Thursday, November 29, 2007

A year ago, well almost a year ago, we drove through a blizzard up to Brett’s parents’ house, wherein we spent a most festive Christmas. It was happy and comfortable and they are so good at making me feel like a true part of the family. However, one evening, we all settled in to watch slides of Brett and his brother when they were kids. Also present for the festivities were Brett’s brother and his then fiancĂ© (they got married this past summer). The slide projector was set up in the basement family room, which also houses the wood burning stove. (side note: Every house in Montana has a wood burning stove. If the house does not have such a stove, a true Montanan finds a way to put one in, using sometimes questionable methods. I desperately want a wood burning stove.) Here’s the wondrous thing about wood burning stoves: they heat the entire house, which is great, except that the room that contains the stove is about 3,000 degrees. It’s like having a room sized sauna that also smells like the north woods. Delightful for 5 minutes; hellish for 3 hours.

Anyway, to add to the general feeling that one could possibly spontaneously combust from the unrelenting heat; the carpet in that room is shag, and also red. Not like a dark red, or a rust red, or a maroon, but a blazing-bright-burning-hot-innards-of-the-earth kind of red. And did I mention that it was shag? Shag.

So we all settled in to watch slides of the cuteness that was/is Brett and his brother. Brett and I next to each other, but there was no cuddling or holding of hands, because of the aforementioned temperature problem. The heat did not prevent Brett’s brother and fiancĂ© from snuggling, however. No no, they were all wrapped up in each other the entire 3 hours, and I seriously could not figure out how they were managing such stifling closeness. The last thing I want when I’m hot is another hot body glued to mine. I didn’t even want my body to touch itself, or the chair for that matter. If I could have hovered, I would have. However, these two are also the no-sex-before-marriage kind, and I think that had something to do with their incessant touching. Nothing like unrequited sexual urges/tension (28 years in the making) to make you do all sorts of weird stuff, like public displays of affection. Gross.

At any rate, the home movies/slides were adorable and I got to see Brett in his underoos, which all 70’s/80’s era children had to wear. Additionally, I learned the Brett’s father had to work away from the family for months at a time, and so Brett’s mother was alone, with two young kids and a job and a house, and her family was far away in North Dakota. When I learned this bit of information I inquired, “How did you manage?” She shrugged her shoulders and said, “I just did because I had to.” She’s awesome. Sometimes you just have to do what you gotta do, and that’s what you do. Simple and effective.
Part I of an ongoing series: If we had a lot of money, then these are some things I might have at our wedding:

1) A small orchestra playing Albinoni’s Concerti a cinqe while I walk down the aisle

2) An actual aisle

3) An organ playing Widor’s Toccatta from Organ Symphony No. 5 when we exit the ceremony (raised by music dorks, I can't help it)

4) Cristal all around! (I don't know? Is Cristal really all that? I'd settle for the Champagne of beers if it meant everyone in attendance would get loaded and have a good time!)

What did you guys have playing when you took the walk?

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

One of the reasons I felt compelled to delete all of my previous entries was due to the fact that a lot has changed over the past few months, and I felt like those entries really did not reflect me anymore. When I read those entries it felt as though I was writing as someone else. It felt like I was trying to portray a character, because much of what I wrote about really wasn’t anything terribly personal or relevant (aside from some entries that occurred on a “solid” day). I believe that this occurred because the past few months have involved so much change that I got lost a bit. I’ve certainly felt lost. I think both Brett and I have felt lost due to every single thing being different and trying to sort out what we want, when we want it, and whether we truly value the things we think we want. Throw in some intense desire to please everyone in our lives and you’ve got a recipe for forgetting who you presently are. It’s confusing and sometimes depressing and sometimes exciting.

The reason we left Montana was to give me more opportunity in my career, and because I was certain it would be better. However, we got here and I realized that maybe I am not as driven in my career as I thought. This is a HUGE change in my perception of my life because I always thought of myself as a highly motivated, successful, career oriented individual and I never wanted to settle, I always wanted to be working towards something better. Now I’m here, and I think maybe I want to change gears a bit. There are particular reasons for this, which involve specifics about my job and where I work, but regardless of those, I’ve simply matured and gotten appropriately bitter and cynical. I see how it works now, and there are a lot of games that I cannot and will not play. Money is nice and I certainly enjoy paying bills and living in a nice house, but my career has not, and will not give me the satisfaction I thought it would.

So, now what? I don’t know. Brett’s in school and I want him to be happy in his decision to pursue a new career, and I am excited for him, but I’m also feeling jealous that he can go back and do it again. I could too, just not right now. Maybe in the future, and that’s exciting to think about. Of course I just want to be positive and stop being so damn insecure. I’m insecure about work, I’m insecure about my body, I’m insecure about my ability to manage finances, I’m insecure about having moved in the first place, I’m insecure about losing and keeping and making friends, I’m insecure every time I deal with my family, I’m insecure about throwing a wedding (not the marriage, but the party), and I’m insecure about my ability to make choices. This is kind of a yucky place to be and I need to calm down and just let it roll for a while. I’ve got so much to be happy about, and yet my insecurity dims it all and makes me feel separated from my life.

Brett and I came up with a new motto last night (for both of us): “Stop being such a bitch.” (“bitch” in this sense meaning, pussy or person who cannot see the forest for the trees, or someone who may engage in self-defeating practices and who may not appreciate all the good they got)

Monday, November 26, 2007

Destroying the evidence

Hi everybody!

I had a minor "delete" fit the other night, because I was reading some of my posts and got all red in the face and embarrassed and self-conscious and suddenly feared that someone at work would find it and really I should just follow the creed of the Dooce and never write about anything having to do with work. Also, I tend to write and not proof read and hit publish and there are oh so many errrorrs. So . . . I'm not gone, just using a blank slate because (a) that writing was sloppy; and (b) I'm paranoid; and (c) I can do better. Now don't go thinking I'm suddenly going to turn on the correct grammar switch, because that ship sailed in 8th grade when I decided that diagraming sentences was against my religion, and then it briefly came into port again in law school, but now I'm just too lazy. If I ever get to write like a normal person (and not a legal drone) and get paid for it, then we'll reconsider. But for now, I will write like I write emails to friends because you all are nice and forgiving and lovely persons.

I hope everybody had a happy Thanksgiving! I'll be back after work.

Love, Flib