Ask and ye shall receive

In the past few weeks, I've been asking C* if he wants to give it another shot. I must enjoy being rejected, though, because he keeps saying "no" but I just keep asking.

He and his girlfriend are serious, he says, and he's not going to dump her to give things another try. He doesn't believe that I want to be with him, anyway. He thinks it's just desperation talking. But the thing is, I can't imagine ever being with anyone else.

February update

Months go by and I don't write a thing, I know, but I honestly feel, most times, that I have nothing to say. Elliot this. Elliot that. Blah. Blah. Blah.

Elliot will be a year old on Wednesday. I'm having a little party and inviting my Invernesian friends for some food, spirits and cake. Just a low-key event to celebrate one whole year of somehow managing to keep my spawn alive, safe and - gasp! - even happy.



Since my last post, Elliot has had her first fever and her second cold, cut her first teeth (late bloomer like momma) and started standing on her own as well as walking around and around every room while hanging onto whatever furniture happens to be along the way. She has also somehow managed to start getting out of her sleeping bag when I put her down for a nap. When she goes into her cot, the bag is zipped and snapped, but when I go up to get her from her nap, the bag is unsnapped but still zipped and is either on top of or underneath her. A regular baby Houdini!

In other news: C* and I have been going to relationship counseling every week for the past couple of months. Our relationship hit rock bottom a couple weeks before Christmas but is enjoying somewhat of a Renaissance at the moment. Will we make it? Will we crumble? Which is harder: marriage or motherhood? I'd have to say marriage - by far. Motherhood? A piece of cake compared.

Yay Obama. Boo Israel. Yay Guantanamo closing. Boo economy. Yay equal pay law. Boo Limbaugh (as always). Boo Chicago politics. Boo bank bailouts. Boo! Boo! Boo!

You can start a new life, but you can't erase the old

I just awoke from what feels like a long dream where I'm working at Wendy's again. I'm there, toasting buns and cooking bacon before the doors are opened. The other two people who helped me with the opening have taken a break and are eating in the dining room. I haven't taken a break, because there's too much to be done. I'm standing next to a new employee. He's this 16-year-old who's working the grill. I'm asking him why the bacon pans he's made are filled with grease. I tell him the bacon is supposed to be drained. He apologizes. He calls me ma'am. He's kissing my ass.

I am panning some bacon that's piled up on the grill. The buns I'm putting in the toasting machine are getting stuck and burned. At a lull, I go out to the dining room and let the other two women know that I haven't had a break. They say that's not right and tell me to go on break. The dream shifts.

Now I'm sitting on the curb in the parking lot of a local mall. An old Tallahassee friend who drifted into the Land of Lost Friends is there. She's smoking, something she never did in my waking life. We're talking, but I don't remember what we're saying. Small talk, most likely. Then, one of her friends comes up, and they start talking. The dream shifts.

I'm at the home of Schmutzie and The Palinode. It's weird, because they look nothing like I ever thought they would look (and I know roughly what they look like). She has dark hair straight to her shoulders and choppy bangs. He has a full head of light brown hair. They are hipsters, to be sure. And they have two kids. I am amazed at this, because, in all the time I've read their blogs, they've never mentioned kids. And in two weeks of staying at their house, I've never seen said kids. Finally, I spot a couple of family photos. The girl child looks just like a younger version of mom. The boy child, a younger version of dad. It's all very strange.

I wake up, and here's C* next to me. He's still sound asleep, and he should be. At 2 a.m., I woke up with him wandering around the apartment. He couldn't sleep.

C* goes home today, and I will be left here alone and pregnant and wondering when the fuck I'll ever see him again. I'm hoping to apply for my visa in two weeks (to start at the end of October), and I'm terrified that I'll be rejected. Then what? I don't want to have a baby on my own, and I'm horrified at the prospect of not seeing my new husband for a much longer period of time than I'm already planning.

But I suppose there's no use worrying. I just have to wait and see.

We need cash, alright? Get over it!

I'm finding that even a low-key wedding involves a dizzying amount of preparation. There are so many things to consider for even the simplest of affairs. Location, notary, dress, shoes, hair, rings, cake, flowers, food/drink, music, invitations.

Having never done this before (and never planning on doing this again), I think I'm doing pretty well. In the span of two days, I've secured a location for the wedding AND the reception (thank you Michael!), found a notary, ordered the cake, sent out half the invitations, researched rings at jewelry stores in Tallahassee and decided that, with the help of several gracious friends, the food will be prepared by C* and I.

The cake will feed 80, but I have no idea who is actually going to show up besides my dad and step-mom, my brother and sister-in-law, a couple of friends who live in Maryland and Tennessee, several coworkers and a handful of Tallahassee friends. C*'s mom and brothers might make the trip from England, but that's just a maybe. I'm hoping that, within a week, we will have a final tally.

The invitation situation would have been easier had we had the time to order personalized invitations like everyone else on the planet does. But with such short notice and such a skimpy budget, I was forced to buy some that I'm having to fill out by hand and assemble myself. That's taking a lot of time.

And another thing: I'm having a shitty time handling the whole wedding gift situation we are finding ourselves in. It boils down to the fact that I am honest and that this particular honesty can't be put in nicer terms: We need cash.

Don't give us blenders or dishes or flatware or bread machines or picture frames or anything else I'll have to sell or return while I'm busy getting rid of everything else I own for my upcoming move to Scotland. Cash, my friends, will more than do.

Against the warning (mandate) of my father, I have conveyed this information in the invitations. After consulting with several friends, I ended up writing this at the bottom of every one of them: "No gifts, please. Any monetary contributions will be greatly appreciated."

It's not like I'm telling people they HAVE to send something. I'm telling them that if they do, this is what we want. Cash is crass, I know. But there's no way around the truth. Not only do we not want anything from a department store, but a deluge of useless household items would hurt us. Tacky, right? I know, I know. But at least I'm honest.

I told my father about the wedding a little over 24 hours ago. I can't say I was thrilled with his what-do-you-want-now-how-are-you-going-to-inconvenience-me-this-time-why-can't-you-just-leave-me-alone-once-and-for-all attitude concerning the whole thing. He definitely didn't act like a father whose only daughter is finally getting married and starting a family. After asking if I was going to register at the Salvation Army Thrift Store (he's so fucking funny) and NOT asking if there's anything he do to financially lend a hand, he told me they'd just come up that day for the ceremony and leave the following morning. Don't you just feel the warmth?

I was recounting this story to one of my close coworkers who also had a shitty father. She said it's sad that some parents have every opportunity to have close, loving relationships with their children but seem to do everything they can to quash any hope of that and create ill feelings. That just about sums up my relationship with you-know-who. But I need to get off this topic, because it's only going to bring me down again. And anyone who brings me down needs to fuck off.

C* will be here on July 16, and I can't wait. My days and nights and my bed are so lonely without him, and I am so very keen to show everyone just how I feel about him by making him my husband on July 21.

Gee, I really love him, and we're...

Gonna get married. In Tallahassee. On July 21. So much to do...!