It's about time!

As of yesterday, California began performing and recognizing same-sex marriages. The first couple to wed in San Fransisco was a couple that has been together for more than 50 years. Del Martin, 87, and Phyllis Lyon, 84 got married. They actually married back in '04 during the brief window when CA said same-sex marriages were legal... only to later have that union invalidated.

These two women are an example of perserverence. They are an example that love can triumph and that committment can last. For more than 50 years they've shared their lives and been partners. That's all I can hope for my husband and I - that we reach the 50 year mark with as much tenacity and love as those women.

Slight Chub

I am not in good shape.

Really, it’s true. I’m strong as an ox mentally and emotionally, which is a pretty awesome feeling, but when it comes to physical strength I’m a big old wuss. I’m soft. I’m squishy. I don’t want to be a rock, I just don’t want to be so jiggly. I’d also like my pants from 2 years ago to fit. Right now they don’t. I can almost hear them screaming on the rare occasion on which I temporarily liberate them from the dark depths of the closet to see if they can stretch over my expanded backside without popping every strained stitch that holds them together.

I didn’t obsess about my weight before the wedding. I refused to get sucked into the whole I-must-look-perfect-in-those-pictures mentality. I knew I’d look as pretty as possible and that would be that. What was more important was how I felt – and I felt great… mentally and emotionally. Physically I felt OK, but now it’s time to bump that up a notch. I would have felt better without the handful of pictures that hinted at back fat and/or multiple chins.

Over the weekend my darling husband and I were talking about fitness and weight and all sorts of fun subjects and I mentioned that many of my friends who went on strict exercise and diet regimes before their weddings ended up gaining fairly significant amounts of weight post-nuptuals. Most of the time it was because they slowed down enough after their weddings to enjoy their new spouse and get comfy… which leads to some weight gain. We, on the other hand, started our progressive addition of 15-20 lbs each about 6 months into our relationship when we moved in together. He says that since then we’ve “maintained a slight chub”. He’s right.

It’s time to banish the slight chub. Those pants deserve to see the light of day once more.

New things

I sat at my new desk today. Well, my new-to-me desk. I used my new computer today. I got various new gadgets that help me do my job. All those things are cool and they're fun for me because they're part of this new gig I've got and that's all well and good. But, those things aren't the best new things of the day.

The best new thing of the day is my new email address. Why? It's my new name. I have a new email with my new name. They novelty of it makes me grin from ear to ear.

RANDOM: I have perfected the art of the fish taco. Tonight we had a friend over for dinner and the fish tacos I made truly were outstanding. I make one hell of a chipotle cream! No, this photo is not of said fish tacos... mine were prettier.

A Melissa by any other name would smell as sweet

Tomorrow is a big day. A day that will live in infamy. One that will go down in the annals of history as a day of changing tides and monumental shifts.

Tomorrow I will go to the Social Security Administration office to process my name change.

I've always said I'm not very attached to my last name. I'm a *Melissa's Last Name* in name only, I'm much more like my mom's side of the family anyway. I'm spunky like them, sarcastic like them, loyal like them. If I could have chosen my last name at birth I'd have chosen my mom's maiden name.

I digress...

I've known since Matthew and I met that when we got married I'd take his name. To me it's a unified front sort of thing. We're in this together. We're a team. We're going to have a family and our kids will have the same last name as us. No hyphenation, no mom has one last name and dad has another. When our kids are old enough to have school friends and they come over, they'll know that I'm Mrs. So-and-so (even though I really have a problem with kids calling me by anything other than my first name) and Matthew is Mr. So-and-so. None of this, "Hmm, what is Little Johhny's mom's last name again?" It's just not for me.

So, tomorrow I'll head to the Brooklyn Social Security Card Center (yes, there are so many of us in the NYC area that need cards [replacement, new, name change, etc.] that we can't all go to the regular SSA office, we have to go to a specific card office). I'll wait in line, however long it takes, and I'll change my name. Uncle Sam will have all the current info for which to track me and unlawfully spy on me. Woot!

Ball & Chain

I love being married. It's new. It feels great. There's this sense of wonder that accompanies my newly married status. My relationship with my now husband hasn't really changed. We were living together before. We were totally committed to each other. We planned on a future together that includes kids and the whole nine yards. We are each other's family. Getting married didn't make a difference in the way we see each other or treat each other.

But something is different. Something is more important. Seems like there's this part of us that is officially "in it" now. It's strange. I used to think getting married wasn't a necessary part of life for me. I didn't think that the piece of paper with the state seal on it made much of a difference if the commitment was already there.

But then I married my husband. I married him and realized that this is what I wanted all along. It's an amazing feeling.

Grey Monday

(Matthew did a marvelous job with the photo I took of an old clock in Paris)

If I'm being honest (yes, that was a Simon Cowell reference) I'll say that today I'm a little bummed out. Today is just a day. Just a Monday. It's raining. It's cold. This kind of damp cold sets into my bones and chills me through until the next warm day appears.

This plain, rainy Monday holds none of the giddy anticipation of the wedding planning days. It doesn't have the buzz of the Monday we left for our honeymoon. We're not setting out for Berlin's Checkpoint Charlie tomorrow. Nothing. Today is simply today.

How is it that before the wedding that was good enough and now it seems so lackluster? I think this is what people mean when they talk about the post-wedding blues.

Silly if you think about it. I'm getting blue because I feel like there's no big something looming on my horizon to look forward to. I know that every day can't be my wedding day, and to wish it were is preposterous. Still, that doesn't stop a small part of me from longing for that excitement again. That small part is big enough to hold sway on my moon on a rainy, plain Monday.

I have much to be thankful for. I have the most loving husband and the best friends I could conjure up. Plus, "all signs point to yes" for my chances of getting an offer for the job I had a second interview for today. Those are all wonderful, bright, shining things. I'm glad to have them.

But, today is still a rainy Monday in the end. So, when my husband comes home I'll open a bottle of champagne and we'll dance around the kitchen and pretend that it's the end of a very exciting day. He's my fairytale prince, afterall. No harm in a little make-believe.

Ego = reason to know good photogs

Here is what I've learned: if you want to make yourself feel really good, just hire a pro! Our photographers for the wedding were so damn good, I can't tell you how much I appreciate them. They made me feel beautiful all day long. I mean, I clean up nice and all, but I don't look like a model. These photos make me feel like one, though. I can look back at these when I'm 80 and wrinkled to bits and remember how vibrant I looked and felt on my wedding day. I married the most amazing man I know and we both looked smashing. Everyone looked smashing. We honestly had the most beautiful wedding in every way. In look, in sentiment, in the vibe of the room, everything was filled with a beauty I didn't expect.

The most spectacular library you could imagine. These are our nearest and dearest... they call came together for us and thinking back on it makes my eyes tear up. People came from all over just for us. Amazing.

Listening to the toasts given by our best man and maid of honor. To say we were grateful and touched more deeply than we ever thought possible would still leave room for more praise for those 2 wonderful people.

P.S. I did my hair & makeup in 30 minutes. I was pretty proud of myself.

Recap

Honeymoon recap in photos:

Voltaire is buried in here. Victor Hugo, too. Both Curies. Even on our honeymoon we soak in the history of wherever we are. Lucky for us, Paris is chock full of it.

My husband is a goofball. How do you say "goofball" in French? J'adore mon goofball.

Saint Wenceslas (of Christmas carol fame) has many things named after him in Prague. One of those things is the cafe we had breakfast at twice (yes, beer with breakfast is totally normal, apparently). Here's the Saint himself. He went to high school in Madison, Wisconsin and was a very nice kid.

We got a ticket on the subway from a mean inspector in Prague.

We don't care. We go to Berlin tomorrow!

Train to Berlin from Prague. The guy in the dining car gave me a bottle of champagne when I told him we were on our honeymoon. Very sweet man. Everyone here is so kind.

Even in Berlin (the home of the Berliner - jellydoughnut) there are American fatty food joints. I had to eat a heart shaped donut. I mean, it was my patriotic duty. Wasn't it?

Happy couple. Happy married couple. Matthew refers to me as "wife" a lot. It's rather disgustingly cute.

We love the biergarten near the Berlin Zoo. The best schnitzel and the best beer! You know you've got a huge meal when the plate makes you look skinny. It's accessible only by bike or foot. There are colored lights strung above the tables. The communal tables lead to fun and interesting conversation and the locals don't seem to mind helping us with our pathetic lack of German language skills.

2 pairs of American feet standing where the Berlin wall once stood. Right here a wall was put up that separated families from their loved ones, employees from their employers, friends from friends... freedom died here, and was later resurrected in the same spot. If that doesn't make you think and appreciate your life I don't know what will.

Buried in history

The Germans have a way of acknowledging history that is blunt, honest, and factual. It's noticeable and respectable. They don't tiptoe around topics that are sensitive. They don't craft their words in a way that is condescending or flowery.

Example: the Monument to the Murdered Jews of Europe (the Holocaust memorial). It is a carefully designed full city block in a very desirable section of Berlin. This is high-priced real estate and the city decided that was the appropriate place for a memorial. That's pretty amazing.

It resembles a cemetery on undulating ground. Large, smooth cement blocks arranged in rows. It looks sort of like a cemetery that's floating on gently waving water. It's haunting and beautiful.

Guten tag !

So, here we are in Berlin. We've been to Paris and Prague and then made our way to Germany. What a trip. We had mostly clouds and rain in the 2 Ps, but so far Berlin has been nothing but sunshine and lovliness (so much sunshine and lovliness, in fact, that woefully white Melissa is now pink with sunburn).

I'm not used to the German keyboard in this internet cafe (letters in different spots and lots of corrections needed on my part), so I'm just posting quickly to say hello and let everyone know I' alive and well. I'm having the time of my life with Matthew. We've been married for 11 days now. Woot!

P.S. There isn't much that's funnier than hearing the song 'Forever Young' by Alphaville in a second hand clothing shop in West Berlin. That made my morning today.

schürfste

Travel blunder of the day: booking a hotel in Berlin for incorrect dates.

We decided to go back to the hotel yesterday afternoon so Matthew could read up on Berlin and I could take a nap. I just had laid down and curled up when I heard Matthew say in a slightly concerned tone, "Uh, baby? What's the date today?"

I sat straight up. The only reason he'd be asking me about the date is if he realized I made a reservation for the wrong day. Since we were getting the early train to Berlin the next morning I knew I should be concerned. "Uh, it's the 4th."

"OK, that's what I thought. Honey, you booked the hotel for 5/6 instead of 5/5."

Shit!

Luckily, one quick phone call to the nicest German dude ever and it was all cleared up. He switched some bookings and got us a different room for the nights we needed. This hotel is the best! Friendliest staff ever and the coolest rooms. Location couldn't be more perfect and all for only 80 euro a night! And yes, those are 16' ceilings and huge windows.

It's time for Berlin

Today we decided to take the subway to see how real Czechs get around the city. We like to experience the places we go as authentically as possible. Sounds like a good idea, right?

Wrong. It resulted in a 700 crown ticket for each of us. That's about $85. Long story. Bottom line is this: if you ride the trains in Prague, make sure you get a stamp from the obscure looking green box after you buy your ticket. Without that stamp, regardless of whether you have paid the right amount of money, you can get a ticket from the eerily communist looking inspector.

We're so happy to be going to Berlin in the morning.

Prosim = please

Prague is mobbed. The whole universe is vacationing here this weekend. Every street is crowded beyond capacity. Every site is crammed with people. I think half of Germany is here. Let me say something snarky - Hey Germans, stop being such dicks! You cannot take up an entire sidewalk and act like you don't see someone who needs to get past you and your schnitzel-eating fat ass. What is it with Germans and awful tourist manners? And English, don't get so bloody drunk that you stumble, trip on the cobblestones, then create a pile of idiots groaning about whatever football team you're into in the middle of New Town Square. Stag weekends are not excuses for foolish and offensive behavior in a foreign country simply because you can afford the beer here.

The beer here is remarkably good. People drink it with breakfast, and no, I am not kidding at all. We had one with eggs this morning and we'll probably have another 2 with lunch. Pivo, prosim!



That being said, Americans, can you please learn some Czech before you fly all the way over here? Please, thank you, excuse me, good day.... those are not literary marvels that can only be mastered by a linguist. It takes only a moment to utter a phrase in Czech and it makes the biggest difference to the people who live in the city you've just invaded. So far, you Americans haven't been an embarrassment. I've been pleasantly surprised, I must say. But this language thing is irritating. Just learn a few words, ask a local how to say something - then say that same thing to the next person you talk to. It's brought a smile to the faces of everyone I've spoken to so far.

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.