This time a year ago

I cannot believe this little punkin is about to be two years old, or as he would say, in answer to your question, "I'm almost TWO!" What a journey he has taken me on over the past two years. Although he has been the easiest child in the world to care for -- no allergies, two ear infections and no other doctor visits, no food refusals (unless you count rutabaga turnips, which I don't, because how many people really love those, anyway?), beautiful routine-follower, strong, adventuresome, polite, and downright funny -- it has still been one of the hardest things I've ever undertaken. Perhaps because I see what a huge responsibility I have -- to him, to our family, to society at large -- and perhaps because I want so much to do it the best I can. I would be lying if I said that all that's great about him did not come with struggles. It most certainly did. I am proud and happy to say that he has never drunk any kind of baby formula -- he was a master nursing baby from birth, and I was so happy about it, if overwhelmingly exhausted. Because I continued to work full-time, away from home, I know that he considered nighttime to be our time. It was especially difficult because I was going to class two nights a week, working on finishing my Masters degree. For a very, very long time, he wanted to nurse every 1.5 to 2 hours, and that nearly killed me. I think I can say, in all honesty, except for one night between birth and the day he was 15 months old, that there was ONE night during which I slept more than 2 hours at a time, uninterrupted. The day after he turned 15 months old, I had a surgery and a LOT of pain medications that required that I stop nursing. He handled it completely fine, and blast! if he didn't sleep all night that night! Whatever the circumstances, I was thrilled -- there were many nights after that, while I was recuperating that Chris got up with him however many times he needed something, and I appreciated that help more than anything! I so regret not having made the time and mustered the energy to write about this mothering experience more along the way, but perhaps it is for the best -- those memories are safe with me, and I think I could tap into them if anyone ever needed some advice or just to hear that some other mom's experience was similar to her own. I feel like I have had a million epiphanies over the two years and that if I would have documented them better, I might have even more wisdom to share, but perhaps they are safe, too, waiting for the right time to re-emerge. We shall see. I am allegedly having a yard sale this weekend, and while I am more prepared than I expected with four days to go, there are still a ton of things that I need to get in order before Saturday morning arrives. Most importantly, I have coffee for that early morning, and I have a chair to sit in, and a book to read whilst awaiting customers. I have not placed an ad, though, which is what I came in here to do, and look where that got me. Hope you like the pics -- I am going to be more diligent about posting new ones here.

Machiavellian

Haven't thought of this word in a long time, but a friend used it yesterday, and it sparked interest. Interesting -- there are some aspects of the mindset that make sense in the world we live in, but I was just thinking that this way of thinking ( all the negative aspects ) are exactly what drives all these reality based competitions on television, and I wonder if it is not really having a huge negative influence on our population at large. Although I think the gen pop might not be AS cunning as one would have to be in order to be a TRUE Machiavellian! So, we might be safe for a while! - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Weird

So we are missing our 5th day of school this year today for inclement weather today. Crazy. Concerned about what this is doing to my internship hours. I HAVE to graduate in May. I need to start doing counseling for real! Russ Perry told me to call him about going to Nicaragua with Cypress Valley. If it is a summer trip, I might be able to go, but if it is spring break, I will need to pass. Baby is awake! Yay! - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Snow day

Three days. Inside. Not counting the morning I spent slurping water up off the garage floor after the hot water heater kicked the bucket and started an ice skating rink in the garage! Good times. I have worked on some grad school stuff, so that has been helpful. Typing on an iPod Touch is stress-inducing so I am going to stop. - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

       

29 or 6 2 4

Uploaded with plasq's Skitch!

Here's my kid. Isn't he fabulous? I cannot believe it's been so long since I've posted a new entry here. Maybe I was just thinking that I should not involve the whole world in the drama of everyday Elkins life. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe I was working 50 hours a week, going to grad school 2 nights a week, nursing a thriving baby boy all night every night, and trying to still have any power left to just be. Yeah, that was it. Atticus has started saying words and knowing what they mean and using them to request what he wants. It's so cool.

Current . . . after two years!

Seriously? has it been almost two years since I wrote on here? Embarrassing. Of course, in those two years, Chris and I have bought a home, and within seconds of closing, it seems, I was pregnant. I didn't know it for nearly two months (guess that's the mark of an easy pregnancy, huh?), so it made the whole pregnancy go by a little faster than it might have! On the same night that I confirmed I was pregnant -- I didn't share with him the news when I only had the "two pink lines" test. I waited a day until I could use one of the fancy schmancy digital tests that blinks at you and says, "pregnant!" Boy, was he surprised and excited! It seems like SO long ago. I figured out that I might be pregnant when I was sitting in my Biopsychosocial Assessment and Wellness class at UNT one November Thursday night, and I went to look for a highlighter in my purse. I came across a handful of tampons, and I thought, "Hmmm. I threw those in here this week because I SHOULD have needed them." Well, if you've read any of the previous posts from 2008, you know that it was a year of intense physical suffering from chronic hives, and let's just say that my menstrual period's regularity or even its existence was not of great concern to me. Anyhoo, all I knew to do, in class, to figure out if I might be PG was to trace my cycle all the way back to March because I knew I had started a pack of birth control pills at the beginning of wedding week. For obvious reasons. So here was this piece of notebook paper with monthly calendars and calculations on it for 8 months. And guess what? Yep, I should have needed those feminine hygiene products! So, there we went. I started my voracious reading about birth and pregnancy and all things related. I showed Chris the awesome documentary that Ricki Lake made called "The Business of Being Born" because I knew that I wanted to have a home waterbirth with a midwife attending, and I knew I was going to need his support in order for that to work that way it was intended. He saw it and was in! In order to tell my parents face to face, I drove like a madwoman to Marshall, Texas, the day after Thanksgiving because my Dad was leaving for China to be gone for far longer than I would have been able to keep that kind of secret. I almost made him miss his flight, but I got to deliver the news face to face. My step-mom had already guessed, but she had not said anything to him. He was so excited. To tell my mom, I had my niece, Jeorgia, ask her if she wanted to be a MeMe again! I think she didn't know what to say! She was excited too. We told Chris' family by praying for our little baby-in-the-belly before we ate our Thanksgiving meal with them. So cool. Spring brought the much-awaited second trimester -- the first one was just exhausting. I was SO tired and just wanted to eat chocolate milk shakes and peanut butter sandwiches all the time. Trimester 2 brought on the Cheerios and spaghetti cravings and some relief from the tiredness. We did a great childbirth class in May/June with Rosemary Walker called "Sweetbirth 101." I highly recommend it! I am not much of a frilly nursery decoration advocate, so I did not ever have that stress. We chose not to learn the gender of our baby until birth-day, so we officially drove everyone else crazy with not getting to know, either! We were given some amazing baby showers in Marshall and Mesquite and Dallas by friends, family, and coworkers, and we could tell by the way that little one flipped and flopped in my belly, that fun times were ahead for us! In May, I went to hang out with my friends Leslie and Robert Faust, who beautifully photographed our wedding for us, and Leslie shot some beautiful photographs of my bump. Here is one of my favorites: Faust Imaging

Working Toward Willow

Famously, the willow tree is able to bend and give and twist and not break. I am not willowy. There, I admitted it. I am stiff and staunch and stubborn, like the oak tree. That is what the last several months of my life have taught me with its cumulative experiences. I see things a certain way, and I dig in my heels, and that is how I want them to be. My way is not always the right way, but it seems I have seen things for a fairly long time, the Wright way. And now, I must learn to bend. To give. To twist and not break. What a daunting change. I have always (now I know, pridefully) considered myself as someone who adapted easily to change. But, apparently, in addition to being stubborn, I have also been delusional! Or maybe I am just getting older and set in my ways. Anyway, my dad pointed out to me that I have always been attracted to adventure and variety, but in his opinion, I have never taken kindly to change. *Pop!* Bubble burst. Add that to a mounting list of needle pricks my ego has been administered lately. Think you've got it all together? Pile it all into a moving truck and then into a storage building, and TRY to figure out where you've put it. I had to remember, upon returning from my weekend Mother's Day road trip to Marshall with my mom last night, to try and unearth a prescription that was in some box, somewhere. Luckily, I'm a moving box labeler, and finding the box was not as difficult a task as it could have been (needle in a haystack). So, with a fair amount of ease, I went to the box, and I fine tuned my disorderly way of thinking to remember exactly which box-within-a-box I had stored the prescriptions in for ease of unpacking. There it was! Then, I opened a few more boxes. Boxes are not my friend. Especially not moving boxes. Why? They are full of change. Not coins (well, some have coins), either. They usher out the old and bear in the new. Maybe that is why I am hesitating to unpack them. They are full of change. And I've finally caught up with the adjustments I've had to make thus far. This whole purge and merge experience has surely been in answer to my foolish prayer to God that he break me down and show me my need for him. I'm like that. I have to be backed all the way into the corner or beat all the way down in order for me to perform the simple act of letting go of my anxieties and to believe that God will supply my needs. Or at the very least to accept the comfort and calme God offeres me when I feel like I am in the vortex of it all. Let's just say that that little prayer has been answered ten times over, and like that one where you pray for patience, I do not advise uttering those fateful, pleading words unless you surround yourself with seatbelts and airbags and rubber walls and sympathetic ears. All of this to say that I was bombarded this weekend with questions of "how is marital bliss?" and "how's married life?" and "where is Chris?" and smiling sheepishly in response, I could only think to say, "It's good -- it's the biggest total change I've ever made in my life, and it's weird, and I let him have a break from me this weekend, and do you want the Hollywood or the Dallas answer?" Being married is great, but it's no cakewalk, and I feel like more people should take the responsiblity of being honest with people when they ask -- so that newlyweds who are smacked in the face with all that change do not feel guilty or bad about themselves when they truly understand that being and staying married is one of the most difficult things that one can ever choose to do. And that "loving a person just the way they are, it's no small thing (Sara Groves)." Chris loves me just the way I am. And that is CERTAINLY no small thing. I MUST drive him crazy on an hourly basis. But if he's still here on the eve of two months of marriage to a woman who has been ridiculously ill and uncomfortable in her own skin for nearly six straight weeks, he will be here when we celebrate our silver and golden anniversaries. I know that. And I love him for that. God blesses us both!

Hives Again

Raise your hand if you are sick and tired of hearing about me and my hives outbreaks! Seriously. They are back. Again. I am not completely covered (yet), but they appear to be spreading at a breakneck rate. I am tapering off of yet another round of steroids, and they are making me insane. Like, literally. My brother Jason told me the other day that based on some of the behaviors I described that I had been exhibiting, it sounds like I am suffering with symptoms of 'Roid Rage. Maybe I can become a professional wrestler next. Chris and I have been entertaining the thought of buying a home farther east, specifically, in Rockwall County. However, it does not appear that all the planets are properly aligned for us to do that right now, and I think we might both be at peace with that reality. I have been asked to help to administer the TAKS test to various students this week, and with the responsibility comes a sense of foreboding like none other. I cannot imagine if I were actually the classroom teacher for a TAKS grade. They should get paid extra. I am so tired lately. It is strange. The doctor said that the foggy, exhausted feeling could be due to the steroids. Not to mention the meanness. I have never BEEN sooooo moody and mean in my life. (Some would probably argue this point). It's an ugly, ugly feeling, let me tell you. Sleepy. Must walk around now.

Updates on Monthaversary

Well, it's been one month since the big day, and we are both still alive! I know, that sounds like it should have been at least a minimal expectation! I was finally able to move out of my Mesquite house last weekend, with the help of my mom, Chris, my brother Jason and my friend Sandra. What an undertaking. Chris and I are looking to move out of the city, perhaps out to Rockwall or Kaufman County. Where we can see stars at night and feel safe and a part of a community where we can get involved in a church and really set down some roots. We looked at houses in Heath yesterday, and one of them has really caught our four eyes. It's older, but it has been updated recently, and there are quite a few extremely charming things about it. It reminds me a lot of some of the groovy 1970's homes I saw and visited when working in Los Angeles. Very unique. The harsh and sweeping effects of my allergic reaction to penicillin are still raging in my body, and having never been an unhealthy person, I have determined that I, alone, am completed unequipped for dealing with illness. I know I am probably being tested (feel like I am failing at the moment), so that God can show me that if I rely solely on him, I will be able to endure, but wow! it's difficult. We are about to begin the sixth six weeks grading period at school, and I am incredulous. Just a day or two ago, I really felt like it was still October. My students, however, have found a way to learn so much in spite of my exhaustion and inattentiveness at times with them. They are genuinely concerned for me, and the other day, five year old Josue asked if he and I could pray. So he took my hand and prayed to Jesus for me to get better. Outstanding! I am having a difficult time focusing on grad school, simply because I'd much rather watch TV, be with my husband, and make orderly the house that all my stuff has rendered chaotic, but I am going to persevere through these last few weeks so that I can hopefully get 'er done and be proud of the results. I like my new coffeemaker, but I don't think it keeps the coffee hot enough. Will have to break out the thermal carafes -- one day when I figure out which box they are in! Many of you have give gifts since the wedding (or at the wedding), and I have simply not been able to make time to send out that final batch of thank you notes yet. They are coming, and we appreciate you -- and your patience. They'll get there. I promise. Emily Post and Amy Vanderbilt might look down on me for their tardiness, but I will do them! It's nice to be married -- I hope to be able to really get good at it this summer, when it will be my primary focus. I guess it is my focus now, but I don't feel like I am being a very good student! Pray for us, and thank God that I married a patient man!

Avoidance

Let it be known that, from this point forward, every entry that I write will officially be written because I am trying to avoid doing something far more practical with 5 days left till the wedding! Today, it would be packing my entire house. I have a giant Marks-A-Lot marker taped to a lanyard hanging around my neck, and I have "moving central," which is a small cardboard box with all my rolls of packing tape and extra markers to write on boxes, a case knife, and a receipt from Kroger. (Obviously, the receipt is superfluous). I am listening to NPR, a story about American who live at the North Pole (by choice) and have to keep a can under their bed to pee in during the night because it's too cold to get up. Sounds fun, huh? Buy me a one-way ticket! There are no birds, no trees, no grass at the North Pole. So, they keep a sofa in the greenhouse to hang out and keep from going totally off-kilter. Now, the lady is talking about how someone came into her greenhouse and stole all her zucchinis. She says she'll never let that one go. I cannot find my passport. I always know where my passport is. Maybe it's symbolic. That I am not feeling the urge to escape as much as I used to feel. I am so excited to see everyone at the wedding. More people RSVP'ed "yes" than I ever expected. And they're coming from everywhere -- California, Louisiana, Tennessee, Kansas, D/FW, Missouri, Arkansas . . . the list goes on. I know it will be difficult to be able to personally visit with everyone there, but that really is my goal. We are not planning on doing a receiving line just because it creates this horrible bottle-neck at the entrance, and our faces could not take a break from smiling so much in a row (no new wrinkles!), so we will just have to circulate. Some long-lost friends are coming (they were never lost, really, but as we all know, life gets in our way sometimes), and some family, and some former co-workers. My sister and I were talking the other day about all the funky dynamics that are going to be going on -- no fear that it won't work, but it will surely be worthy of documenting. The music is going to be awesome -- it's all live, except for what will play during seating (and even some of that will be live). I'm going to have to listen to some of it from around the corner. (Don't peek!) I am getting comfortable sitting on this bed typing, so I must force myself back into the fray. I still have not made the reception music mixes. Yipes!

Lost Wedding Dress

Yes, that is correct. I called yesterday to check on the status of alterations on my wedding dress, and after asking me to spell my name about 100 times, the woman at the shop, who could not FIND my dress finally said, "Let me get a number, Christi, where I can call you back. It might not be back from Florida yet." I'm sorry. I don't remember authorizing my wedding dress to take a spring break in Florida. WHAT? I knew something was up when she actually said to me halfway through the conversation, "Don't worry. Don't be upset. We'll find it for you." Um, yes you will. Or you will refund all my money and give me a new one. About a half hour later, there was a voice mail on my phone from Janice saying, "Hi, Christi. As soon as the pressure was off, I went directly to your dress. We've got it ready for you, and you can call and make an appointment to come in and try it on. I'm sorry." Oh. My. Gosh. I nearly died. Anyhoo, after running by my house to pick up my new cell phone that FedEx had dropped off, I drove to Garland, with my inordinately stuff head, and tried it on -- perfect fit! Now, of course, I want all my clothes personally tailored to fit only me. Is that too much to ask? I have been attacked by allergies again, of some sort, and my head feels as if it is stuffed full of gunky cotton balls. Lovely. Maybe if I'm lucky, it will be pneumonia. But what is a girl to do when she has developed an acute allergy to -cillin and -sporin antibiotics one week before her wedding? Go to the doctor? Risk the Plague of the Hives again? I don't think so. If anyone has any ideas, do email me. Or write a comment here. If anyone has any connections with any natural healers in the D/FW area who might like to do some pro bono work, tell them to call me, too. I hate coughing. My chest hurts. I have been to the doctor more times in the past month than I have in the past year cumulative, I think. 9 days. Can't wait. Hope to feel LOTS better by then!

Me and two of three maidens

That's Lori Kay Lorenz on the left (friend since the wombs) and my sister Tara Evers on the right. My sister, Karyn Wright, could not be with us because she was working and/or being trapped in a blizzard in Long Island, NY. Oh, and she was sick, too. She's in Dallas right now and she's feeling better. We missed her greatly. She would have had a lot of fun with the inflated lip thing. You gotta laugh about it.

Remember the sister in "Sixteen Candles" on her wedding day?

I am certain that Emily Post would turn over in her grave if she actually saw me sliding out of my chair this way at a bridal shower in my honor. But, then, i'm also fairly certain that if Emily Post paid really close attention to me in my daily life, she'd pretty much look like a pig roasting on a spit in her grave for all the turning she'd be doing! I was doing my very best considering my innards were on fire with symptoms from a heretofore-unbeknownst-to-me antibiotic allergy that I had been fueling for going on three weeks. At least my shirt was pretty!

Me and Mom at Central Baptist Bridal Shower

My Angelina Jolie Pillow Lips were starting to deflate at this point thanks to Benadryl

I'd Like To Thank The Academy

So. It’s Oscar night. Unlike in many years past, I am not sitting clustered around the television with all my movie-loving friends, vying to win the prize for having made the most, best educated guesses on our party ballot. Where am I instead? Sitting in a pile on my mother’s couch in Marshall, Texas, nursing a poisoned body. Yes. Poisoned. Unintentionally. Unknowingly, even. Did you know that even if you have never exhibited any kind of allergy to any kind of drug for your entire life on earth, all of a sudden, you can be allergic to two different classes of drugs? Regrettably, it is true. Last Wednesday, my hives starting to show up again, little by little, disguised as little red chicken-pox-like dots on my torso. On Thursday, they were back in larger patches, on more parts of my body. Thursday afternoon, I was having fever and chills and flu-like achy body symptoms. I called our employee health clinic to see if I could come get a flu test (because I had been exposed to a co-worker with the flu), but they were booked up and made me an appointment for noon on Friday. Upon leaving work on Thursday, it occurred to me that I was staring down a weekend with a commute to and from Marshall for my very first (two) bridal showers at my mom’s church and at my church there. I had been looking forward to that weekend for a VERY long time, and I decided that it was a better idea to go ahead to another walk-up clinic Thursday night, get the flu diagnosis and start taking Tami-flu ASAP. After several hours in the waiting room, I went back to the exam rooms, and they swabbed my nose, testing the fruits of that excavation, and the flu test was negative. No flu? Why did I feel so close to death’s door? They gave me a couple of prescriptions – one for something to help me sleep when my busy brain will not let me and an antibiotic called Ceftin for my alleged sinus infection (I’m still positing that the “doctor” who attended me in that clinic was a veterinarian-in-waiting). I waited until the next day to fill my prescriptions so that I could do that at our employee health clinic and not have to pay a $100 deductible (a serendipitous, God-thing because if I had started that antibiotic one day earlier . . . well, just read on for the gory details and could-have-been-worse scenario). Cut to Friday morning. More hives. Some fever. Went to work and had plans to cancel the noon appointment at the clinic. As the morning wore on, and I found myself unable to stop scratching, I decided to spend my lunch break with the doctor. She saw the hives, prescribed me a steroid pack to last seven days, gave me some anti-anxiety medication to last 20 days should I need it, and prescribed another steroid shot. And she sent me on my way. I filled those prescriptions as well as the ones given to me by Doctor Doolittle the night before. When I got to my car, I pulled out some cash to buy myself some lunch on the way back to campus, and I took the first dose of steroids and antibiotics. During the afternoon, nothing felt better. Friday night, I got dinner with my friend Karen at Napoli’s (“Good evening, beautiful ladies, are you enjoying your dinner?” – if you’ve ever eaten there, you know that guy). Then Karen followed me to my house to help me get together some boxes and other items for Chris and Jason to move to Dallas on the weekend. One of the items was my queen-sized bed, so I slept in my guest room. I usually turn the heat down at night, but I guess because I was having fever, I got chilled during the night, and mindlessly reached over to turn on my heated mattress pad so I could warm up and sleep comfortably. When I woke up Saturday morning, my hives had multiplied and intensified. I ate a little breakfast, took my medicine, got ready, packed and hit the road. As I was driving and listening to a very interesting book on tape, whose title I have totally forgotten by now, I glanced in the rearview mirror only to see that my lips had swollen four times their usual size. Fine if you are looking to make a name for yourself in the adult film industry, not so fine if you are going to meet a roomful of lovely ladies, friends and family, and poised for a lot of camera flashes. Some of my own family did not recognize me! I tried as best I could to maintain composure (somewhat successfully – I learned as a very young girl the value of laughing at myself). There were about forty people at the shower in the beautiful Central Baptist Church parlor, and I would like to take this moment to apologize to any of you wonderful guests with whom I did not get to visit. By the time you saw me, I had ingested Benadryl, Xanax (on doctor’s advice), and Ceftin, the antibiotic that I did not know was poisoning me. Not until Sunday did I understand that I had been fueling the problem by taking those antibiotics. I had blamed every other obvious variable in my life for the past three weeks for all this diabolical distress. First, I had no idea. Then I blamed the paint primer. Next, I thought it might be work stress. Packing and moving stress? Primer stress again? Then, there the hives were again, out of the blue. The doctor suggested that with all of the above, perhaps my ordinarily strong-as-an-ox immune system was suppressed, and it could not resist my newfound penicilline and cephalosporin allergies. Yes, both of them. Three weeks ago, I had strep throat (for the first time in my life, and I have been exposed to it A LOT!), and I took a full, ten-day mega-course of Amoxicillin. AND a SHOT of penicillin straight into my system! Several days later, the first hives breakout occurred, but it coincided with the paint priming of my future living room, so it was easy to blame the fumes. Two steroid shots. Hives gone within 24 hours. But apparently, the poison was there in my body, incubating, waiting for those shots to wear off seven days later. Because on the 8th day . . . scratch-scratch, itch-itch. Fast forward to 2nd course of antibiotics (I hate the things, by the way, and I usually try to ride out the illness if it’s not too severe). But this time, there was too much going on, and I just didn’t have the energy to fight it by myself. Big mistake. Well, clearly I need an editor, because I am going on too long, but all of this to say that I have been shoveling poison into my sweet little body for three weeks now, and right now, I look like I got closed up in a hermetically sealed room with a swarm of killer bees. Since Friday, I have used three full tubes of cortisone cream to help avoid itching to death, and today, when I could no longer stand it, I asked my mom to take me to Longview to the doctor. I had enough clarity to call my insurance company to find someone to see on a Sunday, and they kept me out of the ER when my mom remembered a little clinic in a shopping center in Pine Tree. I called WEB TPA back, and they confirmed that the clinic accepted my insurance. And there was virtually no wait. I begged for another of those quick-acting steroid shots, but the doc told me that since I had had a shot on Friday (glad I remembered to mention that), a shot on Sunday would send my body into adrenal shock which would then send my body into the ER with IV’s and a multiple-day stay. Pass on that option. Thanks. So he gives me a much higher dose of oral steroids, and tells me to eat lunch and clears me to go to my second bridal shower for the weekend. We make a mad dash to Marshall, I call two of the shower hostesses to let them know I will be there, but I will be late, and my mother drops me off at her house and goes to Walgreen’s to buy two cans of burn spray (perhaps my most inspired idea to date – numb the skin so that it doesn’t know it’s itching!), four tubes of cortisone cream (as of right now, displaced by the lidocaine spray), new steroids and Zantac (which apparently makes the steroids work more efficiently for whatever reason). Oh, one more gory detail. When you are being poisoned, and your body figures out that it needs to get rid of the poison for you . . . guess what? It does. But I don’t throw up. So . . . imagine the delight of adding the alternative method of purging poison into the red, itchy, hivy mix. So, that was my weekend. How was yours? In honor of Oscar, I would like to thank . . . My mother, who has nursed me like a baby through this crisis, and who has gone out of her way to make certain that I am comfortable and fully prepared for whatever comes next. My friend Lori, who gave up an inordinate amount of her personal/family time this weekend to come to my showers and to offer help and encouragement and ideas to ease my mind and body. My sister Tara, who found hours in her days that I know she does not feel like she has, to come to my showers, to keep track of all those amazing gifts, and to extend to me her unique brand of empathy, genuine positive regard and just plain beautiful smile and good humour. My friend Becky, who arrived within minutes after my calling her to give her expert opinion of the spread of the hive monster all over my body. My aunt Tommie, who let me crash at her house when my mom’s neighbors were burning leaves to which I am allergic, and I just didn’t feel like I could stand to get congested on top of all this other. Oh, and I think I owe her, like, three rolls of toilet tissue for that three hour visit. The lovely ladies who put together those two showers for me – I was so excited about them, and I hope that, in spite of my grotesque appearance and compulsion to show you my red, splotchy skin, you were able to see that I was brimming with gratitude, and I truly did feel like a woman being honored by people who love her and her mother. Thanks to each of you! To every guest who gave of their time and treasure to share this special time with me – I know there were numerous of you with whom I did not get to spend much time catching up, but please know that I saw you there, and I will never forget the gift of you!

Christi Must Really Be Feeling Bad

She must really be feeling bad because she actually forgot the log-in to her own blog. Christi forgetting how to log in to write something? Hard to believe, huh?

The Down Side

The down side of all the marvelous-ness of getting married and having a fun wedding is that it unfortunately also involved downsizing my life, purging the unnecessary and unsentimental, and kicking some crap to the curb. I'll be all glad I did it when it's all over and done with, but right now, it's bogging me down. I slept 14 hours last night save about 15 minutes when I got up to go to the restroom and read an email or two. And you know what? I think I might give it a go again tonight. I packed about 18-20 boxes, and I have two huge bags of stuff to give away, and three other huge bags of stuff to just put in the dumpster. Ridiculous. I caught up on some programs on the DVR while wading through all of it today, and I learned that 5% of people who smoke get lung cancer, but 33% of people who smoke get emphysema. I saw two sets of lungs that had been autopsied: one from a smoker and one from a non-smoker. Yipes. An alarming difference. I am so thankful that with all the things I ever flirted with that were bad for me, I successfully avoided becoming a smoker. Off-topic, I know. But I just saw the program, so it was fresh on the brain. We have started to get RSVP cards back, and so far, most responses have been in the affirmative. Very exciting! Next weekend begins the out-of-town-every-weekend trend. Next weekend, I will be in Marshall for a couple of church showers -- I am very excited about those because I know I will get to see some friends I have not seen in a very long time! Then, the next weekend, I am going to Nashville for a shower there with some super-fun friends! That should be a big time, too. Of course, as you can imagine, getting engaged and then muddling through the contents of my life have evoked quite a few uncontainable emotions over the past few months. I have at last physically purged some things that I feel like I had emotionally purged some time ago. And what a wonderful feeling. I realized yesterday that it was probably the mega-doses of steroids that I was given on Tuesday that made me feel like I was in a rage all the rest of the week -- I felt very emotional and very aggressive and overwhelmingly desperate a time or two. There have been some situations at work that have really worn me down, and I finally got to a point on Friday where I just had to fully vent about them. And I had a very important (at least to me) meeting with the parent of one of my students whom I hope to have given a greater understanding of the nightmare I live with her child every day. We shall see if empathy occurs and then if it provokes action. I want to be finished with graduate school. I wish my life was one where I could take a year off from work and just finish the Masters in the next year. Wouldn't that be amazing? I'm just not sure that is my life. I think it's time to go to sleep. And it's only 9:32 pm. I have not seen Chris in almost a week. I miss him. But that's the way the ball bounces sometimes, I guess. He probably needed a break from me, anyway. I'm a bit much for people sometimes, I think.

Cognizance

So, I have been forced to acknowledge something that I always know but always seem to forget. I internalize stress. Not every time, mind you. Sometimes, I can be snappish. But, as a rule, it manifests itself this way: fatigue, illness, insomnia. I've had all recently. Another thing I always do is ignore the proven fact that if I exercise, I feel better. Ultimately, I end up looking better, too, but feeling better is far more important. In the past few weeks, I have had more than enough bouts of not sleeping through the night, I had strep throat for the first time in my life, I sprained my right foot, and last night, at 3:00 am, I was plagued with giant, red hives all over my body. When I went to the doctor this afternoon, contrary to popular public opinion, the doc suggested that the hives were simply due to not having ventilated the room well enough last night when Chris and I were painting primer on the walls of his current (our future) living room. He questioned if it was well-enough ventilated at one point, but I kind of blew it off. Yipes was I sorry when the clock struck three! What a miserable day. I stayed at school and tried my best not to lapse into snappishness, but I was surely glad to have those two steroid shots in my booty twelve hours later! And they were free, which makes them doubly delicious. Back to popular opinion -- everyone kept saying, "It's probably just the pre-wedding jitters." I have absolutely no pre-wedding jitters. Isn't that cool? Seriously, things just keep falling into place, and we have made most of our major decisions. My family is being absolutely amazing, and my friends have lent more than just a few helping hands. Incredible. I am so thankful that somewhere in the past several years, I have been taught the true meaning of friendship, the value of giving without expecting in return, and to always expect the best. I'm not perfect, mind you -- I still am a big worry-wart, and my uncanny ability to troubleshoot an idea before setting it into motion (this is often mistaken for shooting down ideas or being unconstructively critical or balloon-popping, by the by) sometimes thwarts the very execution of the idea. In spite of all that still plagues me from time to time, I have still come out on top -- I love, I am loved, and I know love. What more do I need?

Fatigue

I am sleepy. I had to drive to and from Marshall to visit with my Dad and the lovely ladies who are putting together the food for the reception. Decisions and lists were made, and that project is in more-than-capable hands! I was listening to a very interesting book on tape called "Intuitive Listening" by Christiane Northrup and Mona Lisa Schulz. It's all about how various other issues and problems in our lives (bad relationships, dissatisfying careers, abuse, etc.) manifest themselves in physical problems in our bodies. Quite powerful stuff. I call it a book, but it is more like a conversation between friends, so it's interesting and captivating -- not a droll actor reading someone else's words. Oh, and I finally finished listening to "Wild At Heart" by John Eldredge. I'd read it, but I felt like I had missed quite a bit or at least forgotten quite a bit. Everyone, men and women, ought to read that book. It's dead-on, in my opinion. Well, it's eleven days until the wedding, and all appears to be well. Well, except for some nasty respiratory nightmare that manifested itself in my lungs at the end of my lingerie shower on Friday evening. Someone wondered out loud the other day if I woke up each day looking for the frogs to start raining out of the sky since I have been plagued by so many bizarre things during the past month or so. Who knows? I need to make a master list of everyone involved in the wedding to share with all involved in the wedding. I'm gonna chug some cough suppressant and do that before falling asleep.

Various

We decided to have our reception at the church as well. It will be in a separate building, a big ol' building with fabulous audio/visual capabilities -- and we are all about that, you know! Anyhoo, I had class tonight, and it was very interesting and thought-provoking, but I really wanted to be somewhere else. Then, although very tired, I had to go to the mall to try on undergarments to be work with my wedding gown. A bother. But a necessity. And I had to do it tonight because I am having my first meeting with the alterations lady tomorrow. Hopefully, she will have time to do what I need done. It sucks. That the alterations cost as much as the dress. Maybe I should have just dropped $600 on one of those original ones I looked at. Ugh. But I love the one I have. I'd just love it more if it already fit perfectly. I am so glad tomorrow is Friday. I have not really enjoyed the heck out of teaching this week. Although, there have been some beautiful moments. Like when my student who withdrew to move to Fort Worth last week popped in for a visit, and almost every kid in my class started smiling and singing out her name. Then they gathered 'round her, hugging her and telling her that they missed her. Which made her mother break down and cry right there in the classroom because she wishes so much that they had not had to move and take her out of our class. I miss her, too. She's very intelligent, very serious but an absolute delight. I was sweating like a hog in Dillard's, and I was beginning to think I was having some sort of hot flash or something (happy wedding). Then I got home, and I started having one of those fun hypoglycemic moments when you can't get the jar of peanut butter open fast enough to make yourself the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich which is the only thing that will make you feel better in a moment like that. Then I ate some organic cereal. Can someone please tell me how to get motivated to exercise on a regular basis. Not because I am preparing for a wedding, but because I know it's good for me. I don't want to be a big blob. Now or ever. But I feel like that's what I am. I should probably take a moment to realize that I am thinking irrationally and to glance at the calendar to see which part of my demonic menstrual cycle I am on at this instant. No wonder pregnant women "glow." They aren't having to deal with the altnerative abomination. Geez. Christi, how do you REALLY feel about it. Invitations have gone out, most of them anyway. Can someone come up and clean and pack my house for me? That would be a great wedding present. I need to go to sleep. I've been up way too late by my standards the past few nights. If it's in the double digits, it's too late for me on a school night. And we are hovering near those now. Night night.

Progress

So, the firethroat was, in fact, strep throat, which in all of my years, I have never had. And now I have. May it be the first and last time. First of all, it was horrible pain, and I have a notoriously high tolerance for pain. That pain, however, I could live without. I felt like it took all the muscles in my entire upper body to force myself to swallow. Even if it WAS just my own spit. Never mind a drink of water or tea. Second, I cannot imagine feeling like that if I were a kid. My ears were hurting, and I have no recollection of childhood earaches, but I can totally see how a child might act out in class or be REALLY grumpy if they were in earache-land. My school nurse probably hates me because I send students down when I notice they are more lethargic or less bouncy than usual -- I do not have the ability to feel a forehead and determine if there is fever, but I would say that my accuracy rate for guessing it's a fever based on behavioral clues is about 90%. Before the firethroat put me down for the weekend, we were able to find Jeorgia and Hope's flower girly dresses at Macy's on mega-sale, and my mom found her dress and shoes for the wedding. That was a big check-mark off the list of things to do. The invitations should arrive on my doorstep today, according to DHL's shipping information on the internet, says Chris, and Karyn is coming to spend the night Thursday and Friday to help do some addressing. The invitation/address list is almost complete, and that's a good feeling, too. We are going to work on the "order of service" this weekend, too, and I am hoping to get that nailed down. Chris has totally changed the look of the web site to look less like Halloween (his description) and more like our actual wedding colors/theme. Big asset, having his talents at our disposal! We are going to look at our engagement portrait proofs on Saturday, and then we are trekking to Marshall to have a look at some reception site options. Believe it or not, it is STILL up in the air. It's frustrating, but so far, I have not let it wear me down (unless that's what I can attribute the strep throat to?). I just want everyone who comes to the party to have a great time and to be really glad they decided to make the trip, whether across town or across the country. I am going to Julie's mom's house this afternoon to see if she is going to be able to do the alterations on my dress that I need. If I don't stop eating, it won't need any -- I will fill it out just fine! But that will not be the case. We returned to Park Cities Baptist Church on Sunday morning to re-visit their Nearly Wed class, primarily just to let them know that we are getting married. We (mostly I) are going to be out of town several weekends between now and the wedding, so we could not attend them all, but it was interesting to be there again. It's just a helpful and thought-provoking class. More people should look to have their thoughts provoked before getting too deeply involved in a relationship. It is time to jump in the shower. Or step lightly. Yeah, I'll do that.

Firethroat

My throat hurts so bad that I have taken to numbing it in order to be able to swallow my own spit without crying.

Photo Shoot

Just got home from a photo session with Chris where we sat for engagement portraits. It was super-fun. The photographer, Candice White, was super-laid-back and fun, and we had a good time being serious AND silly. Of which we both are, quite regularly. We had a clothes change or two, and we stood, and we sat, and we squatted. I cannot wait to see the proofs! My friend Richard just called from New Orleans to discuss his visit to Texas for The Event. Very exciting. He is one fun dude. And we just had a hilarious spontaneous memory about something that happened a few years ago -- I love that. Anyway, he's putting in for his vacation today, and he plans, in true Richard style, to attend every fiesta we have that week. He'll probably find a way to make a fiesta where there was not one before, too! Anyway, back to the photo shoot -- the photographer's name is Candice White, and she was really easy to smile for, so I hope the pics turn out great. Perhaps you will see one in your favorite local newspaper sometime soon. I am writing a Personal Cultural Analysis for my Counseling the Culturally Diverse Client class right now, even though it is not due until Valentine's Day. I have the time and brain power right now, so I figured if I can knock that one out, I should get 'er done. I have to watch some films for this class, too, so that's kind of exciting! Back to that paper now. The photographer was playing an album by an artist named Grace Potter, and I've just bought two of her albums on iTunes, so now I have a soundtrack for the work at hand. Oh, and by the way, hi, Joyce! Hope you are having a fun Saturday!

Aflutter

Today, after work, I went to do some beauty stuff. I love beauty stuff. I'm trying out this bare escentuals stuff. They told me I can bring it back if I have any reaction to it. It looks really natural as best I can tell, and that's what I am going for. I also needed some hair stuff, and the store I went to had MOP products, which I love. And some of them were even on 75% off sale! Anyhoo, I also picked up a few items of clothing because Chris and I are having an official engagement portrait session tomorrow. Muy excited! Anyway, I hope we look cute. Of course, right now, I have a huge scratch on my nose, but that's why God made Photoshop, right? I don't usually have a big scratch on my nose, so I have NO qualms with making that correction for posterity's sake. I am muy sleepy and quite cold, so I might go to sleep soon. I am having breakfast tomorrow with a former coworker whom I miss so very much I just realized I have tried to not think about how much because it will just make it worse. She's someone who has a genuine passion for helping kids, and that spirit is something that I am lacking in my midst these days. Time for yogurt.

Unrelated Oscars Thing

How do I know when my mind is stretched too thin? When the Oscar nominations come out on 1/22/2008, and I don't even THINK to look at them until 6:15 am on the 23rd! Anyhoo, although I have not been a very faithful cinema-goer in the past year, I did discover this, upon reading through the noms: I have actually met and chatted with one of the nominees for Best Actor in a Supporting Role! One year, at the Sundance Film Festival, I was invited to a private party featuring some of my favorite songwriters (Emmylou Harris, Patty Griffin, David Baerwald), who wound up doing their "show" sitting on barstools in the tiny living room of a mountainside condo. And Casey Affleck was one of the actors invited as well. We chatted for a while and learned we were big fans of these same writers. It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world. He's tiny. FYI. It was sort of cooler the time I met Anthony Hopkins, but the Casey Affleck thing was much more casual and far less like a crazed woman from Texas running up to meet Hannibal Lecter while he was being the Grand Marshal of a 4th of July parade in Pacific Palisades, California, with his grandchildren. I'm not sayin'. I'm just sayin'.

Excitement!

Tonight, I found out that, barring any unforeseen circumstances, all three songwriters that I signed while in Nashville are coming to sing at our wedding! How cool is that? I am so honored. You will love them and their amazingly talented and kind-hearted selves. The muscles in my neck and shoulders are about as tense as they have ever been. Thankfully, it has nothing to do with wedding planning. All of that is going quite well. It has to do with trying to be an effective kindergarten teacher, administering state-mandated testing, attending graduate school, AND weaving in planning a wedding with all of the above. I have not been able to see Chris in over a week, and he asked me out on a date for Saturday. We are spending the afternoon at Grapevine Mills mall to use some Christmas gift cards, then going out to eat and then on to a place called Love & War In Texas, to hear my friend Austin Cunningham play a show. It will be big fun. I'm just excited to get together and just chill out with Chris. It looks like things are coming together for the downtown reception -- we appear to have the blessing of both county and city officials. Now, we need to get the paperwork and applications and permits all set in place. I am very "get everything in writing"-oriented, so I am looking forward to closing that deal with as few speedbumps as possible. It also looks like we have decided to have the Dallas fiesta at what will be "our" house by March 22nd! We are going to kick home cleaning and improvements into high gear over the next little while (I told Chris that although "domestic goddess" is not a term anyone would use to describe me, I can definitely play house when I am under the gun!). I love it! Today was my last day with students until Tuesday, and I have to say that I am beyond thrilled about that fact. We have a teacher work day tomorrow, and Monday is a holiday for MLK Jr. Day. I learned tonight that it looks like I am going to be reading a chapter or two from about six different textbooks over the course of the semester, but I believe I am going to really enjoy both classes (Elementary School Counseling and Counseling The Diverse Client). The second one is very experiential, and three of our assignments actually are to watch movies and write papers about them. Movies and writing! Two of my absolute favorite pastimes. Does anyone ever watch "The Real Housewives of Orange County"? I do. There, I said it. And now, there is a "Real Housewives of New York City." All Greek to me. On the OC one, there is one wife who is spending more on her wedding dress than our entire wedding will wind up costing. Out of my realm of comprehension. Interesting. I am going to look at a book now. And highlight some key points. Then I am going to sleep with the knowledge that I only have to be around grown-ups tomorrow! Hooray!

Wedding-Free

I have tried to really rein in the worry gene with the wedding planning. I prayed about it, and I asked God to just help me find and maintain some balance. I went to grad school tonight, and I believe it's going to be okay. I spent the weekend . . . well, you know how I spent the weekend. Last night, I blew through Hobby Lobby to make a few notes on some accessories and their availability and cost, and then I went to David's Bridal to flop the Persimmon over top of the Watermelon to make sure that one did not overpower the other. Then I sort of wanted to smack the sales girl at the store in Shreveport who balked at the color combination -- it's featured on their web site for heaven's sake. She probably doesn't have a computer. Anyway, all is well, and so what if they are bright? The wedding is the flippin' first day of spring! Bright is called for. Why, you ask, am I awake, when I usually sack out between 8:30 and 9:30? Because I thought it would be a good idea to pop in the Netflix DVD that came in the mail today -- the first season of Brothers & Sisters! That is why I hardly ever watch television anymore. And if I do, I digitally record it so I can spare myself the commercial breaks, and I can save the episodes up for a rainy day when I did not have plans anyway. That way, I do not have to feel like I am being bled dry by the television industry. It is a pretty good show. I watched all four episodes on the disc. Good thing I did not order the next one for delivery at the same time, or I'd probably go to work directly from having watched the EIGHTH episode! Instead, I just went to pee, got a chunky peanut butter fix, and now I am back in the bed. Going to sleep now. Pray for my Chris. He has an important meeting at work tomorrow. And pray for me. Because I am *****'s teacher. And it's wearing me down.

Swirling Ideas

Something that sort of sounds good right now is a swirling margarita. Ordinarily, I stick to the green ones, but mixing it up is a little intriguing in this very moment. I am so tired, however, that it would really be a wasted opportunity. I just got home from graduate school, and I think the class is going to be an enjoyable. I have discovered that an organized professor really makes for a positive experience. One can also tell quite a bit about a professor's experiences in the classroom thus far depending on how they conduct the first class meeting. If they insist on going through the syllabus line-by-line, even reading it aloud perhaps, one can deduce that their experience has been that even graduate students are a little irresponsible from time to time. It is probably also safe to assume that their basic wish is that you have an enjoyable experience and that you succeed. Thus, the extra attention to detail. So. Working full time. Going to graduate school and working on a Masters degree at night. Planning a wedding. I say this calls for skipping right over Calgon and going straight to Xanax. What say ye? Of course, almost all the information I gleaned in advance about what textbooks would be required for the class was declared virtually useless tonight. Of the two books I bought that were called "required" on the university web site, one is optional. And there are three others I have to purchase, none of which are available in the bookstore. Two of those are not available online anywhere. Delight. We shall find a way, shan't we? Okay. Wedding. Today's inquest had to do with doing a little research on projected costs of permits to have the reception on Peter Whetstone Square (I really like that name) in downtown Marshall. That's what we really want to do, and we are awaiting some news from the city and the county. If we get the green light, then begins the logistical nightmare: tent, chairs, table, tablecloth rentals; from where will we get power for sound and lights?; sound; lights. Maybe it's not such a nightmare. It's just a lot to manage. We will have great wine, thanks to the generous gift of a good friend. Fresh from Italy and Australia. In fact, it might be the only place in Texas you can sample any of the three varieties. More on this later. On the way home, as I was belting out a Lionel Richie song, it actually occurred to me the silliness of having karaoke at the wedding party. I've never even done it, can you believe that? So, doing it at my own wedding is probably not the ideal place to start. The cool thing is that most of the people I know can actually sing. So that probably would not be any fun since half the good time is probably laughing at the horrible-ness. For that, people can just tune in to that American Idol horror. What else? Do we want to do wedding favors? I really have no desire to have my name printed on napkins or bottles of bubbles or matchbooks or whatever. And I have never been keen on giving people stuff to throw at me while I try to outrun them, struggling not to slip and fall on rice or bird seed. So that's out. Does anyone know what's behind that tradition, anyway? Now, if you want to throw money at someone, I'm your girl. Sign me up! But, I doubt that will be an idea well-received. Just a thought. I think I am going to go take a bubble bath now with my good friend, Mr. Bubbles. Several months ago, shortly after the fall semester began, I was beyond stressed, and Chris came over with a gift for me: two bottles of wine and a bottle of Mr. Bubbles! I did not know which to open first! Sweet, huh? He's mine. Talk of freezing rain here in the next few days. I'm split on whether I want it or not. If we don't have it, I get a 4 day weekend in May. If we do have it, I don't. By that time, I'm sure I'll be working weekends anyway to finish paperwork, so I guess I don't care. I've got some good DVD's I'd surely like to lie in bed and watch on a cold winter's day, so . . . to be determined.

Successful Weekend

Wow. What a weekend. The only time I left my house was to go to Kroger. Other than that, the only time I was around other people was when I had to get my brother to stop by to help me to un-wedge the sofa I got stuck standing up in the hallway. I successfully maneuvered the iron bed from my guest room into my computer room, but in order to do that, first I had to remove the sofa from the computer room. No problem. The problem occurred, however, when I tried to move the sofa into the guest room (aka Launch Pad for packing, sorting, purging and packing again). So there it was, standing up diagonally in my hallway, propped up by its enormity, in between the two door facings. I sent Jason a text message asking if he could help me, and his immediate response was, "Sure." No less than two minutes later, he, Jodi, and Jeorgia were here, dressed in their Sunday best. Huh? They had been at church nearby and just swung onto my street on their way home. So, he assesses the situation, tells me it's not going into that room. When I tell him I took from the room at the END of the hall, he began to reconsider. Then he said, "Um, it would help if you removed the legs first." Oh. Yep, that would help. They are at least five inches tall, adding that much width to the sofa. I looked at Jodi and said, "Sometimes, being book smart isn't all that helpful in situations like this." Not to say that I am not both street-smart AND a person of sufficient common sense. It's just that when you are faced with a ginormous sofa crushing you to your death ten weeks before you are finally going to get married, common sense sort of takes the day off. Back to When Harry Met Sally. " . . . or maybe you're trapped under something heavy." Chris was working on a video for Winston, literally all weekend, and we did not get to see each other at all. In fact, we only talked briefly Sunday afternoon, long enough for him to say that he thought he might be getting sick and that he was going to go to bed early because he felt really exhausted from having spent so much time editing and composing and all that this weekend. I wish everyone knew how much time and energy he dedicates to those projects. They are literally all-consuming. The final product is always, always top-notch and quite professional, so of course that makes everyone think it must be something he can do with the touch of a button. But in the world of templates and all things automated, he insists on doing the work as if it were a major production. Because that's how he rolls. Like a pro. That's one of the reasons I love him. Grad school night classes start on Tuesday night, and I am not sure if that will be a blessing or a curse. I have to say that I rather enjoyed my 17-hour days this weekend. Both days, I was awake by 5:30 am (not on purpose. That's how I roll!), and I really did get quite a lot done. There are five big bags by the curb, I sent a box of fun kid stuff home with Jeorgia yesterday, and I have made a little better sense of what is left in that one room. It is not complete, but now, at least, I have a comfy sofa in there to sit on while I sort through what is left. Oh! Yesterday, in the quest, I came across a file full of old emails I had printed out when switching computers about 8-9 years ago. I found some funny stuff. Primarily attributable to Scott Morris and Cyndi Forman (or exchanges among the three of us) -- gosh, we had a blast! Back in the day. I also found deal memos from NBC detailing some of my first song placements on the TV show Providence. What a fun deal that was -- especially when they began to use one of the songs on all their season finale promo spots. Very emotional! (That song, by the way, is one of the best of all time called "Let The Sun Fall Down" by Kim Richey). Okay, back to funny emails. I found this one between me and a girl who worked at Mercury Records: Me: "Hey, there, Georgie girl. Are we will still gonna get lunch today? How pathetic is it that the cereal bowl just left my lips, and I'm craving lunch already? Pretty pathetic, let me tell you. Where do you want to go and at what time? I will pretty much eat anything, especially today, since I am at the height of PMS (more than you wanted or needed to know, I'm sure). Let me re-cap the weekend for you: Friday night: do nothing. Go for margaritas with friends. Order steak. With trimmings. Consume rapidly. Saturday: Have protein shake for breakfast (steak in a glass). Lay on bed majority of day, talking on phone and watching "Real World" re-runs (more addictive than crack cocaine). Go to grocery store. Buy chicken, beef ribs, and other unidentifiable meat product. Get excited about eating. Stop at grocery store pay phone to call friends to invite over for binge-fest. Get invited to their house instead. Pay. Decide to satisfy craving for grape slush and corn dog (with mustard) at Sonic Drive-In (not on my way home). Go to friend's house. More margaritas, but not too many. Eat pork chops (equivalent to body weight) and baked potatoes and chips of all varieties. Fall asleep. Then go home. Sunday: Wake up late. Go to church with friend. Stop for bagel and cream cheese (lite or regular? 'regular please') and a double iced mocha (also somewhat like crack cocaine). Come home. Make tacos for 12. Eat 6. Lay around. Fall asleep. Contemplate going to movies. Go to Phonoluxe instead. Spend .35 cents more than if had gone to movies. Come home. Invite friend over to watch Varsity Blues on pay-per-view. Crave pancakes (or waffles). Go to store. Buy Hungry Jack pancake/waffle mix. Friend arrives with bacon. Cook all in package and make 4 pancakes each. Drench in butter and syrup. Disgust self. (More than movie disgusts self). Eat only 1/3 of pancake supper but all of bacon. Since it had touched the warm syrup and had become delicacy item in process. Talk on phone. Lay on bed. Go to sleep. Monday: Raisin bran with 1% milk in hopes of undoing damage of weekend. Remember having lunch plans. Begin thinking about food all over again. So, where do you want to go? I'm starving!?!?!!" END OF EMAIL (1999) Maybe that is why I weighed 200 pounds when I left Nashville. Ya think?

Purge to Merge

I just learned a tragic lesson about this program. It does not autosave your words. And i sassily thought I was goign to upload an image into this entry, and in my haste, I forgot to push "save, and all was lost. Of course, I do not have the will to re-create it all in this moment. Suffice it to say that I was telling you this whole big story about going through all my stuff and trying to decide what to keep and what to give away and what to kick to the curb. To make a long story less long. Now, I want a nap. I will not get a nap. Because my bed is covered in junk. Which probably means I could save myself some time by simply choosing to chunk it all in the trash, lest I end up like that crazy lady on Oprah who had 10,000 square feet of crap in her 3,000 square foot home, and her kids quit visiting her, and she really thought that one day, she was going to use the 3,000 purses or handbags. She gives me high self-esteem.

Keeping Up With The Madness

I just added some of you to the "notifications" part of this blog so that you will be notified when there is a new blog entry. I did this because I just got in big trouble with my aunt because she has been waiting for three days for a written update here. So what did I do? I wrote two, now three! And I added her to my notifications so that she will get an email any time that I add a new one. So there. Anyhoo, if you did not get a notification about this entry in your inbox, you can send me an email, and I will add your name to the list. If you did get a notification and would rather not, please do the same, and I will remove you. It won't mean that I think you don't love me anymore. It will just mean that you are web-savvy enough to subscribe to the blog (which you can do here by clicking on "Subscribe to this blog's feed [What is this?]" or that your inbox is lunatic enough, and you do not need one more thing in it. No problem either way. Guess what? I still have not gone to clean out that closet. Or picked out my movie. Or refilled my coffee cup. Surprise.

Networking

There are people in no less than three countries right now working on helping us to put together our dream wedding. "Dream" in this case does not have anything to do with "Expensive," thank goodness, due to the generosity and kindness of many, many friends and business associates. People always marvel when I tell them stories of knowing or having met people in or from countries all over the world. And I just want to make them understand that it's not that difficult. It requires stepping outside of your comfort zone, for sure. And it requires having something interesting to talk about or at least wonder about -- but it's not that difficult. What you will discover is that we have countless things in common with people all over the world. And you also will discover that it makes life a little bit easier on you. You begin to ask questions and do some research and information and bewilderment just comes tumbling forth. My friend David called me last night to find out if he could take a brand new gas-powered generator to Eastern Europe on a mission trip to do some construction work with his church. His primary concern was getting it back onto the plane to return home because after having been there, it will have fuel residue in its system. Why call me? Because he knows I will find out. And I will find out as quickly as possible. I hung up the phone and called my sister, who is an internal consultant for a major airline. She told me he could not even take it over there new because during manufacturing, the companies run fuel through the never-used machines to confirm that they pass quality control. Not coincidentally (I don't believe in coincidence. Or luck, for that matter), she had just completed Hazardous Materials training the DAY BEFORE! So I called David back, broke the news, and I (and he, too, I'm sure) began to brainstorm other solutions. So when I woke up at 5:00 am today (involvuntarily, mind you -- it's a Saturday), it was the first thing on my mind. So I began to research alternatives. And I learned that CAT is a huge business all over Europe, and they have stores and rental facilities and manufacturers as well. So i emailed them to see what solutions they might be able to offer so that the missions team can have the power they need to run their high-energy electrical construction tools while there. I just love that stuff! Anyway, all of that to say that there are ways and means to do the things that you want to do -- you just have to be imaginative. You have to learn to think divergently. You have to learn to troubleshoot your idea BEFORE you execute it. You have to think of everything that could go wrong. I used to think this was being pessimistic or overly critical. It is absolutely not. It is being realistic and sensible. It does not make being told "no" any easier. But it makes it more understandable. Try it, you'll like it! The bottom line is: just ask. They can only tell you "no." And the might be so impressed by your boldness that they just say "yes."

Progress

There has been movement. The City of Marshall, according to the grapevine, which is currently twisting all over the United States and Southeastern China, has granted us permission to do our reception on the east side of Peter Whetstone Square in the shadow of the Historic Harrison County Courthouse. We do not know yet what will be involved with permits and rules and regulations and such, but we are hopeful that none of it will be cost-prohibitive. This part I am very excited about because that town square has been the hub of my life since I was a small child. My mom has worked for the county for forty-two years, and I figure I have been going there ALL of my life since I have been going there since I was conceived! When I was in elementary school, if I got sick, and my Aunt Bucky was not available to care for me (she was our one "city" relative), I had to go to Mom's office to sleep in the toilet on that mega-fun bright orange naugahyde settee. Which is still there, by the way. Holding up like a champ. Why? Because it is supernatural. And everlasting. Maybe I should invite it to my wedding. Or, better yet, I know! I will take a bridal portrait lounging on it, perhaps with someone standing alongside fanning me with a palm branch and feeding me grapes. I can see it now! Today, I was going to fly down to Austin to shop for little girl dresses with my cousin's wife, Dana (whom I love), but I decided to be efficient and use the day to purge more things from my life. Things that do not need to make the trip 'cross town to Chris' house. Priority one? In which room should I begin? Considerations? Where is there a TV. I never get to watch TV, so this seems like a perfect opportunity to delete things from my dish network DVR, skipping commercials, listening for interesting stories on Oprah. I even think I have some movies recorded there that I have never seen. I could, though, fall back on my favorite packing-and-moving-standbys: When Harry Met Sally or anything with Kevin Costner (pre-Waterworld). You know, like Field Of Dreams or Bull Durham or A Perfect World. Any of those allow me to devote 80% of my ever-wandering attention to the purge and only 20% to the film because I have seen it so many times. I could probably do a one-woman show of When Harry Met Sally. Except for I could not in good conscience exclude Jeff McMahon or my sister Karyn, to whom it means just as much as to me. Rambling. Please note, for your files, that I have picked a room and set up the TV, but the satellite is not working in that room for some reason. Nuisance. Chris did leave his little DVD player over here, though, so I could do the movie thing in there. You know what I need for a wedding present? That groovy United Artists Studios 110 DVD set of some of their best films, released to celebrate their 90th anniversary. Check it out! http://www.unitedartists90.com/. Seriously cool. And compact. Which is my new favorite thing. I will go in there, in a minute, and open the drawer of that filing cabinet that has been closed since I moved into this house, with a few notable exceptions (one when I was looking for a box of checks, which, in the age of the electronic funds transfer lasts me 3 years; and another when I was trying to find one particular funny greeting card someone gave me, circa 1997. Yes, I keep your cards). And I wll begin reminiscing and wondering what ever happened to so-and-so. Thankfully, there will not be too much of that because I have kept up with most of you pretty well. Because I like you. Then, I will refill my coffee cup and go back to that room and sit on the bed again, restart the movie and begin to sort through the boxes in that closet. And I will be forced to make some decisions. Keep that unopened box of really cute notecards or donate it to someone who might make use of it and not just preserve it in its original packaging. And which will make me feel better? Hoarding it for myself? Or sharing it with someone else who might not have taken the time and energy to seek it out in the first place? Today, I feel generous. I don't want to take all my "stuff" with me. I want this to be like the time I left Nashville, in October 2001. When I took with me all that would fit in a 1997 Honda Civic and a few UPS boxes. No boats. No lights. No motor cars. Well, except for the 1997 Honda Civic, of course. I must get to it. First, I have to choose the film-track. Then refill the coffee cup. Then take the box of Hefty Cinch-Sacks. And it will begin. My new life.

Wedding "Industry"

Chris is right. At the first mention of a "wedding," the price goes up 200%. When it's just a "party," there is room to negotiate. We are currently trying to decide if we want to do the reception in a separate site other than the church. There are legitimate concerns that we might actually be blessed with a warm, Spring day on the first day of Spring when the full moon should be rising, and we will be stuck inside. So, I am researching tent, tables, and chairs rental, which shoots the price of doing things up but will ultimately be a much groovier party. My practical side, the one that tends to rule when I am "project manager," shrinks back in horror. But my creative, romantic side is all aflutter. Chris figured out that we can get it done if only we can find a way to save $18.75 each day between us until the date of the wedding. Clever, huh? Yesterday, he gave up drinking his usual several Diet Dr. Peppers and figures he's saved $6 already. I asked him what was I to do when I was already skating dangerously close to very little in my bank account this month, and he said, "That's when you ask me to save for your part, too!" Sweet, huh? I am very blessed that he thinks that way and that having a great wedding and a great party is just as important to him as it is to me. Blessed indeed. I am finding it difficult to concentrate on much these days -- I could use another week of vacation. Julie made me smile yesterday when she pointed out that there are a series of four-day-weeks coming up. Perhaps those will substitute nicely for an extra week of vacation. I have to decide if I am going to take some days off after the wedding. I bet it would be the sensible thing to do. It would give me time to move out of my house correctly and to really make sure I do it right. And that I move INTO Chris' house in a nice, orderly fashion. Garbage in, garbage out. I must take only the bare minimum with me. I have no idea what it will be like to merge households and lives. Well, I have some idea, but everyone says it is quite an adjustment. I am so not looking forward to the mega-commute between Dallas and Mesquite. But I love my job and the people for whom and with whom I work, and I figure it's worth the drive to spend the bulk of my waking hours with people I enjoy. I believe that even if you live next door to your job but dislike going, it is not worth the gas you save. So, back to the wedding "industry." It's ridiculous. I know what all these things cost to make in China, and the markup here is just criminal. I'm not saying that I believe that every factory in which these things are made is filled with people who are earning what they deserve, but good grief! If a shop can afford to "discount" a dress from $3500 to $990, the markup has got to be completely out of hand. (And no, I would not consider paying even a fraction of either of those figures for something I would wear one time -- unless Oprah was paying for it, of course!). It's 6:41, and I should officially be in the shower, but the coffee is still hot, and it's winter again outside, so the world will just have to wait for me. And forgive that my hair will not be all that organized today when i get to work. I think I should be allowed to wear blue jeans on any day that starts out at less than 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Now it is 6:49, and I REALLY should be in the shower. But I've used my time wisely. I know exactly what I am going to wear today, and I know where all the components of that outfit are. Except for warm socks. Or socks, period. They seem to have all disappeared into the ether. Another of life's great mysteries.

Things You Need To Know About The Proposal

Some people have been asking about all the phases of the proposal, so I thought I would provide a "guide" here in the blog so you know what was going on in all those gifts Chris gave me. So, here we go. 1st gift was a black bag of COAL. "For all the Christmases before this one that I was hiding" from Chris. That's why I deserved coal. 2nd gift was a female artist's mannequin to match the male one he gave me last year for Christmas right after we met. 3rd gift was 2 children artists's mannequins to match the woman and the man. 4th gift was a set of tins (peace, hope and joy) that contained various gift cards, moist towelettes from Friday's (like the kind you get when you eat messy ribs), 20 cool colored markers, and an AMC theater gift card. 5th gift was a package of calligraphy pens and a handmade card that said, "If I were to get you a diamond ring, would you marry me the first day of spring?" Check "Yes" or "No" 6th gift was a framed photo of one of his students who had used Photoshop to dress himself up as a coal miner. Inside this gift, there was a card with another handmade card with this web site address on it and the explanation of some symbols. Chris had given me a jeweler's loupe for my birthday a few weeks before that he had told me to carry with me everywhere in case we decided to go look at nice jewelry. I forgot it. So he gave me his and told me to start looking at the coal. So, piece by piece, I began to examine the coal with the loupe, and I finally found a piece that was slightly discolored. And I bammed it on the table. Then he took it from me, pried it open and took out my engagement ring, which he had partially designed himself and had made by a jeweler in Dallas. It's a beauty! He had asked the art/wood shop teacher at his school to hand make the coal pieces. The teacher, David, cut some wood, filed it down to make it look like real coal, then used a router and a lathe to hollow out one piece and cut it so that the two pieces would fit together like a ring box. And inside was . . . you just have to watch the movie to find out! It was absolutely amazing and so romantic. And we were with my family, which was one of the best parts! He filmed the entire thing, and you can view it on the main web site page by clicking on "Original page with videos." If you have a Mac, you have to have a little add-on program called "Flip4Mac" to view it because it's a Windows Media file. I believe you can download that for free at www.apple.com. It takes a while to download, but it's pretty fun! Happy New Year.

Lift-off!

Today, I got myself a beautiful new wedding dress! I'd tell you all about it, but then I could not surprise Chris with it! Suffice to say that I made a heckuva deal (in true Christi Wright fashion), I absolutely LOVE it, and I might just wear it to both the wedding AND the Dallas party! More later. We are about to take engagement portraits! Right here in Chris' living room. Ahhhh. We are truly one-stop-shopping!

Wigging Out

I'm not really wigging out, but yesterday, mid-day, when I was about to set out on the search for a wedding dress alone, I got out to my car, thought, "No freakin' way," and went back inside to grab my toiletries, two shirts and a pair of wrinkled jeans from a forgotten clothes basket, threw them in a bag and drove to Marshall. I needed to be somewhere of comfort. The cool thing was that I got here just in time to help m Mom write a press release announcing that she is withdrawing her name from the 2008 election ballot, and at the end of 2008, she is going to resign as Tax Assessor Collector of Harrison County. Then I went with her to the Democratic Party Chairman's office to make the announcement. It was pretty cool! She's worked for the county for 42 years! I was in her belly when she was working there back in the sixties. That's pretty cool, huh? Anyway, she seems really relieved and at peace with her decision, and that's the secret of life! Today, she went to work early to get some important stuff done, and later, we are going on the road to girlihood to look for wedding dresses, do some local gift registry stuff and just see what happens. I am in a local coffee shop having a mocha and being connected to the world at large via the World Wide Web. It's 23 degrees here, and it feels like about 2. Gonna go now. Stay tuned.

Decision making

Is officially not my strong suit. More and more, I understand the concept that I use with children which is called "controlled choice." I give them two choices, both of which are perfectly fine with me, they choose one (which makes them feel like they are in control), and we are all happy. Looking at 1,000 wedding gowns, 250 cake designs, 15 wedding locations, and zero invitation designs is totally blowing my mind. Which is why I am lying on my bed, in my pajamas, surrounded by pages ripped out of magazines, my breakfast dish (which, incidentially was a delightful chicken dish from Carraba's left over from New Year's Eve), my cell phone, my camera, and some dirty socks. My feet got hot. I am compiling a list of pleasant places you might consider staying if you want to spend the night or hang out in East Texas/Western Louisiana for a few days. It will be posted shortly on the web site. I think I might need to drive to Marshall AGAIN this week before school gets going again. That just sounds awful to me. I wish someone would come and pick me up and take me there. I could take the train, but then I would not have wheels once I got there. Un-fun.

Dream and Reality

I think it's important to share with you both sides of this adventure. Hope that is okay! I just got home from the movies because I thought that a dark theater might be a safe haven from all of the million thoughts that I have about all the things I need to be deciding in planning our wedding. It was a good idea. Of course, the first song in the film was sung by a guy who was going on and on about how much he wanted this girl to be his bride, so I found myself all wrapped up in that for the moment. In fact, I jotted it down, and you just might hear it during our ceremony! It was a wacky one, which, I am sure, is why I liked it. I will have to live with it before making any final cut. Back to the topic at hand. Last night, I was searching for things on the Internet, and I was not finding what I was searching for, and all of a sudden, I realized that I am really getting married. Duh, right? No, seriously, I was just hit with this rush of "wow." I woke up fairly early today, considering I had no reason to, and I started getting all overwhelmed again. So I made coffee. And ate Shredded Wheat. And took some ADHD medication. Good combination. I felt a little better. Then I started freaking out. Nothing visible, you see, but I caught my sister online, and I shared that with her. That went on for a while, and I began to feel better, simply for having someone to communicate with about the stuff. Then, on my sister's advice (she's the maid of honor -- MOH), I looked on www.theknot.com to enter my wedding date so their brilliant wedding planning software could generate a list of things for me to check off given that specific time frame. Guess what? On the list it generated for little ol' me, there were gargantuan purple exclamation points to the left of each check box. Why? Because apparently the decisions I am working on making are generally made TWELVE MONTHS IN ADVANCE! Frankly, I do not know why anyone would PLAN to occupy twelve months of their lives with making a plan for anything, certainly not something they were very excited about starting in the first place, like a marriage. I rather enjoy the last-minute rush, hence the March wedding date! When I woke up this morning and wanted to go look at wedding dresses, I realized that I have not had time or made time to make enough soul-sister-girlfriends since moving here 2.5 years ago. I kind of hit the ground running. And everyone is so buy when they get all grown up. I realized how blessed I have been to have made the friends (male and female) that I have made over the course of my lifetime thus far. Chris and I had lunch with a long-time friend today, Jeff McMahon, who is like a brother to me and who I have known since 1989 (yipes). Crazy. It was fun to finally introduce them to each other. Back to wedding dresses. So, I spent the early morning hours sifting through pictures and ideas and printed some photos and style information to take with me to this boutique in Dallas. I checked their web site for business hours, was thrilled to find that they opened at 9:30 am on Sundays, and I packed the car and headed over there, ready to walk in armed and dangerous with my first five selections, ready to avert the hard-sell. Closed. The sign on the door said to pull the door hard. Still closed. And my dress was IN THE WINDOW. I swear. It looks exactly like what I am thinking of wearing. Beyond the glass. I shall try again tomorrow. And it better still be there! After that mishap, all I could think to do was go to the movies. Perfect escape. So I went down the road to the theater, and the only movie available at that hour was going to last 2 hours and 15 minutes, which would have dug into the time I was going to meet Chris and Jeff. Abort. Then I went to Starbuck's with one of my four gift cards, plugged in the laptop, ratcheted up some Dvorak in iTunes and began crossing things off the list. Karyn was right. It did make me feel better. Of course, what I was crossing off were not things I have already accomplished. They were simply things I am not even going to attempt! Nevertheless, they are marked off, and for a girl like me, that says "success!" I am fairly certain I have decided on some colors. And I am 100% certain that I made up new names for each of them: pomegranate, melon and tangerine. A fruity, springy wedding. Sounds fresh, doesn't it? I think ordinarily, I might have chosen something more muted, mature, demure. But heck, it's going to be the first day of spring, and I think we should be festive. Tropical. Tangy. Slushy. Hmmm. Can you serve slushies at your wedding? Perhaps we shall.

"Don't Let The Wedding Ruin The Romance"

Once said a wise man. Named Chris. We talked about this concept shortly after getting engaged. I had told him that I have a tendency to spin out of balance at times (as if he hadn't noticed), and I requested that he feel free to offer me reality checks from time to time during this planning process. I will, after all, be working a full-time teaching job, attending graduate school classes two nights a week in Dallas, and planning a wedding for the first (and only) time in my life. That has "anti-anxiety" medication written all over it. But I do not want to get to that point. I told him last night, in fact, that I thought we should designate a specified amount of time when we are together to discussing wedding plans/details so that it does not become the all-consuming topic of our lives until March 20th has come and gone. He thought that might be a good idea. We went to hear/see the Trans Siberian Orchestra last night at the American Airlines Center, and while we were waiting for the show to begin, I said, "Okay. I need 10 minutes of wedding conversation." He laughed and granted me the time. So far, we are doing well. After the show, we tried to go visit the "Wall of Cheese" at Central Market. We like to go there every couple of months and pick out some heretofore-untasted cheeses from around the world, a new bottle of wine, some prosciutto, nice olives, and some bread or crackers to have a gourmet picnic. Central Market, however, was closed down, and we were forced across the street to the Tom Thumb. They had a "kiosk island" of cheese that was pretty much underwhelming, but their wine selection was better than average. So, we had some brie, mozzarella cheese sticks, prosciutto, Shiraz and dark chocolate to finish it off. And we headed back to Chris' house to view the work he had done all day yesterday on our web site. He had discovered some blogging tools that he could embed in the website, so he wanted me to choose which one I liked best. Clearly, "Movable Type" has won my favor. I am going to try and write here at least weekly until the wedding; however, I figure it will be my primary narrative therapy, so you might check in more than weekly to see what's shakin'. I need to tell this funny story of our second trip to Marshall this past week. I went alone on Saturday December 22nd, and Chris came down on Christmas Eve. Every time we go to Marshall together, he always likes to stop in Wills Point at the Robertson's because they have the best beef jerky, AND they sell it by the pound. So, he had stopped there on his way Christmas Eve but had consumed the entire stock. So, when we were going back together on December 26th, he needed another fix. I needed fuel and a ham sandwich, so we pulled off I-20 at Exit #516. Which has now become a hilarious engagement memory. The sweet ladies behind the counter were the first strangers with whom I had come in contact since Chris proposed, and while I was paying for the gas (which I pumped on an old-fashioned analog pump which only calculates your total in 1/2 gallons -- to this quirk I attribute the fact that I overran the tank and dumped probably a half-gallon of gas on the ground!), I blurted out, "We're getting married!" The women all smiled and said, "Well, congratulations, let's see your ring!" Anyhow, then we began to talk about the world's coolest proposal, and they were all "ooh" and "aah," and this tall, older gentleman behind the counter says in a big, gruff voice, "It's fellas like YOU that make it real hard on the rest of us!" How funny is that? He was Papaw. Thank goodness for Papaw, though, because traffic was at a standstill on I-20 East, and he helped us to navigate the way-back roads to get back on I-20 past the horrible vehicle accident that was holding things up. And we think we saw his house back there. How do we know. 'Cause it said "Mamaw & Papaw's" right there in front! I love it. I miss life in the country sometimes.

Goin' To The Chapel

And we're gonna get ma-a-a-rried. How many times did I sit and listen to that song on my Dad's Bette Midler albums when I was a little girl? So very many. More than either he or I would like to recall. Not to mention that I have now officially shared with the world that my Dad even HAD Bette Midler albums. Well, now that that is out there, I should go ahead and tell you that he decorates cakes AND he cries at a good chick flick. But he's not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that (thank you, Seinfeld). Back to the topic at hand. I'm getting married. To Chris. On March 20, 2008. A Thursday. I don't care if you think it's weird. It's the first day of spring. And we are going to have a big time. I'm glad you are going to be able to be there. Wherever "there" is, that is. Seriously. Less than three months from now, and I have made absolutely zero decisions. Well, except for who the groom shall be and where we shall say our vows. Past that, according to the plans at hand, I will be naked at the altar, with no attendants, and there will be no food or chairs to sit in to eat it. Sounds fun, huh? I have just driven Chris over the proverbial edge with my web site edit suggestions.

The Big Four Oh

Well, it happened. I turned forty. And nothing stopped working. Nothing fell off. I was not consumed by the earth. On the contrary, it was a pretty great experience. It was a work day (Friday), so I did that. Then we had our school holiday party afterward. Later that night, Chris took me to dinner at Carraba's in Rockwall (and gave me some super fun gifts). On Saturday, my brother had invited us over for beer and burgers, so we went there. And you know what? All those people (plus a few others -- Doug and Melissa had to leave early) you see in that picture up there had shown up to surprise me! How incredible is that? That during the busiest, most stressful time of the year for many, these people whom I love and care for so much made time in their busy schedules to drive (and fly) to little ol' Mesquite, Texas, to tell me "happy birthday" in person! Let me tell you who they are and from whence they came: top row (L to R) is: my Uncle Sid (140 miles), my Dad (140 miles), my brother Jason (we're at his house), his father-in-law George (Mesquite), my boyfriend-in-law George (600 miles from Nashville, TN), Heather's boyfriend Doug (Dallas), me, and Chris. bottom row (L to R) is: Teresa (140 miles), Jeorgia (her own planet), my aunt Tommie (140 miles), my sister-in-law Jodi (her house), my niece Chelsey (Mesquite), my sister Karyn (600 miles from Nashville, TN), my cousin Heather (Keller, TX), and my mom Betty (140 miles). Chris' brother Doug and sister-in-law Melissa were also there and drove an hour from Colleyville on a night where they were scheduled to be in three different places for three separate events. Okay, I just calculated, and it appears that (with a small margin of error) people traveled approximately 4,160 total miles to celebrate my birthday with me! How awesome is THAT? Anyway, apparently, my little brother orchestrated all of that, and it was so fun! They brought me cards and fun presents, and we ate food and talked and laughed (well, mainly we laughed at Jeorgia, but she's worth it)! I was thinking on Friday, when my bilingual co-workers were throwing me their own little fiesta, that I am truly one of the most blessed people I know. I have chosen to surround myself with great people who have passion and character and love overflowing. The new third grade bilingual teacher at my school gave me a card in which he wrote, "Thank you, Christi, for giving me a good example of living a life with meaning." I tell you, the whole day could have stopped right there. If there is anything that I would hope to have shared with the world before it's my time to go, that would certainly be near the top of the list. My life has meaning not because of anything I've done or read. It has meaning because of the choices I have made and continue making. Sometimes, they are helpful, sometimes they are not. I have chosen to place my faith in Christ alone for eternal life, and my meaning and my being flows from there. I cannot say I always "represent" all that well, but thankfully, mine is a God of grace, and I do try to choose well! Anyway, back to being 40. I love it. I walked around all day saying, "I'm in my forties now, so . . . " and then would fill in the blank with whatever the heck I wanted to do! I have to say that I like saying "I'm in my forties" a heck of a lot more than "I'm going to be 40 this year" which I began saying at approximately 12:01 am January 1, 2007! I told Chris last night that rather than feeling sad or with a sense of dread, what I have felt all weekend has been a sense of contentment. I've been pretty emotional, but in a positive way. When I have allowed myself to sit still and really reflect, I am rendered completely breathless by the knowledge that every one of the friends and family who wished me well on that big day is a real-life example of love and kindness. Thank you for making a big day a beautiful day. Happy holidays to you all!