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painsthee
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Name: Steph
Birthday: 4/28/1978
Gender: Female
Interests: Ringing that bell like I'm trying to medal in the Pavlovian slobber olympics. Euphemistically speaking. Also, polysyllables.
Expertise: Tying cherry stems in knots with my tongue, punctuating correctly, and perfecting anorexia of my inner optimist.
Occupation: lighting designer
Industry: entertainment
Message: message me
AIM:  etherealsibilant
Member Since:
2/21/2007
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| Day before the wedding:
Wedding rings did not arrive by UPS as promised. Manufacturer had lost the order from the retailer.
Got a phone call from Nashville PD at 8:00am that my house had been broken in to. They caught the guys and we got most of our stuff back, though Zeb's really nice guitars had been scratched, the house was tossed so was a total disaster (not to mention the queasiness of thugs having rifled through my underwear drawer), and the back door was totally smashed in.
Oh, they also stole my perfume, a bunch of worthless jewelry (my class ring, for instance, which isn't even made of gold) and they stole A FROZEN PIZZA. Seriously. The policeman on the phone asked if I could identify my pizza. Turns out I could.
Saturday morning my mom went to the ER with severe stomach pain. She made it back for the wedding, slightly drugged. (They have done further testing and are waiting on result to diagnose her problem, but they think it's diverticulitis.)
Saturday afternoon, the wedding went off without a hitch. Perfect weather. Awesome guests.
Sunday as we untied power the main breaker at mom's house decided to give up the fight and broke. It was 30 years old, so it makes sense, but we then had to spend the rest of the day installing a new power panel on her pole outside at the meter.
But, for better or worse, as they say, we are married.
And that part? That part is awesome. | | |
| Here are my parents just after their wedding in 1977:
They got hitched at the courthouse and had a reception at mom's aunt's house for close friends.
Saturday, Zeb and I get hitched.
I really never thought I would marry.
But here I am. Life brings the unexpected.
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| Oh, hai.
Still here. Still crazed.
Zeb and I are at the official point where we keep turning to each other and asking, 'Is this damn wedding over yet?'
I am behind in my classwork. I am swamped with work work.
But, underneath it all, I am happy, and I suppose that's what matters.
I *am* tired of people asking about wedding crap. It's not that I mind, it's just that it seems to be all anyone cares about. I am way more interested in Isabella Whitney and the place of her voice in creating a female literary tradition in Early Modern England. That's way more interesting to me than how I plan to wear my hair, you know?
But, in case anyone wonders, here are ten random wedding facts, and then we can dispense with all this nonsense, ok?
1. I am wearing white chuck taylors under the dress.
2. I have no idea how I am wearing my hair. It will probably involve hot rollers.
3. No, I don't want to borrow your pearls.
4. I am changing out of the dress after dinner so that I can actually boogie down and not fall over myself all night.
5. We aren't going on a honeymoon right away, and have no official plans for it yet.
6. Our friend Ryan--who introduced us--is performing the ceremony. No, he;s not a minister, he's a chef.
7. No, I'm not excited about the wedding. I am excited about the marriage. The wedding is just kind of a pain. I like the party part, if people would stop trying to make it such a big fucking deal.
8. People who neglect to RSVP--particularly when I have included a SASE in the invite--can all suck my (metaphorical) balls. And furthermore, they can stand, because I'm not renting them a chair.
9. No cake. Cupcakes. Deal.
10. Yes, we have considered what to do if it rains. Considering that's what it does 59% of the time in TN in the fall, we did amazingly think to consider it, thanks.
Bonus: Stop asking about future plans for my uterus, goddammit.
I sound very crotchety, and I know people are just excited for us, but I sort of wish some of that excitement could rub off on me, you know? Plus I am not a squealing kind of gal in general, so I can't really get it up for favors and china and a half dozen bridesmaids. I picked what I like, you get what you get. Come or don't.
See, there's the crotchety again.
Sigh.
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| Work is insane.
And the semester is driving over me, putting it in reverse, and backing over me.
I had to ask for an extension for a paper on Isabella Whitney and the humility topos.
And Zeb is trying to move in between out of town trips for work.
And the wedding is in like three weeks.
And now I've managed to contract some nasty sickness that made me feel like I was going to pass out in class tonight while trying to say something interesting about Greenblatt's assertion that Hamlet is bound up in anxieties about the Eucharist.
In truth, I am only blogging so you know a) I'm not dead, and b) because I need to do something before the heroic dose of off-brand nighttime cold medicine (read: Fake NyQuil) kicks in and sends me off into blissful unconsciousness wherein I do not have to be cognizant of how much my throat hurts.
I know, I am just a lump of sunshine tonight, huh?
Here's the wedding dress, as requested:
I cut off the train. And will try to smile sincerely at the actual wedding. But now I do know that I am allergic to David's Bridal. It was a seriously hive-inducing experience. When I walked in I had to fill out a form--in triplicate--with all my info before I could even look at the dresses. And they assigned me a "personal sales assistant". When she asked what I wanted I went into full out defense mode. "No sequins! No tulle! No rhinestones! No crystals! Nothing strapless! Nothing frou frou! And cheap!"
I like the dress okay, I guess, and honestly it's a fucking relief not to worry about making one. But it's just a dress. And all I really care about is that Zeb and I are getting married. All the rest is just window dressing.
Yes, it turns out I am the antibride.
We did get our marriage certificate today though. So it's almost official. Ish. Our friend Ryan is marrying us, which is awesome. (Yay, online ordination!)
Oh, and while sitting waiting for our turn at the county clerk's office this morning, I was musing about how unfair it is that same-sex couples can't get married.
a) Everyone should share the misery! (ha, ha. I kid.)
b) If the state grants licenses, then marriage is a state-controlled act.
c) If it is state controlled, then it should be fully separate from religion.
d) There are no secular arguments for why gays shouldn't be allowed to marry, only religious arguments.
e) Hey, guess what, there really is no such thing as separation of church and state in this country and to pretend otherwise is a delusional fiction.
f) And it pisses me off.
Hey, there's the blissful knock of nyquil upon my inner door. Excuse me while I answer it, and then dance the tango with it. | | |
| True love is coming home from class at 10:30 pm to find that your boyfriend-soon-to-be-husband has assembled your huge-ass Ikea shelves and moved it into your study so you can put all your 87,254 book on it.
Bookshelves. Bookshelves are undoubtedly the way to my heart. | | |
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