Chemically speaking, chocolate really is the world’s perfect food.
– Michael Levine, nutrition researcher, quoted in The Emperors of Chocolate: Inside the Secret World of Hershey and Mars
1. Pink and orange M&Ms for wedding favors! (But not personalized, because, Jesus Christ, have you seen how much those things cost?)
2. the drop in temperature today – it was 66 degrees when I left my office at 5:30 – yay, Fall!
3. Carcassonne, our new favorite board game
Filed under Happiness, Three Things
How extraordinary, I thought, that someone could touch you and make you into something.
– from The Dive from Claussen’s Pier, by Ann Packer
Filed under Photos, Wordless Wednesday
Through all the notes that sound within the earth’s resplendent dream, one whispered note alone sounds for the secret listener.
– Friedrich Schlegel
I walked into the choir room of the local high school tonight and nearly cried. It was so like the choir room of my own high school, 100 miles and 18 years away. The staffed blackboard is now a staffed white board, but the risers, the competition trophies, the hastily scrawled try-out info, the grand piano — they’re all the same. Girls in matching formal dresses and boys in tuxedos with matching cumberbunds and bow ties smile out from pictures taken at competitions, and in an instant, I’m 15 again at JMU or 16 again at DisneyWorld, taking on the world with my high school choir cohorts.
The tears were also a product of fear and anxiety. Tonight was the first night of the new county community chorus I’d signed up to take part in, and having not sung in an organized group since before I lost my hearing, I felt no small measure of trepidation. What if, after all this time, after all this longing to sing in public again, to be a part of a group, I just couldn’t do it? I didn’t know if I could. I knew I could sing by myself, and even to music, but I had no idea if I could sing as part of a larger group.
It turns out, really, that I can’t. After introductions and the business aspects of a first meeting of any group, the director organized us by part – sopranos on the left, tenors and basses in the middle, and altos on the right. Somehow I ended up in the worst possible spot – in the back row of altos with no one to my right (there were several empty seats between me and where the sopranos began) and no one behind me. I didn’t say anything. I had imagined in my head keeping my hearing impairment a secret until some perfect moment when it would be revealed and everyone would be stunned that I was so fantastic in spite of it. So I tried. I forged ahead.
The director asked us to sing My Country ‘Tis of Thee. How long have you known that song? Your whole life, right? You can sing it in your sleep, probably. So can I. Alone. But in this group of 50 other people, with the sopranos on my right and the men in front and to my right, I had absolutely no clue what key we were in. I turned my head to try to hear my fellow altos, but no pitch I tried seemed to match what they were singing. Three times we did the song, and three times I sang in fits and starts, trying to find my way, and three times I ended the song mouthing the words and fighting back tears. At the break, I texted David, “This is some kind of disaster.”
I went to the director at the break and explained, through tears, my situation. I told her I didn’t want to quit, that it was so important to me to be a part of this, to try to get this piece of my life back. She was very sweet and understanding and moved me to the front row for the last part of rehearsal. Unfortunately, that didn’t help. When we started on the music we will be singing this “semester” to perform in November, I was totally lost. When we did the song by parts, sopranos, then altos, then tenors, then basses, I was ok – mostly – but when we put it all together I was completely floundering. I tried so, so hard, but I just couldn’t pick my part out of all the noise. And that’s all it was, too, noise. And it breaks my heart.
I’m not done trying. I’ll just have to work harder than the others. But I can’t say that I don’t long for the days when all of this just came easy to me. Being in that room transported me back to the scene of so much success for me musically, and finding the present day experience so difficult is just a lot to take in.
Filed under Hearing Loss, Music
Smooth ice is paradise for those who dance with expertise.
– Friedrich Nietzsche
Driving home from an appointment this evening, I had the XM radio in David’s car tuned to the 90s station. After some Goo Goo Dolls, a little Soup Dragons, some Sophie B., what should I hear but . . .
Yeah. That’s Vanilla Ice. This song was released in 1990; I was 13.
At 13, I was dying to fit in. A lot of people I knew at school, who were already into classic rock, hated this song. I clearly remember repeating one of their derisive comments when this song came up in front someone I was trying to impress: “Oh, all he did was rip off Under Pressure,” I said, trying to sound worldly. As if I gave a fuck about Queen at 13. In truth, I loved this song. I taped it off the radio and spent afternoons in my bedroom with the door closed, playing it over and over, even choreographing a dance routine that I imagined presenting in the talent show at 4-H camp that summer. It should go without saying that I was not cool at 13.
Ice hockey is a form of disorderly conduct in which the score is kept.
– Doug Larson
Things are going to be a little Tumblr-like around here for a bit, I think. I need to ease back into this blogging thing, but I don’t want to put too much pressure on myself to write long, meaningful, elaborate posts all the time. So here’s something short, irrelevant, and basic to get us started – three random things about my life right now:
1. We moved at the end of February into a much nicer apartment in an area of NoVa that is way closer to the Metro, which has more than cut our commutes in half (no bus = no waiting endlessly). Also, the management people don’t suck here, so that is a super bonus.
2. I ordered my wedding dress last month. It arrives between July 30 and August 15. So . . . that means I should probably get my ass in gear to get some of this weight off. Or at least get my back and arms toned up, since I already look skinnier in the dress than I am and could be comfortable getting married in it at this weight if it weren’t for my back and arms. But, as usual, laziness takes over. Now that my boot is off, I’m allowed to ride my bike, which is awesome, and I can swim once the pool opens, but I’ve been banned from the treadmill and elliptical for now. And weights, of course, are good to go. So let’s see how that goes.
3. The Red Wings are playing right now. They are down three games to none to San Jose in the second round of the playoffs. If they lose, their season is over. I really, really need them to win, or David is going to be miserable all weekend.
The further off from England, the nearer is to France
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
– from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll
1. Antibes, France:
I wanted to show you more pictures, but either WordPress hates me or I’m too dumb to blog. Sorry.
2. Pinterest! This my new obsession – it’s basically a super easy way to bookmark all those little things you see online that you love, but never remember when you want them, but without having to bookmark a million different websites. Check it out – and if you get an account, let me know so I can follow you. You can follow me, too, if you want – I’m melaniew (at least, I think I am!)
3. This face:
Football is all very well as a game for rough girls, but is hardly suitable for delicate boys.
– Oscar Wilde
Filed under Photos, Wordless Wednesday
Unless you plan to elope secretly in the dark of night, or have planned a small intimate wedding, you may soon find your wedding plans escalating out of control. This one-sentence wedding mantra may be helpful. Recite it to yourselves in those moments when everyone about you seems to be going crazy with the planning details: The point of the wedding is to celebrate our love and make a public commitment to each other for life. Everything else is extra.
– from Wonderful Marriage, by Lilo and Gerard Leeds
This is long, self-involved, and wedding-related. You’ve been warned.
As most of you know, David and I got engaged just before Christmas. Individually, before we got engaged, both of my parents told me individually that they would pay for our wedding. Once we got engaged, the battles started almost immediately between my mother and me.
She is, to put it mildly, pretty old-fashioned when it comes to weddings and other kinds of events. Or, more accurately, she has a distinct idea of what is “appropriate” and what is not. Our first trip to my parents after our engagement, my mother said to us, “I think this should be a collaborative event. I think we [meaning her, my dad, David, and me] need to collectively figure out what kind of wedding we want and go from there.” My dad said, “Um, I think Melanie and David need to figure out what kind of wedding they want, and then we can go from there.” My mother was not deterred.
In January, David and I sent my parents a guest list with 181 people on it. This included all of David’s family, all of my family that I know and am close to (my mom’s side is huge, and I included my grandparents, my 5 aunts and uncles (plus their spouses), and all of my cousins and their families – a total of 22 people), David’s and my friends, and some family friends that I am close to. I knew my parents would want to add some people that I had forgotten or overlooked, and David and I thought we’d end up with a list somewhere in the neighborhood of 200.
Late in January, David and I went up to my parents for the weekend to look at venues. We saw a ceremony venue and a reception location that we really liked, but we didn’t make any decisions. When we got back to my parents house, we started talking about the guest list. My mom gave me a list of people to add, and then as we were discussing it, more and more people were added. In the end, the guest list ballooned to 265 people. She added people I have never met, and cousins of hers whose married last names she can’t even remember. David and I protested, but she said, “It’s important to them [the cousins] to stay close to their family.” Well, if it’s so effing important, why have I not seen them since I was 6, and why don’t you know their names?
Anyway, David and I were up for hours that night, talking about how much this was not what we wanted. He does not like to be the center of attention; if he had his way, we’d elope, but he knows I really want a wedding. He was very, very upset, and I felt like things were completely out of control.
The next morning, I went downstairs to talk to my parents by myself (David knew). I felt like I had to talk to them as their daughter, you know? I said, “You keep saying we need to figure out what we want, but I feel like we keep telling you what we want, but you’re not listening.” My mom asked what the difference was between being the center of attention of 180 people versus 265. I said, “David has literally met everyone on the 180-person list. It’s a big difference.” Then she said, in response to my complaints that she added people we have never met, “I haven’t looked closely at the list you and David sent, but I’m sure there are friends of yours on there that your father and I have never met.” I said, “Yes, but it’s OUR wedding.” She said, and I’m not kidding, “Stop saying that.”
She finally left the room and I said to my dad, “Would you be hurt if we just paid for the wedding ourselves?” He said, “It’s not about the money.” I said, “I know, but if we pay for it ourselves, we can have the wedding we want.” He said, “Why don’t you plan the wedding you want and we will still pay for it?” I said, “Obviously we can’t do that – she is not letting that happen.” We were so frustrated. We left it at my parents agreeing to look at the guest list and try to make cuts.
The following Tuesday, I called my mom and told her that David and I had settled on the ceremony and reception locations we wanted and asked her to take care of booking them and paying the deposit. She agreed. When I called later in the week to follow up, she told me she had booked the date with the ceremony location and had contacted the reception venue and they would hold the date for us, “and if anyone else wants that date they will call us before they give the date away.” I said, “Why don’t you just pay the lady her money so she doesn’t give our date away?” She said, “They’re holding the date for us, don’t worry, I just want to look at some other places.” I explained to her that that was not what we agreed on the phone on Tuesday and that I felt she was trying to do an end around what David and I chose because she’s not 100% satisfied with the reception location. She insisted everything would be fine. To this day, she has still not signed a contract with the venue, and she still has not looked at any other places.
I went shopping with my bridesmaids a few weekends ago and they found two dresses they really loved that looked good on all of them (strapless). I sent the links to my mom to ask her thoughts; she said she liked one more than the other, and I agreed. I thought we were golden. Later, she said, “I want you to ask them to have straps added to the dresses, at least for the ceremony. I don’t think strapless is appropriate.” I told her I had no problem with the strapless dresses and that I was not comfortable asking my bridesmaids to have straps added to accomodate my mother. We still have not settled this, and I’m currently back to the drawing board on their dresses.
I bought shoes months ago that I want to wear with my dress. (If we’re FB friends, you’ve probably seen them; if not, here they are:
So hot, right? Our wedding colors are this color pink and dark orange, and I thought these shoes would be a fun way to add to that.) When I first showed the picture to my mom, she just rolled her eyes and said, “That’s not appropriate.” I let it go. This weekend, after we bought my dress (!), we were sitting in the bridal salon waiting for our contract and she said, “Melanie, you are NOT wearing those shoes.” I tried to find some common ground – “Would you be more amenable to my pink shoes if they were in a fabric other than suede?” “No. It’s not appropriate.” I dropped it. But I’m pissed. I’m 34 years old, I don’t need anyone’s permission to wear whatever shoes I want whenever I damn well want to, especially not on my wedding day.
David and I ordered save the date magnets shortly after my parents booked the ceremony location and our date was set. I told my mother we were going to do it. Since it’s, you know, OUR wedding, I put our return address on the envelopes we ordered. When I told my mom, she said, “These are the kind of things we need to talk about. I didn’t know you were going to order them.” I reminded her that I told her we were going to do it. She said, “Your father and I are hosting; if save the dates are sent, they should come from us.” I said, “You can send the invitations, but the save the dates are D and me asking the people we are closest to to save the date for OUR wedding.” She wasn’t budging. I offered an olive branch, saying I could order new envelopes for the save the dates with my parents return address on them, and David and I could use the ones we have for thank you notes or something. She just sighed and said, “I’ll think about it.” She also thinks save the dates are stupid. I explained that David really thinks that they’re neat, and it’s one of the few things he has an opinion on, so we’re sending them. She’s not happy. “No one on my side needs one.”
Finally, last week, I sent my parents an updated guest list that contained some cuts my mom gave me the week before. I explained that the list was down to 225, which was a good start, but that David and I wanted a list of approximately 180-190 people, and that we felt we’d already cut everyone we could. I asked my parents to look critically at the guest list and to please make some cuts. I have not seen a revised guest list.
If you’ve read all of this, I appreciate it. I am at the end of my patience with her. I keep reminding myself to choose my battles, but I feel like she is fighting me on everything. I know she wants to be a good hostess, but as someone said to me elsewhere when I was venting over this, if I were throwing my parents an anniversary party and I invited a ton of my friends that my parents didn’t know and tried to insist on all the things I like instead of focusing on what would make my parents happy, I would be a shitty hostess.
I know she wants to include people that are important to her, but is it too much to ask that I have at least met/seen these people in the last, say, 5 years? Can’t some of these people make do with wedding announcements after the fact? I hate the idea that people David and I do not know are going to get an invitation and feel obligated to send a gift even though they would never dream of coming to the wedding. It makes us very uncomforable, but no matter how many times we say that this is not what we want, she does not budge.
I don’t know what to do anymore, and I still have 6 months and a lot of planning left.
We can never have enough of nature. We must be refreshed by the sight of inexhaustible vigor, vast and titanic features, the sea-coast with its wrecks, the wilderness with its living and its decaying trees, the thunder-cloud, and the rain.
– Henry David Thoreau
See Part 1 here.
So sorry for the epic delay in posting this (big news – more later – and the holidays and laziness conspired). There will be at least one more part (which should not take me 20 more days to post), and then I’m calling it quits on the Reverb10 posts.
So. After we left Mount Saint Helens, we headed down into Oregon. We stopped for dinner in Astoria (but didn’t see where Goonies was filmed) and headed to our hotel. The next morning dawned gray and rainy. My first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean looked like this:
No matter. We braved the driving wind and rain to walk into the ocean and down to Haystack Rock:
On the way back to the car, I saw these gorgeous hydrangeas:
After we dried off and had breakfast, we headed down the coast. We stopped in Tillamook to tour the cheese factory (I was in heaven) and try some samples. Yum. We took our time driving, stopping whenever the we saw something we wanted to see better, like Devil’s Churn:
Eventually, the sun came back out, and it was a glorious day on the coast. This is Port Orford:
The place where we stopped to take this picture had this amazing mosaic-ed wall:
From there, we made our way to Arch Rock (I was continually amazed at how different the coast was from the parts of the East Coast with which I am familiar – what a wonderful country we live in!):
(not Arch Rock)
(Arch Rock)
We stopped for dinner just before heading into California, and we drove through the Redwoods on the way to our hotel in Eureka. That’s for Part 3 (among other things) – stay tuned!
Torture numbers and they’ll confess to anything.
– Gregg Easterbrook
The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how my blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:
The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Wow.
A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 7,900 times in 2010. That’s about 19 full 747s.
In 2010, there were 61 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 331 posts. There were 79 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 92mb. That’s about 2 pictures per week.
The busiest day of the year was April 29th with 58 views. The most popular post that day was Three Things Thursday #59 & #60.
The top referring sites in 2010 were dawnking.interspike.com [Ed. note: Thanks, Dawn!], varunkashyap.wordpress.com, Google Reader, piratecrackers.com, and twitter.com.
Some visitors came searching, mostly for peace, princess cake, peace on earth, princess castle cake, and hot baseball players. [Ed. note: that they "came searching for hot baseball players" makes me laugh - girls (and maybe boys) after my own heart!]
These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.
Three Things Thursday #59 & #60 April 2010
2 comments
My Best Girl June 2008
4 comments
The Password Is . . . May 2009
4 comments
Vegas in Four Parts: Part 3 February 2009
5 comments
Welcome to the World, baby Ben! January 2008
7 comments
