30 June 2008


(Because my pictures of the ceremony came out a bit dark and blurry, I give you Gummy Worms in my cleavage! "oooh! A piece of candy!")

Can I just say... (and since it's MY blog, I think I can) that I am terribly proud of myself?

Before I get started telling you how great I was, I really, once again want to thank CSB. Without him, the ceremony wouldn't have sounded half as nice as it did. Without him, I wouldn't have had the glass of wine before the ceremony that allowed me to calm down just a little bit. Without him, I wouldn't have had someone standing next to me all morning saying, "don't worry, you're going to be fine." And, I don't know how to explain (to him, or to any of you) how huge that last part is to me.

As is normal for me at any wedding, I jumped in and helped out where I could. I've been involved in so many weddings, I seem to have a pretty good idea how they work. Of course, before the ceremony, I did a lot of pacing and reading over my part, and trying to get my hands to stop shaking (again, the glass of wine, an invaluable tool).

As the ceremony began, I found myself standing in the wrong place. I was told the bride and groom were going to be ON the stage, not on the floor in front of it. No problem, I step down without breaking my ankle or landing face-first in the bride's cleavage (thank goodness I chose to wear flats instead of heels).

I briefly consider my brother's wedding, where I had ZERO volume control, and yelled at everyone for a second before figuring out that I could bring it down a notch. I briefly consider the microphone that is stratigically positioned on the stage (where we were "supposed" to be). I hear CSB in my head saying, "don't worry, you'll be fine," and then, "remember, if you think you are going too slow, you probably aren't, slow down even more." And, then I begin.

I hear my voice in the hall. I can feel it hitting the back wall, and NOT returning to slap me in the face. I hear it clearly and slowly pronouncing the words correctly, not stumbling over the slightly tongue twisting rhymes, and not going too quickly (so I slow down a little, and smirk at CSB). Deep breath. Holy crap, this is going well. I pause for laughter in the right places, I wait for applause at the end before I present the happy couple, I introduce them and say the right name.

Quickly, finish my glass of wine, then outside for pictures (really, I can't wait to see the "Morris Family Photo"), then back in. The rest goes as a typical wedding should. Eating, drinking, dancing, dollar bill tucked into my bra... the usual.

I had a couple of dances with CSB (which really made my night... maybe someday I'll tell the story of why dancing means so much to me), stole cupcakes from the Berg children, and the Morris Enterprises Team went out for dinner when all was said and done.

By the time we woke up Sunday morning, I felt fully justified in a day of lounging on the couch and watching movies. Happy with myself, happy with CSB, happy to have seen good friends (friends I don't get to see often enough), yes... overall, very happy.

28 June 2008

Not a Poet

Yeah, sure I write a little here and there.
Sometimes it even makes sense.
But, I'm definitely NOT a poet.

Meter, verse, cadence, iambic pentameter, dactylic tetrameter, it all sounds good in theory, but my brain doesn't really work that way. Though, I might be able to come up with a naughty limerick for you... if you give me enough time. (wait, what rhymes with vagina?)

Recently, I've been asked to perform a wedding ceremony. No problem, I've done a couple: stand up, read some stuff, do some things, and (the part that has always been tough for me to get through without tearing up) pronounce the couple married. The most difficult part is putting together the ceremony, mostly because people don't seem to know what it is they want me to say.

The only thing I really know about this upcoming ceremony is that the couple has already written their vows (good, one less thing I have to worry about), and the vows are in the writing style of Dr. Seuss.

Me: "So... do you want the ceremony to follow suit? Rhyming and whatnot?"
Her: "OH! Yeah, that would be great!"

Great. Me and my big mouth.

So, I spent Monday afternoon writing a (very brief) rhyming ceremony. And, every time I read it, I knew it didn't flow right... but dammit, at least it rhymed. I had been working on it for hours, and really needed a different brain to look at it, so I sent it to CSB to see what he thought. And really, thank goodness I did. He read it, fixed it up a little, and sent it back... is there anything this guy can't do?

The ceremony is written. I have a pretty new dress to wear. I have several pair of shoes to choose from (and might bring two... a pair for the pretty, and a pair for the dancing). I have the rest of the week to practice the ceremony so I don't stumble all over my tongue in front of people.

(I actually wrote this on Tuesday, but decided not to post until after the ceremony. I didn't want to give away any surprises...)

25 June 2008

Sudden Burst

Last night after dance rehearsal, and a couple of beers, and quality time with good friends, I closed my eyes and fell into a fitful doze.

I know I slept for a while. I remember bits and pieces of a couple of dreams, but I also remember waking up at three in the morning with ideas... many ideas. Blogs to be written, headers to design, meals to be cooked, emails to be sent... you get the idea. Not my typical 'middle of the night list making,' but this sudden burst of creativity.

Not wanting to wake CSB, I didn't get up and write anything down, but as luck would have it, a lot of it stuck. I feel good today, creative and productive, as if my mind has passed some kind of creative block.

I don't know if it's because I am starting to feel better about my dancing (even though I tripped myself and landed on my ass during a dance last night), I don't know if it's because I'm starting to feel really comfortable around a group of new friends, I don't know if it was running into Liz and hearing her talk about an inspirational friend, I don't know if it's because I had been missing CSB, and spending the evening with him was just what I needed. Maybe it was just that I was sleeping on the "wrong" side of the bed.

When it comes down to it, I don't really care about the 'why,' I'm just going to enjoy that it is.

22 June 2008

He will be missed.

I remember sitting next to my dad on the couch... both of us howling with laughter... one of the few things he and I agreed upon in my teen years. The man was The Funny™, in every sense of the phrase. He was also so much more...

The man had great things to say

The man had a brilliant mind

George Carlin...may he rest in peace... and I hope he gets to haunt everyone he wants to in the afterlife.


20 June 2008

Virtuality (or: Shut Up and Talk to Me!)

All day... ALL. DAY. I've been trying to figure out what I was going to write. Since I've found it is difficult for me to write while I'm happy, I've found I'm writing less. Because, I am happy.

Honestly, I don't even know how to explain it to myself, let alone put it into words to describe it to other people.

But, that's not what I came here to write about. Because, this evening I read something that bothered me, and so, I came here to write about what other people write.

Yes, I know the interwebs provide us a bit of anonymity... and some people feel that since they are writing from a distance they can say whatever they want to say. But, if you are writing in a public forum, e.g., a blog, you know who is watching you, that strangers will see what you have to say, and you know that the people who care about you most are reading. You also know that the person your writing is directed toward will understand exactly what you are trying to say to them.

When I write something, directed specifically at someone, even if I know that no one in the world but that person is going to get it, I at LEAST know THAT person is going to get it, no matter how subtle I am attempting to be. I've been called out for specific sentences or wording, people are smart, and they know when you are talking about them. For example; what I'm writing right now. I know this will be understood by exactly who I am writing it for (actually, by my calculations, there will be two who get it - and no, I will not answer any questions about it, I'm not sure I should be writing it...let alone even ought to discuss it, just take it for what it is).

People, I beg of you, if you have something to say to someone, say it. Not in writing, in a blog or email, but in real life... because, yes, real life, and face to face conversations still exist, and are important.

Say it before it's too late.
Say it out loud, before the words change in their meaning.
Say it in person, while you have the chance.
Say it in person, where inflection and tone have a chance to help make your words more significant.
Say it while it still has the appropriate meaning, and before it's hurtful.

Because at some point, it will be too late. At some point you will have missed your chance. And, there is no going back.

When you've missed your chance, and have been told as much, its time to suck it up and move on. Too late is too late, but that is another blog for another time...

And, on that note, once you have missed your chance to say those words, IMHO it is just plain mean to say them after the fact. If you want to call someone out on their intentions, or question their character, call them (on the PHONE), or visit them, do it! But, don't just write something on the internet knowing it will make them experience emotion... and thus contact you. And, you know later when they bring up what you've written you can say, "oh no, that wasn't about you, how could you think that was about you?"

I'm sorry, but that is the chickenshit way to go about it.

I don't care what has happened to you or in your life; the interwebs, IM, text messaging, email, NONE of that is a replacement for true human companionship and interaction. Reality happens outside of our computers. Virtuality happens within them. Be sure you know the difference.

I realize this post is hypocritical.
That was kind of the point.
If you have a problem with it, call me. Let's chat about it.
Or come over, we'll have a drink and a face-to-face conversation.

16 June 2008

The "Fun" Parent (aka: NOT mommy)

"Who's picking me up from school today?"
"Daddy is. Have a good day, and follow directions."
"If I don't follow directions, you'll pick me up?"
"um.. *sigh* no, don't worry, Daddy is picking you up today."

I know, married or not, there is always a "fun" parent (the Fabulous CamiKaos - who is married, will attest to this fact). Then there is the parent that makes you eat your veggies, wash your hands after using the potty, doesn't let you watch Pokemon, and sends you to bed at a reasonable hour.

I thought for sure THIS weekend, I qualified as the FUN parent. For two days I told the ShortBus that we were going to go visit pirates... he was so excited, he could hardly sleep the night before. That was probably my fault, we tried on our costumes, and ran around like pirates for an hour before bedtime... oops.

The Pirate Festival.... OH.MY.GOODNESS.

I let him direct the entire day (once we actually managed to get dressed and get out of the house). It helped a ton that I knew half the people out there (*wave* thanks for helping to make his day so totally awesome!), he was personally greeted by tons of pirates and a mermaid, helped work at several booths, and even got close up and personal with the Danse Macabre and The Bruno Band.

Of course, for a kid that doesn't know any better... that's just how all faires are. He really has no idea that he's getting any special attention.

Then Sunday rolled around... Father's Day. He knew the plan was that he would go with daddy in the morning, have a picnic in the park, then I was going to pick him up, and we were going to barbecue with Nana and Papa (my parents). But, when I arrived at the park to pick him up, he freaked out. Screaming and crying and clinging to daddy as if he'd never see him again. And, I really do realize that it has nothing to do with me... it's not that he doesn't love me, or want to be with me... it's that he doesn't get to spend enough time with his daddy.

By the way, ShortBus calmed down a few minutes into the drive to my parent's house thanks to CSB tickling him and teasing him, and generally being great. We had a fun evening with my parents, and ShortBus fell asleep almost immediately when we got home.

Even though I'm not the "Fun" parent, I think I do pretty well... and really, I think I have all of you to thank for helping me with that.

13 June 2008

Totally Not About Rush

I've spent today wandering around in a haze.
A dream dancing on the edge of my memory... I woke up lost in another world.
All day my body, and some subconscious part of my memory, have been going back to that world without me.

Also, I've had "Available Light" (by Rush) stuck in my head all day. Wonder if it's a coincidence?

Play of light
A photograph
The way I used to be
Some half forgotten stranger
Doesn't mean that much to me

(from Available Light - Rush)

Of course, there has always been something about Presto that has kept it close to my heart. It has always been one of my favorite albums... right along with Grace Under Pressure and Permanent Waves.

But, this is not a blog about Rush. Though, I'm sure I haven't done one yet... and that just seems odd.
I'm not quite sure what this blog is about.
I suppose just another bit of rambling introduced into my hazy day.

All four winds together
Can't bring the world to me
Shadows hide the play of light
So much I want to see
Chase the light around the world
I want to look at life
In the available light

(from Available Light - Rush)

12 June 2008

I is A Smrt... and is kinda awsm too

Have you ever had a project where you knew what it would take to get it done, but you weren't quite sure if you could get there on your own? Or, you're pretty sure you can do it on your own, but you've only seen other people do similar things, and you've never actually tried anything like it before?

I'll give a little back-story for those who don't know...

Just over a year ago, I moved in with my best friend. My room is a converted garage. Truly, it is very cool... it's like having a little teeeeeeeeny tiny studio apartment, big enough for a tv and couch, a couple of book shelves, a little computer area, a little bedroom-y area, and some storage shelves... and on really hot days, I fill a cooler with beer and pretend I have my own fridge (looka me! I'm an adult!).

Unfortunately, because it is where it is... not only "outside," but also just "outside" of the bay area... it tends to get quite hot. According to the interwebs it's about 95 degrees here this afternoon... next time you have a 95 degree day, go on out to your garage at 4 in the afternoon... it tends to be a little melt-y, and a lot stifling.

So, my BFF goes to a family garage sale a couple of weeks ago, and comes across a portable air conditioning unit. She actually traded pieces of her own furniture so that she could bring this thing home and put it in my "room"... this would be why she's the BFF. She rocks.

Of course, I come home and see this tank and think, "yes, the cold would be lovely, but I live in a garage.. where the heck am I going to put this thing?" Crap. Ok. Wait. Baby steps Bob.

Step one: look at the directions and see if it's even going to be possible to hook it up. And, lo and behold, it looks like it might be likely... if I can manage to hook up the exhaust vent somewhere appropriate. Hm... well, I live in a garage... should be easy ventilation... except, all the walls are covered in corrugated metal (I dunno, I don't watch decorating shows, maybe this is all the rage). Yes, I have wainscoting... yes, it is corrugated metal.

Step two: find a vent that is near the bottom of the wall. I seem to remember one (that I've seen from the outside), next to the door. Look outside, and yeppers... only from the inside, it is covered. I mention this to my BFF and she comes in and says, "no problem, this stuff is just nailed up." She reaches out and tears down a piece of the metal, exposing the vent and says, "Just cut a hole in the metal." Sweet.

So, today I make a trip to Home Depot (yes, I know... I hate the place too), and pick up a pair of snips, some aluminum tape, and some duct work... oh yes, I said duct work. It's actually the end of an HVAC duct, where it would flair out to go into a register... perfect size for the exhaust hose in one end, and to fit into the vent at the other. Beauty.

I come home, bust out my tool bag (yep, a chick with tools... HOT), and get started. The most difficult part was getting started with the snips, not wanting to make any extra cuts, I decided to just punch through the metal, and start cutting. And really, it worked out well. I have to say, for my first time working with metal, only cutting my hand once (two little owies, but from the same incident, so it only counts as once) isn't too bad. Don't worry mom, I had a tetanus shot about three years ago, I'll be fine.

I actually cut the hole to the right size on the first try. Though, I suppose it technically could have been a bit bigger, but really... bigger isn't always better, especially when you have teh awsm aluminum tape to hide any mistakes. I didn't really expect the piece of duct work to stick out as far as it does, and I had some trouble re-attaching my fancy wainscoting, but again... the aluminum tape comes to the rescue (seriously, this stuff is like duct tape, only better, it doesn't melt).

And, for the most part that is hidden by the couch.

Oh yes, I did it myself. And, as much as certain boys like to tease me about not asking for help, it is so cool to know that I can do it on my own. I can go and purchase the right tools, and do the job all on my own. As nice as it is to know that I don't have to, it is just as nice to know that I can rely on myself. And, its really nice to have some cool air moving in my room.

OH Yeah... and YAY ME!

09 June 2008

When a plan comes together...

Last week, I spontaneously decided that I needed a night away. Not just away at CSB's house, but Away. So, after much hemming and hawing, and research on the interwebs, I finally decided Point Arena was Away enough, and made a reservation.

Yes. Please.
Ocean View?
Yes. Please.
Yes. Please.
Jacuzzi Tub?
YES. PLEASE! Where do I sign!?

CSB brought the bottle of Chandon Vintage Brut I had hidden in his fridge (so I didn't drink it on a random Wednesday... trust me, it was tempting), and Saturday morning we hit the road.

A lovely drive up the coast on a clear blue day, which included a very thoughtful gift from CSB (clever guy that he is), a walk on the beach collecting rocks and shells, a very nice room, and a late lunch on the balcony. The weather was perfect, blue skies, a light breeze, I could feel my skin drinking in the sunshine (without also drinking up a sunburn)... step one in the relaxing and rejuvenating process.

The only thing exceptional about dinner was the company and the view. The restaurant was "out" of a lot of things (certain wines, crab, artichoke hearts... *sigh*), and I was shocked that on a Saturday night in "busy" season they would be missing certain key ingredients from the menu, but life goes on.

After dinner, another walk on the beach, then back to the room for a fire, a bath, and champagne. The champagne I've been waiting on for months. The champagne that was a birthday present to myself. And, OH... yes, it was worth the wait. I realize that reclining in a whirlpool bathtub (with someone you very much enjoy), would make even a cheap champagne seem "great"... but really... wow.

We woke up relaxed and refreshed the next morning, and after a quick trip down to the beach, we were ready for the long winding drive back to civilization.

Glowing Recommendation: Next time you are passing through Bodega Bay, be sure to stop at the Tides Wharf Restaurant & Bar. Although a little pricey, the view, service, and food was wonderful! And, they weren't "out" of anything!

An excellent weekend, I definitely needed that.