Morrison and I are working on our own version of a feel good sports movie, (the sports part NOT brought to you by me.) And so, as ‘research’ (read: reasons to not go anywhere on a Friday night when it’s raining 11 inches in a city with basically no gutters) we watched COOL RUNNINGS. REMEMBER IT? It’s hilarious, and so weird, and so colorful, and even poignant. And it’s not even about winning, per se. ‘A gold medal is a wonderful thing, but if you’re not enough without the medal, you’ll never be enough with it.’ JOHN CANDY YOU’RE SO RIGHT. We must first make peace with ourselves before receiving medals, if we are to receive medals at all. THANKS JAMAICAN BOBSLED TEAM!
When you are born to your parents, you are helpless and small and cute. Then, tragically, you grow up into just another jerk with a blog, and suddenly, THEY are the cute ones. Namely mine. They’re becoming grandparents for the first time next month, so they went on one last hurrah (though surely there will be plenty more hurrahs) up to Vermont to snow-shoe and snow-mobile and other snow verbs that are NOT SKIING AS THEY ARE SOON TO BE GRANDPARENTS. And basically the pictures reveal that it has been the cutest thing. As they are not huge picture posters, it is up to me, the jerk with the blog, to share with the world. PRESENTING, CUTE!
I’m reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s Brave Magic, a book on ‘Creative Living Beyond Fear,’ which makes me feel like the like the largest white girl cliche there ever was, like I’m covered in greek yogurt and surrounded by moleskin journals, but still, it’s got some fantastic nuggets about how a creative person ought to view their creativity. She stresses that we must hold this paradox in our heads: that what we’re creating is the single most important thing in the world, and also, the least. It has meaning, but also, it does not. The stakes are high, but also low. What we do is beautifully unnecessary. She pulls this quote from Tom Waits: “I realized that, as a songwriter, the only thing I really do is make jewelry for the inside of other people’s minds.” Is that not the most wonderful description of a piece of art that you have ever heard? For me, it is. OKAY, OFF TO MAKE SOME BRAIN BRACELETS!
I always wondered when I might have a day that I am actually so engaged in my actual life that I COMPLETELY FORGET TO BLOG. It’s embarrassing to admit but it truly shoots through my brain as soon as I wake up, what to blog about today? Today that did not happen. I joined a gazillion other Americans in a beautiful, peaceful march up to Trump Towers, I saw a beautiful, life-affirming musical with two of my favorite gals, and then saw a performance of a play that I wrote. I was, in fact, so engaged in my own life, that I had nothing to say. And I still don’t. Happy, today, to be alive, and able to march and watch and write things at all.
Today, on the inside of my head is a Party City during a blowout Sale: I worry about basically everything all of the time, but there is usually one thing at the forefront of my worry that is taking up the most space. It’s usually something fairly irrational based off of imagined scenarios. Usually, at some point, this thing turns out to be completely unfounded, and I no longer have to worry about it, and so I move onto the next thing in line. I do not even pause to celebrate the fact that the thing I’ve been worrying about is actually totally okay. Why spend so much time worrying about something if I’m not even going to take a moment of PHEW! THAT THING IS FINE! I hereby vow NOT to stop worrying, because that would actually require me having part of my brain removed, but instead — when a worry gets resolved, I will have a little worry party in my head, in which I close my eyes and enjoy the tiniest moment of peace. THEN OF COURSE MOVE ON TO TSUNAMI’s.
Morrison and I are off to Bali and Hong Kong next Friday for our HONEYMOOOOOOON! It does not feel real. We are doing WHAT? In typical myself fashion, I have been fretting about earthquakes (not unfounded, there was sadly a 6.5 in Aceh yesterday that claimed some lives) and tsunamis and turbulence and conversions and bugs and logistics instead of actually, you know, being excited for this incredible thing that we are so fortunate to get to go and do together, the beauty we are about to see. And so: I hereby reject my worry. I will focus only visions of THIS SPA IN UBUD THAT IS ALSO AN ELEPHANT SANCTUARY SO YOU GO AND GET A MASSAGE AND WATCH THE ELEPHANTS JUST SORT OF HAPPILY WANDER ABOUT.
It’s the timmeeee of yearrrrr
When the world
Falls in love
And I sit on the couch watching Hallmark Christmas movies that are bountiful and limitless and appear to be made for approximately nine dollars a piece, and I judge their predictable plots and cheese covered dialogue and tell myself I’m watching them ironically and shout at my husband THIS IS MY VIDEO GAMES but then quietly sob when the commercials come in which nice people do nice things for strangers, and then the sobbing leads me to wonder, am I a Hallmark Christmas movie writer? IS THAT REALLY WHAT I AM? SHOULD I JUST MAKE THESE FOREVER? AND EVER? AND EVER? AND EVER?
OH SO YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE WITH WEDDING TALK? NO MA’AM. I have a head cold that just won’t quit and stress and fatigue just in general, but what I also have is THIS MOMENT WHEN I HID IN AN OFFICE WITH MY BRIDESMAIDS BEFORE WALKING UP THE AISLE, SIPPING TEQUILA AND SHOVING PEANUT M&Ms AND GOLDFISH CRACKERS INTO MY FACE AND I NEVER FELT SO BEAUTIFUL.
Because not all bridesmaids could make the Vegas trip, as some are with child, both inside and outside of their bodies, and also because I’m the luckiest girl in the world, Julien (my oldest friend in the world) threw me a beautiful bridal luncheon the day before the wedding. And because she is a genius person, it was a MAKE YOUR OWN TOAST PARTY, complete with a charming toast menu that matched our invitation, and specialty wine glasses with my friends’ nicknames for me all over them, and of course, buckets and buckets of rosé.
Wait, let’s take a closer look at that there menu:
It was only one of the greatest afternoons of my life. I got to sit around with six of my most world favorite gals, eating toast. I got to gift them all with flannel shirts and overly earnest love letters to our friendships. Most bestly, I asked them all to give me marriage advice, either based on their own marriages, or marriages they have witnessed, or just, you know, advice.
Some favorites: Give each other time and space, especially after having a baby. PATIENCE. Really, really don’t go to bed angry. And it’s gonna be hard sometimes, but it’s great. And don’t hide things from each other, but keep a few things just for yourself. And Let him play video games. Bekah, just let him do it.
My advice to YOU: FIND AND BE FRIENDS WITH THESE EXACT WONDROUS WOMEN.
EXCEPT THAT SKETCHY CHARACTER IN THE OVERALLS. STAY AWAY. ONE MOMENT OF FRIENDSHIP WITH HER AND SHE WILL FILL YOUR APARTMENT WITH EARNEST NOTES.
GOOD AFTERNOON, and welcome back to the joyful spin cycle in my head! Today, the decor. When you wed beneath fall foliage, you really don’t need much, so we just went with some simple Decorative Wedding signs (lovingly crafted by Morrison’s awesome bro John and his wife, Jacy):
And then some simple basic everyday framed pictures of Cracker at every table.
We also put bowls of skittles at each table because skittles. Our florist is the kind of gal who simply picks mountain wild flowers the day before and brings them over, so that the whole thing seems like a beautiful coincidence. Here’s the main big guy that my Dad HAPPILY loaded on his truck when my Mom attempted to take it home and preserve it, and even more happily took it back off when it definitely didn’t fit:
As for the cake, I just so happen to have gone to high school with a phenomenal baker, Jessica. She made three beautiful chocolate pound cakes, one of which we ate with our hands the next day, another of which we will eat with our hands in one year:
New Years, a few years back, Morrison and I spent an absurd amount of time dreaming up a cobbler truck business, with eight very specific flavors with very specific names. And so, we also went the cobbler route at the reception. Jessica made these wondrous mini jars of rosemary blackberry and peach ginger cobbler:
Guests dumped the cobblers over vanilla ice cream, like the perfect kind that comes from a bucket. Special thanks to our other high school friend, Missy, for helping make the table look like PINTEREST COME TO LIFE THAT ALSO YOU CAN EAT.