As I sit down to write my marriage vows, I think about the final, leap of faith I am taking in the exciting, challenging, exultant journey I started 8 short months ago, when I met my fiancee. I feel a combination of happiness, mild anxiety and excitement regarding our life together..How does one envision "forever" with the individual with whom you are about to make a lifetime commitment. There is the fantasy, there is the reality, and there is the blissful in between. One cannot begin to know how things will turn out vs. how they want things to turn out. When we first planned our lives, we did so anticipating the ease of renting out my condo, successfully integrating our households, lives, with a secure financial cushion as our combined incomes would afford us a life of comfort, and independence. First came the crisis of global economy, the recession, this climate which prevented me from finding a renter, which affected my fiancee's industry and thus caused a cut in his company's workload and his income, even the pharmaceutical industry was affected and I lived with the dread of lay offs, having to lay off staff as well as wondering from day to day if I had true job security. This and other ancillary factors contributed to the potential demise of our plans, and the need to find an alternate course to reach our goal-and so we budgeted, and put our adventures on hold to keep a roof over our heads and security for his children. This endurance of stress and sometime disillusionment, caused us to re-asses the romantically impulsive decision we made to become engaged four short months after meeting. Despite all of the stress, he never wavered in his love, and despite my misgivings and resentment over having to budget for the first time in my life, and the drastic changes in my life (which my mother so aptly reminded me were my choice and thus i should "stop my whining" ) I too knew in the core of my heart that I was supposed to spend my life with this man, that this was something meant for me. We made the choice to love, to endure, and as I signed my renter's lease papers for my condo, and as his company recovered and his hours increased, and my ability to go to Nordstroms returned, (though not as much, rats) I thought, we held our course, we made it through, side by side..
Traditional marriage vows, love honor and obey, no problem there, check..I find humor as I think about the inevitable outcomes that should be presented as a disclaimer with vows. "I will hide all of my bad qualities until the day you place the warm, enveloping gold band across my trembling hand, and then once I have trapped you, out comes the makeup less, crabby shrew who throws away her gym membership for a lifetime of donuts card at crispy cremes+-check. Of course I am joking. Being fairly emotionally honest, and fiercely proud to be myself no matter what, my fiancee will not be horrifically surprised at some awful attribute I kept hidden under a rock until the day he was "mine". For example, shall we combust the 50s inspired fantasy of the man coming home to his dazzling housewife in her red stiletto's, shiny apron and perfectly coiffed hair; with a cheese souffle warming in the oven? As a home worker, with a stressful job in pharmaceutical research that requires me to work well above the typical 8 hr day, I rarely wear make up during the week, and my requisite job uniform consists of sweats and one of my fiancees t shirts. Likewise he is an electrical engineer in the boating industry and comes home smelling of sea salt and sweat from an honest day's work. And the end of times would not cause me to forgo my gym membership, as I am neurotic about my weight and go into a tail spin over a minimal gain. The point is, we presented our emotional and honest selves the day we met, and have done so ever since. That honestly I believe has held us together through some pretty challenging times that would have thwarted less stern and stalwart hearts.
I am looking forward to the "blissful in between" of our lives. I have found someone who accepts me unconditionally, the good, the bad, the ugly..As he knows there has to be a plethora of both positive and negative traits to comprise a balanced person. I look forward to the reality of a challenging life, and the peace of absolute comfort and vulnerability that your every trait has been exposed and accepted (though not always beloved) by your partner. I want my marriage vows to reflect the wonderful, difficult, challenging, joyful, exultant and triumphant journey that brought me to this point. The blissful in between, tears and laughter, chaos and peace, reality and bliss..That is what I want my life to be.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
the worst date ever
The worst date ever....
Most of us veritably cringe in horror in reflection of some of our past dating experiences; unfortunately, as with any news worthy of reporting, the memories most significantly recalled are those tragic or hilaroiusly ridiculous dating experiences at our expense.They may have wrought tears, revulsion, frustration or unexpected laughter being witness to such outrageous behavior in someone who requested our company and time.
In the spirit of recollection and camaraderie over our shared dating experiences I have decided to blog about "the worst date ever".
I remember my worst date ever. Tragically, God provided me a glimmer of insight the evening before my date as to how things would play out, but I neglected to take this celestial hint and thus prevent myself crying in my cheerios in the negative aftermath.I wonder, in my determination to have a positive dating experience after the slew of jack assess who considered Denny's "fine cuisine" if even a clould of locusts or a mightly flood of would have been a strong enough sign to sway from my pursuit of decent date.
The night before my date I had been out dancing at a night club, and in the middle of "hammer time" I turned around a saw a familiar face dirty dancing with an attractive blonde in a tight black dress. Upon further glance I recongnized "Doug" (names have been changed to protect the guilty) the seemingly nice guy I had met who had asked me to join him for a quaint bayside lunch the following Sunday afternoon. Upon recognition, he passed alarming glances between myself and his tango partner, and then put on a passing poker face once he came to resolution of the potential confrontation. He then had the nerve to grab my shoulder when her back was turned, wink and whisper "are we still on for tomorrow". I shrugged a non chalant affirmation before turning back to finish my awesome cabbage patch maneuver in a pitiful attempt to impress him with casual reaction to the awkwardness. He was under no obligation to me and I figured he had the right to do whatever he wanted. I still intended to keep the date and come to further determination of his character after.
The next day, not only was he twenty minutes late, with no phone call, our quaint outing consisted of stroll down grotty Mission Bay Boardwalk, with no food and stilted, uninteresting conversation. Worse still, with the wonderful ethnic diversity that comprises the beach area, he felt inclined to make negative comments about "damn foreigners" and "euro trash". Mortified, hungry, and feeling increasingly uncomfortable over his mental stability, I foolishly stayed put, hoping for some glimmer of interest to spark. After several more minutes I recognized the imminent futility of that hope and resigned myself to an afternoon of pain.
All at once I recognized an attractive guy who frequented the same beach bar as I; he was riding a beach cruiser, smiling. To my then demented brain his bike was transformed into a white steed, he was armed with a lance and would surely come charging down the sand, sweep me to safety and trounce on the ingrate who had been wasting my Sunday. I never could get his attention, and the longest hour of my life elapsed between walking back to date's car, and the eventual drive home. I shudder in disdain over that experience, and curse myself for staying. I don't understand why I did not arrange a back up plan, to have a friend call my cell phone under the guise of distress. The code word for "save me" being an inquiry of "are you alright?" and thus departing effectively and innocently, with the intent to save a friend in distress. The code word for "he is hot and I am in heaven" being "oh, nice hearing from you." At least I don't have to worry about that anymore.
My significant other has a short, but tragic dating story. He had been seeing an attractive girl, who was petite and slight; it was the early 90s and the waifish look was in, therefore her slender physique, always disguised, under modest dress, did not alarm him.. He had arranged to take her to a up and coming, trendy restaurant, and was looking forward to partaking of the acclaimed cuisine. When dinner came, and she had not touched her food, he inquired as to any problems with the quality, and she shook her head and burst into tears. In an attempt to be galant, he motioned the server over to take back the dinner as he presumed she was in agony over the quality of the food. Through her tears she informed him she was an anorexic and thus unable to eat a full dinner, He kindly dried her tears, expressed comfort and understanding, drove her home and recommended a good internal medicine physician for treatment. He did not obsess nor analyze the experience; in his opinion the date was horrible because a terrific meal was wasted. Men are so wonderfully pragmatic. When something does not work, simply move on. I wish I had possessed such practicality.
Most of us veritably cringe in horror in reflection of some of our past dating experiences; unfortunately, as with any news worthy of reporting, the memories most significantly recalled are those tragic or hilaroiusly ridiculous dating experiences at our expense.They may have wrought tears, revulsion, frustration or unexpected laughter being witness to such outrageous behavior in someone who requested our company and time.
In the spirit of recollection and camaraderie over our shared dating experiences I have decided to blog about "the worst date ever".
I remember my worst date ever. Tragically, God provided me a glimmer of insight the evening before my date as to how things would play out, but I neglected to take this celestial hint and thus prevent myself crying in my cheerios in the negative aftermath.I wonder, in my determination to have a positive dating experience after the slew of jack assess who considered Denny's "fine cuisine" if even a clould of locusts or a mightly flood of would have been a strong enough sign to sway from my pursuit of decent date.
The night before my date I had been out dancing at a night club, and in the middle of "hammer time" I turned around a saw a familiar face dirty dancing with an attractive blonde in a tight black dress. Upon further glance I recongnized "Doug" (names have been changed to protect the guilty) the seemingly nice guy I had met who had asked me to join him for a quaint bayside lunch the following Sunday afternoon. Upon recognition, he passed alarming glances between myself and his tango partner, and then put on a passing poker face once he came to resolution of the potential confrontation. He then had the nerve to grab my shoulder when her back was turned, wink and whisper "are we still on for tomorrow". I shrugged a non chalant affirmation before turning back to finish my awesome cabbage patch maneuver in a pitiful attempt to impress him with casual reaction to the awkwardness. He was under no obligation to me and I figured he had the right to do whatever he wanted. I still intended to keep the date and come to further determination of his character after.
The next day, not only was he twenty minutes late, with no phone call, our quaint outing consisted of stroll down grotty Mission Bay Boardwalk, with no food and stilted, uninteresting conversation. Worse still, with the wonderful ethnic diversity that comprises the beach area, he felt inclined to make negative comments about "damn foreigners" and "euro trash". Mortified, hungry, and feeling increasingly uncomfortable over his mental stability, I foolishly stayed put, hoping for some glimmer of interest to spark. After several more minutes I recognized the imminent futility of that hope and resigned myself to an afternoon of pain.
All at once I recognized an attractive guy who frequented the same beach bar as I; he was riding a beach cruiser, smiling. To my then demented brain his bike was transformed into a white steed, he was armed with a lance and would surely come charging down the sand, sweep me to safety and trounce on the ingrate who had been wasting my Sunday. I never could get his attention, and the longest hour of my life elapsed between walking back to date's car, and the eventual drive home. I shudder in disdain over that experience, and curse myself for staying. I don't understand why I did not arrange a back up plan, to have a friend call my cell phone under the guise of distress. The code word for "save me" being an inquiry of "are you alright?" and thus departing effectively and innocently, with the intent to save a friend in distress. The code word for "he is hot and I am in heaven" being "oh, nice hearing from you." At least I don't have to worry about that anymore.
My significant other has a short, but tragic dating story. He had been seeing an attractive girl, who was petite and slight; it was the early 90s and the waifish look was in, therefore her slender physique, always disguised, under modest dress, did not alarm him.. He had arranged to take her to a up and coming, trendy restaurant, and was looking forward to partaking of the acclaimed cuisine. When dinner came, and she had not touched her food, he inquired as to any problems with the quality, and she shook her head and burst into tears. In an attempt to be galant, he motioned the server over to take back the dinner as he presumed she was in agony over the quality of the food. Through her tears she informed him she was an anorexic and thus unable to eat a full dinner, He kindly dried her tears, expressed comfort and understanding, drove her home and recommended a good internal medicine physician for treatment. He did not obsess nor analyze the experience; in his opinion the date was horrible because a terrific meal was wasted. Men are so wonderfully pragmatic. When something does not work, simply move on. I wish I had possessed such practicality.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
What we are, what this is to me.
What we are:
We are both a little tortured, a little damaged and we shrug and mutually chuckle over this failing, this adversity that has become an ingrained character trait, gleaned and developed from years of bad choices, stubborn determination in the face of clear defeat, decisions based on love sick fairy tales we tried to manipulate to fit our convenient dreams, heads buried deep in the proverbial sand of denial, fear of failure and prevention of isolation. Almost anything to find that dream of true love, true companionship that eluded us. Or worse yet, once the poor substitute was discovered and established, anything to attain (in my case) or maintain (your case) something that was horrendously failing, to the detriment of our perception, peace of mind and perhaps our health. The faltering idea of love that we have pursued mercilessly, that which has betrayed us, manipulated us, misguided and ultimately failed us.
But did we fail ourselves for not recognizing the glaring clarity of our bad judgement and repetition of naivete? And at times, utter stupidity? Choices that prolonged pain, perpetuated shame, that we knowingly made to prevent the awful alternative?
or were we propelled by the forces of fate, destiny, or a merciful God who knew we would eventually find each other, but we had to become battered, bruised, with strengthened character, and defenses before the journey brought us here?
For whatever pain or betrayal I have experienced, for the knot of occasional paranoia and fear and lack of trust in my heart, wrought by years of failure that you are slowly unwinding, I would repeat almost every bad choice with the retrospective knowledge that the momentum of ignorance and immaturity would develop a rocky path that once trodden, would lead me to you.
You are my healing breath, you are my new found laughter, you are my ally, my comrade, one that, when reflecting upon shared experiences, can laugh, or shudder, or feel shame and say, "yeah, I remember how it felt to be there"..
And on the eve of the second horizon of my life, if it took the first twenty years to make all of the embarassing mistakes, horrific choices and eliminate all of the wild impulses, to come to this point here with you, where I have laughed, cried, have been re-born and died, it shall surely be followed by the eternal twilight of your companionship, your laughter, renewed inspiration and hope in myself, in us, for us, and what I thought I had eternally lost, or would forever try to find.Iknow now that I had to experience all of the dissapointment and suffer all of the seeming loss to develop the soul and character worthy of this love..
We are both a little tortured, a little damaged and we shrug and mutually chuckle over this failing, this adversity that has become an ingrained character trait, gleaned and developed from years of bad choices, stubborn determination in the face of clear defeat, decisions based on love sick fairy tales we tried to manipulate to fit our convenient dreams, heads buried deep in the proverbial sand of denial, fear of failure and prevention of isolation. Almost anything to find that dream of true love, true companionship that eluded us. Or worse yet, once the poor substitute was discovered and established, anything to attain (in my case) or maintain (your case) something that was horrendously failing, to the detriment of our perception, peace of mind and perhaps our health. The faltering idea of love that we have pursued mercilessly, that which has betrayed us, manipulated us, misguided and ultimately failed us.
But did we fail ourselves for not recognizing the glaring clarity of our bad judgement and repetition of naivete? And at times, utter stupidity? Choices that prolonged pain, perpetuated shame, that we knowingly made to prevent the awful alternative?
or were we propelled by the forces of fate, destiny, or a merciful God who knew we would eventually find each other, but we had to become battered, bruised, with strengthened character, and defenses before the journey brought us here?
For whatever pain or betrayal I have experienced, for the knot of occasional paranoia and fear and lack of trust in my heart, wrought by years of failure that you are slowly unwinding, I would repeat almost every bad choice with the retrospective knowledge that the momentum of ignorance and immaturity would develop a rocky path that once trodden, would lead me to you.
You are my healing breath, you are my new found laughter, you are my ally, my comrade, one that, when reflecting upon shared experiences, can laugh, or shudder, or feel shame and say, "yeah, I remember how it felt to be there"..
And on the eve of the second horizon of my life, if it took the first twenty years to make all of the embarassing mistakes, horrific choices and eliminate all of the wild impulses, to come to this point here with you, where I have laughed, cried, have been re-born and died, it shall surely be followed by the eternal twilight of your companionship, your laughter, renewed inspiration and hope in myself, in us, for us, and what I thought I had eternally lost, or would forever try to find.Iknow now that I had to experience all of the dissapointment and suffer all of the seeming loss to develop the soul and character worthy of this love..
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