holy matrimony

Saw my first wedding today. Didn't cry. Almost laughed a few times because some things seem so corny and been there done that. But I guess with weddings, everything has been said before. Nonetheless, the two people who were lucky enough to find eachother and blessed enough to get married today, are two of the kindest people I have ever met. And no matter the dress, or the guests or the ceremony, thats what weddings are truely about. So I must say I was touched, and incredibly overjoyed that wonderful people have found each other.
I remember listening to the vows, the things people say that they will do for the other person for the rest of their lives, and I wonder what those things should be. What are the things that truly matter after 10 years? What is it that is going to be the hardest? The pastor wisely said that it takes a community to make a marriage work. It takes the commitment of two people, but it takes the support of many. I think this is the most true statement of all the advice or toasts or blessings of the evening. Marriage can't possibly be easy. But, I wonder what would make marriage difficult for me. I can't help but wonder if a man would know what he's getting into if he married me. Would the vows have to be special for someone who is different? They say in sickness and in health, but what do most people know of sickness? Do they know how it can wear a person down until all that made them who they are is no longer there? And what about insanity? Does that fall under "sickness"? I can't help but think what trials a marriage will actually face. But I think they stand a much better chance with a community of support, where struggling or difficulties or quarrels are something to talk about rather than hide. Often times I feel as though we fake our way through relationships or fights or fake ourselves into compatibility, but marriage isn't a relationship. Marriage is a life, a choice, and a bond where there is no place for faking or lies. I just can't believe how not ready for marriage I am.

Becoming Jane... Becoming me

Two years ago I sat in a hotel room in Philadelphia reminiscing about the last 5 months I spent working as a ski instructor, traveling to New Zealand, camping and hiking remote places, and cultivating a friendship with a man thousands of miles away. With time to kill before school started, I rented "Becoming Jane." And somehow, despite a turbulent year filled with enough discouragement and setbacks to last me many more to come, I still found myself romantically cheering for the two main characters and simultaneously hoping that someday I could have a fantastic love story of my own. Not even the trials of the hardest year of my life could shake free my desire for love and a glimmering hope that I could find happiness. My desire for love, my love of love transcended it all. A desire so steadfast, so unshaken that the idea of unfulfilled love seemed the most horrible thing in the world. As I sat on the pull out bed of the hotel room watching young Jane Austen fall in love with a brilliant but poor man, I believed at every turn that they would end up together, somehow. It was just meant to be, love like that, they had to be together. I never doubted the ending; I never imagined they would become estranged lovers living separate lives, their love a distant memory but a contiguous emotion. My disbelief, coupled with alcohol provided by an old friend who I visited later that night, even led me to call up the most recent but incredibly distant object of my affection.
As we spoke, about trivial things at first I am sure, I said "you know what the saddest thing is?"
"What?" he said.
"When two people love each other and can't be together. That is just the saddest thing in the world."
I'm not sure what he said immediately after, but I will always remember his words in that conversation: "Well I think it's obvious how we feel about each other" Being me, and a little drunk, I replied, "Well I know how I feel about you, but I don't know how you feel about me."
Needless to say, I found out that night that a wonderful man on the other side of the world felt affectionately towards me. Over the next year these conversations, flirting, laughing, the occasional crying (on my part) occurred over the shoddy internet of my basement dorm room. By summer we stopped talking, I finally had some space to emotionally move on with my life, and I even forgot him for weeks or months on end over the next year.
Now, two years later, I sit in my bed after re-watching "Becoming Jane." Somehow, this time, the whole thing seemed different. I found myself wondering at times if young Jane Austen should marry the rich man for whom she has no affection. I find myself less impressed, though still wholly enraptured, by James McAvoy's character. After all, he was slightly careless, he did have a family to support, and he shouldn't just run away for love. Am I more cynical now? Am I wiser? Or is this just a part of the jadedness that society feeds you in the form of images of a perfect life, a life of financial security in an economic downturn that seems to be fraying relationships at the edges nowadays? Or am I just less naive?
I still think of the man in New Zealand. I talk to him fairly often this summer, in fact. But now the terms are no flirting or insinuation of feelings or attraction. Just a relationship built on the theoretical and moral discussions of two intelligent people. And I like it that way. It is stimulating, something to look forward to, but it is not something on which to hinge the balance of my hopes or happiness. And so things have changed. A year has gone by, emotions have leveled - much more than they have been in the past -, and I seem to have a different outlook on things. Not sure what that outlook is, not sure that I'm ever sure until I look back and find my perceptions illuminated only by the fact that they have shifted into another indiscernable form. But such is life. As long as I still cry for the love lost, or the pain of love unfulfilled due to the hope that love can indeed be fulfilled, I think I will be fine.

Stupid, crazy, life

If someone asked me what I did today I think I would forget to mention that I got vocal chord surgery. I would, however, remember that I did my physical therapy for my shoulder, ate a low acid diet to kickstart some serious management of my acid reflux, and watched the movie "The Backup Plan," at which point I found myself thinking: okay artificial insemination to be a single mother could work. Yep, I was sitting in my living room thinking if JLo can be a smokin hot single mom and then still find the love of her life, there's a shot for me even if I do make it all the way to the ticking-clock-baby-phase of my life completely single. And, yes I will maintain my dignity and wit look just as good (or so I tell myself).
But wait. What the hell!!? When did I start thinking about getting married and having kids? And when did I start thinking about the possibility that I might not be able to do either? Well, I probably doubted it just about as soon as I started thinking about it. That's a real healthy psyche there. Lets analyze that for a bit shall we? -Eh no thanks, I think that one is pretty obvious: fear of failure.
But man when did I start growing up? logistically? Yes, I believe thats what it is. I have always been emotionally mature, mentally strong, physically okay (I have my share of sports and medical issues, probably that contributed to the annoyingly ostracizing mental and emotional maturity). But, when did I start growing up logistically? When did I start worrying about health insurance payments and credit cards and my ability to find, attract, and keep a man worth spending my life with? That is a whole lotta pressure without a whole lot of time to digest or comprehend any of it. No wonder I have acid reflux- just kidding, I have no idea why I have acid reflux.
I would say that Im surprised that I seem to keep forgetting that I went under general anethesia and put my vocal health in someones hands this morning, but with so many other things hegemonizing every neuron of my brain, it's not so inconceivable. I am at the crossroads of my life, of my adult life. People won't tell you that, not freely. But these years, days, decisions create the paths that will lead us to the rest of our lives. No these paths are not set in stone nor are they clearly "right" or "wrong," but somehow that complicates the decisions even more. What do I want to do? but, better yet, do I really even need to decide what I want to do? And believe me, you can spend four times as much time bouncing between those thoughts than actually tackling one alone. So I am here to tell you, that you are not alone. You are not crazy or "unprepared" or "behind" because you feel scared, overwhelmed, and confused with all the options in front of you. You are in fact in just the right place, because it is a place that you can choose to stay present in and work through. It is a place that can lead you to the life of your dreams, even if finding that path take a lot more time and mental effort than you thought. But, it is also a place that you can choose to leave. If things get too overwhelming and too many options paralyze you and prevent you from doing anything. You can always just choose a path, give it a go, and bide your time until you get the confidence to return to the unkown and find what you love.
Or thats a bunch of crap that I am telling myself tonight so that I can fall asleep. But, it sure does sound good. In the end, I feel ya. And Im here to share my experience in any way that I can. So that you can learn, disapprove, be inspired, or just get a good laugh from stories as I crawl, sprint, and get dragged into adulthood. Yippee ki yay mother F*&^as - here we go... (and yes I realize that is neither PG, nor disney, but it sure is a great last line to your surgeon as you head into surgery ;) )