Archives of Our Lives

{The following conversation took place earlier tonight on my way home from seeing “Nancy Drew” at the $2.00 theatre with my grandma.}

Me: Well thanks, Grandma. I had a really good time!
Grandma: Oh, thank you for coming. That was fun. I haven’t seen a movie in a theatre since “Sound of Music” [I think she was serious about this, but I am not sure…]
Me: Really?
Grandma: Yes–would you like to go to Dairy Queen?
Me: (Thinking, “I need to lose weight for my wedding pictures. Of course I can’t go to Dairy Queen. Then again, when was the last time Grandma and I went through the drive-thru at Dairy Queen? Not since I was in 6th grade at Lincoln Elementary School–it was always a good day when Grandma had to pick us up from school, because she liked to stop at the Dairy Queen. That was before I knew what calories were… I’m getting married in 40 days. How many more chances will I have to do this with Grandma? Pretty soon, I will only be a visitor at her house, instead of a regular occurrence. Of course we should go to Dairy Queen.”) Sure, Grandma!

I’m only ashamed it took me so long to decide on driving through that old familiar drive-thru…I think my priorities have gotten a little skewed lately. Glad we got them straightened.

*Preface* Back when I was driving for Jason’s Deli, I spent a lot of time listening to the radio in my car (since I am too cheap to buy a transmitter for my iPod). Every time “Sweet Escape” by Gwen Stefani would play on the radio, I noticed my mood would instantly improve. Such a great melody, such awesome background singers…a catchy tune all in all.

*Face* So a few days ago I was driving, running some wedding errands and trying for all the world to keep my head from exploding. [I think it was about the time I got stood up for my wedding dress fitting.] Kyle was met with the unfortunate fate of calling me at just that moment. The ensuing conversation about something very minor, like Diet Dr. Pepper, nevertheless resulted in me snapping, “Why are you marrying me? Do you even love me?!” Yeah. Bad. I know.

And Kyle is such a diligent guy, too. He doesn’t deserve that. Just tonight, he stayed awake scanning almost a hundred photographs of himself to burn onto a CD so we can make a wedding slideshow, but the real reason he did it was because he does, in fact, love me. (Well, that, and because he wanted me to stop nagging him.)

Anyway, even before I hung up the phone during my tirade, I felt guilty for taking out my already-petty frustrations on my innocent fiancee. A while later, “Sweet Escape” came on the radio, and I took the time to listen to the words instead of just the easygoing tune. Keep in mind that not all the lyrics apply to our relationship, [i.e. “Times getting a little crazy, I’m waiting for you to come save me.” I would never do that], but a lot of the words deserve some recognition. Here are a few of the lines that match Kyle and me almost exactly {tweaked by me to perfection [and for slightly better grammar]}:

“If I could {elope},
I would, but first of all let me say
I must apologize for acting, stinking, treating you this way
Cause I’ve been acting like sour milk fell on the floor
It’s your fault you didn’t shut the refrigerator
Maybe that’s the reason I’ve been acting so cold

If I could {elope}
And re-create a place of our own world
And I could be your favorite {and only} girl
For {time and all eternity}, perfectly together
Tell me boy, now wouldn’t that be sweet?

If I could be sweet {highly unlikely, but still…}
I know I’ve been a real {snappy} girl
I didn’t mean for you to get {in the way of my grouchiness}
Forever, we can make it better
Tell me boy, Now wouldn’t that be sweet?
Sweet escape..

You {came around}
At my lowest boiling point
Come {to Arizona and} help me out {of this pre-wedding nightmare}
I need to get {myself} out of this joint
Come on, let’s bounce {? I don’t know what that means but I think I should have changed it…}
Counting on you to turn me around
Instead of clowning around let’s look for some common ground…

Etc. etc. etc. (Real lyrics may be found at completeablumlyrics.com.)

*Postface* Anyway, so there’s a shout-out to my Dear One. Hope this is not too embarrassing for him, but at the same time, I kind of don’t…

What do you do when bad things happen for no apparent reason?

I’ll tell you what I do. I try to place blame. I know it’s awful and lousy of me, and there is no good excuse for such irresponsible behaviour. I do it, though, because it makes me feel more at-ease to know that someone, somewhere made a mistake. Someone dropped the ball. Not I, of course, but…someone. I would be an horrible politician because I would probably always try to blame other people for my own errors.

In my defense, I would like to think I am a good person. I try so very hard not to be Bridezilla. But my wedding suppliers have repeatedly let me down this week, and it is taking its toll on my nice-lady facade. The first time my seamstress (who is making my wedding dress from scratch, without a pattern or anything) stood me up for a fitting, I was very sweet and understanding. “She’s probably been really busy,” I thought innocently. The second time, I was a bit more nervous, but never said anything bitter or caustic. If it happens tomorrow and I go down to the wedding dress shop with no wedding dress to greet me, I am quite sure I will morph into a to-be-wed monster of unimaginable proportions. And I can’t even begin to guess what will happen to me if there is a dress but it’s ugly.

I don’t think I would be so testy lately, if not for the fact that the printers goofed up on my 800 (yes, eight hundred) announcements in between my two no-show appointments with(out) my seamstress. Again, because I am a lover, not an hater, I have been very cooperative about the entire issue. But I am not happy. Not in the least. And I have a wedding budget to work with here. If justice is not mine–and in a timely manner–then this nice wholesome lady…

Could very easily become something more monstrous, like this crazed person:

Well it’s happened. I have spent my whole life trying to avoid this, but it’s come and gone and it’s far too late to do anything about it. I’ve turned into a crazy person.

How did I let it come to this? How did I get to the point where my head feels like it’s going to explode [and this on a daily basis, not just once a month like some women]. I actually have been daydreaming about what it would be like to have my head explode. I don’t think it would be gruesome, like one might suppose. If my head exploded, I’m pretty sure the entire room would fill with tangible chaos, in the form of miniature cuckoo-clock birds. They’d all still be attached to my brain stem by varying lengths of springs, so that they could bounce around and try to free themselves of the House of Horrors that is my head, but would invariably fly right back to the root of their confines. In their quest for freedom (and a newer, sounder mind to occupy), there’s no doubt that these frenzied creatures would ricochet off of every solid surface, like some sort of eternal flying wind-up cars. And of course there would be wacky coloured spirals and sound effects, rivaled in bizarreness only by Roger Rabbit’s “boings!” and “bongs!” in ToonTown, USA.

All this because I am trying to plan a wedding. If I hadn’t already lost my mind, it would have told me long ago to do the smart thing, and elope.

It…is…here. And not a moment too soon. The month we have all been waiting for. The month to begin all the goodness that will come throughout the year. September is here, in all its nearly-autumn glory.

According to Wikipedia, September is the best month of the year. Here’s why:

1. September is Library Card Sign-Up Month.
2. September is such a peaceful, hopeful month that it brought about the end of WWII.
3. All around the world, countries honour their geriatrics in September. Japan has “Respect for the Aged Day,” and the less-pretentious North American countries acknowledge “National Grandparents’ Day.”
4. September marks the United States’ Hispanic Heritage Month. [I totally support this, for the record.]
5. The Netherlander Government presents its national budget to Her Majesty the Netherlands’s Queen this month.

All very good things indeed.

And in case you were wondering, Kyle and I did decide on a photo:

With a few slight modifications (i.e. cropping out the arm of the sofa and darkening the background a bit), this was our favourite, along with eight other pollsters (who, I have a feeling, were probably all Kyle. He is notorious for rigging the votes).

“Mark my words,” Adell said portentously when she heard the news, “you will regret this choice for the rest of your life.”

Maybe. But probably not. [Although, I did tell Adell she would regret dying her hair blond for her engagement photos and wedding day, and sure enough, three years later, she feels a great deal of hair-do remorse. I might do the same.]

But I meant it when I wrote, “probably not.” Let it be known that I am aware my hair is funky on my back in photo 3. We already tried to PhotoShop it, to no success. Oh, well. And I am aware (tremendously) that this photo is tres informal and taken on a couch, but you know what? I love that couch. And Kyle looks happy in photo 3, and me–well, I’m just trying to get through the next 50 days without metamorphosing into Bridezilla. Give me some credit.

My day started out well enough, with me taking the opportunity to enter my very first Blogger Giveaway. A person I e-stalk, Loralee, is holding a contest to name a stuffed chicken, and I entered a fabulous name [Stalwart P.]. The person who enters the best name will get a $15 gift certificate to Amazon.com, and I was sure to win with such a rad name. Things were off to a winning start.

Then I went to work at my bad job which is always a test of my sanity. Bad. Then I got $50 in tips in under four hours. Good. Then I spent lots of money on scrapbooking supplies for my wedding album/guest book. Bad. Then I came home exhausted and tried calling every friend I had to come love me. They were all busy. Bad again. Then my mom and I had a joint nervous breakdown together over our broken dishwasher, worthless microwave, dead dog, summer heat, and the month of August as a whole. Uber bad. Then I decided that even though nobody had time for me, I would still go register for our wedding at Target. Good in theory. Then I got to Target and realised that, without a fiancee by one’s side–or a big sister, or a maid of honour, or a best friend, or anyone–registering for one’s wedding gifts is…lonely. I was lonely at my favourite place in the country. Bad. Then things took a turn for the better when I went to visit a dear friend from high school. Good. Then she told me how when I get married, I will endure the pain of sex, pregnancy, weight gain, labor, post-partum, child-rearing, empty-nest syndrome, and menopause, and then…I will die. Very bad indeed. {Enter nervous breakdown #2. } Top it all off with a day full of self-conscious nigglings about being uglier and fatter than one’s fiancee’s ex-girlfriends, and it makes for a generally bad day overall. I broke out in hives. So there you have it. The Good, the Bad, and the Nervous Breakdowns.

To all who care and have commented on the engagement photos, thank you!! It means a lot to me, really. I am interested in what people think, and I appreciate the feedback. Results of the photo poll will follow soon…