Last Saturday night Cody and I went and watched the movie “Date Night” with Steve Carell and Tina Fey. I was a bit skeptical at first (often I think comedies are just stupid instead of funny) but was pleasantly surprised at how much I liked the movie. The movie was based off of a couple (Steve Carell and Tina Fey) and their trials of being married with children and jobs and way too much to do to focus on their relationship with one another. I couldn’t help but feel like the movie was screaming at me (and Cody for that matter) with all of the parallels I could make between the movie and my life recently.
Tina Fey in the movie is an overly controlling, “I’d rather do it myself,” stop wasting my time, I have too much to do type of wife/mother. Steve Carell played a completely capable, likable, yet somewhat irresponsible and goofy character. This combination of characters made me feel like the movie was based off of our life recently. With this wedding mess, I have been in event planning mode for the past 6 months. I have no extra time. It makes me angry when people waste my time. And I want everyone around me to recognize the efficiency with which I have to work to accomplish this grand idea I have in my mind. Unfortunately, I feel like Cody is often the person I am dealing with who I feel like is wasting my time. Cody does not live his life based off of concrete deadlines. He has goals, but they are somewhat flexible goals and goals that deal with only himself generally. He doesn’t worry with details or being precise. He always just meanders into success, while I have to plot a path, calculate the wind resistance, call ahead to ensure the finish line is in the exact spot I have listed, and maintain a focus and persistence that the other competitors often mistake for me being rude and cold.
I don’t know the solution to this problem. Cody and I work differently and yet are both very successful with the ways we work. Neither of us is going to change the way we do things, although I do try to remind myself that Cody does not frustrate me on purpose. I know I should allow Cody an opportunity to do things right, but it is so hard for me to do that. I am the queen of doing it myself because I know you won’t do it correctly. I’ve been like that all of my life. Unfortunately, Cody and I find our relationship somewhat strained at times of extreme stress (AKA wedding planning) because we are so different.
This has really started bothering me ever since the Hollywood happy ending of “Date Night” where Tina and Steve find their way back to the reasons why they are together. If there is ever a time to focus on the good in someone else, it is while you’re engaged to them! So, I have decided to start focusing on all of the good that is Cody Prater because there was a point in time when all I knew of Cody was the loveable, funny, caring, sensitive, insightful, perfect guy that I met 5ish years ago. I am trying to find my way back to the beginning of our relationship before I knew that Cody was the most unorganized, scatter-brained, un-detail oriented human on the face of the earth. I want to go back to month 2 of staying up until 4 in the morning talking about the things in life that really matter, rather than the schedule for the next day. I want to go back to month 6 when he made me a video that proved to me he paid attention to what matters. I want to go back to swimming in fountains and traveling to new places and graduating from college and being perfectly in love with one another. I feel like life has gotten in the way of me living.
I will fix this before June 19th because I realize that this is THE moment that Cody and I need to be at the height of happiness. And I will not let details and deadlines control my wedding experience. This is my new goal. And I am an exceptional goal accomplisher.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
Fatal Flaw
Preface
Student 1: "What's your name going to be after you're married?"
Me: "Coach Prater"
Student 2: "I'm still going to call you Schrodt."
Me: "That's fine."
Student 1: "You can't call her Schrodt anymore because after she gets married, she'll belong to her husband."
Me: (with head shaking and a look of disbelief) Silence.
In literature, heroes of stories generally have what is termed a "fatal flaw." In other words, the one characteristic that ultimately leads to his/her downfall or at least causes them numerous problems. Every time I think of Odysseus or Caesar or any other famous character, I can't help but wonder what would be my fatal flaw. I assume each of you reading this can probably think of numerous options, but it has taken me planning a wedding to finally pinpoint my issue.
I am proud. I am cocky. I think I am better than you. I think I will win at everything. I have unrealistic expectations about the world around me, because I am certain I can do anything better than you. I am your stereotypical alpha human who cannot understand her own shortcomings. I have come to this conclusion through a couple of different wedding events, the main one being the name game.
As part of our wedding, we are going to have a friend of ours make t-shirts for all of the wedding party. They are going to be much like a jersey (imagine that, here I am back to competing) with numbers and last names on the back. I immediately knew what number I wanted (my number from high school) and logically wrote down "Schrodt" as the name that should go on the back. It took me around 3 days to realize that the shirt that I create in honor of my wedding should probably have my NEW last name on the back, rather than my current last name. Why is this so hard for me to get? Why am I not giddy at the thought of being Mrs. Cody Prater? Why do I not practice writing my new name? Why do I not want to change my name? Because I think my name is worth something...
I am slowly trying to come to peace with the idea that changing my name is not my submission to a man or society for that matter. I know that Cody is not one of those men that bosses a woman around and expects her to answer to him. I know that hyphenating or not changing my name will only perpetuate the "she thinks she's something else" attitude that I am certain some people have about me. I know this is something that 9 out of 10 women do without hesitation. I know that years from now I won't blink an eye at Katy Prater. But for now, I am saddened at the end of an era. I can't help but want to hold on to Katy Schrodt for as long as I can. I want to revel in the difficulty of it's spelling and the ridiculousness of the nicknames it opened doors to (Scrotum) and the constant mispronunciation I have encountered for years. My name will come with me to married life. Perhaps I will not sign it or say it or introduce myself twice because no one can understand it the first time, but deep inside I will always hear the magical chant of "Schrodt, Schrodt, Schrodt" and think back to a simpler, less chaotic time in life when I had only one (actually 4, dang it) name to go by.
Student 1: "What's your name going to be after you're married?"
Me: "Coach Prater"
Student 2: "I'm still going to call you Schrodt."
Me: "That's fine."
Student 1: "You can't call her Schrodt anymore because after she gets married, she'll belong to her husband."
Me: (with head shaking and a look of disbelief) Silence.
In literature, heroes of stories generally have what is termed a "fatal flaw." In other words, the one characteristic that ultimately leads to his/her downfall or at least causes them numerous problems. Every time I think of Odysseus or Caesar or any other famous character, I can't help but wonder what would be my fatal flaw. I assume each of you reading this can probably think of numerous options, but it has taken me planning a wedding to finally pinpoint my issue.
I am proud. I am cocky. I think I am better than you. I think I will win at everything. I have unrealistic expectations about the world around me, because I am certain I can do anything better than you. I am your stereotypical alpha human who cannot understand her own shortcomings. I have come to this conclusion through a couple of different wedding events, the main one being the name game.
As part of our wedding, we are going to have a friend of ours make t-shirts for all of the wedding party. They are going to be much like a jersey (imagine that, here I am back to competing) with numbers and last names on the back. I immediately knew what number I wanted (my number from high school) and logically wrote down "Schrodt" as the name that should go on the back. It took me around 3 days to realize that the shirt that I create in honor of my wedding should probably have my NEW last name on the back, rather than my current last name. Why is this so hard for me to get? Why am I not giddy at the thought of being Mrs. Cody Prater? Why do I not practice writing my new name? Why do I not want to change my name? Because I think my name is worth something...
I am slowly trying to come to peace with the idea that changing my name is not my submission to a man or society for that matter. I know that Cody is not one of those men that bosses a woman around and expects her to answer to him. I know that hyphenating or not changing my name will only perpetuate the "she thinks she's something else" attitude that I am certain some people have about me. I know this is something that 9 out of 10 women do without hesitation. I know that years from now I won't blink an eye at Katy Prater. But for now, I am saddened at the end of an era. I can't help but want to hold on to Katy Schrodt for as long as I can. I want to revel in the difficulty of it's spelling and the ridiculousness of the nicknames it opened doors to (Scrotum) and the constant mispronunciation I have encountered for years. My name will come with me to married life. Perhaps I will not sign it or say it or introduce myself twice because no one can understand it the first time, but deep inside I will always hear the magical chant of "Schrodt, Schrodt, Schrodt" and think back to a simpler, less chaotic time in life when I had only one (actually 4, dang it) name to go by.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
"New Lala's"
For Easter, my family and I went to my grandmother's house as we do every Easter. My uncle recently married a woman who is different than the general Schrodt personality, but someone we all like a lot nonetheless. After dinner my mother, my new aunt (I've known her maybe 6 months) and myself decided to walk around the block. We began talking about wedding stuff and eventually found our way to the topic of wedding showers (a wedding tradition I don't get too excited about). We told her the date for the shower we are having for family and friends and she then asked me if I was going to have a personal shower. I immediately began dancing around the question because 1. I don't know for sure when or where or what kind of personal shower I will have and 2. I think it's an awkward event to discuss with my mother and a woman who I don't know too terribly well. However, in true non-Schrodt fashion my aunt went on to say that I must have a personal shower because I have to get some "new lala's." Gulp. Did you just say new lala's? To me? In front of my mother? Oh weddings, you exhaust me.
Mind you, still today I am not exactly sure what "new lala's" are. My sexual ignorance has cropped up at numerous points among this planning adventure and occasionally makes for an awkward encounter amongst people who make assumptions about Cody and me. I responded to my aunt with some casual response about ironing out those plans closer to the wedding, when I wanted to explain to her that I don't need NEW lala's, I think I need lala's in general. Even recounting this story makes me uncomfortable.
This experience with my aunt made me even less excited about the shower portion of a wedding. The normal family and friends shower with blenders as gifts will be painful enough. But the execution of a personal shower will be quite the feat to pull off without the most ridiculous amount of uncomfortable lala comments.
Who wants a personal shower anyway? Who came up with the idea of getting numerous women together (a lot of which I don't talk to on a daily basis about anything, much less lala's) to give someone stuff to wear (or not wear) while having sex? WHAT?!?!? So weird. I went to a personal shower once that was without a doubt one of the most painful experiences of my life. The group of people who were at this thing did not know each other well enough to sit and discuss someone else's sex life. The bride responded to each opening of lingere with the same somewhat overwhelmed faked excitement. We all tried to come up with something to talk about with the large penis cake in the room acting as the enormous elephant none of us knew how to overcome to socialize like normal adults. It was awful. It was weird. It was so weird that months later I still am scared of a personal shower. If I want sexy lingere, I will get myself lingere. If I want massage lotions, I can also get that. And if I want nipple tassles, I will disguise myself and find my way to the adult superstore and purchase those nipple tassles on my own.
I have hit the point where the events of this wedding are exhausting me. I don't want new lala's. And I'm probably not the bow type. Wearing a wedding dress is probably going to be a pretty big stretch for me. At some point, I wonder where you draw the line and decide the traditional things that people do, don't have to be the things that you do. Getting my lala's in the first place will be complicated enough. I need the lala's everyone else assumes I have before I can imagine getting creative with them.
Mind you, still today I am not exactly sure what "new lala's" are. My sexual ignorance has cropped up at numerous points among this planning adventure and occasionally makes for an awkward encounter amongst people who make assumptions about Cody and me. I responded to my aunt with some casual response about ironing out those plans closer to the wedding, when I wanted to explain to her that I don't need NEW lala's, I think I need lala's in general. Even recounting this story makes me uncomfortable.
This experience with my aunt made me even less excited about the shower portion of a wedding. The normal family and friends shower with blenders as gifts will be painful enough. But the execution of a personal shower will be quite the feat to pull off without the most ridiculous amount of uncomfortable lala comments.
Who wants a personal shower anyway? Who came up with the idea of getting numerous women together (a lot of which I don't talk to on a daily basis about anything, much less lala's) to give someone stuff to wear (or not wear) while having sex? WHAT?!?!? So weird. I went to a personal shower once that was without a doubt one of the most painful experiences of my life. The group of people who were at this thing did not know each other well enough to sit and discuss someone else's sex life. The bride responded to each opening of lingere with the same somewhat overwhelmed faked excitement. We all tried to come up with something to talk about with the large penis cake in the room acting as the enormous elephant none of us knew how to overcome to socialize like normal adults. It was awful. It was weird. It was so weird that months later I still am scared of a personal shower. If I want sexy lingere, I will get myself lingere. If I want massage lotions, I can also get that. And if I want nipple tassles, I will disguise myself and find my way to the adult superstore and purchase those nipple tassles on my own.
I have hit the point where the events of this wedding are exhausting me. I don't want new lala's. And I'm probably not the bow type. Wearing a wedding dress is probably going to be a pretty big stretch for me. At some point, I wonder where you draw the line and decide the traditional things that people do, don't have to be the things that you do. Getting my lala's in the first place will be complicated enough. I need the lala's everyone else assumes I have before I can imagine getting creative with them.
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