that)
2. What will you do if the test comes back positive? (crawl into a hole and die of embarassment and shame. That IS what you want to hear, isn't it?)
3. Have you had unproteced sex with a partner? (I'm on the pill. I'm guessing you don't count that).
4. Vaginal, Oral, or Anal? (Are you SERIOUSLY asking me that?!?!?)
5. With a male or a female? (?!?!?)

There are a host of other embarassing questions. This woman has basically made me feel dirty, ashamed, embarassed and guilty. I tried to explain why I was there, that I don't have HIV, that this was just a test for testing's sake. She looked at me like I was lying.

I am NEVER going back there again.

Not to mention that the test cost $25, which was another car fillup. Add the $15 of the second dr's visit copay, and I have completely and totally blown my budget.

I called this morning to get my results, and was told, "Yep, I put them on her desk. She will probably be calling you later."

Another day, another non-answer. *sigh*

~Amalia~

Tired!

Some days, for no apparent reason, I am soooo tired. Today, for example, I am stuggling to stay awake until the end of the day. All I want to do is take a nap. Impossible, as I have about a thousand papers to grade by Thursday afternoon and my budget is due ASAP, too. Not to mention, Bear and I have to go to Bangor tonight to get groceries. I don't have mono (they tested me for that last Friday), so what gives?

I think I'm a person who needs more sleep than most. Ideally I like about nine hours. During the week, however, I average between six and seven. 3 pm is my prime nap time (my body just kind of shuts down about that time), but I am driving the forty miles to my house then and can't just pull over to sleep.

It's very frustrating.

So I wonder if there is anything that can be done to wake a sleepyhead up? I don't eat too many carbs at lunch, I dislike coffee, I'm staying away from soda so I can lose weight... what can I do? I need some help on this one. It's too cold to take a walk outside, too - it was -8 degrees this morning when I got out of bed and isn't supposed to reach double digits today at all. Too cold to be outside, don't you agree?

... And now for something completely different....

Have you heard of page-a-day calendars? They have an online version that you can pick up for free. Go to their website here and click on the "contests" tab. Answer three trivia questions right and you can get a free calendar! I have two - Stitch 'n' Bitch and Why do Men Have Nipples?. You can even get them emailed to you daily if you like. I recommend the Bad Cat calendar - I had it last year and it is very funny. Let me know what you think!

~Amalia~

Traffic

I have been receiving some increased traffic on my blog, and it is tremendous! I've gone from only one reader to several regulars, with the odd person popping in off of a Google search. I only hope that I haven't been disappointing. I'm thinking about sharing an essay I've started, but I'm unsure if I should as it is long and isn't finished yet. After the class I took this summer (read about the program here), I consider myself to be a writer, but I haven't written much other than this blog, a poem here and there, and this essay. Nothing I've written has ever been published (not that I've tried). I guess you could say I'm dealing with the normal feelings of insecurity.

On a more positive side, I've been linked! Clare of Three Beautiful Things has added me to the list of people that have done what she has (blog about three beautiful things she has seen that day). Hooray! It's the first instance I've seen of someone providing a link to my blog. I have updated the list of my favorite blogs so you can see who I've been reading lately.

New Entries:
Jennifer Estep
Roughly Speaking
Literally Blind-Sided
Dear Douchebag

I have also noticed that some of the blogs that have been in my favorites for a while are getting cross traffic. People linking to their blogs via the link on mine. Hooray! It's like a college dorm here on the internet, everyone's doors open and people poking their heads in.

~Amalia~

PS I AM going to do the save the dates - I just need to buy cardstock and postcard envelopes. The design is all done. Guess what Bear said - "Can you make all of the invitations look exactly like that?" Who does he think I am, Wonder Woman (or Martha Stewart)?!

On the Pot

I think I do my best thinking when I'm in the bathroom. Becomming lactose intolerant as an adult has meant that I spend a lot of time in there. If I don't bring something to read (hard to do subtley when surrounded by staff and students), I just think. Today I was thinking about save-the-dates. You know, the little card you get months before the invitation that tells you to keep a certain date free? Originally I didn't think I'd need them. For one, I think they're pretentious (everyone I'm inviting already knows when the date is, for pity's sake!), and for another, I'm limited in funds (read: broke). But the more I think about it, the more a save-the-date notice looks appealing. I am getting married the weekend before the fourth of July, at least ten people are going to be flying in from out of state, and it's a busy time of year for a lot of people. I was thinking (while on the toilet) that if I just bought some cardstock and printed like 4 postcards per sheet I could make some pretty cheap notices. Are there any software programs I could use for neat logos and print options? I don't know if MSWord would do a good enough job. On one side I could have the family's address, and on the other the save the date info as well as a list of hotels in the area (maybe with phone numbers). If it was okay with mom, I could also put my phone number and hers on their in case people have housing questions. See, usually anyone that visits stays with my mom or my grandmother, but if everyone who does that is in the same place at the same time, we will run out of beds. I think Bear and I will be staying in our tent just to make room for people. No word yet on whether or not our wedding night will be spent in the tent, too. God, I hope not!

I guess I'm going to put the idea out to my wonderful readers - what do you think? Should I do the save-the-dates or not? What do you think when you get one in the mail? Are you pleased or mildly irritated (or worse)? Help!

~Amalia~

Check this Out!

http://www.jenniferestep.com/karmaChapt1.php

I was wandering around the internet today and came across this story. I LOVED it, even though it was about a failed wedding. it has just the right amount of humor in it. And I suppose if you're going to discover a cheating fiancé, that's one way to do it. Read it and tell me what you think! I wish I know who wrote it...


~Amalia~

It's that time again!

BRIDAL SHOW TIME! I'm getting excited. There is a bridal show in Bangor this weekend and I'm going. I wouldn't have if I hadn't won tickets from the radio station, but I did, so I'm going. I am hoping to talk to florists and rental companies, and compete in American Bridal Idol. What is that, you ask? It's like American Idol (or any karaoke contest, really) where brides sing a song for about a minute and a half, and are judged by employees of the local jewelry store that sponsors the contest. Winners get jewelry worth as much as $200! Last July I went to my first bridal show and won third place in Idol, fetching me a $75 pair of sterling silver hoop earrings with ruby posts. Bridal shows are addicting. Every vendor kisses your butt, pretending to care about your event details in the hopes that you will hire them and they can make money. It's impossible not to feel special after an afternoon of butt kissing. They have hourly door prizes and if you are one of the first brides at a particular booth, you can win even more free stuff! They have samples of cake and other foods, goodie bags, gift certificates and one bride will win a free honeymoon cruise! It is worth going, I swear. You enter to win a bunch of stuff so that vendors can get your mailing address. Last time my arm got tired from filling out so many forms, so this time I'm going to be smart and will bring address labels.

I will write all about it next Monday. I am also hoping to get up some pictures of the afore-mentioned bookcase so you can see what an awesome job Bear did on it. Blogs are better with pictures, don't you agree? What do you want pics of? I'll put up what I can.

~Amalia~

Monday Again...

It's Monday again. I don't really like Mondays. I'm tired from the weekend, my students are sluggish and dull, and I have four more days after this one until I can have another weekend. It snowed last night, which was fabulous, but the roads were shit for the drive in. Now it is raining, which promises to make the roads even worse for the drive home. Mondays suck.

On top of that, I can't find my purse. I thought I brought it home with me Friday, but couldn't find it. So I assumed that I left it at school. Not the case, it turns out - my purse is not here. So now what do I do? I keep looking, I guess. It's just so frustrating! My mind has been so absent lately it's starting to freak me out. I lost my purse, I never know where my cell phone is, and Saturday I bought some things at Wal Mart, but by bedtime couldn't remember if I had brought the bag in from the car or even left the store with it. That memory was just GONE. How is that possible?

It's been a while since I updated on my weight struggles. The reason? I'm still at 174. I haven't lost any weight in weeks, except for the three pounds I put on during vacation. It's time for more drastic measures. I think it's time for exercise. Now let me say here that when I was living in the thriving metropolis of Bangor, I went to the gym semi-regularly. My favorite machine was the elliptical machine. I could stay on that thing for a half an hour easy - it was fun, I worked hard, life was good. Now I live 40 miles from the nearest gym. Is it any wonder my weight is an issue? Now if I want exercise, I have to go outside. In the cold. ick. I suppose I could do work like chopping wood or shoveling snow, but what muscle groups do those work? In the gym, I have a handy-dandy picture on every machine that tells me which muscles are getting sexy and which are waiting for their turn. Shoveling snow is anyone's guess.
However, this weekend brought home to me just how far I have to go still. Bear and I spent the entire weekend with our friends Blondie and Snake (not their real names). Blondie does all the things that I wish I could do but am not allowed to - she jumps on her boyfriend and he catches her, Snake and Bear pick her up and toss her onto bookcases or over puddles. Blondie is 5'3" and maybe 120 pounds soaking wet. I'm 5'9" and 174 pounds completely naked (not even a hair elastic to inflate the weight). While I acknowledge that I have never been a small woman and will never shop in the petite section, I still harbor young girl fantasies of hanving a string virile man that can lift me as though I weigh nothing. Blondie, it appears, get to live my fantasies due to genetics and a few too many whoopie pies on my part. I admit it - I was jealous. Every time she got picked up or carried somewhere, I felt fat. I felt gigantic. I loomed. This is bad, because I was actually thinking that I had improved my self esteem with the 16 pounds I have lost since this summer. All that goodness flew away like Blondie's feet through the air. The worst part was that Bear was in on the lifting and carrying. Bear and Snake spent much of the weekend building me a nice sturdy bookcase (my old was was toppling down). When finished, the bookcase was tested with Blondie - they sat her on top of it, lifting her four feet into the air to set her upon it. She perched there, no problem, grinning. Snake must have seen something in my expression, because he asked me doubtfully, "do you want us to try to set you up there, too?" What was I supposed to say? Yes, but I want you to do it as effortlessly as you did with Blondie? I'm not crazy, I know that's not possible. So I smiled, replying, "no thanks, I won't subject you to that." Bear said, "Good, because the bookcase is strong, but I dont' think it's that strong." I know that in NO WAY did he mean for that to be a negative comment about my weight. He was literally thinking about the stress 180 pounds would put on 3/4" plywood. Still, it was not very much fun to hear.
So this brings me back to exercise. I am eating less food due to some mysterious lack of hunger pangs, but I'm still not losing weight. I've noticed that I've been eating less for at least two weeks now. Surely my body should have started eating it's fat reserves by now? Since the scale isn't budging, I guess I will have to. Walking sounds fairly easy - I will have to try that. But when? It gets dark shortly after I get home, the weather is always crappy, and I leave for work only 20 minutes after waking up. I have a recumbant bike in my living room, but I can't see the t.v. from there and it hurts my but bones to sit on for any length of time. What other options do I have? I tried using sex as an aerobic activity, but it's more difficult that you'd think to get your thirty minutes a day. It is the only one I don't have an excuse for, though. Hmmm...

~Amalia~

On Writing

Bear and I both have blogs. If you've clicked on his link to the left, you've no doubt noticed that he doesn't update very often. Of course, he isn't able to blog while he should be working, as I am. You'll also notice if you've read his blog, that he writes terrifically well, and he often writes wonderful things about me (or us). That is where the idea for this blog came from, actually, as I wanted a place where I could do the same. I am guilty of the cardinal sin of most bloggers, however; I mostly blog about me. I'm kind of ashamed of how much I enjoy writing about myself. But really, when you think about it, what do I know more about?

Nothing.

So I write about myself, I write about Bear, I write about our wedding and our lives. I write when pets pass away (I've written about Inigo, but I have yet to tell you about Minnie), and I write when I am frustrated by people in my life. All of these communications are housed in that nebulous world of cyperspace, where anyone can read it, any time.

That's the rub, really.

As much as I am an oversharer (Sue, you already know this about me), I do have my limits. I have a difficult time putting my vulnerable side out there for all of the world to see. I have a complete inability to discuss my weaknesses (especially in my relationship). I pride myself on my together-ness, my fiercely independent-ness, my I'd-be-fine-without-him-ness. The truth, however, is something less than that. I'm don't say that I couldn't physically live without Bear, but I never admit that I wouldn't want to, either. I shy away from superlatives like "forever," "the rest of our lives," and "never loved like this before." I think I have mentioned before that I don't believe in The One, that I think people can have happy, fullfilling relationships with any number of people on the planet. What I haven't mentioned before is that if there IS a One, Bear must be it. Something in me HATES risking my neck by saying that, hates putting myself out there in print where anyone can call me out if things change.

Maybe that's my problem. I spend too much time thinking thoughts like, "Well, IF we DID break up, what would happen?" It's like I always have to have a mental escape route planned, no matter where I am. I have NO intention of breaking up with Bear - he is the most wonderful man I know (okay, he's tied with my dad, but dads don't count). So why did I have to think to myself last week, "I know we got a box big enough to store all of our Christmas decorations, but if we break up it would be too difficult to have to dig out the Christmas box and sort mine from his. I'd better keep mine in a separate box."

This has got to stop! It's like there are two sides of me: the optomistic, loving version of me that is happy and plans on staying that way, and the cynnical, scarred version of me that always wants to be ready to cut and run. If I were to name them, which would be creepy and weird, they would be Misty (optomist) and Cyndi (cynnical). When I had the thought about the decorations, I had to sit Misty and Cyndi down for an intervention.

My inner dialogue went something like this.

Cyndi: I know we got a box big enough to store all of our Christmas decorations, but if we break up it would be too difficult to have to dig out the Christmas box and sort ours from his. We'd better keep ours in a separate box.
Misty: Are we planning on breaking up with him?
Cyndi: No, but just in case. You know.
Misty: No, actually I don't. Just in case of what?
Cyndi: Just in case we BREAK UP, in case something awful happens and it's time to bail out!
Misty: That's a terrible, negative thought! Bail out?! Why are we marrying this guy, anyway?
Cyndi: Because he's perfect.
Misty: And you have some sort of problem with perfection?
Cyndi: No, I just want to be on the safe side. If the worst were to happen, it would be too tough to stick around. Better to be able to run quickly, and have a clean break.
Misty: Oh, so you're afraid of getting hurt?
Cyndi: Isn't everyone? Have you forgotten the last yahoo we were ready to marry? We thought he was great in the beginning, but he turned out to be a complete dink, didn't he?
Misty: You're right, he was, but this guy is nothing like him. NOTHING.
Cyndi: Okay, I see your point. Still, isn't it better to be safe than sorry? Who does it hurt to be prepared?
Misty: It hurts Bear. You know he's noticed you. Every time you show up he gets hurt!
Cyndi: Yeah, I guess you're right. But doesn't he have one of me in his head, too?
Misty: No, Cyn. He has someone else - Faith.
Cyndi: Faith?
Misty: Yeah, Faith. She tells him that this time, things will be different. That they are different. That if he believes, jumps in with both feet, he will be rewarded with the greatest love of his life. One that won't hurt him and won't run away.
Cyndi: I don't think I can do that.
Misty: That's okay, I understand. That's why you're going away, and Faith is going to take your place.
Cyndi: What?! You can't do that! I'm needed here!
Misty: That's just it, Cyn - you aren't any more. You're an outdated emotion, one with no place in our world. We kept you around because you helped us through some tough times. But those times are over now. You need to go.
Cyndi: But what if the break up DOES happen? You'll need me then!! Our life will be a wreck if we're not prepared. Can't you see that?
Misty (taking a knife out of her handbag): Faith says it won't happen. I agree. We're going to jump, feet first. This time, it's going to be different. This time, it's forever.
Cyndi (backing up nervously): What are you doing with the knife, Misty? We-we're friends, right? Back away! Stop! D-Don't come near me! I mean it - No.. NO Misty!! AAAAHHH!

Misty finishes her work and steps back. She tosses the knife away and dusts her hands off. As the sun sets, Misty strolls back to her apartment and Faith, her new, permanent, roommate. Together they will redecorate the interior of Amalia's head with a hodge-podge of belongings in an impossible to untangle fashion. That is just how Amalia wants it.

~Amalia~

Six Months and Counting

Less than six months untill the wedding! Can you feel the excitement? I sure can. I feel like there is so much still to be done. I was stressing out about it a bit, actually, when Bear put things into perspective. "Honey, we have the rings, the dress, and a place to do it. What more do we need? Even if the worst happens, we still have everything we need for the ceremony." While I'm hoping the worst doesn't happen, I have to admit he's right.

Things still to do:

• Book rental vendor (this is TOP PRIORITY)
• Contract officiant
• Call/Meet with Photographer
• Buy wedding attendant clothes/gifts
• Clean up wedding/reception area
• Pick and contract florist
• Buy vases for centerpieces
• Steal butcher paper from school for "tablecloths"
• Burn music CDs
• Make and send invitations
• Get engagement photo, notify papers

That's all I can think of right now. I'm sure there's more, even though that list is plenty long. Bear and I have been discussing getting our pictures done. We are destitute, but want nice pictures. I think it is going to have to wait until February. We could do it at WalMart for cheap, but you get Wal Mart quality pictures. I know I won't be happy. I hate cliché poses and that horrible lighting. I want something more us. I have this idea for one picture of us where we are both in our favorite football jerseys - him in a #54 Teddy Bruschi jersey, me in my #54 Brian Urlacher jersey. I think it would be cute! We could look all antagonistic towards each other and stuff. What do you think? Any recommendation for a good photo place? Sears is the only other place that comes to mind, or Northwood Studio in Milo (a private place I know nothing about). Help!

~Amalia~