OH yeah. One other thing. Crown and I are heading to NYC after Christmas for four days. I'm a Big Apple virgin. Crown's only been once, as a kid. I want to go everywhere and do everything that the fab foursome ever did on any given episode of Sex and the City.
Being the rational and logical Virgo that I am, I realize that achieving this lofty goal is as likely as running into Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte in the hotel lobby. So, I'm putting it out there to you all. What should we do? What are the must-sees? Restaurants? Museums? SHOPPING? Help.
Thank you.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Monster Mash
Been having some blogger-block lately. Maybe it's just because my life tends to get increasingly boring as the winter sets in. I don't know.
Here's what I do know. My dog? Is. A FREAK.
Remember Winston Wonderpug? I've mentioned this little green guy here before (see photo).
The Momes is so obsessed with this toy that he will literally have a major spaz attack if the thing goes missing, or when we put it in the washing machine, or when Momes chews off another limb and we have to hide it away until I can find the time to sew up the gaping wound where the arm/leg/ear used to be.
I so wish I could post a picture of Winston as he looks today (can't, camera broken). It's so pathetic it brings tears to my eyes. Missing apendages stitched up cruelly and quickly while Momes has a conniption at my feet, scratching and flailing and snorting all the while.
From now on I will refer to Winston the Wonderpug exclusively as Winston the Frankenpug.
Poor Winston. He's losing that last stub of his last arm as I type.
Here's what I do know. My dog? Is. A FREAK.
Remember Winston Wonderpug? I've mentioned this little green guy here before (see photo).
The Momes is so obsessed with this toy that he will literally have a major spaz attack if the thing goes missing, or when we put it in the washing machine, or when Momes chews off another limb and we have to hide it away until I can find the time to sew up the gaping wound where the arm/leg/ear used to be.
I so wish I could post a picture of Winston as he looks today (can't, camera broken). It's so pathetic it brings tears to my eyes. Missing apendages stitched up cruelly and quickly while Momes has a conniption at my feet, scratching and flailing and snorting all the while.
From now on I will refer to Winston the Wonderpug exclusively as Winston the Frankenpug.
Poor Winston. He's losing that last stub of his last arm as I type.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Never Enough
You know how when you’ve been dating someone for a while, people start asking you when you’re going to get serious? Then when you get serious people start asking you when you’re going to get married? Then you get married and well, I’m sure you can guess what they start asking you next. Can’t you? Can’t you guess? Maybe you’ve done it yourself. I’m sure that you’ve at least thought it yourself. I know I have.
Well, for those of you who have been thinking it about me, blushing newlywed that I am (heh), here’s the update. And don’t think that I haven’t noticed you staring at my tummy every time I overdo it with the carbs. I notice, and people? It’s JUST CARBS!
I have wanted to be a mother my entire life. From my earliest memories I have absolutely loved babies, even when I was just a baby myself. I like children of all ages, but especially babies. The newer, the smaller, the fresher, the better. I even love them when they are still in the belly. I loves me a pregnant belly. I love babies more than I love chocolate. More than I love puppies and I think you all know by now how much I love puppies. I LOVE PUPPIES A LOT.
Last night was Halloween and when a little 1 ½ year-old Nemo (of Finding Nemo fame) waddled up to my front door, all flush-faced and excited, looked up at me and said, “Tinkateeeenk,” I could barely get the candy into his overflowing pumpkin bag fast enough before closing the door and sitting down in my front hall in a flood of tears.
So with all this loving of babies, why no babies in our life yet? Well, the not-so-easy-to-answer answer comes in many parts. If you are really interested, please see reasons a) – g) below:
a) I’m an extremely cautious person. It’s a Virgo thing, I think. We don’t do anything without thinking it through and researching it to death. Preparedness is something that I take to the extreme. For example, before we even bought our home, I already knew exactly how I was going to pack up the apartment. What stuff would go in which box. Which room would need to be packed first in order to pack the others with the greatest level of efficiency. I’m totally serious. I think that every parent out there will say with certainty that you can never really be 100% prepared for children. It’s always a leap of faith to some degree. This is a problem for someone like me, who is always 100% prepared.
b) I have a dog. My dog hates children and tries to eat them. I haven't quite figured out how to "fix" this problem yet, despite renting all the seasons of The Dog Whisperer. Also, my dog has special needs. He is sick a lot and it seems like every time we get him healthy, after vet visits and sleepless nights, medications and nervous mornings at the animal emerge, we have a happy healthy dog for about two days and then it's something else. Regardless of how many times I tell myself, it's just a dog, stop stressing so much, I can't stop. I worry about him and every time he gets sick, I feel sick too. My God! How do you deal with that if it's your child? How? I'm not sure that I can live with the endless worry and fear. I'm not sure that I'm cut out to handle the panic that must rise up like a tsunami in your gut every time your baby is ill. How would I ever possibly with a child who had serious health problems? I'm just not sure I could do it. My heart stops beating at the mere suggestion.
c) My husband gets a say in this, too, believe it or not. And he’s not ready. He’s also into preparedness. Granted, it’s easier for the male part of the equation to wait it out because it’s not the male body that has to carry said child. It’s not the male body that has to have enough elasticity left in it that it can have a fighting chance of bouncing back to something ever so slightly resembling what it was before. Every time I tear up at a Pampers commercial and give him “the look” he says, “What? You want a baby right now?” with a slight tinge of unbridled panic in his voice.
d) So DO I want a baby right now? The fact of the matter is I love my life just as it is. I love sleeping in on Saturday mornings. I love having a tidy house. I love not cooking and not doing 10 loads laundry a day. I love traveling when and where we want. I love deciding at 10pm on a Friday that yes, I will hook up with some friends for tequila shots at the local hot spot. This is happening increasingly less and less, but it still CAN happen whenever I want it to. That’s hard to give up. Basically, I’m afraid of change. I do believe that a baby would fulfill us in so many other ways that these other child-free perks will simply not matter as much anymore.
e) But can I have a baby right now, even if we decided we wanted to? This is a big one—something I haven’t discussed with many people yet. I guess I wanted to come to terms with it and let it sink in myself first. This summer I was “sort of” diagnosed with a condition that could make it difficult, if not impossible for me to maintain a pregnancy, even when we decide to bite the bullet. I say “sort of” because without some very invasive tests, that could do more harm that good, I can not be entirely positive that I have this condition. I do not want to do the tests. The specialist that I saw said it makes more sense to wait and try to conceive naturally and “if it doesn’t work out the natural way” we would begin a treatment plan. The condition is called a Luteal Phase Defect. After doing my own research and discussing it with my regular doctor I’m fairly certain that I do have this condition. I won’t describe it here, but if you’re interested in the gory details, just google it. I have been assured that it’s one of the easiest forms of infertility to treat, remedies range from over-the-counter vitamins (B6) to prescription medications such as Clomid.
f) So here’s the thing though. I have always maintained that I want to have my children before I reach a certain age. I want to be young enough to relate to them through their teen years, I want MY parents to be young enough to enjoy my babies; I want my grandmother to be around to be a great-grandmother. And selfishly, I also want to be young pick up my child-free life once the kids have grown and gone. I ain’t no spring chicken over here. If I have to first try and fail at conceiving, then begin treatment and try again, it could take months or years before we get pregnant. Is my time running out?
f) Further to that is my own moral dilemma. I have always told myself that, God-forbid, if I had problems with fertility I would not put myself or my partner though the trials and tribulations of fertility treatments. There are so many children in this world, I said to myself, and at the risk of sounding too “Angelina” here, there are so many babies with no parents, no food, no future. Why go through the struggle and the heartache of trying and trying to have our own baby when there are so many babies that need us? It was easy to say this to myself before my “sort of” diagnosis because I really never believed that I’d have any trouble. I’m healthy, fit and (sort of) young. I’ve never had serious health issues before. But now, facing the possibility of never experiencing my own pregnancy and never seeing my own or my husband’s eyes reflected back at us through our baby, suddenly I feel selfish and scared.
So there’s the not-so-easy-to-answer answer. For now, no babies for us. And why did I cry when I saw that little Nemo on my doorstep? Because when I think carefully about all the reasons above, and I think about them often, I suddenly realize for the first time in my entire life that there is actually a small sliver of a possibility that I may never have a little Nemo of my own.
Well, for those of you who have been thinking it about me, blushing newlywed that I am (heh), here’s the update. And don’t think that I haven’t noticed you staring at my tummy every time I overdo it with the carbs. I notice, and people? It’s JUST CARBS!
I have wanted to be a mother my entire life. From my earliest memories I have absolutely loved babies, even when I was just a baby myself. I like children of all ages, but especially babies. The newer, the smaller, the fresher, the better. I even love them when they are still in the belly. I loves me a pregnant belly. I love babies more than I love chocolate. More than I love puppies and I think you all know by now how much I love puppies. I LOVE PUPPIES A LOT.
Last night was Halloween and when a little 1 ½ year-old Nemo (of Finding Nemo fame) waddled up to my front door, all flush-faced and excited, looked up at me and said, “Tinkateeeenk,” I could barely get the candy into his overflowing pumpkin bag fast enough before closing the door and sitting down in my front hall in a flood of tears.
So with all this loving of babies, why no babies in our life yet? Well, the not-so-easy-to-answer answer comes in many parts. If you are really interested, please see reasons a) – g) below:
a) I’m an extremely cautious person. It’s a Virgo thing, I think. We don’t do anything without thinking it through and researching it to death. Preparedness is something that I take to the extreme. For example, before we even bought our home, I already knew exactly how I was going to pack up the apartment. What stuff would go in which box. Which room would need to be packed first in order to pack the others with the greatest level of efficiency. I’m totally serious. I think that every parent out there will say with certainty that you can never really be 100% prepared for children. It’s always a leap of faith to some degree. This is a problem for someone like me, who is always 100% prepared.
b) I have a dog. My dog hates children and tries to eat them. I haven't quite figured out how to "fix" this problem yet, despite renting all the seasons of The Dog Whisperer. Also, my dog has special needs. He is sick a lot and it seems like every time we get him healthy, after vet visits and sleepless nights, medications and nervous mornings at the animal emerge, we have a happy healthy dog for about two days and then it's something else. Regardless of how many times I tell myself, it's just a dog, stop stressing so much, I can't stop. I worry about him and every time he gets sick, I feel sick too. My God! How do you deal with that if it's your child? How? I'm not sure that I can live with the endless worry and fear. I'm not sure that I'm cut out to handle the panic that must rise up like a tsunami in your gut every time your baby is ill. How would I ever possibly with a child who had serious health problems? I'm just not sure I could do it. My heart stops beating at the mere suggestion.
c) My husband gets a say in this, too, believe it or not. And he’s not ready. He’s also into preparedness. Granted, it’s easier for the male part of the equation to wait it out because it’s not the male body that has to carry said child. It’s not the male body that has to have enough elasticity left in it that it can have a fighting chance of bouncing back to something ever so slightly resembling what it was before. Every time I tear up at a Pampers commercial and give him “the look” he says, “What? You want a baby right now?” with a slight tinge of unbridled panic in his voice.
d) So DO I want a baby right now? The fact of the matter is I love my life just as it is. I love sleeping in on Saturday mornings. I love having a tidy house. I love not cooking and not doing 10 loads laundry a day. I love traveling when and where we want. I love deciding at 10pm on a Friday that yes, I will hook up with some friends for tequila shots at the local hot spot. This is happening increasingly less and less, but it still CAN happen whenever I want it to. That’s hard to give up. Basically, I’m afraid of change. I do believe that a baby would fulfill us in so many other ways that these other child-free perks will simply not matter as much anymore.
e) But can I have a baby right now, even if we decided we wanted to? This is a big one—something I haven’t discussed with many people yet. I guess I wanted to come to terms with it and let it sink in myself first. This summer I was “sort of” diagnosed with a condition that could make it difficult, if not impossible for me to maintain a pregnancy, even when we decide to bite the bullet. I say “sort of” because without some very invasive tests, that could do more harm that good, I can not be entirely positive that I have this condition. I do not want to do the tests. The specialist that I saw said it makes more sense to wait and try to conceive naturally and “if it doesn’t work out the natural way” we would begin a treatment plan. The condition is called a Luteal Phase Defect. After doing my own research and discussing it with my regular doctor I’m fairly certain that I do have this condition. I won’t describe it here, but if you’re interested in the gory details, just google it. I have been assured that it’s one of the easiest forms of infertility to treat, remedies range from over-the-counter vitamins (B6) to prescription medications such as Clomid.
f) So here’s the thing though. I have always maintained that I want to have my children before I reach a certain age. I want to be young enough to relate to them through their teen years, I want MY parents to be young enough to enjoy my babies; I want my grandmother to be around to be a great-grandmother. And selfishly, I also want to be young pick up my child-free life once the kids have grown and gone. I ain’t no spring chicken over here. If I have to first try and fail at conceiving, then begin treatment and try again, it could take months or years before we get pregnant. Is my time running out?
f) Further to that is my own moral dilemma. I have always told myself that, God-forbid, if I had problems with fertility I would not put myself or my partner though the trials and tribulations of fertility treatments. There are so many children in this world, I said to myself, and at the risk of sounding too “Angelina” here, there are so many babies with no parents, no food, no future. Why go through the struggle and the heartache of trying and trying to have our own baby when there are so many babies that need us? It was easy to say this to myself before my “sort of” diagnosis because I really never believed that I’d have any trouble. I’m healthy, fit and (sort of) young. I’ve never had serious health issues before. But now, facing the possibility of never experiencing my own pregnancy and never seeing my own or my husband’s eyes reflected back at us through our baby, suddenly I feel selfish and scared.
So there’s the not-so-easy-to-answer answer. For now, no babies for us. And why did I cry when I saw that little Nemo on my doorstep? Because when I think carefully about all the reasons above, and I think about them often, I suddenly realize for the first time in my entire life that there is actually a small sliver of a possibility that I may never have a little Nemo of my own.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
White Wedding
Well, not quite white... but I think I may have already mentioned that it was perfect. Perfect for us, anyway.
And on this glorious fall morning [note: I did write this last Saturday, but am only getting to post now], as we get ready to celebrate the wedding of our lovely friends Double D and Queen of Tarts (so named not because she's a tart, far from it, but because she once brought us a box of scrumptious tarts from the famous Toronto bakery of the same name and I'll never ever forget her for it!), I'm already feeling a little nostalgic for our own wedding day. If I could wake up tomorrow and be in that hotel bed in Las Vegas, tired and groggy from a long night of gambling and drinks but jittery with excitement for the special day ahead, I would do it all again in a heartbeat.
September 18, 2006:
Crown and I woke up early. Normal for me on vacation, very strange for him. The day was glorious, hot and sunny, the kind of day only the desert can deliver. I was itching to get to the pool. I had visions of spending the day lounging, soaking up rays, and chatting with my girls, and that is exactly what I did.
My sister Chops and my BFF Dings met me poolside. We lazed the morning away, laughing and snapping silly pictures of me in my "bride" baseball cap with the veil attached to the back. Yes, I wore it in public, but only because my mom's lovely lesbian neighbours made me promise I would. They gave it to me, a hand-me-down from their own wedding last summer.
I was not feeling nervous at all. In fact, quite the opposite, I was relaxed and I was ridiculously happy. The experience was not lost on me. I was doing what I love most in the world, laying poolside on a hot day and people watching, in what has to be the absolute best place on earth to watch people. I was in one of my favourite cities, with almost all of my favourite people, about to marry the man of my dreams.
Um? Wait a second. MARRY the man of my dreams? MARRY? HOLY FUCK. It hit me around 2 pm. My nervousness came in a wave, which I self-diagnosed as hunger.
"Dings? Dings? I think I need a hotdog. Can we go get a hotdog, please?"
We went to find a hotdog. Apparently, the poolside bar at the Flamingo no longer serves hotdogs.
"What kind of poolside bar doesn't serve fucking HOTDOGS? FISHBURGERS?! Nobody saunters up to a poolside bar in 110 degree heat and orders a fucking fishburger!"
Dings and Chops took control, got us out of the pool area and somewhere that sold hotdogs. We ate hotdogs. I calmed down again. Better. See, I was just hungry. After our lunch we decided we should hit the casino and burn off a little energy at the roulette wheel. We tried the new "rapid roulette" computerized version of the game and each lost $20 in about three minutes. This was not helping me relax.
"Why don't we take a walk. It's so beautiful outside. Dings, lets walk over to your hotel."
The three of us strolled down the strip to Paris. I was now checking my watch every 30 seconds. It was around 3:00pm. I had decided that I must be back in my room by 3:45pm so I could nap, shower and start getting ready. Dings would meet me back there at 4ish to do my hair and makeup.
We ran into Crown on the way to Paris, the first time I'd seen him all day. Chat for a minute or so, he was also feeling rushed. We shared a smooch and off he went. Next time I'd see him would be minutes before our ceremony.
We spent only enough time at Paris to lose another $20 each in the nickel machines, so clearly not long at all. At this point I was definitely feeling full-blown anxiety. My number one source of stress at that moment? What else? My hair.
Chops and I went back to our rooms at the Flamingo to rest and get ready. I wanted to lie down, but instead convinced myself that I should practice walking in my shoes. My number two source of stress at that moment? That's right. My shoes.
I was petrified of falling on my face in the middle of my short jaunt down the aisle. I teetered around my hotel room in nothing but panties and high heeled shoes for a good half an hour, stopping only to watch a beautiful wedding from my window, which overlooked the surprisingly beautiful grounds of the hotel. It made me cry.
My number three source of stress at that moment? Crying. I was determined that today I would not cry! I wanted to be composed and beautiful, not sobbing and covered in streaks of mascara.
Hopped in the shower and began the long of process of what Scarbie would call, Pimping My Hide. Shave, scrub, wash, condition, blow dry, moisturize, moisturize again (this was the desert people), pluck, powder, moisturize again. Dings showed up bearing vodka and gifts. Bless her heart. It was almost 4:30pm.
Dings did an amazing job on my hair. Using about 1000 bobby pins and some really pretty gold hair pins that she bought just for the occasion, she managed to get my unmanageable hair into the prettiest twisty updo that you could imagine. It was perfect! We both got a little teary as the reality of what was happening set in. I also welled up a little with relief -- hair, done! Stress number one, over!
Makeup came next and again Dings did a beautiful job. Pretty, natural, with just the perfect hint of colour to jazz things up. We pulled my dress on and fastened the gorgeous Swarovski crystal earrings (another perfect gift from Dings) just in the nick-of-time. Limo was arriving at 6pm, it was 5:59pm.
After a brief moment of anxiety -- we couldn't find the limo (wrong lobby -- big hotel) -- Chops, Dings and I piled in and we were off to the chapel, cruising down Las Vegas Boulevard as the evening desert sun streamed in through the windows and the Romanian driver told us over and over again how beautiful we looked. Nothing like getting hit on by the limo driver on the way to your wedding.
We pulled up to the Little Church of the West right on time. Crown was standing outside with all of our guests, watching as the car pulled up. He looked so handsome in his suit that my breath caught a little and I had to wave away tears. I was still determined not to cry.
I had decided to stay in the limo until it was time to walk down the aisle, and sprinkle just a little bit of tradition on our very non-traditional day. The family was lined up with cameras in hand and I have to admit, it was fun to watch from the privacy of my tinted windows as they chatted and waited to go into the church.
Finally it was time. They all disappeared into the church and Chops and I got out of the limo. She headed inside, the wedding planner dude handed me my flowers and gave me a quick run down of what I was supposed to do.
"Hold the flowers here. Walk when you are ready. Smile and don't forget to listen. A lot of people forget to listen."
Then he asked me if "this guy" was escorting me down the aisle. This guy? I looked beside me and there was my Romanian limo driver! He said, "I can do for you -- you are alone -- is no good."
"Um, no thanks. I'm cool. I wanted it this way."
The wedding planner dude waved away the driver and waved me into the doorway of the church. The first few notes of our song, Cruisin' Together by Smoky Robinson, played and I had two thoughts running through my mind.
Don't fall. Don't cry.
Don't fall. Don't cry.
I didn't fall and I didn't cry. Well, I didn't cry yet. I made it down the aisle (it's a very short aisle, maybe 10 steps in total). I paused for a picture and waved at Cairn's family, who I hadn't seen yet. I stood next to Crown, and the minister started his thing.
All I heard was that noise the Charlie Brown hears when his teacher is talking. "Mwawa Wawaam..." I managed to get out my "I dos" at the right moments, as did Crown. Then came the vows. Crown passed his with flying colours. Ring ended up on my finger and I stared at it for a few extra seconds. Pretty, I thought.
"Beaches, please repeat after me..."
I repeated the first line, the second... I repeated the third. The fourth was harder, it took a deep breath. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. The fifth line. I'm crying. I had to choke out the last two lines. Tears were stinging my eyes and sobs caught in the back of my throat, but I got them out
and after a few more minutes of "wawaawaawa..." I heard him say loud and clear, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss."
Made out for a couple of seconds. GTs.
And we were done! Married. The entire ceremony lasted 6 minutes and 26 seconds. I know because I have the DVD to prove it. Pictures were taken and as Crown and I walked out of the Little Church, they rang the bells. It was a perfect moment, captured in the picture I posted last week.
We took a bunch of photos outside of the church (see my Flickr for more photos and I'll continue to add them as we sort through) and then "the kids" all piled into the limo together. After a quick stop at the famous Welcome to Las Vegas sign, we cruised up and down The Strip, drinking champagne and laughing. It was perfect. I was ecstatic. We were hungry! Off to the restaurant to meet up with "the adults" and seal the day off with food and drink. Perfect, perfect, perfect.
Although I hadn't expected it, or asked, several people made beautiful speeches at dinner. My no crying rule was out the window. After several hours of amazing food and drink, we were ready to go, full and satisfied, back to the casino.
Dings, Chops and I spent hours playing roulette that night. It was some of the most fun I have had in my entire life. We laughed and drank and gambled. Perhaps not the most virtuous of wedding night celebrations, but we were in in Sin City after all. Dings got lucky and when I finally lost all my money and glanced at that time I realized that maybe it was time for me to go and do the same.
Heh.
It was close to 4am. Our wedding day was over. Our life was just beginning.
And on this glorious fall morning [note: I did write this last Saturday, but am only getting to post now], as we get ready to celebrate the wedding of our lovely friends Double D and Queen of Tarts (so named not because she's a tart, far from it, but because she once brought us a box of scrumptious tarts from the famous Toronto bakery of the same name and I'll never ever forget her for it!), I'm already feeling a little nostalgic for our own wedding day. If I could wake up tomorrow and be in that hotel bed in Las Vegas, tired and groggy from a long night of gambling and drinks but jittery with excitement for the special day ahead, I would do it all again in a heartbeat.
September 18, 2006:
Crown and I woke up early. Normal for me on vacation, very strange for him. The day was glorious, hot and sunny, the kind of day only the desert can deliver. I was itching to get to the pool. I had visions of spending the day lounging, soaking up rays, and chatting with my girls, and that is exactly what I did.
My sister Chops and my BFF Dings met me poolside. We lazed the morning away, laughing and snapping silly pictures of me in my "bride" baseball cap with the veil attached to the back. Yes, I wore it in public, but only because my mom's lovely lesbian neighbours made me promise I would. They gave it to me, a hand-me-down from their own wedding last summer.
I was not feeling nervous at all. In fact, quite the opposite, I was relaxed and I was ridiculously happy. The experience was not lost on me. I was doing what I love most in the world, laying poolside on a hot day and people watching, in what has to be the absolute best place on earth to watch people. I was in one of my favourite cities, with almost all of my favourite people, about to marry the man of my dreams.
Um? Wait a second. MARRY the man of my dreams? MARRY? HOLY FUCK. It hit me around 2 pm. My nervousness came in a wave, which I self-diagnosed as hunger.
"Dings? Dings? I think I need a hotdog. Can we go get a hotdog, please?"
We went to find a hotdog. Apparently, the poolside bar at the Flamingo no longer serves hotdogs.
"What kind of poolside bar doesn't serve fucking HOTDOGS? FISHBURGERS?! Nobody saunters up to a poolside bar in 110 degree heat and orders a fucking fishburger!"
Dings and Chops took control, got us out of the pool area and somewhere that sold hotdogs. We ate hotdogs. I calmed down again. Better. See, I was just hungry. After our lunch we decided we should hit the casino and burn off a little energy at the roulette wheel. We tried the new "rapid roulette" computerized version of the game and each lost $20 in about three minutes. This was not helping me relax.
"Why don't we take a walk. It's so beautiful outside. Dings, lets walk over to your hotel."
The three of us strolled down the strip to Paris. I was now checking my watch every 30 seconds. It was around 3:00pm. I had decided that I must be back in my room by 3:45pm so I could nap, shower and start getting ready. Dings would meet me back there at 4ish to do my hair and makeup.
We ran into Crown on the way to Paris, the first time I'd seen him all day. Chat for a minute or so, he was also feeling rushed. We shared a smooch and off he went. Next time I'd see him would be minutes before our ceremony.
We spent only enough time at Paris to lose another $20 each in the nickel machines, so clearly not long at all. At this point I was definitely feeling full-blown anxiety. My number one source of stress at that moment? What else? My hair.
Chops and I went back to our rooms at the Flamingo to rest and get ready. I wanted to lie down, but instead convinced myself that I should practice walking in my shoes. My number two source of stress at that moment? That's right. My shoes.
I was petrified of falling on my face in the middle of my short jaunt down the aisle. I teetered around my hotel room in nothing but panties and high heeled shoes for a good half an hour, stopping only to watch a beautiful wedding from my window, which overlooked the surprisingly beautiful grounds of the hotel. It made me cry.
My number three source of stress at that moment? Crying. I was determined that today I would not cry! I wanted to be composed and beautiful, not sobbing and covered in streaks of mascara.Hopped in the shower and began the long of process of what Scarbie would call, Pimping My Hide. Shave, scrub, wash, condition, blow dry, moisturize, moisturize again (this was the desert people), pluck, powder, moisturize again. Dings showed up bearing vodka and gifts. Bless her heart. It was almost 4:30pm.
Dings did an amazing job on my hair. Using about 1000 bobby pins and some really pretty gold hair pins that she bought just for the occasion, she managed to get my unmanageable hair into the prettiest twisty updo that you could imagine. It was perfect! We both got a little teary as the reality of what was happening set in. I also welled up a little with relief -- hair, done! Stress number one, over!
Makeup came next and again Dings did a beautiful job. Pretty, natural, with just the perfect hint of colour to jazz things up. We pulled my dress on and fastened the gorgeous Swarovski crystal earrings (another perfect gift from Dings) just in the nick-of-time. Limo was arriving at 6pm, it was 5:59pm.
After a brief moment of anxiety -- we couldn't find the limo (wrong lobby -- big hotel) -- Chops, Dings and I piled in and we were off to the chapel, cruising down Las Vegas Boulevard as the evening desert sun streamed in through the windows and the Romanian driver told us over and over again how beautiful we looked. Nothing like getting hit on by the limo driver on the way to your wedding.
We pulled up to the Little Church of the West right on time. Crown was standing outside with all of our guests, watching as the car pulled up. He looked so handsome in his suit that my breath caught a little and I had to wave away tears. I was still determined not to cry.
I had decided to stay in the limo until it was time to walk down the aisle, and sprinkle just a little bit of tradition on our very non-traditional day. The family was lined up with cameras in hand and I have to admit, it was fun to watch from the privacy of my tinted windows as they chatted and waited to go into the church.Finally it was time. They all disappeared into the church and Chops and I got out of the limo. She headed inside, the wedding planner dude handed me my flowers and gave me a quick run down of what I was supposed to do.
"Hold the flowers here. Walk when you are ready. Smile and don't forget to listen. A lot of people forget to listen."
Then he asked me if "this guy" was escorting me down the aisle. This guy? I looked beside me and there was my Romanian limo driver! He said, "I can do for you -- you are alone -- is no good."
"Um, no thanks. I'm cool. I wanted it this way."
The wedding planner dude waved away the driver and waved me into the doorway of the church. The first few notes of our song, Cruisin' Together by Smoky Robinson, played and I had two thoughts running through my mind.
Don't fall. Don't cry.
Don't fall. Don't cry.
I didn't fall and I didn't cry. Well, I didn't cry yet. I made it down the aisle (it's a very short aisle, maybe 10 steps in total). I paused for a picture and waved at Cairn's family, who I hadn't seen yet. I stood next to Crown, and the minister started his thing.
All I heard was that noise the Charlie Brown hears when his teacher is talking. "Mwawa Wawaam..." I managed to get out my "I dos" at the right moments, as did Crown. Then came the vows. Crown passed his with flying colours. Ring ended up on my finger and I stared at it for a few extra seconds. Pretty, I thought.
"Beaches, please repeat after me..."
I repeated the first line, the second... I repeated the third. The fourth was harder, it took a deep breath. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. The fifth line. I'm crying. I had to choke out the last two lines. Tears were stinging my eyes and sobs caught in the back of my throat, but I got them out
and after a few more minutes of "wawaawaawa..." I heard him say loud and clear, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss."
Made out for a couple of seconds. GTs.
And we were done! Married. The entire ceremony lasted 6 minutes and 26 seconds. I know because I have the DVD to prove it. Pictures were taken and as Crown and I walked out of the Little Church, they rang the bells. It was a perfect moment, captured in the picture I posted last week.
We took a bunch of photos outside of the church (see my Flickr for more photos and I'll continue to add them as we sort through) and then "the kids" all piled into the limo together. After a quick stop at the famous Welcome to Las Vegas sign, we cruised up and down The Strip, drinking champagne and laughing. It was perfect. I was ecstatic. We were hungry! Off to the restaurant to meet up with "the adults" and seal the day off with food and drink. Perfect, perfect, perfect.
Although I hadn't expected it, or asked, several people made beautiful speeches at dinner. My no crying rule was out the window. After several hours of amazing food and drink, we were ready to go, full and satisfied, back to the casino.
Dings, Chops and I spent hours playing roulette that night. It was some of the most fun I have had in my entire life. We laughed and drank and gambled. Perhaps not the most virtuous of wedding night celebrations, but we were in in Sin City after all. Dings got lucky and when I finally lost all my money and glanced at that time I realized that maybe it was time for me to go and do the same.Heh.
It was close to 4am. Our wedding day was over. Our life was just beginning.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Time of My Life
Done and done. Full details to follow, but can't type now. So tired. Just know this, really and truly one of the best days of my life. Who knew? There was a bride in there afterall!
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