Thanks.Giving.

And we are OFF! The wedding weekend has begun and everyone's belly is full. I am exhausted beyond words, but first a few words for Bridled With Joy! This is my last post until I am a bona fide Mrs. so I want to go out with a bang!

I have never been more thankful, had more abundance and been more surrounded by family and friends and friends who are like family and family who are also friends. The stuffing was moist, the pumpkin cookies were flawless, and the company....just thinking about this amazing group of wonderful people brings crocodile tears to my eyes.


Here are the Polances posing with us after some TASTY thanksgiving treats.
Jeff, Jesse and David mugging for the camera!
We put the kids to work as soon as they got here, and they graciously obliged us by working on the wedding party favor and the programs. These are such good kids-- great California stock.
More manual labor from the Dubins, led by expert project manager, JoJo Ellis, who is my favorite person on the planet right now. She took control and gave everyone a job and next thing I knew we had programs and party favors. If you ever swing by the Sofitel in LA, ask for JoJo she'll give you the royal treatment.
Life of the party in in special, warm Chicago p.j.'s-- Party P!
USS Marina in da port! She saved me several times when I was in awkward conversations and she taught me a special happy song about a fishing pole and a watering hole. I will sing it this weekend when I need to go to the happy place. Expect to hear it early and often.

Thanksgiving indeed.

Thanksgiving Eve

Shhhh!!!Jeff thinks I am putting clean linens in all of our bathrooms for guests. But I passed by the office and the computer was just sitting here looking all lonely and unused. Jeff just finished printing out the seating chart for the rehearsal dinner. I am wondering if I should tell him now or later that I accidentally sneezed-- the messy kind-- on the final copy we were going to use on Friday night. Yes, there is a smudge or two on the first column of names. Gross. As one of my bosses says, "bad news doesn't age well." I have to fess up: "Jeff, that smudge is actually my boogers. Sorry. Let's reprint together."

See how good I am at marriage? So ahead of the curve.

There has been nothing but highlights since yesterday. I can't even blog the amount of highlights. I will preface my highlight paragraph by saying that Monday was the most emotionally painful day I have ever experienced in my life. It was sharp and the pain and doom seemed so real. I was worried about a health issue that was later resolved very much in our favor, but on Monday I was sitting in indecision, worry and my oh so rudimentary faith. Kind of an insult to even call it faith. Man, if you could have seen how many fights I tried to pick with Jeff trying to release the emotional fireball. Luckily, he cut me a lot of slack and we took a well-timed 31 minute nap that really saved the day.

On to highlights:

Every night this week Jeff and I have had dinner by ourselves. We have better nighttime personalities and it's been very special to eat at Cafe Lula, on the couch or at the Logan Bar and Grill. It was also special because the food has been really, really good. I am so grateful we kept that as protected time for us to vent, or plan, or just take other people's inventories. Very therapeutic. We have a little notebook full of lists. Oh the lists! The Costco I and Costco II list; the Dominick's list, the rehearsal dinner list, the wedding day list, the list of all of our lists. It's beautiful. It's just so damn beautiful.

So, we have climbed and summited many interpersonal mountains this week. We went to the doctor to have my health issue resolved and let me tell you, I have a new favorite number. It's 145 and on that score, more will be revealed.

We just got a call from Gene B, a dear friend, who called just say he was thinking of us and wanted to know if we need any last minute help. His actual words were more like, "if you have a treasure chest you need me to carry, let me know." How wonderful is that? I have learned so much about how to be a good friend and a good wedding guest from the gracious and generous people who are cocooning us this week. I can't wait until another friend gets married and I can remember all the little (and big) gestures and offers and well wishes. It means so much to us.

Jeff finished our 16 foot closet. It's so amazing and our previously under-utilized 4th floor is now like a zen retreat space. Next time Jeff's snoring negatively impacts my sleep, I am going straight up there to get my chi realigned and to get some shut eye.

One of the most professionally gratifying and educational cases I have ever worked on settled today. We saw it coming and I got the message on my blackberry this afternoon. It's bittersweet to see the resolution, which means the 4-times daily calls from that client will come to a halt, but it also means that the client got a good result and I feel really happy about the work I did on the case. It is also significant because I had at least 2 business trips in the offing for that case as soon as we get back from Argentina, but with the settlement, it looks like I will actually be at my post (the couch), doing what I do best (watch Jon and Kate Plus Eight or 30 Rock).

All of my outfits for the next few days are ready to go. I have mostly packed my bag for the night before the wedding when I will do a little virginal retreat to the Drake Hotel so as not to see Jeff until the ceremony on Saturday. I am excited to be joined by my sister and Mimi so that I don't get too lonely up in that big old majestic hotel.

There is a turkey, which I think was brined (if that is a verb), in the oven as we speak. At some point I will get up from this computer and complete the Linen Task. Our cups overfloweth and I hardly know how to take all this goodness in. The best I can do is be in each moment as it comes. It seems to be working so far.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, though we started early at my house this week. Family is arriving in full effect and the train will definitely be leaving the station once the Bridal Brigade gets moving full steam ahead. One of the things I am most grateful for is the outreach calls I got today from friends having deep feelings about the landscapes in their own yards. I felt so happy to be connected to my peeps, and not some removed, self-obsessed bride. While the truth is that I am pretty self-obsessed, and I have about 126 blog entries to prove that up, I am connected to some incredible people who shared some really beautiful and authentic feelings with me today and it's part of why these days feel so special. The people. The connections. The feelings.

It's so damn good.

It's the Little Things

Jeff and I have survived the weekend before our wedding, which was no easy feat. We thought we would be ahead of the curve for all the last minute stuff, but our past 2 weeks at work were way busier and life handed up precious surprises for which we are blessed, but also sort of stressed about the list of stuff for the big W.

I am happy to report that we ran most of the errands on our list and had a lot of fun along the way. Hightlights include a foray to T.J. Maxx for some last minute linens I insisted we get. I knew I would marry Jeff the first time we went to T.J. Maxx and he knew, I mean he just knew, how to work the story and find its gems beneath the dust, filth and crap. That takes a special talent, and I had never seen it in a man. He's good. If there is a Le Creuset pot or a Wustof knife at T.J. Maxx, Jeff will find it in all its red-tagged glory. My talents are best served in the purse and shoe department, so together we make a really good team.



Here's our intrepid groom at Register 5 at our neighborhood T.J. Maxx, where we got the max for the minimum. You can see the yummy Ralph Lauren throw blanket we got for our guest bedroom on the counter. It was soon to be ours. We want the guests staying with us for the wedding to slumber in style, even if it was last season's style.
And better yet, Jeff let me test my new formaldehyde-free nail polish on his feet. I was having trouble deciding which one to go with and he was kind enough to serve as my model. We went with the dark red, as opposed to the almost-black. I love my new Zoya polish-- good for the environment and good for the body. I never showed Jeff where the nail polish remover is so he's still got painted nails. True love comes in many colors, people!

We have confirmed that we are certifiably insane for hosting Thanksgiving 3 days before our wedding. This, however, was not news to us. While I am at a much-needed therapy session tomorrow, Jeff will perform the heroic trip to Costco by himself, though he promised to say hi to the frozen yogurt I love so much there. We'll meet up at lunch time (after I follow up therapy with a much-needed pedicure-- I can attest that Jeff's feet look better than mine) and then we are spending the afternoon baking with Jeff's mom, Carol. Carol, unlike me, can cook-- really, really cook. I believe our menu is lemon bars, pumpkin cookies, oatmeal raisin cookies and brownies. I am going to wear my favorite apron and try to keep things in check so that my dress really will fit on Saturday without having to re-engineer the bodice!

It's going to be a good week. One week from now, I will probably be in my bed reading the New York Times and looking at Jeff and trying to process that he is my husband. When I farted on him tonight he laughed ruefully and said that he is looking forward to me being less inhibited once we get married.

Ski Lift

It sure is hard to concentrate on work or paying bills when your wedding day is about 10 days away. I can hardly believe it. What is it going to feel like? Actually, it might be slightly more uncomfortable that I have ever pictured, thanks to the few pounds I have gained in the last month or so. And yes, that made for an interesting final fitting of the dress. Thank god, Joyce was there to help me rejigger the undergarments so that I can actually wear the same wedding dress. I sure took to heart the whole "I won't diet before my wedding" plan. Actually, I took it to my breasts and my stomach, but you'll just have to take my word for it. We are just hoping to stem the tide a wee bit so that I will be able to both exhale and inhale when in my bridal regalia.

In other news, we got our marriage license today. That was a good experience overall. I tried to take a picture of Jeff when he was conversing about Official State Matters at the license office, but a rather large and burly security guard swooped down and told me that photos are not allowed in the county building. And, I confess I was irritated by that. Don't they know I have a blog? Why can't I take a picture in the Office of Vital Records, when all I am trying to do is make my own vital record? I didn't argue with Mr. Officer of the Marriage License Office, but I have been fighting back in my head all day.

Tomorrow is out last day of work before the festivities, and it just can't come soon enough. There are eyebrows to be waxed, bras to be returned, and honeymoon outfits to coordinate. It's hard to do while also sitting at my desk and "doing my day job."

I have had a touch of insomnia. Last night I was wide awake from 4-5 a.m. I took that opportunity to make a wholesome snack of peanut butter and banana on marbled rye bread (um, why in the world doesn't my dress fit the same?) and think about the days to come. It feels like inching my way up a mountain on a ski lift, and I can see the little station where I will be expected to ski off to the right and then head down the slope (green slopes, please, hold the moguls). You spend so long waiting in line to get on the ski lift and then to ride the lift, which has spectacular views of the mountains and the skiiers down below-- and then, you reach the stopping point, you ski off and you are down the mountain in about 7.5 minutes. I was imagining that is how this wedding week will feel. We stood in line and got on the lift, which is like the start of the engagement. We've been edging our way up the mountain, holding our poles and trying not to kick our skis off. Now, the ride will go quickly. Thanksgiving, rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, bridal beauty binge, and then the ceremony. One, two, three, it will be over. I don't think the fact that it will be over is a bad thing. It's just how it is.

Luckily, Jeff and I have given some thought to our next adventures and what hobbies we will immerse ourselves in once we no longer have a wedding to plan. I am considering working on having a more "green" lifestyle and learning all about the science and art of making peppermint candies, the red and white kind that you are lucky to get after a garlicky meal at a restaurant. I think Jeff will make deeper forays into wood working. I am hoping he will carve my image into a big hunk of redwood. I hope to make it to 200 friends on Facebook by March 2009. It's going to be a seriously busy 2009!

But, let's not jump ahead of ourselves. There are 10 more days. Oops, I think it's actually 9 more days. Here's to calm and peace and light snow flurries before our descent down the mountain!

Dodo Bird

Jeff and I have been busy sewing the seeds of love so the blog has taken a bit of a back seat. And, to be perfectly honest, I have been a little engrossed in obsessively watching Season 2 of Thirty Rock and downloading Tori Amos songs. I am sure there is a connection there, but it certainly escapes me.

Remember when Gweneth Paltrow won an Oscar for Shakespeare in Love? Remember her speech and that pale pink gown she wore? (Remember how you could see she had no breasts at all and she looked sort of ghostly thin?) I read shortly after that, she fell into a deep depression. The report I remember reading said that people were constantly telling her that she should be so thrilled because she just won the coveted prize of her profession, but she was depressed.

That little vingette reminds me of something my friend Karen said the other day. With complete earnestness, she said, "I am getting everything I want in my life, and I am totally depressed." Most people who heard her say that laughed at the recognition of life's great irony: getting what you want make induce depression.

Believe me, when I come face to face with my creator one day, the first thing I will ask about -- after getting to the bottom of the why a benevolent creator would create a world where morning breath exists-- is why the depression after getting what you want most in the world?

Can you see where I am going with this? I have wanted to settle down with a great guy since my early twenties. I am in my mid-thirties now. The man I am marrying exceeds every single fantasy and vision and dream I ever cooked up. For the love of Moses, the man is building me a 14 foot closet with his own two hands! And, this weekend, I felt a lethargy and a depression. I was thinking it was the gray, 32-degree weather. Maybe it's hormones. Maybe it's premature wedding post-partum. Maybe it's stress. Trying to figure it out just makes me more lethargic. The point is that any fantasy that marriage will fix my moods or change my personality has gone the way of the dodo bird (See above).

So, instead of searching on-line for the perfect sunlamp or an "all natural" antidepressant -- exercise has worked just fine for me-- I am just going to lean into the feelings. I also know I have a pattern in my life that before something amazing and transformative happens (like, say, a wedding), I have all the negative feelings that are not "normally" associated such such events, like depression, or loneliness or sadness. Then, when the actual event finally arrives, I am seized with such joy and such jubilation. After the fact, I always feel happy that the more negative-seeming feelings came first so I could go through all of that to "earn" my joy. The slight hitch in that formula is that before the joy hits, I can only assume that it's coming. I have to take it on faith that come wedding day (or, God willing) rehearsal dinner day, I will be in possession of all the joy that my body and mind and heart can handle.

Til then, I think I am in good company with Ms. Paltrow and the other people similarly affected by such malaise.

Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?

Bridled with Joy has been a little light on previews of the groom's side of the aisle. I realized this when Debbie S-M asked me who the groomsmen are. After painstakingly chronicling all things bridal, it seems a little lopsided that I haven't said much at all about Jeff's posse. What any ardent follower of this blog needs to know is that the moral and emotional core of the groomsmen is David A. Ellis, Jeff's older brother. There is no kinder and hilarious man on the planet. Jeff and I agree that David is nicer than both of us, by a WAY long shot. He's also way funnier. He's been very welcoming of me since I first met him, 3 weeks into dating Jeff back in 2007. He's so good-hearted and such a good sport about absolutely everything that if he wasn't so nice, I might hate him for making it so clear what a morally falliable person I am.




(Also, I am writing this at 4:33 a.m., and I have been up since 3. Before that, I was up from 2-2:30, getting a snack and waiting for Jeff to come home from work. Yes, that's right, Jeff's work suddenly exploded so if I want to have a private conversation at home with my fiance, I have to wait until about 3:15 a.m. When life hands us lemons, we make lemonade...then I drink too much and get a canker sore, and have to swear off citrus and acids for about a week, but I digress.)

So, back to dear David. He looks a lot like Jeff, except he is a little bit shorter and he works out so he's got some guns. I have never met a man that loves a fart joke as much as I do. It's secretly my favorite thing about David. Actually, it's probably a good thing he likes fart jokes so much because he prepped Jeff for what will be the rest of his life with me.

Jeff calls him Davey Baby and I refer to him as the Tender Button. He's one of those people that I am so glad exist -- because his consideration of others and total selflessness seems other worldly-- but you also hope the world doesn't take too much advantage of. For example, during the wedding weekend, I hope he doesn't end up in a cab with the same cab driver I had the other night because I am pretty sure that guy tried to steal my soul.

No, not Siamese twins! Little Southern California boys catching some shut eye in what looks like a very uncomfortable position. You will note that Jeff (our little number 16) has positioned his rather large head on top of Davey's cartoid artery. And, perhaps that gives everyone a little inkling as to why I am awake right now and Jeff is asleep. It ain't easy to sleep with a giant head blocking your life force. I'll have to get some tips from Davey when he's in town for the wedding.

Shower The People You Love With Love

"From scarlet to powdered gold, to blazing yellow, to the rare ashen emerald, to the orange and black velvet of your shimmering corselet, out to the tip that like an amber thorn begins you, small, superlative being, you are a miracle, and you blaze."

- Ode to the Hummingbird, Pablo Neruda

The full version of Ode to the Hummingbird is worth a trip to your local Barnes and Noble bookstore (or local independent one if it still exists) to read and relish. How I came to know about this poem is a story about one of my favorite pre-wedding events.

On Sunday, Krista BB hosted a lovely prayer shower for me, where my friends and spiritual sisters could share blessings, wishes, poems, prayers, and advice for marriage. It was a moving experience. I was blessed with prayers and wisdom from many different religions-- from Neruda, to Judiasm's seven blessings, to a prayer about spirituality being like a bike ride. So much thought and love went into each gift and each thought, that it's been hard to sit down and write about it. I have carried it in my heart and read a different prayer or poem every morning and evening. I have been praying to be worthy of the prayers and worthy of the love that was so generously sent my way.

Last night, I read a packet that Marcia gave me, which included a journal entry from a prisoner who found God after being convicted of murder. I read the prayer before I realized that its author was someone behind bars for taking another's life. His thoughts were about getting honest and living a life that is connected to others through love. I was moved at the thought of someone facing many, many years behind bars striving to improve himself, connect to others, and find a sense of spirituality. I was most impressed about the author's belief that spirituality could be his, even after the events that resulted in him being a prisoner of the state.

The most humbling part about the prayer shower was simply accepting all the gifts coming my way. Mary C surprised me with a gift of 5 scarves, each decorated for a different holiday: Halloween, Thanksgiving, St. Patrick's Day, Christmas, Fourth of July. When asked why she picked that gift, she explained that she once heard me say that I wanted to be a person who celebrated all holidays-- a person who was so available to joy that no holiday would pass without my participation and celebration. That conversation took place on March 17, 2007. And all this time, over 20 months, Mary stored that information away and then gave me such a personal, supportive, and loving gift. The gift that says, "I heard you, I support you, and here's some fun accessories to celebrate your vision."

And you can see why I struggle with feeling worthy of the gifts, right?

And here's the thing. There were certain fantasies around my wedding that seemed so real to me I never once questioned whether it would happen. For example, I was positive that starting two weeks before the wedding (November 15, 2008, for those calendar challenged readers), I would work out every single day. I would work out, and eat "perfectly," and feel perfectly fit and toned and healthy on my wedding day. I had a whole plan in my head about what the day of my wedding would start with, and of course, it was going to start with a spin class or a 5-6 mile run. Who doesn't exercise on the morning of her wedding? But, God had other plans for my wedding morning, which will, as far as I know right now, include hanging out with my sister and Godson Patrick, and bridal caboose rider Mimi, ordering room service and maybe doing a blog entry. It's not what I would have planned, but when God sends me a gift and says, "hey, Sweetie, how about you slow down just a little so you can show up for all things with all of your feelings and energy and joy," I have an annoying habit of listening with an open mind and heart.

So, one more lesson about living in today. I have no idea what will happen in the next two weeks and 2 days. I am hoping I will finalize plans with the band ("absolultely NO Jimmy Buffet and NO Frank Sinatra"), get some decent panty hose and a brown sweater, pack for the honeymoon, figure out the bridesmaids' gift, etc., etc., etc. But, I am not in charge of anything really, I am just along for the ride. I am enjoyin the view and letting someone else steer the course.

Wedding Planning: Christie Style

Here's what it looks like when I do wedding planning: sitting on the chair, feet propped up, talking on the phone to friends while Jeff does the heavy lifting.

Saturday Morning Birthday Fellowship

In celebration of our dear friend Joyce's birthday, the high court of the Bridal Caboose gathered for organic, vegan breakfast yesterday at the ripe hour of 8:00 a.m. We almost got kicked out by the frazzled and controlling owner slash waiter, but the eggs were divine and the company unparalleled. It was nice to take a break from dissecting the campaign, stressing about our jobs, planning our weddings, plotting our careers, and showing up in general as the Adult Women we are to laugh, order in an esteemably high maintenance fashion and just catch up.

We are the kind of women who will change the world; who are changing the world. The therapists, artists, mothers, students, business women, landlords, wives, fiances, gardeners, friends. Sometimes, when I feel bad about myself because the committee in my head says, "you are not doing enough; your hobbies are lame," I think of these women and come to believe that the voices in my head are lies. These extraordinary women show me my own belovedness everytime I am in their presence.

Debbie and I after sharing some colon friendly oat bran pancakes and delicious cage-free eggs. We are smiling because we have just decided to go to Ulta 3 for nail polish and beauty browsing. Life is good.

Joyce and Trish are smiling because we all enjoyed Joyce's words of wisdom this morning: "Presents are fun." It's beautiful, simple, and true. Like us!

Two scoops of Mary in the morning does a body good. Our beloved Marys pause for the shutterbug. This is how we look first thing in the morning-- no wonder other women are envious and men are swooning.

I wasn't quick enough on the draw to capture the fair and lovely visage of Krista BB, who left our happy meal to attend a composting workshop. God's work.

Moving Day

Yesterday we packed up what was left of the princess patch and said good by to the now-empty goodness of my bachelorette pad in River North. Luckily, in this crappy market I had a long time to get used to the idea of not owning that little corner of the city and yesterday I only shed a few tears, and those were mostly because I forgot to pack a little snack and I got hungry watching our movers work really strenuously for about 3 hours. Now that the condo is empty I don't feel the same emotional pull or attachment to it, which makes me think that maybe the attachment was to my expression of myself in the condo. Without my stuff and my imprint, it's truly just 4 walls...and piano that we are trying to sell or give away. The wonders of Craigslist and other websites that matches sellers with owners has yet to work it's magic for the sturdy old Wurlitzer we are trying to unload.

The bedroom formerly known as my princess palace. Now, just walls and carpet and imprints were my bed and dresser used to be.

Once we got all of my stuff to the new house, I think I did my first ever bona fide nesting. I spent the afternoon (after my two-hour nap), cleaning out the closet, the dresser drawers, and putting unmistakable Christie touches in the yellow room we painted back in September. I was en fuego-- I put furniture pads on the bottom of night stands and put new books on the bookshelves. I even did a non-emergency load of laundry. It was so domestic I hardly recognized myself. I have never had much tolerance for long period of "home time." I like to GO GO GO. I like to work out, and see friends, and scavanage at T.J. Max. Why would I want to be at home folding socks? But, there is a shift happening so I am going with it.

I also realize that on the days when I work out I deplete myself so fully at spin class or running that there is no energy left. All that energy that could have been spent in my home and making a life or a nest or a really cozy home was squandered away on working out. I have heard of this alleged "middle ground," but I don't really do middle ground and it remains a mirage to me. But, while my back is too sore to really do any hard cardio, I am embracing this time to slow down. Life is the less sweaty lane is pleasant and full of richness inside my own four walls.

Perhaps the biggest challenge of all will be when my back stops hurting and I can get to the gym, will I be able to have a medium speed for all of this-- the domestic and the cardio? Stay tuned.

Party P Celebrates 10 months

That's definitely my godson: the eating with the hands; the love of big, fluffy starches that cover an entire plate! This picture is a welcome relief from thinking about myself and how we plan to host 35 people for Thanksgiving-- which will be an introduction of our two families-- and then mosey on in to the wedding weekend. Nothing stops me from obsessing faster than a picture of my godson, Party P. Although, now I am obsessing about where Jeff and I can get pancakes for dinner tonight.

It's here.

The inability to sleep past 4:30 a.m. The weepiness. Frantic list making in my head. Using core strength to fight off the urge to scream, during a contentious conference call, "Leave me alone! I am getting married in 3 weeks and 3 days!" The impulse to cut my hair into a charming little homemade pixie style. (Think Angelina Jolie in Girl, Interrupted.)

I think that is called being a bride. Seriously. 3.5 weeks? That's nothing.

And while it may be nothing, we hope it's long enough to finish building a closet. Jeff has been enhancing our love nest on the weekends and at night. The enhancement is a huge wall-to-wall closet on our fourth floor where there is presently nothing but an air mattress. I am so thrilled about this new closet and so in awe that Jeff can build it with his own two hands (and videos on the internet) that I am beside myself. Once the closet goes live, I am pretty sure there will be no excuses for not shopping as much as I want. But, come to think of it, I have never used storage as an excuse so it may not change my conspicuous consumption habits one bit.

Remember how far off election day seemed back when we had to watch billions of commercials about politicans endorsing ads and slinging mud? Well, election day and come and gone and now it's November 5th. For the mathematically challenged, that means its 24 days until our wedding. Just yesterday it seemed like 25 days away.

Last night during yoga when I was breathing and practicing existing, I had a vision-- it was literally one tenth of a second-- where I could imagine how I might feel at the wedding. The joy in my vision was nuclear. Remember how scary the nuclear war TV movie, The Day After, seemed in grammar school? Well, that's how potent the Wedding Day bliss seems to me right now. Potent enough to rip the flesh off my body. (Wonder how my dress will look if I have no skin?)

I have spent a little time obsessing and feeling sad that we haven't arranged a videographer. I made one failed attempt to secure services, and then dropped the ball. I think of being curled up on the couch one day with my sons and daughters and showing them the video of mom and dad getting married at this big tent in November 2008. Frankly, it's going to be a little awkward when we snuggle up to watch a video that doesn't exist. The problem is that there is time to get something in place, but I haven't done it. For the 3 day dreams I have had about having little Noah, Riley, and Ezra Ellis sitting on my lap watching the video with organic corn puffs and soy milk out of recycled sippie cups, I could have found a videographer. If I end up never moving from the realm of day dreams to the realm of actually hiring a person to videotape the ceremony, then I guess Jeff and I will just have to act it out for the kids. Maybe it will be an excuse to get the dress out of storage ("in the closet Jeff made right before our wedding, kids") and prance around.

Maybe I am holding on the videographer angst because after that, I really don't have anything else to obsess about. I can't believe I am saying this, but there is nothing else to buy, no one to hire, no service to schedule, no outfit to coordinate. I need to hold on the videographer question for dear life right now, and maintain my grasp for as long as I need to have something to mull over.

BaRock the Vote!

There are so few things in life worth missing sleep over, especially during the week. But voting made the cut, so we got up at 5:30 a.m. and went to Moos Elementary School to vote. There was a lot of energy in the crowd for that oh-so-early hour, and I had some uncharitable moments when I was doubting the volunteers' level of competency to run the voting process, but we were back in the car by 6:15 a.m. and now poised to head into work about an hour early.

It feels good to be a citizen! I feel like I own a piece of the mandate that Barack Obama will be officially given in about 12 hours or so. I am taking this opportunity to wax eloquently because I have never voted before. Yes, that's right. Two advanced degrees and exclusively urban living and I have never voted. (I don't count voting for Mike Millardi for prom king, though that was a vote a cast with pride. ) My civic non-voting streak ends today.

I think that today should be a national holiday -- not because I finally got off my ass and took part in my country's hard-earned democratic processes-- but in order for people to get to the polls and then sit in front of CNN all day long. That's what people are doing anyway. Yesterday, I called a junior associate who was doing some work for me, and I could hear NPR in the background talking about the battleground states. He didn't even lower the volume when I called. So much for the authority I have to command respect and attention from young associates!

Anyway, I am going to yoga tonight to help me calm down and relax. It's been two nights in a row of not so much sleeping as staring at the ceiling listening to my lovely groom snore the night away. I decided around 3:30 a.m. this morning that I would take my fitness to the next level by slowing down and working on breathing and slowing my mind. Why not? Hell is already frozen from my visit to the Needle Farm last week so why not a little shivasana on Election night?

OMG!

November just got more exciting. As if it's not enough to get married this month, I just stood next to the Godmother of Chicago and the Queen of DayTime T.V., Oprah Winfrey. I was so excited to see her I almost puked. Seriously. The room started to spin and I almost had to sit down. It took every ounce of self-control and composure I could muster not to gawk at her or offer to be her slave or to tell her I have the exact same T-shirt she was wearing. I could kick myself in the head for not having it on. This story would be so much better if I ran into Oprah and had on the same exact t-shirt.

The truth is a little less "twinsies," but still very exciting. I had just finished working out and I stepped into the dressing area in the ladies locker room to see if I could place my bangs in such a way on my forehead so that I looked less like someone with a 105 degree fever and a little more like someone who can come out of spin class with a little glistening. As I was standing there giving my bangs a little talking to, I saw a woman come in the room who appeared to be looking for something. She was wearing a red Gap t-shirt that read "Nurtu(red)"-- that's the one I have but wasn't wearing this morning-- and I looked up and thought it was the lady who does yoga when I normally do spin. I was about to say hi, but then I realized it wasn't yoga lady, but someone who looked really, really familiar. I went back to talking to my bangs, and seconds later, I realized she looked familiar because I have been seeing Oprah since I was in high school. I stopped talking to my bangs and started talking to my self: "Self, be cool. The woman wants to work out so don't stare like some hillbilly. Be COOL."

I left the room thinking I couldn't trust myself to remain calm because my heart was beating too quickly. I went to the ladies locker room front desk and yes, I admit it, I pretended to need a little plastic baggie to put my wet clothes in (the same ones I was presently wearing), and next thing I know, Oprah was standing right next to me asking the front desk receptionist if there was any contact lens solution anywhere. At that point, I looked right at her and smiled, in a way that I hope conveyed the following: "Look, you look vaguely familiar to me but I am very sophisticated and cerebral so I am not fawning over you any more than you are fawning all over me, even though my bangs look terrific. Let's just be adults and go on with our days, Ok, Oprah?" I think I probably actually gave her a smile that reminds her why she doesn't normally venture out in public because "the public" is full of neurotic people like me.

I like to think I played it cool. I waited until I got into the car to call my therapist and leave a message asking him what it means that I was so excited I almost vomited on Oprah in the health club. I can't wait to hear that analysis. If it's a family friendly analysis, perhaps I'll recount it here tomorrow morning.

Strike Two For Feminism

Today the BWJ staff hurtled its way through yet another rite of passage. Today was the day that I showed up at the Red Door Salon for my practice hair and make up session. I was not exactly looking forward to this, though I can't say why. It sort of seemed like large chunk of time to give over to beauty for one freaking day, but I rallied my spirits and took public transportation to the Magnificent Mile and the results were way better than expected. For the visual readers, I have a before and after picture of my make-up. I am not posting the hair do we settled on because (1) it was shock to me what we ended up doing and (2) there have to be some surprises on the Bridal Caboose.


So, here's me in the pilfered sweet potato blazer from J. Crew in a "before" shot. No make up at all, and I barely put a brush through my hair. This is how I normally look before I apply my regular make up, which is Estee Lauder powder, a little bit of Prescriptives concealer, and some Norstrom's Rack lip gloss. Mine is a very high couture life.
Here's me after sneaking into the poorly lit bathroom at the Salon so I can take a picture of the "after" application. So, this was after 27-year old Sidra Luna used my face as a canvass to to her "art." I hate to admit it was sort of fun. I emphasized at the onset that I want to look natural, and I want to be able to recognize myself when I look at the pictures. I listed all of the people I do not want to look like: Jon Benet Ramsey, Tammy Faye Baker, Ru Paul, anyone on a float in the gay pride parade, anyone working the late shift at the Baton Club. I think she got the picture. She asked me who I did want to look like and I told her Neve Campbell, Lauren Hutton, Eryka Badu. You know, I was trying to keep it real.

Anyway, Sidra did a good job. My eyes weren't too smoky and my lips were pretty subtle too. As long as I didn't have some garish colored eye shadow or fake eye lashes, I was going to be happy. I am glad I did it, even though it seems a little overkill. I have heard lots of stories about women who had bad experiences on the day of their wedding when their hair turned out hideous and they had to scrub off make-up and start all over again with the L'Oreal products from CVS.

Also, hell froze over today. I forgot to mention that. Yes, I always said hell would freeze over before I would go get acupuncture. Well, denizens of Hell, get out your Gortex, because this little bride had about 12 needles poked all over her body today and it was a really amazing experience. It was probably most amazing to me because I am sometimes shocked by my own willingness to try new things. I ended up allowing one Jackie O'Neill to puncture me today because I want to give myself every opportunity to relax and take more joy in right now.

As a matter of fact, 4 weeks from this moment, I will be eating dinner at my own wedding reception. How CRAY-ZEE is that? I want to be there when the time comes. I want to be fully there and present and taking in all the people, the vibrations, the food, and the warmth of family and friends. Part of the reason I don't really care about how my make-up or hair will look is because the bigger challenge-- and bigger reward-- will be getting my body and mind to cooperate with the schedule. That is, allowing myself to free fall into the joy and shock of getting married. Who cares if I have a chingnon or a swoop or a French twist? Who cares if my eye lashes are brown or black?

So, I got a recommendation from a bridal caboose rider to see Jackie for acupuncture. I liked it way better than massage because, frankly, it's less messy. I liked it better than energetic body work, which I experimented with back in the Fall of 2005, because it's a little less hokey pokey to me. I also liked the paperwork for acupuncture. I was asked to list the ailments or areas I would like to address with my treatment. I listed in this order:

1. Relaxation
2. Joy
3. Great sleep
4. Less PMS symptoms
5. Less muscle aches and pains
6. Availability for fertility abundance
7. Joy

Jackie graciously went with my list and assured me that the work we would do would be a good aid to all of the things I want in my life. I closed my eyes during the needle insertion process, because I didn't want to infuse the experience with any innate squeamishness I have about sharp objects piercing my delicate epidermis. She put the needles, gave me a lovely scented eye patch, and left the room.

So, there I was laying on a super comfortable table, eye patch lulling me to semi-sleep and needles in my arms, stomach, ears, forehead, and ankles. My busy, turbo-charged brain actually stilled. I felt some waves of heat through my body. It felt almost sublime. I felt a million miles away from my day job, from the pressure of trying to keep up with Jeff's energy level around the wedding, and from the hundred messages in my head that just chatter all day long to the tune of "Christie, you are not doing enough...Christie, you are not doing it right....Christie, you are wrong." At one point, all my mind was "seeing" was field of wheat stalks blowing in the wind on a perfect late fall day. I never thought I would day dream about amber waves of grain!

The best gift was that the judgmental part of my brain that thinks Chinese Medicine is really a euphemism for "here comes a malpractice suit" was quiet long enough for me to get some benefits for my body, mind and spirit.

It was a precious 7 minutes I had with myself. I even made a follow-up appointment for two weeks from today.