We found it.

There is a bistro we went to last year that we absolutely loved. The atmosphere was fantastic, the food was delicious, and the guy who served us was so funny and charming, we instantly dubbed him the French version of a dear friend of ours from home. He found out we were newly engaged and brought us a bottle of wine and sat down next to Matthew, told him his life would change forever, and was he sure? With a wink in my direction, he pressed Matthew about his plans and his intentions. He told us that his wife was expecting their second baby and he couldn't be happier about it. We spent a couple really fun hours with him and we wanted to find that place again to see if we could say hello. It's really touching when a stranger makes an impact on you, even if you only spend fleeting moments together. This guy made an indelible impression on us.

We didn't know the name of the place and couldn't really remember where the bistro was. We stumbled upon it last year only after having walked for quite awhile in search of a place to have dinner that looked like a local hangout and wouldn't cost us a bazillion euros. We had little hope of finding it again this year.

Well, Matthew had a sudden brain hiccup and remembered the street it was on. Brilliant. After a short walk we found it! We took an excited deep breath and walked in. A man we didn't see last time sat us at a table next to a large group of locals. We thought perhaps our guy didn't work there any longer, or perhaps he was off that night. Disappointing, but we were still glad we found the bistro at all.

After perusing the menu for a few minutes and deciding to eat pretty much the same meal as last year we looked up to see the French version of our friend striding by with 3 bottles of wine in one hand and a tray of glasses in the other for the table of locals next to us.

We had another lovely dinner, another touching conversation with our guy, and another night of perfect memories of our second favorite city. As we were leaving, we were told, "Last year, not married. This year, married. Next year, baby! You come and show me."

We'll see, friend, we'll see.

WTF, Melissa?

I do something that annoys me. I have always done it and I have always hated it. I wonder if anyone else does it.

When I go on vacation, without fail, I start to think about how sad I'll be when the vacation is over roundabout the second day. As if there is some invisible clock that hangs over my head counting down the seconds, minutes, hours, days until I have to go back home and look reality in the face all over again.

It's day 2. There are 8 left. I woke up this morning with a pang of sadness because I know it will soon be over. I've vowed to put those thoughts out of my mind. They're useless. There is no sense in thinking about the end of the honeymoon when there are 8 glorious days left. I am so ridiculous.

P.S. This clock is in a tiny square we discovered today. We walked past the same streets last year, but we didn't walk down and explore this exact place. Matthew said this clock looked like it could make time stop. For a few moments today I wished that were true.

Love, love, love this place!

Paris is magic. It's the place we both wanted to go first in Europe when we finally got the chance. Ever since we were kids we wanted to see this city and experience it for ourselves. We came here last year for the first time and it was the best trip of our lives... until this one, of course!

This is where we got engaged. This place holds a special place in our hearts because we decided to spend our lives together here. We took a big step toward creating a family here. We fell in love with each other all over again and fell in love with the city at the same time. That was almost a year ago.

This trip has a different feel, a different purpose. We got married. We are husband and wife now. We travel here as a governmentally recognized unit. I wear one more ring on my finger now.

We're staying at the same hotel, we've seen some of the same people, but it feels a little different. It feels spectacular. It's been raining and grey and we don't even care. Paris is gorgeous, even when viewed from under an umbrella huddled together with your favorite person.

Paris, nous sommes pretes!

** Welcome to the first installment of the honeymoon make-up posts. Each was jotted down in one form or another - on a napkin at the airport, in a notebook in Paris, in the back of guide book in Prague, on a postcard in Berlin... **

We leave tonight. We head to Europe. 10 days of nothing but each other, peppered with bits of history (or lots of it, if we stay true to our typical nerdy selves) and varying degrees of embarrassing language blunders. It's going to be amazing. We'll be in Paris, Prague, and Berlin; each for 3 nights. Getting to spend some time alone is going to be wonderful, but I already know we'll miss our friends and be glad to get back to Brooklyn when it's over. Besides, the Dukester will be hard to be away from for a week and a half.

I can only imagine what this honeymoon will be like. Matthew is a super romantic guy anyway, so putting him in Europe is like giving his romantic tendencies a steroid. Add the fact that we just got married to the mix and our entire trip will probably be shrouded in a happy cloud of soft-focus mushiness. I really am the luckiest woman alive.




(I mean, look at how goofy I get when I look at this man! This is the first of the wedding photos I'll post courtesy of the awesome photographers from Beautiful Union Portraits.)

We did it

(image courtesy of Beautiful Union Portraits)


We're married. I'm a wife. He's a husband. It's the best.

I was told by more guests than I can count that it was the best wedding they'd ever been to and I couldn't agree more. Every aspect of our night was perfect. I want to document many of those things here, but it will need to wait until I am a little more coherent and awake. It's been an absolute whirlwind for 36 hours and I need a nap more than anything else at this point.

What I can tell you, despite my state of partial consciousness, is that I would not have changed a single thing. It was my perfect wedding. He is my perfect husband. I'm going to do my best to be his perfect wife from here on out. I couldn't ask for more.

I will share so much more a little later. Here's a preview: Matthew told me he had a surprise for me. He refused to give me a clue further than "it has something to do with a fat guy named David". I had no idea what he was cooking up. Halfway through our reception our band gave him the mic, handed him a guitar, and he surprised me with the most beautiful rendition of "Our House" by CSN&Y with 2 of our best friends singing harmony and playing 2nd guitar. To say there wasn't a dry house in the place would be an understatement.

The big day

** I must confess that I've written this in advance to be posted today because I know I'll have so many things to do. **

Today's the day. Today I marry the most amazing person I know. Matthew, my love, my partner, my cool breeze, my sunshine.

Thank you to all of you who have visited me in this space for all these years and wished me well. I appreciate the kinds words in good times and in bad more than you probably know. Sometimes planning this wedding was so stressful and to alleviate some of the strain I'd go back and read a few of the amazing things you've said to me in the past. You've been so supportive, a real community. You've helped me though some rough spots and you've cheered me on through the triumphs.

Today is a big day. My life will never be the same. I'll have an official stamp on the partnership I've been half of for 2 years now. I'll even have a different last name! I couldn't be happier to be Matthew's wife.

I'll probably post all my honeymoon posts when we get back, so if you don't see any movement in this space don't be alarmed. I'll be back in 12 days with stories to tell and photos to share. I'll miss you!

Today

(image courtesy of Beautiful Union Portraits)

It's here. Today's the day. I couldn't be happier. I've never been more thrilled in my life.

I have to get to the floral district in the city before the crowds come out, but before I go and run around like a madwoman until 7:00 rolls around and I walk down that aisle... I wanted to share a photo from last night's rehearsal dinner. Our photographers are amazing. Man, I love having talented friends!

Our dinner was beyond delicious and we had the most fun. About 15 of our nearest and dearest were there (the menu and our favorite bistro warrant their own post when we get back from our honeymoon) and we ended up moving the party back to our place, where 20 of us partied it up until about 1AM. I am a sleepy child this morning. Coffee is a must. Pre-marital coffee.

Practice makes perfect

Tomorrow I get married. Tonight we have a rehearsal dinner at our favorite little French bistro! It's going to be great. Close friends and family will be there. Our relatives who travelled will get to meet Philippe and experience some of his crazy Parisian outbursts for themselves. It's going to be a culture clash and I can't wait to watch it all happen. Between the Rhode Island contingent and the Pennsylvania crew we're going to have a colorful bunch. Not to mention the California, Vermont, and Virginia factions. Oy vey, we're gonna have stories.

Thank goodness for wine. Lots of wine. Lots of good, French wine.

Happy Melissa. She just nailed a job interview. She's getting married in 2 days. Life is good.

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Tick, tock, tick, tock

Every hour that passes reminds me of something else I need to do, something else to take care of before the big day. There are so many little things to set in place. Does everyone have what they need? Have I remembered the details of everything? Can I manage to get all the specifics I have carefully filed in my brain out of their hiding places so other people will know what needs to be done?

You might think I'm talking about the wedding. I'm actually talking about work - getting ready to be away from work for 2 & 1/2 weeks is a very stressful undertaking. Not only do I have to make sure my clients are well looked after, but I have to explain the ins and outs of each project to a coworker who is backing me up while I'm away. Explaining a project entails documenting every last, little thing that needs to be done and this process takes hours. I'm drained.

It's only Tuesday. I know time will fly by and before I know it I'll be married, back from the honeymoon, and onto a better job... but today and tomorrow are filled with tough meetings and irritating items to checked off the to-do list.

Bacchus ain't got nothin' on me...

It makes me sound like a lush. I'm not, I swear. I just can't help it!

I'm fascinated by these boxes at the end of our hallway. Wine. So much wine. Can't wait for Saturday!

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Mmm... Sunday

Another perk of getting married: if you're buying your own alcohol for the bar at your reception you get to sample the stuff you bought. You know, to make sure you got good stuff. No one wants to serve wine to their gusts that hasn't been thoroughly sampled and quality tested, right?

For example, we bought 6 cases of wine yesterday and this morning we shared a bottle of prosecco. Grapefruit mimosas go down so easily with simple cheddar omelets and coffee.

What's left on our to-do list for today? The liquor store - must get booze. More booze. I'm trying to figure out the most efficient way to get in the shower, get ready, and get out of the house all while slightly warm & fuzzy from the prosecco.

It worked!

You guys can uncross yourselves now. The couch fit! I credit the crossing of various limbs and such with this momentous triumph.

This is a very happy Matthew stretched out on our new couch.

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Cross your fingers for me

Tomorrow morning we're buying a friend's couch. It's a much nicer couch than ours (read: not broken and falling apart), plus it's a sleeper sofa which means that overnight guests won't have to be on an air mattress or army cot when they come to visit.

I have the measurements, and I *think* it will make it in the door... but just in case, cross your fingers for me. We live in a classic Brooklyn brownstone. That means interesting entry angles and non-standard door widths.

Stand in this line, then stand in that line, then go back to this line...

Government is hilarious. And by hilarious I mean frustrating, inefficient, infuriating, and backward.

We went to the City Clerk this morning to get our marriage license. We were there before the building opened and we were the first in line. Theoretically we should have been in and out in 20 mins. I even remarked as we waited for 8:30 to roll around that it was looking good for us to be out of there quickly. Which, of course, made Matthew smack his forehead and grimace. "No! No, you can't say that! Now we're screwed."

Apparently the acknowledgement of good chances of having a positive experience in a municipal building is the equivalent of requesting your own doom. We had our forms filled out, our money order stamped, everything was in order. We were walking up to the window, beaming with pride and smiling from ear to ear... when we were told that no one could get onto the network and they had no clue how long it would take to fix it.

Network. Down. Crap. This is when a manual system seems like a welcome switch. Matthew kept remarking that if someone had a typewriter we'd be done by now.

On the bright side this unexpected speedbump allowed lots of time to people watch. Take my word for it, the people watching opportunities in Brooklyn Borough Hall are on par with the greatest freak shows in the world. People of all creeds, all walks of life were waiting there with us. And they were all getting married. Wowzers. Humanity is fabulously funny. My favorites were the odd couples. The people who seemed like polar opposites who had chosen to spend their lives together. Mad props to those folks.

When the network came back online we got our forms processed and we thought we were done. Oh no, silly us! We had to wait in the cashier line - the line we waited in when we first got to the office to get our forms. By this time there were 40 people ahead of us because it was 11:00, not 8:30 like when we got there.

3 lines, 1 money order, 3 hours, and countless amusements later we have our marriage license and a handful of funny stories to boot. 9 days to go and we're legally allowed to get married now. Whew!

Good news

I was inspired by Lynilu's comment on my post from yesterday. She mentioned that often we don't hear of the good news on the news. The news is always the bad stuff. The nasties of the day packed into a neat & tidy half hour of doom & gloom. Fun, right? Well, in an effort to balance out the bad with a smidge of the good here's the Wednesday Good News Report:

1) Environmental: A woman is being honored for saving Lake Baikal in Russia from a huge oil pipeline. Marina Rikhvanova is receiving an award in San Francisco for her environmental activism. She was scared of what would happen to the eco systems in the lake, so she mounted a campaign to raise awareness and protest the construction. She won! The pipeline was rerouted.

2) Personal: We received a wedding gift with a card that said "For Lucy & Ricky from Fred & Ethel". It was from our landlords who live upstairs. How funny is that? Adorable.

3) Medical/Scientific: There has been cool new research done in the field of hearing aids. Most people don't think about hearing aids unless they wear them, but those who are hearing impaired usually have a love/hate relationship with them. They can be clunky and ineffective. A new one is so teeny it lives in the ear canal near the eardrum and you can't see it from the outside. Pretty sweet!

Got some good news to report? Leave it in the comments.

UPDATE: 4) Personal: I have a job interview tomorrow afternoon. Yay!

OK, I get it, but c'mon!

I am aware that I sound like a sourpuss. I know I seem intolerant and small-minded. I don't care.

I'm sick of hearing about the pope being here.

It's been 3 weeks of constant media barrage about the pope this, the pope that. He's coming here. Yep. He's in New York. Uh huh. He's going to a synagogue. OK. He's meeting with people. Yeah. He's going to go to the bathroom and take showers and fart a bunch, too, but I don't need to hear all about it.

I don't need to know what the man is going to eat when he's here. I don't need to see an insiders' perspective from the caterer who is going to be making him dinner. It's great that there are paramedics assigned to him, but I don't need to know the backstory on every one of those peoples' lives. Yes, the pope is going to be driven on a certain route to the synagogue, but I don't want to see 3 different news crews driving the route and explaining the traffic patterns.

There is real news out there. We are in a war. People were murdered today. There are diseases that are being researched. The pope is coming. I got it. Tell me what he did when he was here after he's done it. Don't give me 3 weeks of previews and make the general media into Catholic TV.

The Dalai Lama went to Seattle last week. I saw one blurb about it. 'Nuff said.

UPDATE: The pope's arrival in DC is now preempting all other network broadcasts. It's been going on for half an hour. For the first 20 minutes it was a simple shot of a camera fixed on the open door of the plane. Wow. How thrilling. A plane. With an open door. The pope's in there. Wow. Oh, look, he came out. Now he's walking. Oh my. He walks.

Raise your voice

I'm always a proponent of speaking up. Speak up against injustices (big ones and small ones), against violence, for good food, on behalf of those with no voices, against bad movies, against bad grammar, for the wonders of chocolate covered pretzels... the list goes on.

Today I'm raising my voice and speaking up about type 1 diabetes. My friend, Kerri, has the disease and she told her blog readers about Raise Your Voice day which is today, 4/14/08. Most people are familiar with type 2 diabetes - the kind you hear about a lot in the news because our country is developing it at an alarming rate due to our fat fat fat high sugar and salt ways. Most people are not, however, all that familiar with type 1. You might have wondered why type 2 was the second when you'd never heard of the first, but that's as far as it goes for most folks.

Please take a moment to read Kerri's blog entry for today. She's eloquent and she's a great advocate for people with type 1 diabetes and the treatments available today and those being researched for the future. She cannot be cured of this disease. She was diagnosed as a small kid and has been dealing with this her whole life. Next month, when she marries her awesome fiance, Chris (Matthew's locker mate from high school), she will wear her insulin pump in a pocket sewn in by her seamstress. When she & Chris want to start a family she will have to take serious precautions and prepare her body well in advance of any possible pregnancy. She will be stuck with needles and prodded by meters every day for the rest of her life... and unless you know her you'd never have a clue she has a disease.

She's in better shape than I am, she's beautiful, she's smart as a whip, funny as hell, and she lives her life with a resolve to keep her diabetes at bay as much as she can. She doesn't let it define her, but it easily could.

Take a moment, learn a little, tell someone else about type 1 today. The more we talk about it the closer we get to more research, closer to a cure, closer to the day that Kerri can walk around without being attached to a machine.

Last-minute reprieve!

(<-- my bro and my dad)

I have now become one of those 30 year old women who have been saved in one financial way or another by their father. I never thought it would happen to me. I'm not the kind of girl who discusses my finances with my parents... I'm an adult. We severed financial ties long ago and it's a good thing in my book.

So, when I called my dad on Friday afternoon and told him I needed to vent I was not expecting him to swoop in with a superhero getup and save the day. But he did. See, he had his performance review around the same time I had mine. His was equally filled with bullshit - it always is. In fact, his nickname around the store last year was Mr. Meets Expectations because of his constant middle of the road reviews no matter how well the store is performing. Anyway, we had previously talked about the bonus I was scheduled to get and how it was going to pay for the catering and all that. I told him I needed to vent about how I didn't get it on time and now I was screwed and Matthew was going to have to ask his crazy cokehead boss to front us the cash until my payout came through. I was talking very fast, my voice was loud, I was angry, he was quietly listening... and then I cracked. The tears started. I hate crying in front of my dad. He's not good with emotion. It makes him uncomfortable. His standard response to tears is, "You are out of control right now." I was out of control while I sobbed and told him I was very worried and let down and how those people are assholes and I need a new job and... and... and...

"Missy, (yes, that's my nickname that I can't seem to shake no matter how hard I try, stop laughing - the only people who are allowed to call me that are my family and my friends from high school, The Rover included) don't worry. I'll get you the money. The wedding will go off without a hitch. Don't you worry. It will be OK." When those words came out of his mouth I was shocked. Not shocked because my parents aren't kind people with generous hearts, but because I know my folks don't have that kind of money lying around. Turns out he had just gotten an equity loan to do some fixer-upper stuff around the house and he had some dough at his disposal. He wasn't going to start the repairs until after the wedding anyway, so he can loan me the money without it affecting him much at all.

The timing couldn't be more perfect. I'm amazed. You know what else is amazing? 3 different friends stepped forward of their own accord and offered to lend us their tax returns, no questions asked. I must say, I feel very loved and cared for. We are so fortunate. We have wonderful parents and unbelievable friends. Heroic acts of generosity have been shown to us in a pretty scary time... I know I will not soon forget how hopeless I felt only to be buoyed by our friends and family at a moment's notice.

Today I am grateful and humbled and full of joy. Tears are happy ones today. You don't think just because things are going well I'd stop crying, do you? *wink*

Breath in, breath out

I kid you not - after the fiasco of yesterday's bonus ridiculousness I had to attend a pre-scheduled office meeting. The topic? Stress management.

I swear.

Stress freaking Management. Here's something that can help with stress management - paying people when you say you will. Telling the truth to your employees who count on you. Yep, that about does it.

Instead, they demonstrated varying techniques for mental and physical balance, which I actually respect because it's pretty new age-y and progressive for a corporate environment. Yoga, meditation, breathing techniques - all these things are methods I employ in my own life already, so to know they're being presented by office management is pretty awesome, but there's no way I can take it seriously. Sitting there at the other end of a virtual meeting with everyone else across the country, listening to the heavy breathing in the room as people practiced what was demonstrated I could do nothing but laugh. The expression "too little too late" applies perfectly.

This chick has a solid Warrior 2 and is ready to take her strong body to a new job.

The big "D"

Disappointment. It looms like a dark cloud. It likes to sneak up on you when you think things are fine. It lurks in the shadows waiting for an opportune moment to pounce on you and catch you off guard like some weak prey on the Serengeti.

Today it got me. It sprang up from the depths and grabbed me to take me down.

Remember the bonus I was counting on from work? The one based on closing the office and transitioning accounts? The one that was earmarked for the wedding? The one that was going to pay for all of the catering in one fell swoop? It was scheduled to come in today's paycheck. I've had multiple conversations with the higher-ups about this - confirming scheduling, payout amount, underscoring the importance of this money as it was going to pay for the bulk of my wedding. Oh yes, the higher-ups told me, no problem, you'll see it on 4/11, no need for worry.

I checked my bank balance this morning and only my regular paycheck is there. No bonus.

A payroll oversight? A financial mistake? An easily rectifiable issue? Nope. No human error caused this. It just wasn't approved. There were, of course, stipulations on the bonus - things like financial clean up for outstanding projects, documenting the process for each client, etc. Well, my client's financials couldn't be totally cleaned up because they are amazingly slow at issuing purchase orders and the rest of the documentation I need to be able to invoice them. They've admitted this. A VP of the company wrote an email to the larger group letting them know that as much as I have done for cleanup there is little that is in my control since the delays are on the client side.

The VP wrote this email. My bonus still didn't get approved. Did anyone bother to let me know that it was in jeopardy? Nope. The answer given to me this morning was that as soon as they're satisfied that I've done everything I can on my end to get the documentation we need the bonus will get approved. Excuse me, but I thought the email from the VP pretty clearly stated that was the case.

So now, I scramble. I scramble to come up with money I don't have for a wedding that is happening 2 weeks from tomorrow. I have no guarantees that the bonus will even be paid in the next paycheck. I'm angry and upset, but more than anything I'm insulted because they lied to my face. They told me everything was in order when it wasn't. These are the same people who penalized me on my recent performance review because my "reaction to the news of the office closure was negative". Was I supposed to be jumping for joy? Then they said that since other people looked to me to set the mood in the office it contributed to a negative environment. So, it was held against me that people were upset about the office closing... as if they would have been thrilled if I were positive about it. As if my negative reaction caused everyone to think, "Wait a second, this is a shitty thing that's happening to us after all! Melissa is so right. We never would have realized this without her!"

I'm getting my bonus, I'm taking my honeymoon, and then I'm out. It's new job time. Even my mom, who is always one to tow the party line, said to me this morning that it's time to leave because "they don't treat you very well at all."

Duh.

(image courtesy of Natalie Dee)

My precious!

After all the hubbub about the rings we went to an antique jeweler tonight in the city. Wouldn't you just know it... the girl who wanted a plain band found a spectacular estate piece with 5 teensie weensie channel set diamonds and engraving on the sides. It's amazing. It's affordable (surprisingly) and I'm going to pick it up this weekend. It fits perfectly, it looks great with my engagement ring, and I love it. It's worn and obviously a vintage piece. You can tell the stones were hand set and the white gold band has warmed up so nicely over time. It looks like an heirloom. I guess in some ways it is, even though I didn't know the family it came from.

We're still looking for M's ring. Figures. One more place to look and then it's plain band time.

I miss Shell Silverstein

Colors
by Shell Silverstein

My skin is kind of sort of brownish
Pinkish yellowish white.
My eyes are greyish blueish green,
But I'm told they look orange in the night.
My hair is reddish blondish brown,
But it's silver when it's wet.
And all the colors I am inside
Have not been invented yet.


Listen to The Mustn'ts
by Shell Silverstein

Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,
Listen to the DON'TS
Listen to the SHOULDN'TS
The IMPOSSIBLES,
the WON'TS
Listen of the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me--
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be.


I needed all that advice today. I'm glad I looked him up.

G'head, say it!

I am blatantly stealing from Cajun Vegan (no, not animal free veee-gun, in Las Vegas vay-gun, OK?). She posted this video today and it is so damn good I can't help but post it here, as well. I'm a dirty, rotten thief and I don't care a whit.

If you are the type who is easily offended by dirty language, then you shouldn't watch this video. If you are the type who appreciates the varied and splendid uses for a good swear word then, by all means, watch this viedo and share in my delight and amusement. Don't be scared by Kelly Osbourne. It's not her music video or anything. Wouldn't want to offend that badly.

But, I love you

Dumbest arguement I've had in a long time: whether or not it means I've "given up" and "conceded defeat" if I choose a plain wedding band rather than the most perfect, spectacular, antique, art nouveau one.

The original idea for our wedding rings was to find vintage art nouveau (or deco, beggars can't be choosy) rings that matched, that were perfectly in our size (you can't easily size a nouveau ring because of the intricacy of the details), and that fit our budget. As you can probably tell, those criteria had a snowball's chance in hell of being realized.

When I finally said I'd like to get a plain, thin band that matched the plain, thin band of my engagement ring it turned into me settling for boring crap instead of going for the gold... quite literally. With 18 days left to go there's no way we're finding matching bands. The chips are stacked against us - we left too little time to mount a proper search, both our fingers are bigger than the typical ring sizes of the 1910s-20s which is the period our favorite designs come from, we didn't want to go with reproductions, finding vintage and estate jewelry in NYC is easy, finding it at affordable prices is not.

I finally made my point that a plain, simple band would look best with my engagement ring, but it was a struggle. End result: concensus. His response, "But, I love you!" 'Nuff said.

A Good Day

Today is Matthew's birthday. He's 31. He says it feels remarkably like 30. We met 2 years ago today. We will be married in less than 3 weeks. I'm so proud of him and I'm grateful that we get to spend our lives together.

We went to the Brooklyn Museum of Art (a whopping 3 blocks from our apartment and one of the best museums in the world). They have an exhibit of Takashi Murakami's work that we were planning to see, but when the 7 of us got there we found out there was a $10 admission fee for the exhibit and half of the group are starving artists... so $10 to see some Japanese pop art wasn't in the cards. Instead, we made modest donations to the museum and visited portions of the main collection.

My favorite was the current exhibits in the Sackler Gallery for Feminist Art. Normally, I'm not a contemporary art fan. Moreover, I'm never a fan of labels other than nationality or time period. Labeling something as "feminist art" makes me crazy and I shy away from galleries that promote that kind of categorization. It seems to counter intuitive to me. Anyway, I was very pleasantly surprised to have found not only 2 contemporary artists I can stand behind 100%, but one in particular that really spoke to me in ways I didn't expect. The Judy Chicago installation of The Dinner Party is amazing, and you should see it if you can. But, it was Ghada Amer who really stopped me in my tracks today.

She's an Egyptian-born, French-raised, New York-living artist who uses fabric, embroidery, text, and paint to create pieces that speak to marginalization of women and themes of typical gender roles. Pretty amazing stuff. If you're near Brooklyn you should check out her work. My favorite piece was a series of 4 panels, each painted a muted shade of CMYK, arranged in a grid, with intricate embroidery of the definitions of 4 words in Arabic - including freedom and fear, I believe.

Side Ball

** Scribbled in my notebook **

I am not a prude. I repeat: I am not a prude.

Just wanted to get that out there. In fact, I'm pretty darn open and typically not embarrassed by subjects of a sexual nature. Nudity doesn't really phase me, it's the human body which is a beautiful thing, so there's no need to be all weird about it. Remember when Ashcroft had the female Justice statue covered in the Great Hall because one breast was exposed? LAME.

PDA doesn't bother me, I think people who love each other should be able to be affectionate in public without being gross (this does not apply to disgusting displays of tongue kissing across the dinner table in a restaurant or to teenagers at the bus stop with groping hands - eww, I don't need to see that). Kisses and sweet displays of affection aren't things that disturb me.

I have no problem with scenes of a sexual nature on television - this is part of life, and if a child is up at 10PM watching 2 people get it on or seeing partial nudity then it's either high time to talk to that kid about sex or time to send them to bed... either way, that's a parental responsibility and the sexual content isn't the thing to blame.

I believe people should be allowed to do whatever they want in their own bedrooms, provided the parties involved are consenting adults. I'm sure some of my bedroom habits would turn heads and I'm perfectly content to leave the government and anyone else who wants to stick their nose in it out in the cold.

So, the question is this: why was I so utterly shocked and freaked out when at the end of the comedy show last night the friend of a friend and his sketch partner came back onstage with no pants on, holding their bits in their hands, thanking everyone for coming and asking us to stick around for the next act? Let me set the scene for you - the sketch was based on 2 guys at a bar. Guy #1 had to pee, they both went to the loo. Guy #1 pees, Guy #2 says, "OK, let's get back out there!". Guy #1 realizes Guy #2 (his best friend) doesn't want to pee in front of him. Hilarity ensues. As a test of their friendship and manliness Guy #1 challenges Guy #2 to go into the stall with him and stand there with their pants off for 5 minutes to show Guy #2 that there's nothing wrong with letting your best friend see you naked. While they're in there someone steals their jeans, which they'd hung over the door. This was all taking place backstage and we were listening to the audio... the guys then emerged at the end of the sketch looking just as they did when they left the stage, but sans pants... and undies, holding their twigs & berries in their hands.

The whole audience erupted in laughter and my friends and I kept looking at each other, eyes wide as dinner plates, not believing these 2 dudes were essentially half naked in front of us. As we were leaving the theatre, my friend turned to me and said, "I don't know about you, but I definitely saw some side ball. I've never seen that much of Gregor before!" Side ball. My new favorite term.

TGIF? *yawn*

** Scribbled in my notebook **

Why is it that Friday nights are so hard? It seems that no matter what my plans are, who I'm with, where I am, Friday night around 11:00 is my absolute breaking point. I cannot stay up any later, I get cranky, my feet start to hurt, I just want to be home in bed. I anticipate that same reaction tonight. I'm on the train headed into the city to see a friend of a friend's comedy sketch show at Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre... you might recognize the name since it's where most SNL cast members cut their teeth before the big show. Plus, my personal hero, Amy Poehler, still performs there.

Anyway, it's funny how it's 5:45 and I'm already thinking about how tired I'm going to be in 6 hours. Every time I'm out with friends on a Friday night we all mention how Fridays are hard. We've worked the whole week, we're not 21 with absolutely no need for sleep anymore. Ugh. We'll see how long I last tonight.

For all the crock pot enthusiasts out there, here is the big daddy. And here is the chicken and veggie dish at the beginning. A whole chicken, leeks, carrots, potatoes, onion, white wine, s&p. So simple. Now, I wait.

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It's like my birthday... but not!

It is amazing how generous people are being! These things came today - and yes, that is a kickass candelabra plus a knife set plus a dutch oven plus measuring cups that look like little skillets. Add all this to the super high end crock pot that came 2 nights ago and I'm in heaven (yes, high end crock pot, there is such a thing - did you know KitchenAid makes them? super cool! digital and everything). I'm overwhelmed.

It's just like my birthday... except I'm still 30 and I've got a kitchen full of awesome. I'm feeling really loved today. So far, I've only cried twice! Things are looking up.

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Boo hoo

I'm a cryer. Anyone who knows me knows this is true. I cry when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm overhwelmed, when I'm feeling good. When I'm angry, when I'm elated.

The waterworks are part of my life, sometimes daily. Today my face has been an on and off faucet. My client volunteers as a child advocate in the court system for a little girl in foster care and she told me about her latest court appearance. That sent me into tears - wishing I could be that strong for someone who needs it. Then I looked for shoes online for the wedding and couldn't find any I liked - sniffle, sniffle, cry. Nice jump, right? Kids in foster care who need adult protectors and elusive shoes are both things that have reduced me to blubbering today. What the hell?

I reread my post about modern day slavery and lost my cool. I got frustrated with work (what else is new) and sobbed about it. I went to pick up my wedding dress from the cleaners and it won't be ready until tomorrow - gasp! Tears were shed on the walk home.

I feel pathetic. I think I need some chocolate and a hot bath.