A little glimpse at a recently hired 21 year old English teacher staring her last few days of summer before her first year teaching in the cold, scary, acne infested, adolescent face...in other words, I found this in a notebook that I was writing in on July 2, 2008. It's a little depressing, somewhat laughable, and a little ironic in light of my current situation.
"I got a job. A real 9-5, go everyday, on salary with benefits (I don't actually have benefits now which makes this even funnier. At the time I assumed all under paid educators in America at least got insurance. Ha.) adult, real world, childhood is over forever, your life will never be fun again, job. I didn't want a job. I got a job because that's what you do after college if you don't go to grad school of some other more interesting alternative. I took the boring, not worth talking about route...It seems so boring and routine. It's like once you enter the working world you don't ever make it back to the spontaneous world you lived in before. I chalk the job up to peer pressure. Everyone else got one. Why wouldn't I? What throws my job into an even less notable category is that I'm going to teach. It seems so weird. Why would I teach? How did I get to this point? How did I devote 4 years of my life to become a teacher? I don't really feel like I am the person I used to be. This is a logical thought when you consider the maturation process that is college. However, I think the version of myself 4 years ago was a lot cooler. I feel so average. I hate the thought of being average. Average is the first step toward failure. Nonetheless, I got a job...Three years later Cody and I are still together. I have no more clarification or definition of us than I had at the beginning of this. Things are not the way they used to be. He's a great guy, but he still feels so far from what I expected. But now I can't remember what I expected. I don't know how you know if a relationship is the way it is simply because that's the natural process of how two people in love change or if you lost something completely necessary to happiness. I contend that there are moments when this makes sense to me. When I stop overthinking and just let it be. I hear so many philosophies on love and marriage and happiness. I don't know which ones I agree with. This is what I know: Cody is a good and decent person, Cody has a genuine heart, he's never done anything negative worth mentioning, and he claims he loves me. I sometimes wait for it to end. I brace myself for some catastrophic ending to him and me. I wonder if he loves me the way you're supposed to love the person you spend your life with. There must be something worth maintaining considering we've lasted this long. He is mine. I am his. For now. It's been one interesting experience regardless of what happens outside the utopia that is college. I don't want college to be over. However, even if I stayed, it wouldn't be the same. There's a time limit on something as cool as this. If it lasted forever, it wouldn't be worth missing. Missing something is part of the appeal I've learned. Everytime I don't think I care I realize I do. When I tell myself it wouldn't hurt, it does. When I try not to cry, I do. Maybe that's when you know it's love. When it hurts so bad, but you come crawling back each time."
The other night Cody and I went and looked at the new dorms at UA Fort Smith. We walked our 24 year old bodies into a world of freshmen. We snuck into a door that we didn't have the key to. We peered in windows of rooms we will never live in. We spent some time on a campus that is no longer our campus. As we drove away with the belltower shining through the moon roof, I realized it is over. College is over. Not because we graduated. Not because we have a degree. It's over because we're not 18 anymore. The next day I walked into the halls of Lavaca High School and taught kids because I am an adult who is married to the guy I always wanted who I never wanted to admit was the one I wanted. I occasionally have these moments where all I want is the way things were. It's annoying and useless and a waste of time. But it takes a while to walk far enough away to no longer know you can't go back. Walking around The Lions' Den the other night was a good indicator that college is the new high school. I have walked far enough to understand it is no longer mine. I realized as I drove away with Cody that I need to focus on the irresistible apects of my present. One day I will be holding one child in my exhausted arms with another tugging annoyingly on my sleeve and I will think back to the days when Cody and I sat around with our dogs and did just about whatever we wanted. I will reminisce and think fondly upon this right here. I need to live in the now and less in the once was.
I hope the freshmen of The Lions' Den love college as much as I did. And I hope one day they look back so longingly on their experience. And for now, I will keep on walking.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Hello, my name is Adulthood, Adulthood Prater.
I was (note the past tense) so very impressed with myself throughout this entire wedding process for not overanalyzing every tiny detail of every experience. I didn't get caught up in the "I'm getting so old, my life is spinning out of control game" that I often times find myself in during times of immense change. I even handled the post-wedding reality set-in. I was very fortunate to have a summer as an educator to get married in that allowed the weeks after June 19th to be spent like Cody and I were 18 again. We watched movies all night, slept til noon, and did as little as we possibly could. Life for the past 6 weeksish has been pretty sweet.
However, as all times of stress free existence do, my summer of leisure has come to a screeching halt. I have found myself thrown into the tornado of "I'm old." I am currently mid-spin, eye of the storm (yes, I know that's a hurricane reference), hunker down in the bathtub with the mattress on top of you mode. I am overwhelmed.
This all began to strike me about the time I decided to turn 24 years old. Cody and I had some friends over for a birthday/housewarming celebration. We had a great time. Everything went well. But at some point during the night, I looked around the living room of my home filled with my couple friends (once you get old, you only hang out with couples) made eye contact with my husband smiled at my fur children and sipped my glass of wine and realized this isn't 2004 anymore.
My birthday was only the beginning of my turmoil. Here recently I have also been forced to go back to work. As a teacher I am faced with the perpetual label of Mrs. _______ or Coach ________ at all times. Even when students are not around, teachers still have a hard time socializing like the rest of Americans who call each other by their first names. The past few days I have been bombarded with "Hey, Coach Schro...oh wait, it's not Schrodt anymore. What is it now?" comments. I have had my mail box relabeled in the teacher's lounge. The name by my classroom door says Prater instead of Schrodt. I was forced to complete an assignment in alphabetical order as a "P." I have had every username I have ever possessed reset and thus compiled of something Prater related. IT IS EVERYWHERE!!! It's almost laughable. One of the women who consider not changing their name has had the name change process completed for her. I am officially Coach Prater. I get it.
The whole process is so weird. I literally feel like I have no idea where my life has gone. I had a professor in college who used to always remark on how difficult it is to turn a year older as a teacher but to come to work every day to kids who are always 15. They don't get old. They move on and you are reloaded with another group of kids in the exact same place as the ones you had before. I am faced with the innocence of adolescence on a daily basis. I am faced with the youthfulness that I have finally realized I no longer have like I used to. I am married. I am not 22. I am no longer Schrodt. And I am a little bit lost.
I need a minute to breathe...
And then I was reminded that often times in the midst of chaotic Katy mode there is often a light at the end of the tunnel. Here recently I have been blessed with a resolution to a mess that I have been reliving for about 6 years now. Something that simply didn't go the way I wanted it to go has been resolved for all to enjoy, most importantly me. I have recently been reminded by the most unlikely of candidates that "everything happens for a reason." Oddly enough, that same tidbit of advice was given to me by the person involved in my self-inflicted mess 6 years ago, but I simply didn't listen. I wasn't old enough to understand. This experience of restitution could only be appreciated by 24 year old Katy...Schrodt.
Maybe we all get old. Maybe we don't appreciate our youth while we've got it (I know, I know, I'm not that old). Maybe we make decisions that haunt us for 6 years. And maybe, you only get the resolution that you need when you're at a point in your life when you can accept it and appreciate it. Maybe there is more good in growing up than I can understand right now. All I do understand is there a certain renewal to one's spirit when you finally reach a point of catharsis. And in all the drama of the Prater wedding experience I have found comfort in something that happened to Katy Schrodt. Therefore, as Katy Prater I will carry forward my little nugget of wisdom I have received. Regardless of age or name, there are some good things that cannot be denied.
"when it's good, it'll feel like it should." - John Mayer
However, as all times of stress free existence do, my summer of leisure has come to a screeching halt. I have found myself thrown into the tornado of "I'm old." I am currently mid-spin, eye of the storm (yes, I know that's a hurricane reference), hunker down in the bathtub with the mattress on top of you mode. I am overwhelmed.
This all began to strike me about the time I decided to turn 24 years old. Cody and I had some friends over for a birthday/housewarming celebration. We had a great time. Everything went well. But at some point during the night, I looked around the living room of my home filled with my couple friends (once you get old, you only hang out with couples) made eye contact with my husband smiled at my fur children and sipped my glass of wine and realized this isn't 2004 anymore.
My birthday was only the beginning of my turmoil. Here recently I have also been forced to go back to work. As a teacher I am faced with the perpetual label of Mrs. _______ or Coach ________ at all times. Even when students are not around, teachers still have a hard time socializing like the rest of Americans who call each other by their first names. The past few days I have been bombarded with "Hey, Coach Schro...oh wait, it's not Schrodt anymore. What is it now?" comments. I have had my mail box relabeled in the teacher's lounge. The name by my classroom door says Prater instead of Schrodt. I was forced to complete an assignment in alphabetical order as a "P." I have had every username I have ever possessed reset and thus compiled of something Prater related. IT IS EVERYWHERE!!! It's almost laughable. One of the women who consider not changing their name has had the name change process completed for her. I am officially Coach Prater. I get it.
The whole process is so weird. I literally feel like I have no idea where my life has gone. I had a professor in college who used to always remark on how difficult it is to turn a year older as a teacher but to come to work every day to kids who are always 15. They don't get old. They move on and you are reloaded with another group of kids in the exact same place as the ones you had before. I am faced with the innocence of adolescence on a daily basis. I am faced with the youthfulness that I have finally realized I no longer have like I used to. I am married. I am not 22. I am no longer Schrodt. And I am a little bit lost.
I need a minute to breathe...
And then I was reminded that often times in the midst of chaotic Katy mode there is often a light at the end of the tunnel. Here recently I have been blessed with a resolution to a mess that I have been reliving for about 6 years now. Something that simply didn't go the way I wanted it to go has been resolved for all to enjoy, most importantly me. I have recently been reminded by the most unlikely of candidates that "everything happens for a reason." Oddly enough, that same tidbit of advice was given to me by the person involved in my self-inflicted mess 6 years ago, but I simply didn't listen. I wasn't old enough to understand. This experience of restitution could only be appreciated by 24 year old Katy...Schrodt.
Maybe we all get old. Maybe we don't appreciate our youth while we've got it (I know, I know, I'm not that old). Maybe we make decisions that haunt us for 6 years. And maybe, you only get the resolution that you need when you're at a point in your life when you can accept it and appreciate it. Maybe there is more good in growing up than I can understand right now. All I do understand is there a certain renewal to one's spirit when you finally reach a point of catharsis. And in all the drama of the Prater wedding experience I have found comfort in something that happened to Katy Schrodt. Therefore, as Katy Prater I will carry forward my little nugget of wisdom I have received. Regardless of age or name, there are some good things that cannot be denied.
"when it's good, it'll feel like it should." - John Mayer
Monday, July 19, 2010
Nagging Questions...
So, I still am not to a point where I feel like I have anything philosophical, or really anything interesting at all for that matter, to say about getting married. However, I have noticed an incessant few questions that are inevitably asked to me on a daily basis. I have decided that maybe if I answer them on this blog, a few people will get their much anticipated answers here rather than from interaction with me.
1. "How's married life?"
This is by far the most commonly asked question to me now. I'm not sure how long the interval of receiving this question lasts. 1 month, 6 months, 1 year?!? I honestly don't mind the question. I just feel like a real let down because I don't have a clever answer. I refuse to answer without sarcasm, and thus am left talking about how my life is the exact same before we were married. Here's my best shot at an answer: I have gained 9 pounds and slept more in the last month than I have in quite a while. I have cooked approximately 4 dinners and 2 breakfasts (0 lunches) in the past 4 weeks. I am not pregnant, nor do I want to be, and I like/love Cody about as much as I ever have. That is the update on married life. I don't know why I threw in the "I'm not pregnant" part. I just feel like everyone waits with baited breath for an offspring once you're married. Not. For. Me.
2. "How was the wedding?"
This is the most commonly asked question numero two (I considered writing "two" out in Spanish and then realized my English spelling skills are not bilingual). My answer is....wait for it...don't answer too quickly...don't seen too eager...you know she has something worth hearing....good. It was good. There were no enormous mishaps. Cody did not bail on me. No one tripped down the aisle. There were no fights. There were no largely embarrassing moments. It was good. Things did go wrong. I have seen the video and wished that I didn't look so uncomfortable in all of the fluff that is a wedding, but overall, it was fine. I was braced for a more traumatic experience than I received, so I consider myself lucky. As my wise mother has told me before, "Nothing is ever as bad or as good as you expect." My wedding proves this statement to be true.
3. "Has anything changed with you and Cody?"
This is generally the follow up question to number two, at which point I realize I am not getting out of this conversation without divulging some sort of uncomfortable personal information. Drumroll please....the answer is no. I generally make some convoluted reference about sex at which point everyone laughs. Other than that though, no. Things are not different. We have not fought yet (we didn't fight before we were married either). We have not done anything crazy. We have not changed every characteristic that makes up Cody and Katy. We are the same two people we were 4 weeks ago plus a marriage license and common living quarters. I realize not too exciting, but sufficient for me nonetheless.
4. "Would you do it again?"
This is a bit of a loaded question I think. Would I marry Cody again? Yes! Of course. I don't regret or second guess or worry about the actual union of people that was made official on June 19th. I am happy to be Cody's permanent (muhahahahaha) partner in crime. Now, would I get married in the same fashion as we did again? The jury is still out. I think I am still too close to my wedding to answer this fairly. I still remember all of the stress and anxiety and chaos that was created by the wedding. I often wonder if maybe running off with a few close friends and family would have been the better option. It is not that I didn't have a good time on my wedding day. There were plenty of shining moments that will inevitably stick with me for years to come. However, there are some moments that were not so shiny and down right hard to bear that are also still intact. I don't know the answer to this.
I figure it's like any coming-of-age, traditional, rite of passage sort of experience. While I sat on the football field of Southside High School sweating in my Rebel blue robe inbetween two kids I swear I'd never seen before with a graduation hat that made me feel even more conspicuous than I did as an almost 6 foot tall 17 year old, I did not understand why graduation was so important. However, as a 23 year old educator who cried at Lavaca's graduation last year, I can't help but look back fondly on that sweaty night in May. And maybe, just maybe, one day I will remember June 19, 2010 with nothing but good thoughts. Sometimes the years filter away the negativity that we (I) often allow to creep into our (my) present.
5. "What was your favorite moment of the wedding?"
This is not a really common question, but one that a few of my closer friends have asked me. I like this question, because it forces me to remember the good. I would have to say that I have a few favorite moments. Some are logical. Some are not. Precursor: I realize these next few sentences are cliche and lovey and dovey and some of you will roll your eyes. I would do the same thing if I were reading this somewhere else. Deal with it!
Favorite moment number one: walking down the aisle. I know, I know, I know. I can't believe she pulled out the walking down the aisle card. I did. However, my reasoning for liking this moment is not the conventional, "I finally got to see my handsome husband to be," reasoning. I had already seen Cody in a photographer induced creation of an aisle walking scene before the actual wedding. Honestly, I felt like it was a little bit awkward. It is hard for Cody and I to act like ourselves in tuxedoes and wedding dresses with a man taking pictures of us and various people walking through the church. However, the actual walk down the aisle was something I will remember with a smile. It was like the whole evolution of Katy and Cody getting married was finally over. I had my dad with me. I had my mom watching me. I had all of my family and friends and most everyone in this world that I love there for Cody and me. It meant a lot to me. It meant more than I guess I realized. Through all of the RSVP's and planning and hypothetical conversations about getting married, I could never grasp what it would really be like. It was bigger than I anticipated. It was right. It was something that I will hold forever. Less because of some touching moment with Cody and more for a touching moment with everyone who was there. I walked down the aisle knowing that I was nearly to the finish line and that everything was going to be okay. It was a feeling that I had been searching for since I got engaged. It was a feeling of accomplishment, of success, of goodness.
Moment two: Riding in the convertible to take pictures. Yes, it was hot as could be. Yes, I was sweating. Yes, I had on a dress. BUT, I also finally had Cody alone so that we could just be for a minute. We drove and listened to the wind and talked about the wedding and just took a deep breath before the reception started. It was good. It was fun. The car stalled numerous times, but not even a little car trouble could ruin my wedding high. It was fun.
Final moment: At the end of the night after the reception guests had left, Cody and I left to go home. I had changed from my wedding dress and Cody's bowtie was undone. The whole evening was over and everything had gone relatively smoothly. Cody and I walked out of the reception holding hands into a June night in Arkansas. It had cooled off and the wind was blowing and my shoes were in my hands rather than on my feet. We were finally off stage and back to our normal existence. As we walked to the car, Cody used a voice that only Cody uses to talk to me. It's one of those voices that every annoying couple has that make everyone around then nauseous. It is the most defining characteristic about Cody to me. When I heard him talk to me, I knew all was right in the world. I had the guy I loved. It was official. All of the stress was behind me. Within 24 hours I would be on the beach, and I was happy. That is the moment that I remember. That is the moment. The one that no one saw. The one that we have no pictures of. The one that did not involve some scripted dance or itinerary-outlined activity. That is the one that made all the rest worhtwhile.
1. "How's married life?"
This is by far the most commonly asked question to me now. I'm not sure how long the interval of receiving this question lasts. 1 month, 6 months, 1 year?!? I honestly don't mind the question. I just feel like a real let down because I don't have a clever answer. I refuse to answer without sarcasm, and thus am left talking about how my life is the exact same before we were married. Here's my best shot at an answer: I have gained 9 pounds and slept more in the last month than I have in quite a while. I have cooked approximately 4 dinners and 2 breakfasts (0 lunches) in the past 4 weeks. I am not pregnant, nor do I want to be, and I like/love Cody about as much as I ever have. That is the update on married life. I don't know why I threw in the "I'm not pregnant" part. I just feel like everyone waits with baited breath for an offspring once you're married. Not. For. Me.
2. "How was the wedding?"
This is the most commonly asked question numero two (I considered writing "two" out in Spanish and then realized my English spelling skills are not bilingual). My answer is....wait for it...don't answer too quickly...don't seen too eager...you know she has something worth hearing....good. It was good. There were no enormous mishaps. Cody did not bail on me. No one tripped down the aisle. There were no fights. There were no largely embarrassing moments. It was good. Things did go wrong. I have seen the video and wished that I didn't look so uncomfortable in all of the fluff that is a wedding, but overall, it was fine. I was braced for a more traumatic experience than I received, so I consider myself lucky. As my wise mother has told me before, "Nothing is ever as bad or as good as you expect." My wedding proves this statement to be true.
3. "Has anything changed with you and Cody?"
This is generally the follow up question to number two, at which point I realize I am not getting out of this conversation without divulging some sort of uncomfortable personal information. Drumroll please....the answer is no. I generally make some convoluted reference about sex at which point everyone laughs. Other than that though, no. Things are not different. We have not fought yet (we didn't fight before we were married either). We have not done anything crazy. We have not changed every characteristic that makes up Cody and Katy. We are the same two people we were 4 weeks ago plus a marriage license and common living quarters. I realize not too exciting, but sufficient for me nonetheless.
4. "Would you do it again?"
This is a bit of a loaded question I think. Would I marry Cody again? Yes! Of course. I don't regret or second guess or worry about the actual union of people that was made official on June 19th. I am happy to be Cody's permanent (muhahahahaha) partner in crime. Now, would I get married in the same fashion as we did again? The jury is still out. I think I am still too close to my wedding to answer this fairly. I still remember all of the stress and anxiety and chaos that was created by the wedding. I often wonder if maybe running off with a few close friends and family would have been the better option. It is not that I didn't have a good time on my wedding day. There were plenty of shining moments that will inevitably stick with me for years to come. However, there are some moments that were not so shiny and down right hard to bear that are also still intact. I don't know the answer to this.
I figure it's like any coming-of-age, traditional, rite of passage sort of experience. While I sat on the football field of Southside High School sweating in my Rebel blue robe inbetween two kids I swear I'd never seen before with a graduation hat that made me feel even more conspicuous than I did as an almost 6 foot tall 17 year old, I did not understand why graduation was so important. However, as a 23 year old educator who cried at Lavaca's graduation last year, I can't help but look back fondly on that sweaty night in May. And maybe, just maybe, one day I will remember June 19, 2010 with nothing but good thoughts. Sometimes the years filter away the negativity that we (I) often allow to creep into our (my) present.
5. "What was your favorite moment of the wedding?"
This is not a really common question, but one that a few of my closer friends have asked me. I like this question, because it forces me to remember the good. I would have to say that I have a few favorite moments. Some are logical. Some are not. Precursor: I realize these next few sentences are cliche and lovey and dovey and some of you will roll your eyes. I would do the same thing if I were reading this somewhere else. Deal with it!
Favorite moment number one: walking down the aisle. I know, I know, I know. I can't believe she pulled out the walking down the aisle card. I did. However, my reasoning for liking this moment is not the conventional, "I finally got to see my handsome husband to be," reasoning. I had already seen Cody in a photographer induced creation of an aisle walking scene before the actual wedding. Honestly, I felt like it was a little bit awkward. It is hard for Cody and I to act like ourselves in tuxedoes and wedding dresses with a man taking pictures of us and various people walking through the church. However, the actual walk down the aisle was something I will remember with a smile. It was like the whole evolution of Katy and Cody getting married was finally over. I had my dad with me. I had my mom watching me. I had all of my family and friends and most everyone in this world that I love there for Cody and me. It meant a lot to me. It meant more than I guess I realized. Through all of the RSVP's and planning and hypothetical conversations about getting married, I could never grasp what it would really be like. It was bigger than I anticipated. It was right. It was something that I will hold forever. Less because of some touching moment with Cody and more for a touching moment with everyone who was there. I walked down the aisle knowing that I was nearly to the finish line and that everything was going to be okay. It was a feeling that I had been searching for since I got engaged. It was a feeling of accomplishment, of success, of goodness.
Moment two: Riding in the convertible to take pictures. Yes, it was hot as could be. Yes, I was sweating. Yes, I had on a dress. BUT, I also finally had Cody alone so that we could just be for a minute. We drove and listened to the wind and talked about the wedding and just took a deep breath before the reception started. It was good. It was fun. The car stalled numerous times, but not even a little car trouble could ruin my wedding high. It was fun.
Final moment: At the end of the night after the reception guests had left, Cody and I left to go home. I had changed from my wedding dress and Cody's bowtie was undone. The whole evening was over and everything had gone relatively smoothly. Cody and I walked out of the reception holding hands into a June night in Arkansas. It had cooled off and the wind was blowing and my shoes were in my hands rather than on my feet. We were finally off stage and back to our normal existence. As we walked to the car, Cody used a voice that only Cody uses to talk to me. It's one of those voices that every annoying couple has that make everyone around then nauseous. It is the most defining characteristic about Cody to me. When I heard him talk to me, I knew all was right in the world. I had the guy I loved. It was official. All of the stress was behind me. Within 24 hours I would be on the beach, and I was happy. That is the moment that I remember. That is the moment. The one that no one saw. The one that we have no pictures of. The one that did not involve some scripted dance or itinerary-outlined activity. That is the one that made all the rest worhtwhile.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Not There Yet...
I have promised a post about my wedding. I know I have some thoughts about the day and the process and all that experience meant to Cody and me. However, I'm still not at a point where I feel like I really have anything interesting to say. When I got home from honeymoon, I literally turned my brain off to anything wedding related. I promised myself as I was freaing out in the midst of this process that once it was over I was really going to let it be over. And I have. So I am waiting for the pictures and video and all of the physical evidence of the day to be given to me so I can see what kind of emotions are evoked. Then, I will write. I think.
Nonetheless, I have decided to really step out of the box and make a very bloggish post using pictures of our engagement and wedding experience. These are the few pictures that I took along the way. As you will see, they are very much indicative of Cody and me.
This is the first picture we took after we got engaged. It was probably around 2a.m. on November 1st. We were tired. I was overwhelmed. I was wearing a plaid shirt??? That night I went to bed and laid awake worrying about all of the stuff that had to be done now that I officially had a ring on my finger. I realize now I really had no idea what the wedding planning process would be like. This picture is literally of a different person than I am now. The girl in this picture seems like someone I knew a long time ago. Who knew planning a wedding would expediate the maturation process perhaps more than anything else in life? Goodness...
I took this picture on the way home from school one day. I was in Lavaca and volleyball was over. I had finally accepted the reality of being engaged and gotten past the initial "Holy crap!" I was happy. I was excited. I was (am) in love and I decided such a gorgeous ride home from Lavaca warranted me taking a picture of my own hand in my own side mirror. Very 12-year-old girlish if you ask me.
This is one of our engagement pictures we took along the way. I like this picture because it is fun. It's not so serious or lovey dovey or any of that junk. It's just us being us which was a refreshing change of pace in a wedding planning process that I felt like sometimes required too much molding to tradition and what everyone else does. And yes, I realize everyone takes a picture like this, but it still doesn't mean I can't like it.
These are three of my favorites. The first one is of us holding our marriage license as we walked out of the court house. The second is of Cody holding it in the Heisman pose. The last one is of me holding it in the triple threat position. This is Cody and I in a nutshell. We found ourselves laying on the concrete in front of the court house taking pictures of ourselves acting like annoying teenagers. It was good. I think we have both sort of found ourselves being more silly than normal throughout this process so as to reaffirm to each other (and ourselves) that marriage doesn't have to mean the end of being young or being kids in a lot of ways. We're still 23. We're still silly in love with each other. We still act like we did when we were 18. And I hope we are like this for many, many years. Adulthood can wait.
And finally, here we are with Phineas Gerald and Staley John. They have most definitely become our children. Cody and I have made a little family with these two pups fulfilling any sort of desire to have kids of our own. They are cute (probably cuter than any human children we could ever create) and they have been a challenge that I think Cody and I have both enjoyed for the most part. The picture is terrible and I cut off part of Cody's head, but I like it all the same. I like it because it has the guy that I love and the puppies that I adore all in the same place. I don't know what exactly I think about the past year of wedding craziness, but I know that I came out the other side with all of my favorite people intact and I know that I am happy about that.
Nonetheless, I have decided to really step out of the box and make a very bloggish post using pictures of our engagement and wedding experience. These are the few pictures that I took along the way. As you will see, they are very much indicative of Cody and me.
This is the first picture we took after we got engaged. It was probably around 2a.m. on November 1st. We were tired. I was overwhelmed. I was wearing a plaid shirt??? That night I went to bed and laid awake worrying about all of the stuff that had to be done now that I officially had a ring on my finger. I realize now I really had no idea what the wedding planning process would be like. This picture is literally of a different person than I am now. The girl in this picture seems like someone I knew a long time ago. Who knew planning a wedding would expediate the maturation process perhaps more than anything else in life? Goodness...
I took this picture on the way home from school one day. I was in Lavaca and volleyball was over. I had finally accepted the reality of being engaged and gotten past the initial "Holy crap!" I was happy. I was excited. I was (am) in love and I decided such a gorgeous ride home from Lavaca warranted me taking a picture of my own hand in my own side mirror. Very 12-year-old girlish if you ask me.
This is one of our engagement pictures we took along the way. I like this picture because it is fun. It's not so serious or lovey dovey or any of that junk. It's just us being us which was a refreshing change of pace in a wedding planning process that I felt like sometimes required too much molding to tradition and what everyone else does. And yes, I realize everyone takes a picture like this, but it still doesn't mean I can't like it.
These are three of my favorites. The first one is of us holding our marriage license as we walked out of the court house. The second is of Cody holding it in the Heisman pose. The last one is of me holding it in the triple threat position. This is Cody and I in a nutshell. We found ourselves laying on the concrete in front of the court house taking pictures of ourselves acting like annoying teenagers. It was good. I think we have both sort of found ourselves being more silly than normal throughout this process so as to reaffirm to each other (and ourselves) that marriage doesn't have to mean the end of being young or being kids in a lot of ways. We're still 23. We're still silly in love with each other. We still act like we did when we were 18. And I hope we are like this for many, many years. Adulthood can wait.
And finally, here we are with Phineas Gerald and Staley John. They have most definitely become our children. Cody and I have made a little family with these two pups fulfilling any sort of desire to have kids of our own. They are cute (probably cuter than any human children we could ever create) and they have been a challenge that I think Cody and I have both enjoyed for the most part. The picture is terrible and I cut off part of Cody's head, but I like it all the same. I like it because it has the guy that I love and the puppies that I adore all in the same place. I don't know what exactly I think about the past year of wedding craziness, but I know that I came out the other side with all of my favorite people intact and I know that I am happy about that.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
SSS
So I have considered writing a post about my wedding numerous times. I have a lot to say. I am not necessarily avoiding it. I just need a few more days to really wrap my head around the whole eperience. So, until then I have decided to simply recount a funny experience from our honeymoon adventure to the Bahamas.
Note: If you ever have three S's on the bottom right hand corner of your plane ticket, it means the airline safety folks have randomly chosen you to be extensively searched and patted down while going through security. This is vital information for my story.
On the way to the Bahamas, Cody and I flew out of XNA the following Sunday after our wedding. Every time I go through security at an airport post 9-11 I feel like I am in some sort of race. Get my shoes off (pray that you remembered to wear socks). Get out all electronics. Place them in a bin. I need a bin! Make sure all of your liquids, gels, etc. are no larger than 2.5 oz. Place them in plastic bag...you get the picture. It stresses me out. On this day, I happened to forget to take my Vera Bradley credit card holder out of my back pocket. I walked through the metal detector and was asked to "step to the side." Then a woman radioed to someone that she needed a "female assist" at terminal 2. When the "female assist" arrived, the other female told her I had "bolted." What the heck? I tried to explain that I left my coin purse in my pocket on accident, but that didn't fly (pun intended). I was patted down and gawked at by fellow travelers. I was looked at judgingly by the TSA employee and Cody didn't let me live it down for the rest of the trip....No, that is not the funny part of this story. Hang in there.
On our way back from the Bahamas, we again were forced to go through security. It seemed to be a little more strict. I assume because we were trying to get back into the U.S. Nonetheless, at 4:45a.m. we found ourselves being shuffled through the Bahamian airport with me much more cognizant of the security rules since my recent problem with "bolting" at XNA. We got to the security line and I made sure to get everything out of my pockets. My gels and liquids were all neatly tucked in my Ziploc baggie. My ducks were in a serious row. I did however forget to wear socks which kind of grossed me out. I was reprimanded by the worker at the metal detector who sternly told me to walk flat footed as I was trying to tip toe through the process so as to avoid whatever foreign filth that may be on the floor of the Nassau airport. Beyond that little mishap, I thought I really performed well. The detector did not ding and I assumed I was on my way to freedom when I was again asked to step to the side. What do you mean? I don't have anything in my pockets. My gels were correctly zipped. My electronics were all neatly placed in my bin. What did I do wrong???
My bags were immediately checked by some young man. He did a rather haphazard job of searching and told me that I had been singled out because of the "SSS" on the bottom of my ticket. He explained the random selection which made me feel a little better. However, my bare feet were still touching the floor and my security mishap wasn't close to over. A female attendant proceded to pat me down. I had to lift up my feet. I had to have my hands and feet swabbed with some sort of device that I assume checked for bomb residue (who makes bombs with their feet by the way?) I was groped and embarrassed and again gawked at by fellow travelers, including Cody. He loved it. Two out of two times on this honeymoon I was a potential terrorist. Real funny. Still not to the funnny part...stick with me.
We get through immigration. All is well. We start to board the plane and are walking toward the gate. Cody and I are among the first few to reach the wing (pun not intended) of the airport where our flight would depart. As we turn to walk to line up at the gate (keep in mind this it the Bahamas, so the airport was a little shady), a man is asked to step to one side and I am asked to step to the other. Cody also lines up behind me assuming all of us need to stop to have our bag reexamined yet again. No, no, no. Only myself and one other lucky traveler are apparently in store for the bag inspection of the century. Seriously, what is going on?
Cody walks on to the gate which is maybe another 20 feet down this wing. All of the other passengers also walk past the two lucky bag inspection winners. Here comes the sticky part...
As part of a gag gift before my wedding, some friends of mine put together a little gift bag of weird, humorous sex stuff. It included a pleasure pack of flavored condoms, some weird pills (I won't go into details), pain relievers, lubricants, things of that nature. Because I am not particularly familiar with sex and all that it entails, I had thrown a few of these items in my carry on luggage after our wedding. I only kept the logical items (condoms, lubricants, weird pills) because who wants to be caught on their homeymoon without all the right tools. Luckily, all of those tools were in the bags that were going to be checked in front of about 50 passengers headed to Miami...Goodness.
I get pulled to the side. The airport worker asks me to lay my bag flat on the table. Cody had walked to the gate and was turned around staring at me laughing like a crazy person. Others are again looking at me like I am part of a bad car wreck. The airport lady opens the first pocket and all is well. There is a book and passports. Very logical items for a traveler. I realize at this point that I am screwed. I knew that the condoms that the first inspector looked over were going to be discovered. I stood in complete terror. I was suddenly 13 years old trying to hide cigarettes in my backpack (note: I never smoked cigarettes when I was 13). There were women and small children passing by. And this woman was not just looking. She really took her job seriously. She opened the next pocket to find a box of condoms. Instead of steering from this awkward item like any normal person would do, she decided to take all 12 of the assorted flavored condoms out of the box and onto the stage for all to see. The condoms were followed by some lubricants, weird pills, and even some lingere from the trip. After about the third time she looked at me like I was the biggest freak in the world, I offered up that I was on my honeymoon. I thought maybe it would soften the blow of my suitcase of tricks. She continued to search straight-faced and serious. She covered every nook and cranny and displayed it for all the world to see. I was red. I was ashamed. I wanted to crawl into a shell and die. Cody all the time is almost rolling in the line to get on the plane. I am mortified.
She eventually finds my ticket in my hand. She looks at the bottom three S's and informed me that even if I wasn't the first one to walk down the ramp, she still would have searched my bag because I was inflicted with the scarlet letters. I told her those S's have really made for some inconveniences for me. I said they must stand for security, security, security (I am really trying to make nice with this stone cold TSA employee). As she zips my final pocket closed, she looks up from my bag o' sex to say with a sly smile that for me, the S's stand for "sex, sex, sex." Burn.
The Bahamians had the last laugh. I relayed this story to Cody and we couldn't help but laugh hysterically. It was a very fitting end to a honeymoon that we will always remember. We had a lot of fun and enjoyed a much deserved break. There was beach lounging and good food. There was dancing and relaxing. There was a week of goodness for two young people in love. And let's be honest, what else should the S's stand for on your honeymoon?
Note: If you ever have three S's on the bottom right hand corner of your plane ticket, it means the airline safety folks have randomly chosen you to be extensively searched and patted down while going through security. This is vital information for my story.
On the way to the Bahamas, Cody and I flew out of XNA the following Sunday after our wedding. Every time I go through security at an airport post 9-11 I feel like I am in some sort of race. Get my shoes off (pray that you remembered to wear socks). Get out all electronics. Place them in a bin. I need a bin! Make sure all of your liquids, gels, etc. are no larger than 2.5 oz. Place them in plastic bag...you get the picture. It stresses me out. On this day, I happened to forget to take my Vera Bradley credit card holder out of my back pocket. I walked through the metal detector and was asked to "step to the side." Then a woman radioed to someone that she needed a "female assist" at terminal 2. When the "female assist" arrived, the other female told her I had "bolted." What the heck? I tried to explain that I left my coin purse in my pocket on accident, but that didn't fly (pun intended). I was patted down and gawked at by fellow travelers. I was looked at judgingly by the TSA employee and Cody didn't let me live it down for the rest of the trip....No, that is not the funny part of this story. Hang in there.
On our way back from the Bahamas, we again were forced to go through security. It seemed to be a little more strict. I assume because we were trying to get back into the U.S. Nonetheless, at 4:45a.m. we found ourselves being shuffled through the Bahamian airport with me much more cognizant of the security rules since my recent problem with "bolting" at XNA. We got to the security line and I made sure to get everything out of my pockets. My gels and liquids were all neatly tucked in my Ziploc baggie. My ducks were in a serious row. I did however forget to wear socks which kind of grossed me out. I was reprimanded by the worker at the metal detector who sternly told me to walk flat footed as I was trying to tip toe through the process so as to avoid whatever foreign filth that may be on the floor of the Nassau airport. Beyond that little mishap, I thought I really performed well. The detector did not ding and I assumed I was on my way to freedom when I was again asked to step to the side. What do you mean? I don't have anything in my pockets. My gels were correctly zipped. My electronics were all neatly placed in my bin. What did I do wrong???
My bags were immediately checked by some young man. He did a rather haphazard job of searching and told me that I had been singled out because of the "SSS" on the bottom of my ticket. He explained the random selection which made me feel a little better. However, my bare feet were still touching the floor and my security mishap wasn't close to over. A female attendant proceded to pat me down. I had to lift up my feet. I had to have my hands and feet swabbed with some sort of device that I assume checked for bomb residue (who makes bombs with their feet by the way?) I was groped and embarrassed and again gawked at by fellow travelers, including Cody. He loved it. Two out of two times on this honeymoon I was a potential terrorist. Real funny. Still not to the funnny part...stick with me.
We get through immigration. All is well. We start to board the plane and are walking toward the gate. Cody and I are among the first few to reach the wing (pun not intended) of the airport where our flight would depart. As we turn to walk to line up at the gate (keep in mind this it the Bahamas, so the airport was a little shady), a man is asked to step to one side and I am asked to step to the other. Cody also lines up behind me assuming all of us need to stop to have our bag reexamined yet again. No, no, no. Only myself and one other lucky traveler are apparently in store for the bag inspection of the century. Seriously, what is going on?
Cody walks on to the gate which is maybe another 20 feet down this wing. All of the other passengers also walk past the two lucky bag inspection winners. Here comes the sticky part...
As part of a gag gift before my wedding, some friends of mine put together a little gift bag of weird, humorous sex stuff. It included a pleasure pack of flavored condoms, some weird pills (I won't go into details), pain relievers, lubricants, things of that nature. Because I am not particularly familiar with sex and all that it entails, I had thrown a few of these items in my carry on luggage after our wedding. I only kept the logical items (condoms, lubricants, weird pills) because who wants to be caught on their homeymoon without all the right tools. Luckily, all of those tools were in the bags that were going to be checked in front of about 50 passengers headed to Miami...Goodness.
I get pulled to the side. The airport worker asks me to lay my bag flat on the table. Cody had walked to the gate and was turned around staring at me laughing like a crazy person. Others are again looking at me like I am part of a bad car wreck. The airport lady opens the first pocket and all is well. There is a book and passports. Very logical items for a traveler. I realize at this point that I am screwed. I knew that the condoms that the first inspector looked over were going to be discovered. I stood in complete terror. I was suddenly 13 years old trying to hide cigarettes in my backpack (note: I never smoked cigarettes when I was 13). There were women and small children passing by. And this woman was not just looking. She really took her job seriously. She opened the next pocket to find a box of condoms. Instead of steering from this awkward item like any normal person would do, she decided to take all 12 of the assorted flavored condoms out of the box and onto the stage for all to see. The condoms were followed by some lubricants, weird pills, and even some lingere from the trip. After about the third time she looked at me like I was the biggest freak in the world, I offered up that I was on my honeymoon. I thought maybe it would soften the blow of my suitcase of tricks. She continued to search straight-faced and serious. She covered every nook and cranny and displayed it for all the world to see. I was red. I was ashamed. I wanted to crawl into a shell and die. Cody all the time is almost rolling in the line to get on the plane. I am mortified.
She eventually finds my ticket in my hand. She looks at the bottom three S's and informed me that even if I wasn't the first one to walk down the ramp, she still would have searched my bag because I was inflicted with the scarlet letters. I told her those S's have really made for some inconveniences for me. I said they must stand for security, security, security (I am really trying to make nice with this stone cold TSA employee). As she zips my final pocket closed, she looks up from my bag o' sex to say with a sly smile that for me, the S's stand for "sex, sex, sex." Burn.
The Bahamians had the last laugh. I relayed this story to Cody and we couldn't help but laugh hysterically. It was a very fitting end to a honeymoon that we will always remember. We had a lot of fun and enjoyed a much deserved break. There was beach lounging and good food. There was dancing and relaxing. There was a week of goodness for two young people in love. And let's be honest, what else should the S's stand for on your honeymoon?
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Stages of Engagement
Since I am one week away from being a married person, I feel as if I have kind of run the engagement marathon. I have been engaged for a little more than seven months now. I have learned along this journey that there are stages of being engaged and for all of you folks who have not been engaged, here's a little summary of what to experience if you ever find yourself a fiancee...
1. "LET ME SEE YOUR RING!!!" Early on in this process, news slowly spread about Cody and me being engaged. Suddenly I found myself everywhere I went with my left hand out in front of me with someone remarking on how pretty they thought my ring was. I was often told "He did good," in reference to my ring. Everyone loved it. At the beginning of this stage, I didn't think much of this. However, after about a month of dangling my hand for all the world to see, it started to get a little old. I had told an abridged version of our engagement way too many times to count, and I also recognized that not everyone was so enthralled with my ring as they pretended to be. And I know from personal experience some folks immediately walked away with their friend or boyfriend and immediately began analyzing what they didn't like about my ring. Either way, this stage was cool for about five minutes. Luckily, I still have the ring and I like it whether you do or not.
2. "What are your colors?" About three seconds after I found myself engaged to be married questions started coming at me from every direction about every tiny detail of my wedding. What are your colors? How many bridesmaids? Who are they? Where's the reception? Have you gotten your dress? Who's your photographer? Who's your florist? (Oh, she's great). Where's the honeymoon? Where are you going to live? Are you living with him now?...There was an absolute plethora of questions to be answered about my wedding. Generally, I didn't know the answers and only had to respond with "I don't know." And often times I was a little taken aback by some of the questions that people asked that didn't really have anything to do with the wedding. The things about my life with Cody that you wouldn't ever ask anyone unless they were getting married (like do you already live with him?) It was weird. I even had one person give me a book about how to have sex. Uhhhhh...that's not normal and it's also awkward to an exponential degree. I often times equated this process to being pregnant. For some reason when people are obviously pregnant others throw out any sort of courtesy for that pregnant woman. Without blinking their hands on our her stomach as if that is a normal thing to do to someone. Being engaged is like giving people a reason to ask you every question they could ever think about your personal life. Weird.
3. "Is there anything I can do to help?" I have been asked this question a hundred times here recently. Don't get me wrong. I like knowing that people want to help me. The bad part is that I'm not one of those people who delegates anything very well, so I have turned down offers to help numerous times. I don't know how to tell people to do anything for my wedding because it's MY wedding. You don't know what I like. I'm extrememly picky and generally not even my own mother can do it right, so I have stopped considering letting most people help me. Apparently I want to run this race by myself whether that's a good idea or not.
4. "Are you ready?" This has been the most recent stage of the engagement process. Once you are only weeks away from being married, you start having people ask you if you're nervous or more often "ready" to be married. I just smile and nod when on the inside I wonder what they are asking me about. Are they asking if all of the wedding details are in order? If so, the answer is probably no. For the past few weeks I have been running around like a crazy person trying to ensure the fewest number of things possible blow up on June 19th. Are they asking if I am ready to be married to Cody? To actually live with him and share my life with him now and forever...Surprisingly, I think this would be the easiest question to answer with a yes. I am ready to be married. I don't worry about this being the right thing. I worry about the logistics of the food stations at our reception. I don't worry about whether or not we are going to be happy together, I worry about the angle at which the lights are going to hit the dance floor. I don't worry about whether or not Cody and I are making the right decision by getting married. I worry about all of the ridiculous planning that has gone into this one day in our life.
However, I think this is how it's supposed to be. I figured out the other day that they only thing that has kept me relatively sane throughout this process is Cody. I have been running through a really dark, scary tunnel of wedding planning for seven months now. I have cried and second guessed myself and given up and gotten mad and wanted to do anything other than have this wedding. I have been literally exhausted over June 19, 2010. But every time I lifted my eyes to glance at the end of this wedding tunnel, I have seen Cody holding a cup of water and a towel and naturally the first place trophy that I will win for placing first in this wedding marathon, and I have found a reason to keep going. I have started viewing all that is a wedding as the final obstacle in my relationship with Cody. It's God's way of testing you one more time to see if you are really meant to be with one another. The closer I get to June 19th, the closer I get to Cody. And that is the reason I have endured the hand raping, the extensive interrogations, endless planning, and all that is the stress of marriage. I want the prize at the end of this race more than I have wanted any prize before. And if that means I wear a big white dress and walk down an aisle and let everyone in on the personal details of my life, then so be it. I have never been one to quit a race.
1. "LET ME SEE YOUR RING!!!" Early on in this process, news slowly spread about Cody and me being engaged. Suddenly I found myself everywhere I went with my left hand out in front of me with someone remarking on how pretty they thought my ring was. I was often told "He did good," in reference to my ring. Everyone loved it. At the beginning of this stage, I didn't think much of this. However, after about a month of dangling my hand for all the world to see, it started to get a little old. I had told an abridged version of our engagement way too many times to count, and I also recognized that not everyone was so enthralled with my ring as they pretended to be. And I know from personal experience some folks immediately walked away with their friend or boyfriend and immediately began analyzing what they didn't like about my ring. Either way, this stage was cool for about five minutes. Luckily, I still have the ring and I like it whether you do or not.
2. "What are your colors?" About three seconds after I found myself engaged to be married questions started coming at me from every direction about every tiny detail of my wedding. What are your colors? How many bridesmaids? Who are they? Where's the reception? Have you gotten your dress? Who's your photographer? Who's your florist? (Oh, she's great). Where's the honeymoon? Where are you going to live? Are you living with him now?...There was an absolute plethora of questions to be answered about my wedding. Generally, I didn't know the answers and only had to respond with "I don't know." And often times I was a little taken aback by some of the questions that people asked that didn't really have anything to do with the wedding. The things about my life with Cody that you wouldn't ever ask anyone unless they were getting married (like do you already live with him?) It was weird. I even had one person give me a book about how to have sex. Uhhhhh...that's not normal and it's also awkward to an exponential degree. I often times equated this process to being pregnant. For some reason when people are obviously pregnant others throw out any sort of courtesy for that pregnant woman. Without blinking their hands on our her stomach as if that is a normal thing to do to someone. Being engaged is like giving people a reason to ask you every question they could ever think about your personal life. Weird.
3. "Is there anything I can do to help?" I have been asked this question a hundred times here recently. Don't get me wrong. I like knowing that people want to help me. The bad part is that I'm not one of those people who delegates anything very well, so I have turned down offers to help numerous times. I don't know how to tell people to do anything for my wedding because it's MY wedding. You don't know what I like. I'm extrememly picky and generally not even my own mother can do it right, so I have stopped considering letting most people help me. Apparently I want to run this race by myself whether that's a good idea or not.
4. "Are you ready?" This has been the most recent stage of the engagement process. Once you are only weeks away from being married, you start having people ask you if you're nervous or more often "ready" to be married. I just smile and nod when on the inside I wonder what they are asking me about. Are they asking if all of the wedding details are in order? If so, the answer is probably no. For the past few weeks I have been running around like a crazy person trying to ensure the fewest number of things possible blow up on June 19th. Are they asking if I am ready to be married to Cody? To actually live with him and share my life with him now and forever...Surprisingly, I think this would be the easiest question to answer with a yes. I am ready to be married. I don't worry about this being the right thing. I worry about the logistics of the food stations at our reception. I don't worry about whether or not we are going to be happy together, I worry about the angle at which the lights are going to hit the dance floor. I don't worry about whether or not Cody and I are making the right decision by getting married. I worry about all of the ridiculous planning that has gone into this one day in our life.
However, I think this is how it's supposed to be. I figured out the other day that they only thing that has kept me relatively sane throughout this process is Cody. I have been running through a really dark, scary tunnel of wedding planning for seven months now. I have cried and second guessed myself and given up and gotten mad and wanted to do anything other than have this wedding. I have been literally exhausted over June 19, 2010. But every time I lifted my eyes to glance at the end of this wedding tunnel, I have seen Cody holding a cup of water and a towel and naturally the first place trophy that I will win for placing first in this wedding marathon, and I have found a reason to keep going. I have started viewing all that is a wedding as the final obstacle in my relationship with Cody. It's God's way of testing you one more time to see if you are really meant to be with one another. The closer I get to June 19th, the closer I get to Cody. And that is the reason I have endured the hand raping, the extensive interrogations, endless planning, and all that is the stress of marriage. I want the prize at the end of this race more than I have wanted any prize before. And if that means I wear a big white dress and walk down an aisle and let everyone in on the personal details of my life, then so be it. I have never been one to quit a race.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Things that make me nervous about my wedding day...
Recently I have found myself somewhat overwhelmed by this whole wedding idea. And by somewhat, I mean terribly, utterly, frozen in fear, heart pounding, I don't think I want to do this anymore, overwhelmed. I have logically tried to analyze these feelings seeing as I am set to be married in about 2 weeks. I feel like I need to understand these reactions so I can maybe work to understand them and control them on June 19th. Here's what I've come up with...
I am not a nervous type of person. I would go so far as to tell you that when I have been plagued with nerves in past situations I manage to overcome these emotions by reminding myself that I am better than anyone else doing the same things so they will be the ones who look like idiots. For example, I understand that I have performed in front of a lot more people than will be at my wedding. The difference is that in the past I have generally been doing something. Showcasing some type of talent. And correctly or not, I have always had a fair amount of confidence in my skills. The problem with getting married is that it takes no talent. Anyone can walk down an aisle and hold a bouquet and say "I do." You don't have to compete to get a chance to do this (well, I guess you do if you consider the dating game a competition but that's a whole other post). You just show up. You buy the white dress. You throw a bouquet together with some fake flowers that were half off at Hobby Lobby and you strut down that aisle like you own the place.
Now, I will not be holding fake flowers and I will not strut (okay, I may strut a little), but I will be walking the same way any other woman who has ever gotten married has walked. There's no talent. There are no points to be scored. There is not a Wins-Losses record for marriages. It's frustrating. I feel like all that is left when you are performing a performance that takes no skills is for people to stare at you and judge you solely based on how you look. I've never been a big fan of this. Was I the hottest chick on the court? Probably not. But I bet I could have beaten the hottest chick on the court in a number of athletic competitions that include, but are not limited to: H-O-R-S-E, wrestling, ping pong, any sort of catching game, reading exercises, a spelling bee, shoe tying, dog whispering, free throw contests, etc. (I could go on forever. Let's be honest). Where are my games on June 19th?
I need some sort of skill beyond looking pretty to be showcased on my wedding day. I don't know how to look pretty. I do not spend hours of my free time trying to get prettier than I was the day before. I don't understand this skill. I have sort of decided that the skills I will have to focus on are things that I am simply not very comfortable with: grace, femininity, being emotionally vulnerable. Those three things alone make me a little nauseous (is that how you spell nauseous? I may need to revoke my spelling bee skills from the aforementioned list. Is that how you spell aforementioned? Ahhh!). Sorry. I digress.
After all of these thought processes, I have come to this conclusion. The skills that are being showcased on your wedding day are simply different than what I am used to. A dashing groom who seems comfortable with displaying his love for you equals an above 75% free throw percentage. A dress that makes you look prettier than you really are equals a flawless hitting approach and court awareness. An aura of genuine emotion and seemingly honest happiness equals a game winning shot from just in front of the half court line. I am just going to have to be okay with these being the things that I have to focus on instead of any type of real skill.
However, I would like to think that even in the tightest of situations and most unfavorable circumstances, I tend to come through in the end. I once had a coach tell me that I was very much a "game player." Looking back on that phrase, I realize now he was trying to tell me that I was somewhat lazy in my preparation for competition and instead only wanted to shine when the lights turned on in a gym packed with people who only wanted to see me and no one else play something. Maybe this was a little bit true. Maybe I did eat up the spotlight. Maybe June 19th will be more fulfilling than I would have ever predicted because there will be no other bride. There will be no one competing against me. The spotlight will turn on at 6p.m. to reveal me and only me standing in the run out tunnel with fog spilling out around me (Why did I not consider getting a fog machine until just now?) Maybe I will like this...Maybe.
Note to self...get a fog machine.
I am not a nervous type of person. I would go so far as to tell you that when I have been plagued with nerves in past situations I manage to overcome these emotions by reminding myself that I am better than anyone else doing the same things so they will be the ones who look like idiots. For example, I understand that I have performed in front of a lot more people than will be at my wedding. The difference is that in the past I have generally been doing something. Showcasing some type of talent. And correctly or not, I have always had a fair amount of confidence in my skills. The problem with getting married is that it takes no talent. Anyone can walk down an aisle and hold a bouquet and say "I do." You don't have to compete to get a chance to do this (well, I guess you do if you consider the dating game a competition but that's a whole other post). You just show up. You buy the white dress. You throw a bouquet together with some fake flowers that were half off at Hobby Lobby and you strut down that aisle like you own the place.
Now, I will not be holding fake flowers and I will not strut (okay, I may strut a little), but I will be walking the same way any other woman who has ever gotten married has walked. There's no talent. There are no points to be scored. There is not a Wins-Losses record for marriages. It's frustrating. I feel like all that is left when you are performing a performance that takes no skills is for people to stare at you and judge you solely based on how you look. I've never been a big fan of this. Was I the hottest chick on the court? Probably not. But I bet I could have beaten the hottest chick on the court in a number of athletic competitions that include, but are not limited to: H-O-R-S-E, wrestling, ping pong, any sort of catching game, reading exercises, a spelling bee, shoe tying, dog whispering, free throw contests, etc. (I could go on forever. Let's be honest). Where are my games on June 19th?
I need some sort of skill beyond looking pretty to be showcased on my wedding day. I don't know how to look pretty. I do not spend hours of my free time trying to get prettier than I was the day before. I don't understand this skill. I have sort of decided that the skills I will have to focus on are things that I am simply not very comfortable with: grace, femininity, being emotionally vulnerable. Those three things alone make me a little nauseous (is that how you spell nauseous? I may need to revoke my spelling bee skills from the aforementioned list. Is that how you spell aforementioned? Ahhh!). Sorry. I digress.
After all of these thought processes, I have come to this conclusion. The skills that are being showcased on your wedding day are simply different than what I am used to. A dashing groom who seems comfortable with displaying his love for you equals an above 75% free throw percentage. A dress that makes you look prettier than you really are equals a flawless hitting approach and court awareness. An aura of genuine emotion and seemingly honest happiness equals a game winning shot from just in front of the half court line. I am just going to have to be okay with these being the things that I have to focus on instead of any type of real skill.
However, I would like to think that even in the tightest of situations and most unfavorable circumstances, I tend to come through in the end. I once had a coach tell me that I was very much a "game player." Looking back on that phrase, I realize now he was trying to tell me that I was somewhat lazy in my preparation for competition and instead only wanted to shine when the lights turned on in a gym packed with people who only wanted to see me and no one else play something. Maybe this was a little bit true. Maybe I did eat up the spotlight. Maybe June 19th will be more fulfilling than I would have ever predicted because there will be no other bride. There will be no one competing against me. The spotlight will turn on at 6p.m. to reveal me and only me standing in the run out tunnel with fog spilling out around me (Why did I not consider getting a fog machine until just now?) Maybe I will like this...Maybe.
Note to self...get a fog machine.
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