Tomorrow is my birthday. Tuesday, that is. I know it's technically Monday right now where I'm at, but I've been awake for a few hours after another few hours sleeping, only a short nap, so it still feels like Sunday to me. Ah, who am I kidding? The days don't "feel" like anything to me anymore. I don't have a regular enough sleep/wake cycle for that. It's all one long day, punctuated by naps long or short.

On Tuesday I turn 28. I can't help but take stock, think about the passage of time and how much I may or may not have left. When I was in high school (during one of my several sophomore/junior years) I attended a prayer breakfast where the keynote speaker was the father of Rachel Joy Scott, the first student to die in the Columbine shootings. His story of Rachel's life touched me deeply, and it also lit a fire inside me that I've never really been able to explain. You see, she had this purpose and direction to her life that makes me ache for something similar, and even though she died quite young, she still left an indelible mark on the world around her with her kindness, her inclusiveness, and her determination to make the little universe she inhabited a better place. The best part is that she did. She knew somehow that she was going to die young, that year that she was shot. She wrote in her journal some time previous that "this is my last year on earth, I have learned what I can" or something to that effect. (I'm going off of a ten year old memory, so it's not exact.) And now that I'm facing the accomplishment of year number 28, it astonishes me because I always felt that I was going to die young, too. I never really expected to reach thirty. I suppose it's because I've spent so much of my life focused on immediate survival, which was the only way to make it through the trauma of the first decade and a half, but the dreams of the future always seemed unreal and hazy, not concrete at all.

When I look back, though, I am very happy with what I've accomplished, particularly knowing now that I was fighting against Ehlers-Danlos the whole time, and some of the other stuff like adrenal fatigue and food allergies as I got into my teens. I've had some grand adventures in my time. I feel particularly fond of my Idaho adventures. They were the ones most closely aligned with my most closely held daydreams of adult life. Have I ever mentioned that one of my most passionate wishes as a girl was to grow up and join an Amish community? The rustic, living off of the land "survival" lifestyle holds a deep, deep appeal for me, and living on the premises of Summer Hill Farm away up in the mountains was a dream come true in a lot of ways. I only wish that I could have stayed longer, or gone up there sooner. The timing worked out, though, to be for the best. I could not live up to the rigors of country life in my current state of disability, so it's best that I moved back to a soft city life before it got too bad! ;-)

I do feel a sorrow, though, for the life that I will not get to live. Chronic illness and intractable pain have changed my life irrevocably, and there is a deep sadness that comes with that certainty. Granted, I'm the most comfortable that I've been in years, now that I have the proper balance and dosage of pain medications, but the thought of years and years of this is… daunting. To say the least. I feel like I'm constantly dancing on the edge of a chasm, and if just one little thing goes wrong anywhere in the chain of events, I will topple over the edge and be broken on the jagged rocks below. If something happens to  the manufacturing or delivery of the pain medication, I'm doomed. If the pharmacy has troubles with stocking (like they have the past 6 months), I have nowhere to turn. I tried getting my meds filled at a different pharmacy, but they all turned me away because my needs were too great. If I can't get the hundreds of dollars necessary each month to buy the meds… I'm toast. So it's not just the thought of the huge drifts of pain that will accumulate through the years, but the stress of not knowing, each and every month, until I'm rolling out the pharmacy door with meds in hand, that seems the most unbearable. It's a really doomy, gloomy thought, so I try to not think about it much. Sorrow? Check. Stress? Double check. Moving on.

I read a really interesting sci-fi book a few days ago called "Factoring Humanity" by Robert J. Sawyer. I don't wanna give away spoilers, but one of the premises of the book is that humanity isn't a bunch of individuals on a spinning rock, totally unconnected from each other, neither is the information gathered over a lifetime lost when an individual dies. Rather, humanity is all connected to one another through what the book terms the "over mind", a collection of the consciousness and information of every human mind that has ever existed. The information isn't lost at death, but rather "uploaded" and saved, like backing up your computer data, and the book goes over the story of how the over mind is realized and explored by a few humans at first, using the information sent to Earth by intelligent life on Alpha Centauri over a period of ten years via radio signals. I know it's just a fictional book, but it really does give me a framework for understanding the world around me that really appeals to me and just makes a lot of sense in some ways. It's given me much to think about, in any event.

That brings me back to the idea of "making a mark" on the world around me, though. Discount the idea of the over mind and just focus in on the thought that when a person dies a shadow of them lives on in a way through the memories of the people they interacted with. I would really like to be able to say that my interactions with the people around me left them happy and better able to cope with the harsh realities of life, you know? Because life is hard. Really hard. Anyone who says differently is selling something. Hehehehe. (Princess Bride reference, in case you didn't catch that.) We all know at least one person who is definitely not a delight to be around, and who seems to just make everything a bit harder to bear; someone who sucks the energy and life from those around them and either doesn't know or doesn't care. I don't want to be that person. Even if I have excuses that seem valid, I do NOT want to be that person. My young life was ruled by a tyrant of that sort, and I know how miserable it can be under their thumb. I absolutely refuse to do that to anyone else if I can help it. I think I've done a pretty decent job of avoiding that pitfall, even with my new neediness that came with the nosedive of my health. Perhaps my "mark" is simply that I made some people happy some of the time, made their lives a bit easier, even? I mean, in a first world world, what else is there?

So I'm turning 28. My husband will be 30 next month. I remember the days when 30 seemed so old! My girlfriend is even older than my husband, if you can believe that. Age never really mattered much to me as much as personal maturity, although I do tend to have a thing for older men. Daddy issues, most likely. I'll own that. lol. So I guess that's it. Just some musings on my life and what I hope I'm doing with it. At this point I don't feel like there's much I can achieve anymore beyond interpersonal goals. I'm just too damn tired. Somehow, I have to make peace with my multitude of dreams and my achy, sleepy reality. I have been doing "better" the past couple months, though. I'm starting to feel like myself again, really and truly. An altered version, no doubt, but no one stays a static version of themselves forever anyway. I'd be altered no matter what.

I've started going for walks again, though, and I get out of the house twice a week regularly, once for grocery run with Corey and once for coffee date with Saka. I've even stopped throwing up all the time, thanks to a lovely med they give chemo patients! I have to take it consistently, though, or else the nausea sneaks up on me really fast and I find myself on the couch clutching my vomit bowl within a span of ten minutes from feeling fine. Gotta keep it in my system. I can't help but laugh sometimes at how different my every day life is from what I'd ever imagined it being!
No artsy cafes or guitar in the park, no challenging classes out at the college with a yoga session afterwards.
No five mile walks in the muggy warmth of a summer's night.
No swell of a pregnant belly.
No certificates of continuing education, no job, no paycheck.
No numbers in my savings account.
No trip to Europe, touring art and culture and food.

There are losses, to be sure. I gotta quit that or I'll start crying. But hey, everyone has losses, and everyone has gains, too. I know I'm better off than I was a year ago, and for that I'm very thankful. Here's to another year of, um… tea and Netflix! Yeah! And a circle of good people who love me very much. That's always a good one.

So guess what, folks? The Princess (that's me!) went on vacation. An honest to goodness, get away from it all vacation. I really, really did! It would in no way have been possible without my amazing sister in law, who I did not know cared for me as deeply as she does, but she spoiled me in almost every fashion imaginable.

First off, she had started saving for this weeks and weeks ago, and while I was there I paid my own way on things twice. Twice. In an entire week of going places and seeing things and doing stuff and buying food! Second, she was very careful to keep my physical labor to a minimum, to make sure that I rested as much as possible, and that I was able to access the places we visited. She carried all of my luggage and would only let me carry pillows and the like, even loading and unloading my walker every time we got in or out of the car! I must admit, it was pretty fantastic to have a sherpa, as I jokingly called her throughout our time together.

It was a bit of a whirlwind trip, but it was so incredibly nice to have no responsibilities, to not have to pay for anything, to have fun things to look forward to every day yet not have any kind of a rigid schedule so that our whims and my health could lead the way as to our activities, and to just kind of… well, I have this mental image of, like, my normal life and home and such with this blank white cutout space in my shape throughout the entire week where I would normally be during that time, and the cutout of me was pasted into this whole other life and reality for a week. Does that even make sense? It was so different from how my life usually proceeds that it felt like almost an entirely different reality, which is what vacation is supposed to be, right?

It felt restorative, rejuvenating, and soothing. I was the closest that I've been to my pre-Spoonie self than I've been in years. Granted, it took a lot of assistance to get that, but that doesn't diminish the experience at all. It's a series of memories that I will cherish for a long time to come, I can guarantee that.

Our week went something like this…

Sunday: Colleen (sister in law) arrives and we more or less intend to leave that day, but don't because I'm feeling poorly and it takes me forever to pack, and also what's the rush? We make a list and Colleen packs for me, which is awesome.

Monday: We leave in the morning after stopping by the local muffin store (Yum-azing!), I sleep all the way to Tucson. We go grocery shopping, Colleen cooks supper, take a walk around University, get locked out of house upon return and Colleen ends up breaking in through a window that was unlocked.

Tuesday: Visit an art store for shopping, go clothes shopping for me at a thrift store nearby, have dinner with Colleen's best friends and I have my first margarita. The night is capped with my first hookah smoke and we talk late into the night.

Wednesday: Walk the main drag near the University and visit the tea house we've had our eye on, go to dinner at a fancy place and run low on time, get trapped in the parking garage because of a faulty ticket and barely make the play we've been looking forward to seeing (and pre-purchased tickets for). End the night by returning to the main drag and hanging out at a coffee shop smoking hookah and eating Mediterranean pastries until the shop closes late.

Thursday: Drive to town an hour or so away to spend a few days with my friend Rose. She was interning with the Victim Rights department during the trial that put my molester in prison, and so she was sort of a victim advocate for me and we've kept in touch and maintained a friendship since. Get settled, I get a haircut and Rose takes me on a mini tour of the Army Fort and beautiful surrounding scenery. I fall asleep in the car and nap upon our return, wake to find company over for dinner, and we all hang out until dispersing for bed some time after company leaves.

Friday: Take a 2 mile walk with Rose (yeah, that's right! I'm fuckin' proud of myself!!!), nap briefly before we all pile in and drive to Bisbee to check out the stores and sights. Colleen buys her first "real" piece of art and is now an official adult, and I find some amazing souvenirs and a smaller cast iron skillet of a size we don't already own that I take home for Corey. (He likes it a lot, and used it for the first time tonight to make a sort of omelette.) After coming home, Rose's "Gathering Of The Awesome" party starts a while later, consisting of awesome women that she knows and invited to an evening of yummy light food, good drinks, good conversation and company, and a fun art activity that was also insightful and connecting.

Saturday: Leave Rose's and head back to Colleen's house, go grocery shopping for afternoon picnic planned. I nap for a few hours, then she, I, and one of her best friends that we went to dinner with go up Mount Lemmon and have a picnic, sort of start a fire to keep ourselves warm, and watch the sunset on the drive back down the mountain.

Sunday: We both sleep in, and eventually she packs up the car and takes me back to Yuma but leaves shortly after because of work the next day.

I was feeling pretty good throughout the week, at least as far as "good" for me goes, but as the week went on I could feel myself wearing out. By Friday night I was running a mildly low grade fever and felt pretty gross. Saturday night I declined a proposed meet up with a friend of Colleen's in favor of staying in bed because I felt shitty, and Monday, the day after I got back, I pretty much did nothing but sleep in hour-to-several-hour increments for about 24 hours. I'm still recovering, but part of it is that I don't have that medication that helps so much with the stiffness and pain in my joints anymore, so I just feel more arthritic and whatever than usual anyway. Also, period should be coming soon, and I'm always exhausted the week before my period and sleep more than usual, so I'm not surprised there, either.

I cheated a lot with allergens on vacation, so I'm returning to being a "good girl"… but oh man, I had some of the best food in a long time. Have you ever had fresh sopapillas? Then you are missing out on the culinary equivalent of salvation for your soul, I swear to you. They are so. good. I've also been on a huge muffin craving kick since we hit that muffin place on the way out of town. I had forgotten what I was missing, but now I am constantly reminded of my suffering due to lack. Alas, alack, woe is me, woe betide, and all that sorrowful jazz…

It was a good trip. It was a very good trip. I don't expect to have an experience like that again anytime soon, but I will surely treasure it. I feel different somehow from having  had the experience, but I'll think on that more later. I am so indebted to my ladies, Rose and Colleen. My gratitude knows no bounds. I know that they really went above and beyond for me… and yet for them, I'm sure it seems somewhat of a simple matter. It's funny how perspective works. From my perspective, it was a chance to live life again, to have fun and forget the frustrations and complexities of trying to juggle doctor's appointments and bills and finding rides and medication snafus and all that… to simply be a young woman again and enjoy things… to just have fun, pure and simple! From their perspective, it was doing things that maybe they don't get to do every day but have been wanting to, but it wasn't particularly mind-altering I don't think. It was pretty much business as normal, but on vacation time.

Regardless of who felt what, there is one thing that we should all be feeling right now, and that's pride. Pride in me, of course. Why? Because it's only been 3 days since I got home, and I'm fully unpacked! Yeah, baby! (This is fairly unheard of, just for context.) Now that I'm home, back to responsibilities, I feel a little better equipped to handle them now that I'm not so frazzled and frayed because I had a pleasant break. On the other hand, it makes me not want to deal with real life at all anymore and just continually live the vacation life on someone else's dime… Heh. If only, right?

I'm still here, still alive (barely, hah!), still kicking (feebly, and then only some days).

Things are tough here at home. There's a lot of stress. Naturally, there's the stress of my being sick; that's not gone away, especially as my condition has deteriorated further and I'm spending 23 out of 24 hours flat on my back in bed. (Oh, how I wish I were exaggerating… Well, okay. I am a little. I spend some time propped up with pillows. ;) ) We're having a rough go of it financially. Medical bills are piling up, and we keep getting hit with unexpected other things, like an astronomical water bill due to the broken pipe in our front yard (but Grampa is coming over on Friday to help fix it with the tools that we don't have, so we don't have to hire a plumber! Yippee!) and Drogo is gonna need new tires for his truck, and those blasted trips to the big city and the copays for the specialists, and having to buy me a new phone, and it just goes on and on and on… Drogo told me that we don't have enough money to go grocery shopping this week. I felt sick to my stomach. We have enough food in the house to make it to his next payday, though, and Grampa said that he's going to be bringing us food from the food bank, even without him knowing that we're so tight on funds. He and Gramma know that we're struggling. It's hard, being a young couple just starting out, even without all of this medical nonsense. RDad did us a huge favor and a good turn by giving us over a thousand dollars free and clear, out of the blue, to pay a huge laboratory bill that came our way last month. I paid that on Monday, and it was a relief.

Drogo is very grumpy, distant, and moody because of the money shortage. His entire paycheck is used up this week on the mortgage and that water bill. There's nothing left over for food or other bills at all, and he still has to pay his phone bill… that'll come out of the hundred or so dollars he has left in savings, and then he'll have maybe thirty dollars left to get us through the next two weeks. And he has to buy gas, too. Oh, he's so stressed, the poor guy… and there's nothing I can do. I am actively working on applying for disability, though. That's one thing I can do. We decided that it's something necessary for us… I'm sick enough to warrant it, and we need the help. Even a few hundred dollars a month would go such a long way…

I'm getting really sick of him being so crabby, though. I'm like, dude. I get that you're stressed. It's a big deal, this money thing. It's something worth being crabby over… for a little while. You're the provider, and we both depend on you. It's a big burden. I get it. But get over yourself. Your attitude is not helping anything, and it's making this whole "hey, let's have a good, happy marriage in spite of all the shit that we're dealing with" thing very, very difficult, so knock it off. If anyone has a reason to be crabby and grouchy, it's me, but I don't act that way because it won't help anything or make anyone happy, so you need to be an adult and suck it up. For the sake of our happiness as a couple and the atmosphere of the home, get the fuck over yourself and stop letting your stress get the better of you, okay?

He says he'll stop being grumpy when the money thing is resolved, and lordy knows when that will be. I think it's a poor decision to let your circumstances dictate your attitude. If anyone has the call to be a raving bitch, it's me. But I don't. Why should I? It would just make everyone miserable, myself included. Sure, I'm grumpy sometimes, but I do my best to be happy and look for the good stuff in life, to surround myself with love and beauty. He needs to do the same. His grumpiness is setting me on edge and making me grouchy and irritable, and I don't like it.

Aaaaaaanyways… I'm also on edge because my bestie here in town moved last week (or was it the week before?) and I hadn't realized how much I'd come to rely on him for company and also for getting around town when the need arose. Having to scavenge for rides is difficult when half the people I know don't have cars and others are out of town for an extended amount of time and most of the people in town I don't know well enough to ask for rides and the rest that I do all have jobs with difficult schedules. I don't drive now, at all. And I don't leave the house without my walker, ever. If I'm not improved within 6 months, I'm gonna start saving up for a pretty, new walker that's more streamlined and much lighter.

This thing is sturdy, to be sure, but it's heavy and bulky. I got what I could on short notice and it's served my needs admirably, but I honestly never dreamed when I purchased it off Craigslist that I would need it this much or for this long. I thought it was just to aid me in travel through the long trek through several airports on the way back East for Christmas. Now I've had it a year and a half and it's an invaluable tool.

Oh, I'm also blogging now over at a different blog I just started. It's different than this blog, not as personal. More for my writing writing, if that makes sense. I need to actually draw up a schedule of topics and write an "about me", but I'm working on it. Slowly but surely. It excites me to be "out there" as a writer, even in a small little corner of the world. I do love to write, and I've received a lot of encouragement. I'll still be here, when I have the energy and the thoughts and feels I need to sort through, but I'll be there, too. Honeybee Chickadee is the name. I'll see you there?

Oh, and by the way, just wanna throw a HUGE congratulatory shout out to Beate and Keith on their engagement! I'm so happy for you two-- you are clearly a good match, and very happy together. I'm very much looking forward to wedding pictures, but more than that I am looking forward to seeing the adventure of the life you two will lead together. It's going to be stunning, I am certain, and so full of, well, life. Keith, that's a heck of a vacation my friend. I've never gone on vacation and come back engaged to a beautiful woman! Then again, I've never gone to Germany, so… maybe that's my problem. ;) Again, congratulations. Much happiness to you both.

So I'm thinking about death tonight. Is that weird?

I'm just thinking… my body is pulling all kinds of crap that it shouldn't be doing, stuff that healthy, normal bodies don't do. I'm not getting better at all. I'm steadily worsening. Does that mean that I'm dying? Like, when do you actually cross the threshold from "sick" to "dying"?

I feel my life force ebbing away a little more each day. Does that qualify?

We had quite the adventure tonight as C advocated for me via phone and (politely and calmly) demanded answers to tough questions. The end result is that I'm not going to the ER tonight, but I am going to raise hell tomorrow to try and get some pain meds that actually work. I've been fluctuating between an 8 and 9 for hours now, and I'm totally exhausted, but I hurt so bad that I can't sleep.

Does that count as dying? I'm certainly not living anymore. I'm just kind of taking up space… bringing smiles and irritated groans wherever I can. I still have hopes and dreams and things that I want to accomplish, to be sure, but I'm not able to do anything about them right now. I simply don't have the energy or the will any longer.

As I lay inert on the couch tonight, fading into the buzz and fuzziness of my mental state (overwhelmed by pain and not able to function properly… how am I even typing coherent sentences?!), I sincerely thought that maybe I was just going to, I dunno, kind of fade out and just… stop being. Right then and there. Clearly, that didn't happen, and mostly because I wanted to update my Facebook status one more time. (Hey, any reason to live, right?)

I thought, though, about what would happen if I did just fizzle out tonight. How would C know who to notify? How would my friends know that I was gone? Would I be happy with what I'd left behind, the blog posts and the Facebook timeline and the conversations with friends and the gifts given and the super hot sex with my husband…?

The answer was yes.

If I were to just fade out tonight, I would have no regrets. I have no bones to pick, no relationships awry that need mending, just a little credit card debt (sorry, honey, I guess you'll have to pick that one up!), and no skeletons in the closet.

Okay, I take that back. I would regret not being able to do more, to give more, to make more of a mark on the world… to make the world a better place. I'm not done yet. I want to help the HJ grow, I want to work with my girls and see them rise triumphant from their broken pasts. I want to paint and see sunsets  and gloriously starry skies in different states. I want to visit the East coast, travel in New England. I want more hot sex. I want to eat pizza even though I'm not supposed to… or maybe a forbidden donut! (There's an awesome allergy friendly bakery in Boston, I think it is, that I really really really want to go to. I miss baked goods!!!) I want to cultivate more friendships and make more people smile. I want to put more good energy out there into the world. I want to visit Crystal Peaks Youth Ranch in Oregon. I want to see my sister K get married this summer. (Though reality whispers that I probably won't be able to do that one, sadly.) I want to make jewelry and sun catchers. I want to cuddle my niece and do silly stuff with my family.

I want more love, more laughter, more life and light and happiness. I would regret missing out on that, being able to create that, that's all.

So, ok, maybe I'm not done yet. But if I do fade away, if I am dying like I feel I am (in a totally non-melodramatic way, you understand), then I shall pass with the knowledge that I am loved, that I have loved, and that I have brought good into the world. That's a good thing to know.

So I couldn't say anything here or on fb for fear of ruining the surprise, but C and I drove up to Id for J's wedding weekend! Yep. We are now firmly ensconced in the S's home, watching over it while they're all crammed into a hotel room together. I'll be doing some cramming of my own over the weekend, but it's nice to have a peaceful, quiet place to relax in. Although C did most of the driving, it was still a grueling trip, and neither of us are feeling very good right now.

C, J's mom, had told her this morning that she would have a surprise rolling in about noon, but she had no idea it would be us! Her delight and enthusiasm more than made up for the difficulty of the trip, and I for one am thrilled to be here. A HUGE thanks to my mother for supplying the gas money and making it possible!

It is strangely sad, though, to be here and know that D is dead. It casts a solemn pall over what would otherwise be a strictly joyful trip, but that's to be expected. I knew this would happen, and so did C.

Also, when I went outdoors and called Juneaux he appeared immediately and was incredibly happy to see me. He had no troubles remembering his mother at all! That made me happy. I missed my sweet baby boy.

Things that made me smile today:

- Heavy rain in the morning

- Watching S play with the dog I'm sitting

-Rubbing C's back and scratching his head while he plays Guild Wars

-Watching C's animated description of the greatsword he wants, and the capabilities it possesses

-Text message from D thanking me for her thank you card and informing me that our picture will be framed and put on display in the living room

-Having all of my wedding thank you cards sent out

-Walking into our bedroom and smelling our peculiar "Cassandra and C" scent

-Cloudy day

-Kira (the dog) sneezing

-Facebook interactions with friends

-Talking with my mom on the phone (for an hour!)

-C's agreement to a tentative "visiting Id" plan

-Having pain killers to take

-M's hijacking my hospital trip

-Being able to wear my collar necklace today

-Sitting on a toilet brush (smiling at my stupidity, after I screamed and then laughed)

-Knowing that my husband will be home soon

I did two things today. One was foolish, the other was brave and awesome.

We'll start with the brave and awesome. I marched my happy little self down to the local beauty school's salon and got my hair streaked with bright red and vibrant purple. How is this brave and awesome, you ask? Well, I've been wanting to do this for years, literally years, but I've been so afraid of what other people might think (because I have a reputation to uphold, you know) that I never could bring myself to give voice to my personality in that way. But I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and C agreed to pay for it, and then my massage therapist told me today to do something fun, so... there I went. I was supposed to get a haircut, too, but we ran out of time, so I'm going back in the morning. Nothing crazy, just a shorter version of the cute, choppy bob that I loved so much last time my hair was cut. The layers will really show off my new colors nicely. I'll make sure to get at least one decent picture.

The foolish thing? I marched my happy little self down to the local beauty school's salon without taking any painkillers or snacks with me, or even a bottle of water. Big mistake. (Granted, I had no idea how long it was going to take, but it was still a foolish oversight.) I was there for three and a half hours, sitting in uncomfortable chairs, holding the same position... and then I had an HJ meeting afterward, so by the time I got home I hadn't eaten in like, 5 hours. That's bad news for me. I was able to score some apple juice during the meeting, to boost my blood sugar a bit because I was shaking. That got me home, but I was so nauseous and painfully sick from not eating that it almost wasn't worth it... but the black rice and grilled asparagus that I forced down really did hit the spot. I'm super worn out, though. Skipped group. I just couldn't do it. Plus I've got work tomorrow.

It's dumb how just sitting in a chair for three and a half hours can completely knock me on my butt. I resent that. I did get to explain fibro and chronic pain a bit to my hairdresser, though. Of course, because I came in with my walker, it was a natural conversation topic to come up. It made me realize that I'm really interested in advocating for chronic invisible illnesses in my community, but I really don't know how to go about doing it without seeming like I'm complaining or throwing a pity party. I'll be mulling this over, I'm sure... keeping my eyes out for ideas and opportunities.

Despite my mistakes, it was a pretty good day. I'm happy. In a hell of a lot of pain and thoroughly exhausted, but happy.

I figure it's high time that I chronicled the events of my wedding day, and I have some spare time on my hands, so I may as well bite the figurative bullet and do it. Fact is, it's so much more pleasant to reminisce than to try to craft a meaningful narrative from my memories... but I know that I'm the kind of gal that needs some solid documentation to refer to in future times.

When my hard drive crashed recently, I lost a few recent photos and things that I hadn't yet backed up, but my greatest loss was the programs I had bought, such as iPhoto, GarageBand, Pages, Keynote, etc. I'm sure I still have the disks around somewhere, but they're hidden amongst my belongings that are now scattered to kingdom come from the move, which is frustrating. Fortunately, I uploaded all of the wedding and honeymoon photos to Facebook, in addition to having all of the wedding photos on a thumb drive. Whew!

Actually, I wrote up a summary of the day over on a bridal site that I frequent, so I'm just going to copy and paste that sucker, with the appropriate pictures interspersed. So much easier... and if I think of anything else, I'll just insert it in the appropriate place in the timeline. I'm a genius!

Without further ado...

*Long Post Warning and LOTS of pictures!*

"Well, I did it! Technically we did it, but I'm going to bask in the light of my accomplishment a little here, since there was a point during the rehearsal when I realized that holycrap holycrap holycrap we're actually going to get married to each other forever and ever! for realsies!, and I was not actually sure that I could go through with the wedding. (See picture for hilarious facial interpretation of internal feelings.)

This is the point during the rehearsal when I started getting nauseous and freaking out and wanting to call the whole thing off, or at least just elope. It's not that I didn't want to marry him, I was just fearful that getting married would ruin our relationship. Plus, I mean, a wedding is a Big Deal and a huge Life Change (for most), and I tend to panic in the face of such things.

However, I got over myself, and you know what? Our wedding was totally badass. I loved it. On the wedding day, I had no panic, no fears, no doubts, no hesitancies... Nothing but assurance within that I was making a damn fine choice and that I was going to be very happy.

The wedding that I spent six months crafting and envisioning sort of went to hell in a handbasket in  a few regards (what wedding doesn't?!), but the wedding that came out of it was even better than I could have imagined. To begin with, our venue for both the ceremony and the reception was a lovely little out of the way section of a local park that is surrounded by trees and flowers. It's called The Hummingbird Garden, because in spring it attracts hummingbirds by the droves. (Hummingbirds are also my favorite bird, and a very personal and spiritual sign of good luck for me, so seeing a bunch of hummingbirds whizzing about and hearing them chirp their happy little messages soothed me in an indescribable way.) I was hoping for cool weather, as a heat wave had hit us, and the projected temps for that day were the low 90's. Ugh. I felt sorry for the folks who had come from, well, anywhere else, as they are NOT used to these kinds of temperatures! It turned out to be very windy instead, and while that really threw a monkey wrench into some of our decorating plans it kept us all cool and comfortable. *Whew!* That was especially a concern as there was no shade to seat the guests in for the ceremony or reception. Several people showed up in the early morning to help us decorate and set up tables and chairs, and they did a fantastic job. (Side note: I got sunburnt that morning while "helping" to decorate the park! So all of the work that I'd done to get rid of my funny spaghetti-strap tan lines was for naught... and it totally didn't matter.) My husband and his brother did great work stringing long strands of beads through the branches of the paloverde tree we were to stand in front of, and even though they did it WAY differently than I had been imagining, it looked so much better their way; very romantic and fairytale-esque.

Fun fact: I've had this idea in my head for many, many years that I'd like to get married when the paloverdes are blooming. (I've also had the idea for a long time that I would marry outdoors.) To my disappointment, it didn't appear that the paloverdes would bloom in time for my wedding. However, two days before the wedding, every tree in town burst into riotous yellow bloom! So I did, indeed, get to be married while the paloverdes were blooming. That was really special to me. (See all the little yellow flowers?) By the way, for those who don't know, "paloverde" literally means "green tree" in Spanish. Can you hazard a guess as to why? :)

One thing I learned in force from the days leading up to the wedding, and the day of the wedding itself, was how to receive from others. I'm a "doer", and a giver. I like to help, and I especially like to do it myself if at all possible. I hate asking for help, because I have this terrible fear of imposing upon others, bolstered by large and unhealthy doses of guilt for stupid stuff. However, the stress of the impending nuptials really ignited my chronic illnesses the week before the wedding, and I was very sick and in a great deal of pain most of the time. My friends and family knew this, and they refused to let me do pretty much anything the entire time they were there. For instance, a friend of mine came over before my guests came into town and cleaned the apartment for me. When my guests got to town, they took over the decorations, spending the entire morning setting up, decorating and guarding the site of our wedding, the assembly of favors, the baking and frosting of special allergy-friendly cupcakes, cleaning my bathroom(?!)... everything they could. And I had to learn how to receive this outpouring of love and care with gratitude. It was difficult. Very difficult. But it also marks that period of time as a very special and intimate time, because I don't think I've ever been so cared for by so many people. I felt so precious and valuable; it was incredible. And I also saw that, while some people may not have felt that I was making the best choice in marrying an atheist, they still loved and supported us as a couple because of who we are as individuals and their connections to us. It was very telling that there was little to no familial or friend drama during our engagement or during the time immediately before the wedding, with the exception of some well-meaning warnings from more religious friends, which I took as a sign of their love, support, and care for my well-being. I saw in a big way what a difference surrounding oneself with healthy friendships and relationships makes when it really comes down to it.

We all showed up at the park at the ungodly hour of 8 a.m. (lol) to set up tables and chairs, decorate the ramada, and string beads from the tree that would serve as our backdrop. While I wasn't allowed to do much, I did end up doing a lot of shuttling and running around in my car. Some of the people that I was counting on showing up to help decorate were completely AWOL, but some people that I didn't expect to come help at all showed up and put in the bulk of the work, so it all evened out. As I mentioned before, my husband and his brother worked their magic on the paloverde tree with our long strands of beads, risking limb and life for beauty, because those things are loaded with some wicked thorns! My coordinator took care of everything, basically. I gave her the general idea that I had for the "look" of the scene, and she passed the vision on. Everyone kind of came together with their own artistic license, and it worked beautifully. There were some funny moments trying to deal with the stiff wind that was whipping through the park, and the men worked mightily to string up a bed sheet at one end of the ramada as a sunscreen for the cake later in the day. It kept coming loose, so one of the guys would climb back up the ladder, shout, "Twine me!", and go to work implementing another method of keeping the bed sheet tied to the rafters. It worked... eventually.

"Twine me!"

Since the only thing I was allowed to do was roll silverware up in napkins, I took off while my minions were still decorating the park in search of cute underwear to wear under my dress. It occurred to me that morning that I had nothing special and fancy to wear, and I wanted something different than the usual, so off to the mall I went. However, everything was closed but Wal-Mart, because it was Easter Sunday. I never knew that everything shuts down on Easter like it does on Christmas, but it is apparently so. I ended up grabbing several pairs of cute panties in different sizes, just in case, and... apparently my butt is huge, because none of them fit. Like, none of the 6 pairs. That was disappointing.

My mom, who was doing my hair and makeup, came over to our friend's house where us ladies were all getting ready, except that she was late, because that's my mom. She did a beautiful job with my hair and makeup, but because of her lateness and the length of time it took to get me ready, we ended up having to skip our pre-wedding portrait sessions that we had planned. Our photographers were very chill and continually reassured me that being late was no big deal. After all they wouldn't start without me. (Um, being late actually is a big deal. For me, anyway. And I SWORE that my wedding would start on time! Which it did ^_^) So we missed the picture session, but we got to the park with a half hour until the ceremony was supposed to start, so we had time for a first look (which was pretty cute!), and then we mingled with our guests who had already arrived. I suppose that this is a little unorthodox, as many people seemed surprised to see me wandering around in my wedding dress, but I didn't even think about it until later.

She's joking, really. It was a posed shot. Convincing though, no?

I had both of my parents walk me down the aisle, because while my step-dad has really stepped up to be a father to me when I had none, my mom has been my best friend my whole life, and raised me all by herself for most of my life. She and my step-dad only got married 6 years ago. I actually wore the very same dress she wore when she married him. My step-dad's mother was dying of cancer at the time, so to honor her my mom wore a necklace that my step-gramma gave her. When I married in my mother's dress, I wore a necklace made out of a kilt pin that my step-gramma had given to my mom, who then passed it on to me. We kind of made a little tradition there, with the dress and the jewelry from my step-gramma, which I thought was very neat.

When we got to the head of the aisle, my parents handed me off to my groom, and I picked up my walking stick from the officiant, which I had decorated that very afternoon while getting my hair and makeup done. It's the one C bought for me the weekend before at the Renaissance Festival (so I wouldn't have to use my walker as much). I had been hoping to do the deed without any walking aides at all, but I realized the morning of the wedding that I would definitely need some support up there, as well as help walking. I was already dealing with a minor flare, just due to the stress of the wedding and having an influx of people from out of town, but the day of the wedding I awoke in some pretty severe pain. My parents helped me walk down the aisle, and my stick helped me the rest of the time, plus I was downing the upper limits of my pain killers. The neat thing is that most people thought the stick was just for decoration and didn't realize that I actually needed it! That was cool.

The ceremony, which we wrote ourselves, was only about 15 minutes long, and it included a Wax Sealing Unity ceremony, instead of the unity candle or sand. (Our officiant was gaga over our ceremony, by the way. He forgot to do it, but he had wanted to print out copies of the ceremony and have them available at the reception for people to take home. He just so appreciated how meaningful and personal what we put together was, not to mention well-written... which I'll take the credit for. ^_^) I had printed out our vows and one of our readings on a piece of paper, and then we melted two colors of wax together at the bottom of the page and stamped it with our very own wax seal, the Celtic knot of eternity. I couldn't find an actual seal that I liked, so I bought a leatherworking stamp and C assembled a handle for it. During the ceremony there was a place where I maintained the whole time that I was going to read a poem, all the way through to the rehearsal. However, I surprised him by having my guitar handed to me and singing "God Bless the Broken Road" by Rascal Flatts. (The only people in on the surprise were a few people that I told, my friend who was in charge of the guitar, and our officiant.)

Twine me! Oh, I mean-- Ring me!

Actually, the order of things was this: song to C, the vows and ring exchange, the wax sealing ceremony, then the piece de resistance. C's best man/brother D was charged with guarding the wooden ring box with his life, which he did, and then handing both rings over at the appropriate time in the ceremony. In all actuality, he pulled the drawer from the box that held the rings and handed C the drawer.

After the pronunciation and the kiss, we scampered off to my husband's truck for a few minutes to ourselves, where quilts and pillows were set up in the bed of the truck for me to rest on. He had bought a celebratory can of Arizona Green Tea for us to split (our favorite beverage, hands down!), and that's what we ended up using for our toast. We drank out of a drinking horn that we purchased the weekend before at the same Renaissance Festival where I got my stick, but I did it wrong and accidentally splashed tea down the front of my dress. (The dress was fine.) Before the cake cutting or drinking horn toast, my grampa said a blessing for the food and for us as a couple, as I had asked him to, and it was very special for me. I wanted to include him somehow, since he has been my father figure for most of my life, and is basically just a very, very good man. I wanted to honor his role in my life, and I think that having him give the blessing captured that well. It meant a lot to him as well.

Catch sight of the ramen box in the background that the favors never got taken out of? LOL

The cake cutting was kind of funny, because C didn't realize that the ribbon around the cake layers was actual ribbon, so he was a little stymied at first while making the cut. He sawed through that sucker, though, and I fed him a bite of the "normal" cake while he fed me a bite of the "special" cupcakes that J had baked. (The "safe" frosting that I had picked up had been refrigerated as per label instructions for the week before the wedding, after I opened it for the cupcake test run. However, even after letting it sit out overnight it was still very stiff and congealed... so the girls used it as a sculpture opportunity and turned my cupcakes into full blooming roses! How cool is that?) Also, Mom outdid herself in creating TWO cake toppers for our confectionary needs. The first one, the one on the big cake, is one that I designed (sorta), but the second was a surprise to me that she brought with her. She used one of our engagement pictures, and believe it or not used the same heart-knot design around the border that I chose for our cake! And that without communicating about it in any way. Great minds think alike :) (Honestly, I wasn't happy with how they looked on our cake... Sloppy, I thought... but hey, I didn't pay for it, so I don't really care! It was a gift from C's dad and his lady.)

Karateeeee CHOP! (Seriously. That's what I was doing.)

While everyone ate, we had a giant inflatable 20-sided die for people to play with, and some rules to go with it. If you rolled an 11 or higher, the bride and groom would kiss. If you rolled a 10 or below, you had to go kiss someone else! Our good friend was supposed to do a fire breathing show during dinner, but it was too windy for him to perform. He did finally consent to do a little show right before we packed up to leave, but the photographers were already gone, so we only got video. It was pretty awesome, though.

My mom and my husband's brother read toasts from our absentee matron of honor and best man, a married couple, since the best man had joined the military and gotten shipped out the weekend before the wedding. That resulted in his wife and son (matron of honor and flower boy) moving to Texas two weeks before the wedding, which we were all sad about. Fortunately for us, my sister and my husband's brother were willing to stand up there with us as our wedding party. (We had a lot of issues with dearly beloved people not being able to come due to finances, health, school, or all three.) After the reception wound down, my husband and I and our families stepped aside to do those wedding portraits we had missed earlier. While we were doing that, all of our friends pitched in and packed up the decorations and tables and other miscellaneous items we had set up in the park, so that by the time the pictures were done, everything was more or less cleaned up. We were out of there by sunset, headed home to change and pack for our night in the fancy hotel room that I reserved with part of our budget. We stopped on the way home to get some sushi, still in our wedding clothes, and the employee manning the register freaked out. It was hilarious! He took a picture of us on his phone, and the owner (who we've gotten to know through our consistent patronage) asked if he could put us up on the restaurant's Fb page. We said sure. :)

I'm really glad that I have the pictures to look back on. While the day did go by fast, it wasn't a blur, but there were so many things that I just didn't see happen. For instance, while we were trying to light the wick on our wax during the sealing ceremony (during our very windy day, remember?), our officiant stood behind us and spread out his robe in an attempt to block the wind for us. I had no idea until someone told me about it, and then I saw it in pictures later! And the pictures spark memories and stories that might otherwise get covered in dust and forgotten.

Sneak attacked! :)

It was a really, really great day. So many things were different from what I had so carefully planned, and I'm grateful for that. It showed me that even when I "lose control" of a situation or hand the reins over to someone else... it doesn't mean that the world will end, or even that it won't get done well. In fact, so many things were done better than I could have done them myself. It was a valuable set of lessons for me, and it was wonderful to be so showered in love and good wishes from those that came together to make the day possible. It really was a group effort; even though I planned it, they accomplished it. I just got to sit back and watch. Oh, and eat cupcakes. And kiss my new husband. I got the good end of the deal, I think...

Also, having just been to another wedding... C and I found it near impossible to refrain from comparing the wedding we were at to our own wedding. I've decided that I love our wedding. As I said, many things were different than I had planned, but still... It was so much fun! It was bursting with personality. The wedding we attended was sweet, simple, and heartfelt, and I think it matched the couple pretty well. C and I, however, are not your average couple, and our wedding definitely reflected that. I have heard again and again not only how beautiful the wedding was, but much more frequently how much fun it was and how it was so "us". That's the thing that people remember, and that's what I remember. We did it our way, our style, and included the things and people that were important to us. That is what made my wedding day not only memorable but meaningful.