35

My friends threw me a super adorable shower this past Sunday at the McPal house. It was cutely decorated and there were yummy sammiches and cake and cheese and such. My Toronto friends were all there and they gave me some really nice things for the baby, like a charming mobile and books and blankets and sleeping gear. It was a really nice day. I love my friends.

We also got a used rug from McPal, and it's in the nursery now. It really fits in and makes it more of a bedroom space. Touches like that really make it complete and, because I can't help but say so, really ties the room together.

The McPals are the one household I know that have their own helium tank and actually get a lot of great use out of it. We took home many balloons in our Zipcar. The Dude considered leaving them in the trunk for the next person to open it and be assaulted with a ton of helium balloons. But no, they're in the living room. The big one is still holding on. The cats approached them cautiously at first and then nothing exciting happened, which was too bad. I'd hoped maybe Sprinkles would pounce them like the clown she is. Smokey was scared of balloons in his day. Poor old guy probably would have had a heart attack.

And wildly, with the showers over and me being about 35 weeks, that means I have a little over a month until I'm due to give birth. The crunch time to acquire the remaining items has begun, and I have three weeks of work left until I can stop and relax and focus on the baby. It's all happening stupidly fast now.

But the list of things to get has shrunk a ton:
Play yard/bassinet
Bedside table
Gliding rocking chair
Cloth wipe solution
Wrapping baby carrier
Breast pump
Bibs

But in all honesty, the pump and bibs can wait. Well, hopefully the pump can wait, otherwise the Dude will be running an errand shortly after the birth. I don't want to think I'll have issues breastfeeding, but it happens.

I also investigated a daycare in the area. $1450 per month for an infant. $1450. Even if it drops a couple hundred for a toddler, it's still so much money. So, we won't be going there. There's one even closer to our house that I'm going to check out, which my in-laws use. Hopefully it's not also $1450. Jesus, this city is expensive. I mean, I knew that, but hell.

I've already been asked a lot by some family when I'm going to have more and now I think my answer is I'll consider it if someone wants to pay me $1450 a month for three years. Crazy, but having two kids would literally make the difference between ever being able to buy a house, or not.

Just think, a working class man's income alone used to be able to buy a house and provide for a family of six. Now? Pfft. Not bloody likely!

Handy Dandy Friends

The nursery! My friends! They came together in a blaze of glory last Friday night and the result is the baby's room actually looks like a baby has any business being there. There were three things to assemble: crib, hutch and dresser, all of which could have potentially destroyed my marriage to the Dude.

McPal was there, along with our college friend and her husband and her college roommate. We're a happy pack of people who enjoy good food and being crass together. Mostly I shake my head at the crassness. But who am I kidding? We enjoyed some tasty Indian food and cupcakes as well and when they went home we were all stuffed with yummy goodness and general satisfaction.

Here are the fruits of their labour. And I say their because I sat on the sidelines and ordered food and tried to stay comfortable while they made the magic happen.

IKEA dresser.

IKEA hutch.

Sears crib.

It's still in need of a gliding rocker, a bedside table (basically a nursing station) and a rug. McPal has offered us his old rug no longer in use, and I really think it'll tie the room together. Heh. That so never gets old. We also need some crib sheets, a toy box for the stuff you see in the crib, and I want some wall decals.

And in the window we have the handcrafted gift from the Dude's stepmom:

Lovely.

We spent the following Sunday organizing our baby things and putting them into the dresser and hutch.  The clothes and blankets and diapers are all put away. We got a lot of disposables at the shower, which will come in handy for a newborn. The BumGenius 4.0s I bought would be excessively bulky on a wee thing, and the disposables will leave room for the umbilical cord. So, once we run out of those, we'll transition over. And that'll save us laundry while we get used  to the ohmygodwe'reparents first couple weeks.

I'm officially at 34 weeks.

Taken in the bathroom at Windsor Arms a couple days ago.
Classy!

Above is a picture I took courtesy of the full length mirror and flattering light of the Windsor Arms Hotel. My friends and I went to Twilight Tea there on Monday, which is essentially tea time for dinner, and as usual had a scrumptiously good time. Having a baby is definitely going to impact my now-easy ability to do these sorts of things. One, the expense may not work into the budget, and two I'd have to leave bebe with the Dude and some expressed milk, as I'm not the sort of person who'd bring a wee one to a quiet tea room. Three, no more Twilight tea, only Sunday tea because the Dude has a wonky work schedule that can't be relied upon on weeknights.

As you may imagine, I'm soaking up the freedom now.

Into the light

Yesterday was memorable. Many days aren't because no matter what you're doing, it's mostly more of the same, where you're not making memories, and just going through your regular tasks or doing things you always do. But occasionally you have a day that stands out. I'll do this chronologically.

I gave blood for the first time yesterday. It was easy, it was like getting a quick check-up, and apparently it burns 500 calories, which was news to me and made me fantasize about what I was going to eat for lunch. I felt no dizziness, no weakness, had healthy hemoglobin and got a little pin to commemorate my first time. I'll receive a blood donor card in the mail in several weeks with my blood type and I was told one donation saved the lives of three people.

And I had always heard "blood saves lives" before and thought somehow that it was extreme. But I guess you don't receive blood unless you need it to live. There are no frivolous blood transfusions. Needing blood or plasma is not take-it-or-leave-it. So that was pleasing. I saw people coming in the whole time, a steady stream filling the chairs and it was nice to see that. I think I'll do it again.

I had a hair appointment afterwards, transforming my scraggled ends and long roots into something beautiful and suitable for the wedding I'll be attending this Saturday. I always have fun at the salon. It's a nice group of women I enjoy talking to.

I made my way home slowly, stopping for a pita, for a gelato. When I got home I did a reverse lookup on a phone number that had called my cell early that morning. The voicemail was garbled and I couldn't make it out, though the number was familiar and from my hometown. And it was my buddy's parents' number. And it was my buddy's sister who called. And there were two messages on my home phone from them. And I realized something must be wrong.

It was my buddy who relayed the news on my voicemail telling me his father died suddenly of a heart attack. It was the sort of news you instantly don't believe and in the next instant realize is true. And my buddy delivered this news in a confused and foggy haze, probably because it was so hard to understand. When your father leaves the house and he's fine, he's supposed to come home. Sudden deaths are more than rattling, they can shake you out of reality.

His dad was a really great guy, too. I keep thinking about him and I can't really believe that just like that he's gone. He was a good father. You could see that in the way he spoke to his kids. He loved them and was proud of them, and truly enjoyed them as people. And he was loving and considerate of his wife and they built a new house together for their retirement years. Their marriage was enviable. Not everybody gets to find that kind of happiness.

I spent so many evenings at buddy's house with his family. We ate many meals, watched movies, had so many conversations. When Buddy and I went to college together they drove us back and forth between our college town and our hometown. When my dad threw me out, I had sanctuary at their place. They looked after Smokey and Jerry when they had nowhere else to go. This was a household that was open and full of love, and Buddy's dad was half the equation. He loved a good joke and enjoyed laughing. He smiled easily and had a swift mind. His company was easy and relaxing. I remember each evening hearing him offer to fix his wife a drink. Small sorts of chivalry and thoughtfulness peppered their routine.

And he was only in his 60s. There is no real fairness in the world when it comes to who dies. Some people try to make sense or order, but in the end, life is fragile and people who are loved and valued and needed die and leave a hole in people's lives. It's a simple truth I learned a long time ago, but it aches to think about it. And I know they're suffering and I so much want to comfort them and be there and do whatever is in my power to do. And in there needs to be consideration for not intruding too much in the delicate days of making arrangements and fielding phone calls and visits.

There's a certain helplessness. Not because I don't know what to say, but because I wish I could make the grief ache less, because it's really a shock to the system. Losing a good parent is awful. Losing one of the people in this world who loves you unconditionally is a painful milestone. I wish there was something I could do; I would do it.

Urban Farming, Modern Life

The garden, she's growing! Growing! I posted a wee while ago about the garden and photographed the work we did planting it. Here be the update, yo.

The flowers are growing nicely!

The tomato plant is sprouting up. 

The bell pepper plant is growing taller and more robust.

The beans have sprouted!
We're going to lace them up the metal.

The initial leaves on this zucchini plant died and these larger ones grew instead.

The strawberry plants are now growing 17 strawberries.

Flowers have blossomed!

The Dude gave me a rosebush.
You can't see in this photo, but buds have formed.

We're pretty much in love with this garden. I spend the most amount of time on it, being the one who's home the most. It's relaxing, the plucking out of weeds, watering, and eventually harvesting. We planted garlic last spring that didn't grow and didn't die. It did develop tiny bulbs, which in my ignorance I never separated. So I gentled wrenched them away from each other and dispersed them around the soil and so maybe we'll also have home-grown garlic.

Speaking of gardens, two of our friends just moved into this lovely house on the east end, a stone's throw from McPal and his fiance, and their backyard was recently landscaped, something the McPal house is planning on as well. There's something magical about a private outdoor space in the city. You take it for granted in the burbs or in smaller municipalities, but in Toronto, it's rather rare and special. Now the six of us, in three households, have backyards for gardening, barbecues and general glee. Though of course we're not going to be doing any landscaping. This is, after all, a rental.

We all had a barbecue together at the new house. Two dogs were playing, meat was grilling, beer was being consumed and homemade cream soda was being concocted. Some of us are in our 30s already, and others are approaching it quickly (Me. ME!) and it was sort of wild to speculate that we were all adults, moving forward. Though in my mind I was also gently noticing some key differences. I'm a renter, not a home owner. A cat(s) owner, not a dog owner. A west-ender, not an east-ender. And funnily, three of the four all work at the same company. It was a strange sensation of feeling sort of out of the loop. Not sad or negative in any way, just a tickling in my mind, noticing these details.

We've been spending less and less time with our friends. This is mostly due to the Dude. His work schedule is crazy. He works 60 hours many weeks. Overnight trips are not infrequent. Weekend work happens. The money is nice, though sometimes those long nights are just par for the course on photo shoots and don't actually translate into more cash, only less energy. He'll come home exhausted, occasionally cranky, unwilling or unable to consider a social life. Sometimes I'll have one without him, other times I've missed him and I'll take his lethargic couch hugging over more time apart spent with others.

I'd say we're weathering some challenges. It's not the first time. After he graduated, the Dude took awhile to find steady work and that was also hard. He and I are communicating and doing our best, handling crankiness, trying to carve out room for each other, managing our obligations and still trying to have a social life. We're figuring it out and I think it's making us a stronger couple. I have one week left of vacation. I wish he was off too.

The Wedding

I'm married. I've had a day and a half to let it sink in, and in small ways it's beginning to. I totally understand the importance of a honeymoon, though. If we were away somewhere, just the two of us, I think it would really give us a chance to absorb our new relationship status. People have called me Mrs. Dude, though I am keeping my name. The Dude's finger has a ring on it, which doesn't look natural yet. Thinking about the future has a slightly different sensation, in a pleasant way.

The day of the wedding, things were calm. I was in a great mood, I was excited and had some adrenaline going, but we all still managed to have a rather calm and charming day.

Lyn and I had breakfast, my maid of honour showed up around 10:00 and hair and makeup began around 11:30ish when my cousin arrived. McPal got there before 1:00 and we watched Bridesmaids. The photographer got there by 2:00 and we had a fun time, still relaxed and yet peppy. My planner got there around the same time, with flowers, and she helped us get ready, keeping us on schedule.

I was feeling really great. I knew I was marrying the right man, I was going to be surrounded by people I loved, my bridal party was supportive and happy for me, and I looked exactly the way I had wanted to.

We did our party shots prior to the wedding, because I didn't want to expose the ladies in their chiffon dresses to the November chill. We did a handful of good shots and the photographer left to shoot the groomsmen at the venue. The limo came not long after, and I don't remember how long the limo ride was. I had to text about our arrival, so people would be ready. It was so weird. I was en route to get married. I was in a wedding dress. Everyone was waiting for us to get there. It was a very surreal moment in time.

We were a little frazzled getting ourselves in order. We were about 10 minute late for the ceremony start, and the Dude's brothers zoomed past us to find their seats. Matt and the groomsmen had already taken their places. Music was starting. My high school friends were strolling down the hall. I was waving wildly at them and they waved back and smiled. I hissed, "Run! Run!" and run they did, clomp, clomp, clomp into the ceremony room, making a ruckus. It was pretty funny. Somehow all the confusion sort of suited me. This was not a perfect moment, it was a real situation that could not be controlled. There was a momentum and people were falling into it.

When it was my turn, my nerves instantly faded. It was a sense of being exactly where I was supposed to be. My fears of all that attention were gone and I felt like I was surrounded by positive energy. It was really warm in there, not in a temperature sense for me, but just very comfortable and natural. Walking myself down the aisle was a very gratifying experience. I felt like a grown woman making an important decision on my own. Which I am, which I was.

I cried, the Dude smiled and his mouth was twitching. He was so nervous and I could tell he couldn't bear to look at all the people. We held eye contact the entire time. My tears and his smile, and our officiant speaking so well and so beautifully. We had two poems, one at the start about the art of marriage, and another at the end about love.

We exchanged the rings we made, we said our vows, which were traditional, and said our "I dos", not in that order. After our kiss and signing the registry, we looked out to the crowd as we were announced as a married couple. The wedding wands were waving in the air, the ribbons flying, the bells jingling softly, and everyone was smiling. We went down the aisle, hand in hand, and I felt so happy, and just so contented.

A makeshift receiving line formed, one we hadn't planned on, but happened naturally as people wanted to congratulate us. It was very sweet and took a short time, as we had only 85 people to greet. Within 10 minutes, we had seen everyone and were ready for pictures.

Of course, my dad wanted his own pictures before the photographer could get in there. Actually, he took me away from other people and other cameras about a dozen times that night. He made something of a bad impression a few times, but otherwise behaved himself. My brother was full of smiles. I was so glad to see him so happy for me.

Outside our photographer, a friend of Matt's, got some lovely shots. I had a cute cardigan to brave the chill and we spent maybe 20 minutes out there. All of our other shots with our party were done, so we spent the rest of the cocktail hour socializing with our guests. It was great.

At 7:00, it was time for dinner, we didn't bother with any sort of special entrance, and things got going shortly. There were some nice speeches, from the Dude's dad, my dad, the Dude's stepbrother and his mom. His mom's speech was epic. I knew it was going to be good. It seriously rocked the room. The Dude capped off the speeches and he did really well. It was short, sweet and charming.

Then our first dance. Oh, I love the song we used, No One's Gonna Love You. It sounds terrible, but the second part of that sentence is, "more than I do." We had wanted people to join us, but my buddy didn't mention that when he announced us, so no one did. I can't recall if I told him about our wishes or not. Whoops. But either way, it happened the way it happened, it was sweet and we enjoyed ourselves.

Then it was dance time. But first my dear little aunt wanted a picture. She had wanted one in the receiving line and I had asked her to wait. So now the whole room waited while she took the moment to get her picture. It was actually kind of funny just how bad her timing was. Once the dance floor opened, it was open and people were on the floor.

The cake was a funny situation. My planner said it was time, and the Dude ran off to find the photographer. They disappeared for five minutes after the cake cutting was announced. It was so awkward and absurd. No one could find them and we were all standing around to background music waiting and waiting. When the Dude ran back in there was some applause and we got down to business. It was a damn fine cake. The fridge is currently housing a ridiculous amount of it.

The wedding went on till 1:00. Two thirds of the guests stayed till the end. The alcohol was flowing and people made good use of it, the dance floor had people up and on their feet, everyone had good things to say about the food, the party in general, my dress. I called a cab company and asked for pretty much every cab. People got going, I wrangled things I needed to get home, tried to make sure people had what they needed and, you know, I'm pretty thankful for daylight saving's time. Instead of getting in bed by 3:00, it was really 2:00.

I didn't drink any alcohol that night. I didn't want to make numerous trips to the bathroom, I didn't want to forget anything, and honestly, I just didn't need it. I couldn't eat much either. I think I was too full of energy, and with the corset on my dress, I just didn't have room. It was too bad, but I'd done the tasting with the Dude so at least I'd had the meal before.

When the Dude woke up the next day, he said, "Good morning, wife." And it was so lovely.

I had exactly the wedding I wanted. I never set out for a perfect day, but somehow that translated into me having a perfect day. I feel so satisfied.

Three

Three days till I get married. Three. Three days. Cue The Count from Sesame Street. Bwahahahaha!

Dude, seriously.

Am I worried about spending the rest of my life with the Dude? No. Am I concerned about whether he's the right man? No. Do I feel doubts about whether I want to get married? No.

I am rather nervous, though. And about what, if not the above? I'm getting anxiety about that many people looking at me.

I enjoy commanding a certain amount of attention in specific situations.

For example, at a smallish party filled with enough people I know, I like the times when I'm telling a story and I'm being listened to by lots of people. When I've put effort into a cute outfit and I see people pass me on the street and notice me, I feel good. At Halloween when I'm wearing a great costume, I enjoy it being seen. And of course people reading this blog gives me satisfaction.

But generally speaking, I'm not much of an attention getter. I'm unaccustomed to it. We're talking walk into a room in a fancy dress to some music and everyone stands up and stares at me. Blargh. However, only 85 guests will be there (We invited 117. Yay small weddings!). Only 85, and I have met nearly all of them. So this one issue might not be worth stressing over. But still... I'm pretty sure I'm going to tremble down the aisle.

Lyn is here and ready to help. Thing is I don't need any help with planning or anything, as everything is done. My last week is work-free, pretty much. What I do need help with is getting my mind off my anxiety, and to that tune I've really liked showing her around the city. We hit Roncesvalles and went through Queen West, till Yonge and went north to Dundas Square. Downtown was alight and bustling, Queen West was it's usual smorgasbord of districts, shops and people, and Roncy was bright and charming. Ah, Toronto.

Today it's the Distillery District. I've never actually been. Well, no. I think I was there maybe eight years ago when I came in from out of town, but I'm not sure. So I may as well have never been there. I've been wanting to go for quite some time and it's a great thing to show to someone visiting.

Tomorrow is my spa day, and in the evening it's more time with friends. Joy and fun! And it'll totally be relaxing to get my mind off of being in the centre of this whirlwind.

Last Day of Work

In a matter of days, my friend/bridesmaid Lyn from California will be here in Toronto, in Canada for the first time, and man will it be chilly times. I'm looking forward to showing her around the city: Roncesvalles, the Annex, Queen West, maybe the Distillery District or Little Italy. There's something awesome about introducing someone to the city you love. I haven't seen her since May of last year, so this is going to be great.

I'm also looking forward to having her meeting my other friends in my party. My maid of honour has met McPal, but my cousin from Vancouver and Lyn have met nobody. I foresee a good group. It's hard not to imagine harmony and fun times when all people concerned are so great.

I've just finished my last day of work for 10 days. I don't totally need the time for wedding planning. Everything is actually done now. But I had the time, and Lyn's in town, so why the hell not? I never take as much vacay as I really should. It tends to pile up while I get frazzled about life and still not take time off.

Things I have left to do:

1. Change my life insurance over to the Dude instead of my brother.
2. Make a final payment to the florist.
3. Make a final payment to DJ.
4. Pick up my dress.
5. Go to the bank and withdraw all the monies I'll need to pay certain people in cash day-of.
6. Get final cost from the venue and write them a cheque.
7. Spend some more time breaking in my shoes.
8. Go to my colonic and spa appointments.

And then it's just the day before, where I'll have my colonic early in the day, check into my hotel with my dress and Lyn, go to the rehearsal, set up some centrepieces, and then go out for dinner back at the hotel. Easy peasy. I'm so glad I got a planner for the nitty gritty vendor stuff for the last week. Otherwise, I'd probably be more stressed out.

I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone, and I'm highly anticipating a time after the wedding where I can channel my emotional investment into other things in my life.

Soul Mates

I'm getting married in 19 days. What the hell.

So I had my bachelorette party the other night, and the Dude had his bachelor party the same evening. My maid of honour set it up, which considering she lives out of town, was a feat. Most of my friends came and we had a really nice meal and drinks.

My MOH also set up a psychic reading for me at the restaurant. I love that shit. I've only been to a psychic once before, coincidentally a few months ago, and both psychics said the same thing. Either I'm super easy to read/gauge for these type of entertainers, or perhaps both are the real deal in some way. I'm open to the concept of mediums, the second sight and other spiritual matters. I'm also cognizant of not taking a reading at literal value.

Both ladies have told me the following:

1. I'm having a baby next year.
2. I'll have three babies total.
3. I'm going on a big trip and that it's going to be lucky/important.

So who knows.

The psychic at my party drew cards from her deck that said "Reflection", "Abundance" and "Love." So that was nice.

She also said the Dude and I were soul mates. Now, I don't believe in soul mates. I think two souls made for each other out in the universe and then finding each other and completing a perfect union is rubbish. Anyone who is holding out for such a magical love is kidding themselves and probably throwing away perfectly good relationships.

But I think two people can become soul mates in a way. Not that it becomes magic and cosmic, but that your love is mature and your communication works, respect goes both ways, your attraction sustains and your compatibility becomes an organic part of who you are as a person.

I feel like I know the Dude better than I know anybody, better than I've ever known anyone in my life. Are we soul mates? I don't worry about that question. I'm too certain of my choice to really consider it. But that doesn't mean it's not sweet to hear.

Tea Shower

I have now had three showers. The third was held yesterday by McPal and his fiance on a humid Sunday afternoon and it was the sort of day that makes you love life.

Now, these two are the sorts of people who embody all that is home and garden goodness. To that end, they held a tea party with sandwich squares: cucumber and smoked salmon, plus tuna melts. Then homemade scones with homemade cream and raspberry confit. Then petit fours and this ohmygoditssogood chocolate covered peanut butter cheesecake ball. From scratch.

They had helium balloons, white flower arrangements and we drank tea out of this charming china set on their patio, which had been decorated with white bunting.

I didn't realize they'd go to all this trouble and was even more floored to discover a group of them had gone in on a Kitchen-Aid mixer. Yeah. My friends are generous and incredibly kind people. Out of all the things I didn't see coming, that was somewhere at the top of a list I couldn't have conceived. I also received these lovely whisky glasses and chilling stones. Did you know those existed? I didn't! They're so neat!

I feel loved. Seeing my friends take pleasure in making me happy gave me a really wonderful feeling.

I held back telling the Dude about the Kitchen-Aid, wanting him to see it for himself. He was stunned. He took it inside, came back out, and snapped out of his shock enough to splutter a thank you. He was pretty touched.

And now that we're less than three months to go, things are really starting to move. There's still quite a number of things to be done, which is incredible to me considering how much I did in advance. And I'm pretty grateful I did them in advance now because although it's busier for me now, I can still take a moment to breathe and relax.

Not tonight, though. Tonight we're doing the property management thing, renting a Zipcar, and buying some vinyl flooring to replace the nasty carpet going down the stairs. Home project ahoy!

Little bit of this, bit of that...

I got somewhere in the neighbourhood of three to four hours of sleep last night. I have never been able to maintain a normal sleep schedule, with the exception of when I worked as a chamber maid in the summers between college years. But even then when I had to wake up at 6:00, I still couldn't sleep till 11:30 or 12:00, and I need eight hours to feel like a human being. I'm an inherent night owl.

I've fallen into a bit of a routine these past few weeks. Now that a garden needs my attention and the days are so beautiful that not stepping out into the sunshine is criminal, I spend a portion of my afternoons in the garden, watering, weeding, admiring the new growth. I took some pictures of the progress over half a week ago, but never got them off the camera and now they're outdated. Which is great because that means things are growing.

I tend to do dishes before my work shift is over, usually when I reheating some lunch. After work, I do some flexibility exercises in the office while listening to music. Bea likes to join me and curls around my legs and crawls into my lap while I'm stretching out my legs.

What a calm state of affairs this is.

There's certain things with the wedding that are yet to be handled, but I'm still ahead of schedule. I usually channel my insomnia into wedding planning, which is likely why I'm so on track. There's a boatload to do with this sort of event, but even more or less solo I seem to find time for it all due to my nocturnal proclivities.

Guest list
Venue
Dress/Shoes/Accessories
Tux/Shoes
Groomsmen wear
Bridesmaid dresses
Music
Flowers
Cake
Booking officiant
Ceremony planning
Rings
Out of town hotel blocking
Licence
Invitations
Seating chart/place settings
Favours
Centrepieces
Transportation
Booking hotel room
Trial hair and makeup
Booking hair appointments

If there actually was a way to have this all done in advance, I'd have the wedding done already. It's not like I'm this way in all areas of my life, though. There are certain things I like to leave to the last minute, like getting up in the morning. When I was a child, I used to run to the bus with my knapsack open, one shoe on, carrying the other, with my coat in the crook of my elbow, trying to stuff my lunch into my bag. Making a specatacle of myself was worth sleeping in till the last possible second. Wedding planning doesn't really fall under the same category, however. Five months to go until it's a memory.

In other related wedding news, McPal and his boyfriend are no longer boyfriends, but... (drum roll) fiances! How exciting! They'll be getting married in a little over a year, possibly two. They were both going to propose to each other in Paris while they were on vacation, but they got robbed and thus thwarted in London, preventing them from seeing Paris. And in the midst of the ransacked flat, they each revealed their intentions for Paris, and McPal proposed. Romantic!

I love love.

High Tea

Today was a day of adult pleasures. And I don't mean XXX pleasures, I mean some friends and I went out to the Windsor Arms for high tea. It's not the sort of thing you do in your early twenties. Sundays then are for greasy breakfasts at dives to recover from the night before, where you'll recap your evening with hungover friends over a plate of bacon and hashbrowns. Been there, enjoyed it. But that era of my life, such as it was, is over like Grover.

It was really fun and charming, and I think we had some of the best conversation possible. How could you not while drinking pot of aromatic looseleaf tea in a delicate butterfly teacup? I gave myself a mini facial and then dressed for the occasion in a retro-inspired green dress and a delicate sequin-collared cardigan and the wrongest shoes I could have selected for a rainy day. I had a soaker in both shoes by the time I got there and my feet were going squish-squish.

There's no classy way to dry your feet in an expensive hotel lounge, so I had to go to the bathroom, remove my sopping shoes and dry them with paper towel. This is probably the third or fourth time I've worn these inappropriate shoes to the wrong place and suffered the consequences. I wore them on a walk through High Park and got them filthy. I wore them on an excursion in Mexico to Coba and climbed a monument and my arches ached. I wear them out in the rain and they always get waterlogged. I really don't know why I keep doing it.

But anyway, the tea, back to the tea. The tea was wonderful. The waiter brought out the layered tea trays with scones and treats and these cylindrical sandwiches that resembled sushi. The scones were what all scones should be. They melted. There was cream and jam. McPal's boyfriend said his grandma called the cream the food of the gods. I said if I were God, I'd eat that cream every day. There was whipped cream and strawberries. We were there for two and a half hours and I'm still actually full at 12:30 a.m.

I can't believe there was an era of time when people just did a tea every day. Perhaps it would lose its lustre if it was a mandatory daily thing, but I can't see how. What a sad thing more people don't have the time to sit down to some tea and treats and talk. The four of us were wishing we could always have high tea. McPal and his boyfriend wanted to throw a tea party. Hell, I want to throw a tea party.

I know this means I'm getting old. I don't even care. High tea and my friends makes me happy. Getting older and maturing means doing what you really want to do instead of what you think is cool. Speaking of which, we have a craft club coming up. I love being 28 and I love being a nerd. I also love that being 28 frees me of any self consciousness I ever had about embracing that.

28

I'm 28, and one year closer to 30. Despite the name of this blog, I don't fear 30. It'll be kinda neat in a way. I think I've spent my 20s pretty well. I've had a ton of apartments, some relationships, travel experiences. I've made and nurtured friendships and developed some hobbies. I've also done a lot of reflection on my past, as well. I've learned a lot about myself.

Basically I feel like I've made good use of my time.

My 28th birthday was exactly the sort of evening I love. It was entirely about sharing time with my friends and eating delicious food. When I was younger I used to despair over who I wasn't and what I wasn't doing. I didn't "go out". I wasn't a drinker, I never went to concerts, I didn't have a wide circle of party pals.

Turns out I don't like concerts. I really don't. I'll go to the odd one if it's easy, or if the act is truly impressive or someone really wants me to go. But I like quieter settings. I like being able to make out the lyrics to music. I need to be able to sit down. Concerts just rub me the wrong way and they always have. To be honest, they bore me. And try explaining that to most people. I enjoy music as a human being, but I never have the urge to go out of my way to experience it in more authentic and personal ways.

And drinking? I get sick from alcohol really easily. After a few drinks, I'm drunk. Anything beyond that sends me to toilet town and my night is over. So I have to nurse my drinks and turn people down who shout, "SHOTS!" or who think they're doing me a favour by placing a drink in front of me. Which of course makes nobody popular with anyone.

As for a wide circle of friends, I'm picky. I'm just plain picky. I suck at small talk and I really want to know someone if I'm going to spend time with them. I have a knack, if you want to call it that, for getting people to get super personal with me with total ease. That's where I go, and that's where people go with me pretty much all the time. I enjoy it. But you only have so much energy to nurture so many friendships. I also wonder if anyone ever regrets telling me certain things, because sometimes what I hear is pretty out there, and then never wants to see me again.

So my birthday had my friends, dear friends who I love. A couple were missing, but most of the people I really value were there. We drank, but not to excess. There actually was no music playing. Our conversation and laughter would have drowned it out anyway. And we stayed in and played Scruples, and philosophized over bizarre topics most people wouldn't touch.

They're my kind of people. This is my kind of life. The closer I get to 30, the happier I am, and the more comfortable I am with who I am. I wouldn't be a younger me for anything.

Roughly a Dozen

Ah, 2:30 a.m., the best time to be on the Internet instead of bed. No, not really. But here we are. Well, here I am. I'm going to assume anyone who reads this gets into bed at a reasonable hour, unlike myself.

I went to my very first concert this weekend, Lady Gaga. The lady knows how to put on a show. Unfortunately for the four of us who went, we were in the nosebleed section. And that's with $100 tickets. I really wouldn't have spent any more than that, not being a concert person to begin with. But this was different. And it was great to be out with women. Lately I've been realizing I socialize a lot more with men.

And it's nice. Men are fun, good times and good companions in life. But I ache for female friendships. It's just that my male friends live here and my female friends keep moving away, or moving farther away, or have been far away to begin with.

I don't make new friends very easily. I never have. I don't know why. I can't see myself nearly as objectively as I'd need to in order to figure that one out. But it always hits me that I have a harder time than most.

Like in belly dance I overhear women I've been dancing with for 6-12 months talk to each other. We're on a friendly class-type acquaintance basis, but the women I overheard are in contact outside of class and have each other's cell numbers. The same sort of thing happened in my drop-in improv class a few years ago. I really learned to come out of my shell, but it was other people who connected and made plans outside of class, not me. No one ever wants my contact information to hang out. I never see the openings to ask for theirs.

I don't think I'm bad company. I actually get pretty good feedback from my friends, who tell me what their friends have said about me after meeting. Usually good things, someone's taken a shine to me, or loves the way I express myself, or that I'm really cute. But it's almost as if I'm a walking standup act or a living performance exhibit. Not that I myself am being inauthentic, but more that people enjoy me in the present but don't wish to connect with me beyond that.

And I don't really know why. I do know that there are roughly about a dozen people I've met in my entire life that I've really sparked with, not counting those I've always known because they're in a class of their own. I never forget them or how they made me feel, which is pretty much feeling like a person.

I have the knack of making an impression. I'm rarely forgotten. I can make people laugh. I'm good at that. I can turn a phrase, tell a story and mingle. I just can't make friends. It's always like some force I have nothing to do with when a new friend enters my life. I let people go very rarely because they're so rare.

I wish that was different about me. I'm 27 years old and I don't know this fundamental aspect of being a fully realized person. It makes me feel lonely.

Happy as a Pig in Soup

Today I got back from a trip to my hometown to see a close friend of mine. We did a lot of everything and a lot of nothing, which makes for a good trip.

Much time was spent outdoors, and unfortunately, just a tad too much of it out in the sun. And when you're fair-skinned like the two of us are, you get burned like ass. She got the worst of it. My arms suffered some rough times, but her chest lobsterized.

We left her house around 9:30 in the morning, shopping downtown commenced around 10:30, we went to a crafts fair at 12:30, and near collapsed into a patio around 2:30. Thing is I was ready for a nap. Sweet murdering bathmats was I ready for a nap. I discussed the possibility of one at the patio, and heard general agreement about taking it easy. I started living for a siesta around 3:00. It was about the only thing that was keeping me going.

But then we stopped in the market and the sun was beating down and I felt faint and crispy, so I sat down in the merciful shade nearby while my friend and a new acquaintance browsed. It was pleasant and I spritzed my face with a spray my friend had tossed my way. Then a smelly sexually ambiguous person sat down next to me and lit a cigarette, so I cut my losses and headed back out into the glare of the unforgiving sun.

We went back to a store to pick up a print she had wanted to buy and had set aside. I looked around for the print I had decided I couldn't live without and sadly found it had been sold.

We still had to go to the store for spinach and feta for a quiche we were somehow going to make at her place. There we ran into her boyfriend who invited us to a BBQ. My friend told me I literally looked terrified at the offer.

When we got back to her place I promptly fell asleep in a way that couldn't be stopped. It was like a baby who had no choice but to sleep, or like someone dying whose time had come, thank god. I was out like a light. My friend received calls all night to get us to come out to this BBQ, but we stayed in, made the quiche and generally vegetated while we recuperated from our afternoon.

Maybe this sounds like a bad day, but it wasn't. With the right company, these mishaps aren't problems, they're shenanigans and are fun and enjoyable. With a good friend, a sort of camaraderie occurs. It's too bad we don't live closer. She's probably my favourite friend to have a crazy day with.

Here is the print she bought. If it doesn't make you happy, you're nuts.

This pig's expression fills me with glee.

Up In The Air

I wrote this in the air yesterday. Only now am I rested enough to get online and post it.

I'm writing this from aboard the plane. I'm on my way home. But I'm only on the first flight to Chicago. It's a long way yet. I haven't eaten. The clock says it's 7:30 pm. That hardly seems possible. The whole weekend hardly seems possible.

I met my friends. And I loved them all as well as I did on the boards. And those who weren't from the boards or knew what the boards even were couldn't understand how we all managed to come together in real life. It's was an exercise in patience trying to make them understand and even so it was met with little success. It's just another thing we share: No one in our lives really gets it.

As for chronicling the wedding, I don't even know where to start. Even starting at the beginning seems impossible. There's too much to cover. But I'll try, and I'll do it in point form. And I'll use the screen handles instead of their real names for the sake of privacy.

* When I arrived at the airport, I met up with Lyn and folkimp. Folkimp drove us to our hotel and we drank wine and got to know each other better. We then met up with Anon and JT (the bride and groom) and the wedding party and went out drinking. Lyn and I woke up in hell the next morning and forced our asses out of bed to get hamburgers.

* Folk got into a car accident en route to our hotel the day of the wedding. She was taken to the ER with a concussion. She missed the wedding and we missed her. It was a total bummer that she couldn't make it. It was the worst text message to receive, the first chunk being along the lines of, "Hey, got into a car accident…" But she's alright.

* Jillraye (from the boards) came to our hotel with champagne and picked us up. It was my first time meeting her and she was just like I thought she would be.

* At the wedding we sat at the back and giggled and gossiped. Anon came down the aisle looking like a renaissance queen. The pastor started the service, a very old school biblical reading about a wife's servitude to her husband. The three of us in the back started laughing because we thought he was kidding. Turns out he wasn't and we felt sheepish.

* After the wedding we met up with pinstripe (from the boards) and her boyfriend, who was lovely, and incidentally wearing a pinstripe suit. We all sat at the same table and my camera died, after an afternoon of taking lacklustre pictures. I pretty much need a new camera. I also met OCDB (from the boards) and his wife.

* I caught the bouquet. It's actually the third or fourth bouquet I've caught in my life. I'm not sure what that means. I was actually well at the back behind everyone, figuring it wouldn't come my way there. Then it did. So I pranced over and claimed it. Then of course everyone wanted to know when the Dude and I were getting married, and for my information, they wanted to come for board reunion II a la Canada.

* At the back of the venue, mike_a (from the boards) got into a wrestling match with another guest. The cops showed up and… watched. Mike lost. I'd never seen a wrestling match at a wedding before, and it certainly did enhance the evening.

* JT held an after party at his place and we stayed till 2:00 a.m. A guest kept asking me to sing O Canada in French. I did once, and was then treated to a loud but highly enthusiastic rendition of the Star Spangled Banner. The cops showed up there too to ask that we either have less fun outside or more fun inside. A gentleman friend of Jill's showed up, one she had mentioned on the boards, who was good enough to drive us back to the hotel.

Lyn's dad dropped me off at the airport today. It was ridiculously easy compared to Friday and I had excess time to kill.

I've had good times at weddings before, but this was really special to me. Everyone was fun, my long-time friends were there, the whole weekend felt like quality time. And the cake was delicious.

I feel like I've tumbled around in a cement mixer. All the drinking, the sporadic eating, the time changes and delayed sleep have kicked my arse. But I'd do it all again. I'd do it all again feeling as tired and rundown as I do now. The only thing I'm sad about it that it's over, and it's hard to say if such a gathering of us all will ever happen again, or moreover on such a large scale. I hope so.

And the captain is telling us our flight is coming to a close shortly. The first leg of my trip home is nearly complete. I can't wait to see the Dude. I think the only thing that would have made it better would have been to introduce him to them all.

Pre-wedding

I'm in California and I'm hung over. And the wedding is today. My trusty board friend and I overdid it a little last night, and because we're not 22 years old anymore, we feel like we've been hit by trucks. She's napping, I'm drinking Gatorade.

Man, hangovers used to be funny, or at least a source of pride that you went out and partied last night, wooo! You know? Now they just make you feel like a jackass. The wedding's at 6:00; it's 1:30. Less than five hours to pull our asses in gear.

But let me talk about the airport, because it was a really special experience for me.

I arrived at 3:15, with my flight leaving at 5:50. I get to the kiosk to plug in my information so I can avoid the devastatingly long line to check in. I pull out the two sheets of paper I had printed out with all my information, only... it had none of my information. I, in my wisdom, had put my complete faith in technology and had grabbed the pages from the printer without bother to check them, where I would have noticed that the only thing that came out was the fine print, and nothing of importance.

So I took the long route, entering my name, my credit card, my passport, my destination, and eventually the kiosk asked me a question that stumped me. But not before revealing to me that my boarding pass had me listed with an error in my name. Basically, rather than Jendra Dammit Berri, it said Jendradammit Berri. Don't people get barred from entering planes with that sort of thing wrong?

So without my flight number, booking reference or, you know, anything, I meekly got in the bitterly long line and fretted. And when it came my turn I could only apologize for being such a nuisance while a woman asked me question after question that I couldn't answer, or answer in full. But I got my pass, and Jendradammit was ready for customs.

I was wrong to feel a little soul-crushed by the first line. The customs line was very exciting, in a holy-shit-I'm-going-to-have-to-set-up-camp-and-live-here-because-the-line-is-so-long kind of way. Plus the guy in front of me started singing indiscernible songs, which always adds a sense of facepalm to any undesirable situation.

But eventually the line did end and we were all then ushered into a second long line. Then after customs, security, which is always fun. You get to take off your shoes and partially undress and then scramble afterwards so you don't stall anyone else.

I arrived at my gate. And then after 20 minutes an announcement was made that my flight was leaving on the other end of the terminal at a different gate.

By the time I landed at 8:00 Pacific time (11:00 in my head), I was a tad wired. I'd consumed only caffeinated drinks and a slice of banana bread. I met up with my board friends and we drank wine. Then we went out with the bride and groom and drank shots.

Hence the hangover. We've been having fun. We've been slowly dying. There's more to come. Frig, the wedding hasn't even happened yet.

Three Weddings and a...

Turns out the upcoming May 15-16 weekend is busier than the May 24. Wild. That is the weekend I'm going to a wedding in California. It's also the weekend of The Clothing Show, my road hockey team's charity tournament, Mayfest (Which I was hoping to sort out something with my job to distribute surveys to the deaf), and who knows what else will pop up. Even a coworker of mine wanted that weekend off, but two of us in our job description already got to it first.

Crazy. But out of all those things, the wedding it is, and I'm happy with my choice. 12 days until I leave.

I've not been to too many weddings in previous years. I went to a very good friend's wedding in 2004 and was her maid of honour. I went to a cousin's wedding in 2007. In 2008, I went to the Dude's stepbrother's wedding, and a friend of mine who finally was able to marry her fiance after living in Saudi Arabia without him for pretty much forever. I missed attending as a guest to one wedding in 2005 because I had appendicitis, and another wedding I was actually banned from attending in 2007.

(The last one was Buddy B's brother. Back in the day, I told the guy he need to shave his '80s moustache, cut his '80s haircut and quit wearing muscle shirts. He begrudgingly took all this advice and started getting female attention. He then got a nipple ring and I think a tattoo. Anyhoo, he's never cared much for me, despite the good advice. So when Buddy B was dateless for the shindig and I was going to go, it was kiboshed. Sometimes it strikes me as odd that I've actually been barred from attending a wedding.)

Anyway, this year will hold three of them, two of which will require extensive travel, and two of which are family deals. Some people hate weddings. Personally, I really enjoy them. You eat, you dance, you drink, there's cake and two people in love are now married. What's not to like?

The speeches. Actually, speeches can be a real buzz kill. But then it also depends on the speech. I once watched a man make AA amends to his son during a speech. Another time I watched a bridesmaid spill the beans that the couple had sleepovers prior to marriage in front of the very religious grandparents. I mean, you never know what's going to happen.

You'd think at my age I'd have more friends getting engaged and married, but I don't. I have two friends hitched. All the others are in relationships, yes, but engaged? Not so much. And I like that. Oh, I'd be happy for any of my friends getting married. But I like the lack of urgency the people I care about are approaching this milestone with. No one seems in a hurry. But I suppose were we all to hit our 30s, some of us may change our tunes. That happens.

Les Internets

I booked all my travel stuff. I'm a goin' to California for a wedding in a month and a half! Wooo-ee! And due to saving up 90,000 Visa travel points equalling $450, I got a return plane ticket for $115. And then I booked a hotel room for $89 a night, after tax totalling $195 US. I can't believe how affordable this is.

Now, I've been on a message board for about three and a half years. I've been on less and less as fewer of the friends I've made are frequenting it and more are on Facebook. But in the earlier years, it was a lifeline for me. We all shared everything and got to know each other on this amazing personal level, and we argued with each other full force and then laughed about it later. Such is the power of the Internet.

I've met four of these friends in person, one is a Canadian in a neighbouring city, whom I get to see every few months. She's fantastic. Another is a professor in California who I've seen twice along with my fellow Canadian boarder on his academic visits to the city. Another is a good friend I got to meet in California (lots of Californians on this board) September '08 and we got on great and I wished we lived closer. And the last, who I actually met first when he was on a business trip he'd taken to Toronto, is getting married to a woman he met on the boards, and that's whose wedding I'm going to. I'm looking forward to meeting her in person too.

And as though it wasn't awesome enough to see these two get married (the groom is a really great guy and I've heard wonderful stuff about the bride from those who know her in real life), and being able to see my good friend again, I'll also get to meet more people from the boards.

I was 23 when I started meeting all these people. I'm in many ways a different person than I was, in the sort of way people are after a few years of personal growth. This board was in many ways a part of that growth. As I was adjusting to a new life and new apartment, new single status, new and rediscovered friends, I was connecting with these people. They know nearly all my personal secrets and feelings. And being in their company in real life has been a very calming experience because of that.

Most people in my life who know about the boards don't really get it. And I couldn't expect them to, really. They chuckle and shake their heads, possibly thinking I'm a little nuts. Maybe I am and maybe we are. But come May, we can all be nuts together as we celebrate a couple that the boards brought together. Like it or hate it, the Internet changes people's lives.

My stomach is aging

I'm back in the big smoke, after a visit in my hometown to see my friend. I'm reminded yet again of the fact I'm not 22, as my stomach is still unsettled from drinking too much, and it's 1:00 a.m. Two nights of too much wine. Dude.

Good company, though, and good times. Always the good times. We ate crap, listened to music, shared internet favourites. And everyone should have someone in their life who they know stupidly well and who they can paint with drunk at 2:00 in the morning. It was never on my to do list, but it should have been.

I told her I was going gray. I was unprepared for the enthusiasm of, "Aw! I want to go gray too!" Which made us laugh because it's not like waiting to get your first period. Sadly when I went to the bathroom to root out some proof, I found four white hairs without even trying. Sigh. I have booked my hair appointment for this Friday.

And it's back to the grind tomorrow.

I took a Gravol to settle my aching tummy. Hopefully it'll double as a sleeping aid, 'cause I slept off my hangover till 1:00 p.m. today and that doesn't bode well for sleep tonight. The Dude is already snoozing away, and will be getting up at 6:00 in the morning tomorrow. Blech. At least I'm not him. 6:00 a.m. shouldn't exist.

I'll write something better when I feel less like utter ass.

But for now, here is something that my friend showed me on YouTube. And here is something I shared with her. What did people do before the internet?

Monty Python in real life

I'm off today, which is out of the norm for a Saturday. Normally I'd still be in my robe, sitting at my cramped desk, sipping cold tea and plugging away at some assignment. Not today. It's like a real proper weekend, the likes of which I've rarely seen since 2004.

So how does one spend a Saturday? A child would get up at the buttcrack of dawn and watch cartoons. A teenager would sleep in until 1:00 pm. A college student would nurse their hangover with fried breakfast.

Me? Well, I did have a hangover-- which I will get to later because Sweet Jeebs, was last night something else-- but nurse it I did not, pardon the Yoda talk. The Dude and I decided to go to the markets to purchase ingredients for a new meal he wants to make for our friend who's coming over tonight. And it made me very happy.

We went to a fruit market, a butcher and a bakery/deli. For the first time grocery shopping was fun. All this time I thought I hated it. But no. What I hate is supermarkets. Fiesta Farms was the best grocery store I've ever been to and I miss it, but even when I lived nearby, making myself go was a struggle in maturity ("I should go. *Whine* But I don't want to. But we're out of food... but I can order in! Yeah, I'm not going today. Fuck the grocery store.")

I'm soooo looking forward to tonight's meal.

Now, as to why I'm hungover, last evening I went out for dinner with a friend of mine, one of the men who so wonderfully helped me find my new couch. As he put it last night, we're in each other's top 10 friends (Not on Myspace or anything, just in our heads.)

We had some Thai food at my favourite Thai restaurant downtown and one of his friends joined us. My goodness, was this man a trip and a half. I find it too overwhelming to chronicle the evening, so I'll detail the night in point form:

• When he arrived he insisted he would not buy any food. He'd bicycled 7 km in about 4^oC and said if he saved $10 on a meal, he could give more to his charitable cause.
• My friend, whom I shall refer to as McPal, and I badgered him to eat, to eat at least from our meals, which were served family style. Finally he ordered his own tofu dish, claiming to be a new vegetarian. At which point he discussed our brutal choices of duck and chicken.
• He was the devil's advocate for every conversation topic. When I pointed out to him he was contrary, he said he was not. Then he realized the irony. And then I won a small point of satisfaction.
• He claimed to be a communist. I told him he'd get along with a quirky friend of a friend of mine named Stefan. He then made a Family Matters reference about Steve Urkel's cool machine.
• They asked me to come out for a drink and so I thought why not. We went to a pub and McPal wanted to split a pitcher with his friend. I ordered wine. The friend vetoed all the beers McPal wanted on the basis that he may not like these brands. He was wooed into going for it when it was argued that a pitcher was very economical. He said he was a fan of economics.
• He brought up sexual orientation out of the blue and suggested everyone was inherently bisexual. I said I didn't think so and that if you couldn't bear to put your face near the junk of the same or opposite sex, you were pretty well on one side of the fence. He said it was all conditioning. I then observed he was most likely a bisexual if he really thought all people could go either way. This was on my second glass of wine.
• At various points in the evening he mentioned "females" instead of girls or women. He said in his age group, they were neither one nor the other. He's 24.
• He silly-walked down the street like a Monty Python skit. Being 6'4", it was very John Cleese-esque. He then stopped to stretch against a tree.
  

Truly he was the strangest character I've ever met, and I know some weird-ass people. I liked him, but kind of the way I like egg nog. Really touch and go, that drink, and you have to be in the mood for it. I stayed for the second glass of wine purely out of fascination.