maarmie's musings
Friday, November 02, 2007
maarmie on location in Scotland
I'm here. I'm happy. I'm applying for jobs and getting my life together. This move just might be the best thing I've ever done.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
$75 worth of bad publicity
My blood sugar level rose to unprecedented levels the other day, and I speed-walked to the library in record time to burn off some of the anger brought on by the crappy sales ethic of Josh Redmond, the guy who sold me on SOUTHERN GROUP INC. in south Florida - for all my shipping needs.
Here's what happened: When Josh initially quoted me the $860 fee for shipping my 11 measly boxes door to door from Tallahassee to Inverness, it was the lowest rate I had gotten thus far - even though the rate was based on a 100-square-feet minimum and I was shipping a mere 30 square feet of cargo.
I jumped on the deal making sure to pay careful attention to the "exclusion list" in big print in the body of the quote document. Said "exclusion list" includes documentation fees, palletizing fees, extra fees for having to haul the boxes more than a certain amount from your door to the nearest location the truck can be parked, etc. About 10 exclusions in all.
Having read horror stories on the Internet about moving companies that quote one fee then tack on a myriad of additional charges after they've got their grubby hands on all your shit, I took special care to go over this "exclusion list" item by item with Josh. I didn't want this happening to me.
Josh assured me that none of the items - except possibly port security charges - would apply to my shipment. I was satisfied and filled out the credit card authorization form and the inventory list and sent them back to Josh in an e-mail reiterating what he had said about the quote being the exact rate I was to pay - except possibly port security charges. Though Josh had offered to put this in writing on his end, and though I said OK, I never got said e-mail, and I never got a reply to mine asking him to confirm this agreement.
Red flag, anyone?
That day, I received two quotes lower than what SOUTHERN GROUP INC. was offering, but I didn't cancel with them because they seemed to know what they were doing. Little did I know that was going to be the last I was going to hear from Josh except for when he tried to fuck me with the final bill.
So, a couple of days after e-mailing back the required documents, I'm waiting for the bill of lading to come via fax to give to the driver who would be hauling my shit to Miami. The day before the driver was to come, I still hadn't gotten said bill of lading. After eight or so phone calls to SOUTHERN GROUP, INC., I finally got my bill of lading, a couple of hours after I was told it would be immediately sent. The word "immediately" doesn't mean jack shit to SOUTHERN GROUP, INC., as you will see shortly.
OK. The Federal Express freight guy is super nice. He takes the information off my bill of lading and puts my boxes on his truck. I learn all about his pregnant wife and his young daughter in the process. Hurdle one jumped. My stuff was on its way.
After that, I was waiting for information on the company overseas that would be receiving my stuff. Name? Phone number? Not too much to ask. I requested this information twice from SOUTHERN GROUP, INC. Twice, I was told by someone named Jay that this information would be e-mailed to me. It is now weeks later, and I have yet to receive this e-mail.
Of course I took it upon myself to call Omega Shipping in Miami, the company that actually owns the ships that will be carrying my cargo. The lovely woman who answered the phone there was prompt, kind and courteous, I might add. She confirmed they received my 11 boxes, that they were currently being loaded onto the ship and that Eurousa was the company handling my shipment in the UK. She even gave me their phone number. Now was that so hard?
So, all that was left was to wait for the final invoice to be e-mailed to me so I could authorize payment on my credit card, after which I would supposedly be receiving all the information about the ship (vessel number, docking day and time, etc.) The final invoice came on Friday, the only time since sending my credit card number that I have heard from Josh, and it was $170 more than what he had initially quoted.
Fury.
Instant fury.
This final invoice included two items from the "exclusion list" that I was told didn't apply to my shipment: a $95 documentation fee and a $75 palletizing fee. WHAT?!
I e-mailed Josh back immediately asking why these charges were added to my invoice considering he told me they wouldn't apply. I even forwarded him the e-mail I sent him on October 2, the one I sent trying to confirm everything we had discussed:
----------------------
Josh,
Good to hear that my shipment is on schedule. I had called Omega, and they verified that all 11 boxes were on board. Regarding the price, I was quoted $860.00 plus $120 for insurance and was told those would be the only charges. You told me that yourself on the phone. What are these documentation and pallet fees?
----------------------
AND:
---------------------
This was sent to you by me on October 2 to confirm what we talked about. You did not reply:
Josh,
Please confirm that the $860.00 USD quote includes all fees, charges for door-to-door service of my shipment except the port security charge you say could be added. Please also confirm that this rate includes $1,000 of insurance on my shipment. I have not added any additional insurance. Attached is the contact form and the CC authorization form. I will e-mail you a list of boxes/items/values first thing in the morning. Thank you so much for your help.
----------------------
I didn’t get a response that day. The next morning, I called SOUTHERN GROUP INC. to talk to the little weasel who chose to hide behind e-mail and seemed to be running when I dared to call him out. Josh was on another call, I was told, and, after waiting for about five minutes on hold, I talked at length to the guy who had answered the phone. I told him my problem, and he assured me that Josh would call me back.
"No he won't," I told him. "Josh never calls me back."
He swore, though, that he, personally, would see to it that Josh call me.
Three hours later, Josh still hadn't called. I called my husband to complain and to take him up on his offer to call the little scumbag.
C* called, and it was Josh who answered the phone. C* talked to him about my issues, and Josh denied ever telling me that items on the "exclusion list" wouldn't apply to my shipment. He said, however, that he would talk to his supervisor and take off the $95 documentation fee and would call me in the next few minutes. Those were his words. In a few minutes.
HA!
One hour later, I asked C* to call again. Josh answered again and said he would be calling me immediately. Tick tock.
Then, I get another fucking e-mail:
-----------------------
Dear Ms. Blakley,
I do apologize about the delay in getting back to you. Unfortunately I have been in and out of the office for the past week assisting on local shipment we have going out.
In regards to your concerns we do not include any documentation or pallet charges in our cost.
This was clearly mention in all of our exclusion and was not specified in the included items on your rate.
We have to pay these charges out to the steamship line therefore we have to bill the customer. There are many unforeseen issues with shipping overseas therefore we have to keep an exclusions list just like any other company.
The balance of $1150 will still stand at this time.
Please let us know if you have any further questions.
Thank you
---------------------------
By this time I was seeing red.
On the phone to C* again, reading the e-mail and asking him to talk to Josh's supervisor. While he was on the phone talking to a Mr. Levins and accusing Josh of saying what he had to say to get my business and then scamming me later, I got a wild hair up my ass to call the supervisor myself. He called me back when he was done talking to C*, and I let him have it. I told him the whole story, and all he could say was that Josh was one of his best employees and that the "exclusion list" is written in large print on the invoice. I told him I knew all about the damn list but that Josh had told me blah blah blah.
Long story somewhat shorter, he took the documentation fee off the cost, leaving me stuck with only $75 in extra charges. Since I knew my only other option was to pay the entire cost quoted (within three days or face additional "surcharges" - how convenient) I happily chose this option.
They better hope I don't stumble upon any message boards having to do with moving companies, though, because I have more than $75 worth of venom to spew about their shitty service.
Here's what happened: When Josh initially quoted me the $860 fee for shipping my 11 measly boxes door to door from Tallahassee to Inverness, it was the lowest rate I had gotten thus far - even though the rate was based on a 100-square-feet minimum and I was shipping a mere 30 square feet of cargo.
I jumped on the deal making sure to pay careful attention to the "exclusion list" in big print in the body of the quote document. Said "exclusion list" includes documentation fees, palletizing fees, extra fees for having to haul the boxes more than a certain amount from your door to the nearest location the truck can be parked, etc. About 10 exclusions in all.
Having read horror stories on the Internet about moving companies that quote one fee then tack on a myriad of additional charges after they've got their grubby hands on all your shit, I took special care to go over this "exclusion list" item by item with Josh. I didn't want this happening to me.
Josh assured me that none of the items - except possibly port security charges - would apply to my shipment. I was satisfied and filled out the credit card authorization form and the inventory list and sent them back to Josh in an e-mail reiterating what he had said about the quote being the exact rate I was to pay - except possibly port security charges. Though Josh had offered to put this in writing on his end, and though I said OK, I never got said e-mail, and I never got a reply to mine asking him to confirm this agreement.
Red flag, anyone?
That day, I received two quotes lower than what SOUTHERN GROUP INC. was offering, but I didn't cancel with them because they seemed to know what they were doing. Little did I know that was going to be the last I was going to hear from Josh except for when he tried to fuck me with the final bill.
So, a couple of days after e-mailing back the required documents, I'm waiting for the bill of lading to come via fax to give to the driver who would be hauling my shit to Miami. The day before the driver was to come, I still hadn't gotten said bill of lading. After eight or so phone calls to SOUTHERN GROUP, INC., I finally got my bill of lading, a couple of hours after I was told it would be immediately sent. The word "immediately" doesn't mean jack shit to SOUTHERN GROUP, INC., as you will see shortly.
OK. The Federal Express freight guy is super nice. He takes the information off my bill of lading and puts my boxes on his truck. I learn all about his pregnant wife and his young daughter in the process. Hurdle one jumped. My stuff was on its way.
After that, I was waiting for information on the company overseas that would be receiving my stuff. Name? Phone number? Not too much to ask. I requested this information twice from SOUTHERN GROUP, INC. Twice, I was told by someone named Jay that this information would be e-mailed to me. It is now weeks later, and I have yet to receive this e-mail.
Of course I took it upon myself to call Omega Shipping in Miami, the company that actually owns the ships that will be carrying my cargo. The lovely woman who answered the phone there was prompt, kind and courteous, I might add. She confirmed they received my 11 boxes, that they were currently being loaded onto the ship and that Eurousa was the company handling my shipment in the UK. She even gave me their phone number. Now was that so hard?
So, all that was left was to wait for the final invoice to be e-mailed to me so I could authorize payment on my credit card, after which I would supposedly be receiving all the information about the ship (vessel number, docking day and time, etc.) The final invoice came on Friday, the only time since sending my credit card number that I have heard from Josh, and it was $170 more than what he had initially quoted.
Fury.
Instant fury.
This final invoice included two items from the "exclusion list" that I was told didn't apply to my shipment: a $95 documentation fee and a $75 palletizing fee. WHAT?!
I e-mailed Josh back immediately asking why these charges were added to my invoice considering he told me they wouldn't apply. I even forwarded him the e-mail I sent him on October 2, the one I sent trying to confirm everything we had discussed:
----------------------
Josh,
Good to hear that my shipment is on schedule. I had called Omega, and they verified that all 11 boxes were on board. Regarding the price, I was quoted $860.00 plus $120 for insurance and was told those would be the only charges. You told me that yourself on the phone. What are these documentation and pallet fees?
----------------------
AND:
---------------------
This was sent to you by me on October 2 to confirm what we talked about. You did not reply:
Josh,
Please confirm that the $860.00 USD quote includes all fees, charges for door-to-door service of my shipment except the port security charge you say could be added. Please also confirm that this rate includes $1,000 of insurance on my shipment. I have not added any additional insurance. Attached is the contact form and the CC authorization form. I will e-mail you a list of boxes/items/values first thing in the morning. Thank you so much for your help.
----------------------
I didn’t get a response that day. The next morning, I called SOUTHERN GROUP INC. to talk to the little weasel who chose to hide behind e-mail and seemed to be running when I dared to call him out. Josh was on another call, I was told, and, after waiting for about five minutes on hold, I talked at length to the guy who had answered the phone. I told him my problem, and he assured me that Josh would call me back.
"No he won't," I told him. "Josh never calls me back."
He swore, though, that he, personally, would see to it that Josh call me.
Three hours later, Josh still hadn't called. I called my husband to complain and to take him up on his offer to call the little scumbag.
C* called, and it was Josh who answered the phone. C* talked to him about my issues, and Josh denied ever telling me that items on the "exclusion list" wouldn't apply to my shipment. He said, however, that he would talk to his supervisor and take off the $95 documentation fee and would call me in the next few minutes. Those were his words. In a few minutes.
HA!
One hour later, I asked C* to call again. Josh answered again and said he would be calling me immediately. Tick tock.
Then, I get another fucking e-mail:
-----------------------
Dear Ms. Blakley,
I do apologize about the delay in getting back to you. Unfortunately I have been in and out of the office for the past week assisting on local shipment we have going out.
In regards to your concerns we do not include any documentation or pallet charges in our cost.
This was clearly mention in all of our exclusion and was not specified in the included items on your rate.
We have to pay these charges out to the steamship line therefore we have to bill the customer. There are many unforeseen issues with shipping overseas therefore we have to keep an exclusions list just like any other company.
The balance of $1150 will still stand at this time.
Please let us know if you have any further questions.
Thank you
---------------------------
By this time I was seeing red.
On the phone to C* again, reading the e-mail and asking him to talk to Josh's supervisor. While he was on the phone talking to a Mr. Levins and accusing Josh of saying what he had to say to get my business and then scamming me later, I got a wild hair up my ass to call the supervisor myself. He called me back when he was done talking to C*, and I let him have it. I told him the whole story, and all he could say was that Josh was one of his best employees and that the "exclusion list" is written in large print on the invoice. I told him I knew all about the damn list but that Josh had told me blah blah blah.
Long story somewhat shorter, he took the documentation fee off the cost, leaving me stuck with only $75 in extra charges. Since I knew my only other option was to pay the entire cost quoted (within three days or face additional "surcharges" - how convenient) I happily chose this option.
They better hope I don't stumble upon any message boards having to do with moving companies, though, because I have more than $75 worth of venom to spew about their shitty service.
Monday, October 15, 2007
The last supper
The family came up here this weekend to see me one last time before I fly off into the wild blue yonder. I was stressing about it Saturday to C*, worried that my dad would use this meeting as one last chance to get a few digs in before I leave.
The end of Saturday evening would have been easier for me had that been the case. But, yet again, the 'rents had to make things as hard as possible on me by being...nice.
They exclaimed over the wedding photo album and the photos of Scotland I brought along to share. They asked thoughtful questions about my near future. They all said how good I looked. It all left me wondering why things couldn't have been this way all along, why they waited until I was get ready to move to another country to finally treat me like a human being.
Following years of mental and physical inactivity following the death of my grandfather, my gradmother looks old, sad and frail. Her hair is grayer than ever, she seems shorter than ever and she looks sadder than ever. That's the last time I'll ever see her, I'm sure.
Though we were extremely close when I was a child, we have had a falling out in recent years, and I don't really have any feelings about this meeting being our last or about the reality that my daughter will never meet her great-grandmother.
My brother and sister-in-law were great. For once, my brother was the butt of all the jokes, and he took it quite well. After losing more than 200 pounds, he is obsessed with healthy weight maintenance, exercise, nutrition and body fat percentages. As my brother is wont to do, he talked on and on about the topic, and we took this as an opportunity to roll our eyes, point out his phychological weaknesses and laugh our stupid laughs. I joined in with glee, finally knowing how it felt to be on the other side of the punch lines. I'm not saying I'm proud of how I acted, but it was interesting all the same.
But bro knows we think he's the biggest genius we'll ever meet in our lifetimes, so at least he's got that to cling to even as we insinuate, with smiles on our faces, that he'll one day end up in a padded cell somewhere bound by a straightjacket.
Love you, bro!
I was hoping dad and stepmom would break open their wallets for more than dinner, but it wasn't destined to be. No cash for only daughter and soon-to-be granddaughter. maarmie sad.
When brother and sister-in-law dropped me back at my place this morning after brunch, I couldn't help but cry. My brother is the only person in my family who has meant anything significant to me for such a long time, and it will be ages before I see him again. At least I leave seeing that he has become such a different and better person on so many levels and that he has (albeit obsessively) decided to take his good health into his own hands.
Food won't be killing him anytime soon, and that makes it so much easier for me to float away.
The end of Saturday evening would have been easier for me had that been the case. But, yet again, the 'rents had to make things as hard as possible on me by being...nice.
They exclaimed over the wedding photo album and the photos of Scotland I brought along to share. They asked thoughtful questions about my near future. They all said how good I looked. It all left me wondering why things couldn't have been this way all along, why they waited until I was get ready to move to another country to finally treat me like a human being.
Following years of mental and physical inactivity following the death of my grandfather, my gradmother looks old, sad and frail. Her hair is grayer than ever, she seems shorter than ever and she looks sadder than ever. That's the last time I'll ever see her, I'm sure.
Though we were extremely close when I was a child, we have had a falling out in recent years, and I don't really have any feelings about this meeting being our last or about the reality that my daughter will never meet her great-grandmother.
My brother and sister-in-law were great. For once, my brother was the butt of all the jokes, and he took it quite well. After losing more than 200 pounds, he is obsessed with healthy weight maintenance, exercise, nutrition and body fat percentages. As my brother is wont to do, he talked on and on about the topic, and we took this as an opportunity to roll our eyes, point out his phychological weaknesses and laugh our stupid laughs. I joined in with glee, finally knowing how it felt to be on the other side of the punch lines. I'm not saying I'm proud of how I acted, but it was interesting all the same.
But bro knows we think he's the biggest genius we'll ever meet in our lifetimes, so at least he's got that to cling to even as we insinuate, with smiles on our faces, that he'll one day end up in a padded cell somewhere bound by a straightjacket.
Love you, bro!
I was hoping dad and stepmom would break open their wallets for more than dinner, but it wasn't destined to be. No cash for only daughter and soon-to-be granddaughter. maarmie sad.
When brother and sister-in-law dropped me back at my place this morning after brunch, I couldn't help but cry. My brother is the only person in my family who has meant anything significant to me for such a long time, and it will be ages before I see him again. At least I leave seeing that he has become such a different and better person on so many levels and that he has (albeit obsessively) decided to take his good health into his own hands.
Food won't be killing him anytime soon, and that makes it so much easier for me to float away.
Friday, October 05, 2007
It's definitely a girl!
This photo of the baby is an update at 17 weeks. Hasn't she grown a lot? I am now at 21 weeks and counting, and I leave for Scotland on October 29.
My car is fixed. My visa is in hand. My furniture is sold. My resignation is tendered. My boxes are packed and ship out today. My diabetes is under control with diet and exercise. My credit cards are quickly getting paid. My remaining doctor appointments are made. My medication is filled. My suitcase is packed. I have checked out of my job even though my body is still, technically, here.
Even though the temperature is in the 30s during the day in Scotland right now, I cannot, cannot wait to leave.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Life sucks
To top off all my pains, I just found out this morning that I'm diabetic. I'm going to be paying a visit to a diabetes clinic here where, my OB says, they will likely put me on insulin shots. My glucose levels were high in a one-hour test AND a three-hour test, and I will likely have diabetes even after I give birth.
Something to look forward to...
Something to look forward to...
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Replivaland
Just what I needed. Yet ANOTHER horse pill to take each and every godforsaken morning. And I get to pay $40 a month for the honors! Lucky me...
Leaving on a jet plane
I got my visa.
Goodbye Tallahassee. Goodbye Florida. Goodbye USA. On October 29, I fly.
But first:
There are doctor appointments after doctor appointments.
I found out today not only am I anemic but my blood sugar is also high. So I have to take these prescription pills for the anemia and take some kind of THREE-HOUR test for the blood sugar. I already sat at the stupid blood people's office for almost two hours last week to take this first test! ARGH!
AND I HATE NEEDLES! DOUBLE ARGH!!!!!!!
AND: I have to get my car fixed.
A car accident last week resulted in $2,000 worth of damage to the front end of my car. I was going straight on a two-lane road, and the guy bolted out in front of me from a stop sign on my left. Smash!
So the guy, it turns out, is 32 years old, lives with his mom, is driving his mom's van on his mom's insurance and, you guessed it, doesn't have a job. The cop named him as the violator and said he could either issue a citation right then and go straight through insurance or we could self report giving him a chance to talk to mom and see about paying out of pocket instead of going through insurance.
I let him pick choice number two, to be nice.
Harumph!
Day of accident: I left work early to meet my insurance agent at a body shop and get damage estimates number one and two. Then, I went to see my OB to get an ultrasound and make sure the little one is OK. That's when I learned the baby is most likely a GIRL! Yippee! Everything checked out OK.
Day two: I left work early AGAIN to get damage estimate number three at a body shop of the guy's choosing.
Day three: I left work early YET AGAIN to meet the guy at a McDonald's to give him paper copies of the three estimates. I showed up on time and was sitting inside with said estimates in a folder. The guy showed up 20 minutes late, circled the restaurant twice...and left.
Day four: I arrived at work early to call the guy's insurance company and make a claim.
Day four afternoon: The guy called to see if we could meet later that day for me to give him the estimates. I told him no. He asked if we could meet the next day. I told him that I called his insurance company. He told me he showed up at the restaurant. I said, "I know you did. I watched you circle the building twice and leave."
Jesus. This is why I hate people so very much sometimes.
Goodbye Tallahassee. Goodbye Florida. Goodbye USA. On October 29, I fly.
But first:
There are doctor appointments after doctor appointments.
I found out today not only am I anemic but my blood sugar is also high. So I have to take these prescription pills for the anemia and take some kind of THREE-HOUR test for the blood sugar. I already sat at the stupid blood people's office for almost two hours last week to take this first test! ARGH!
AND I HATE NEEDLES! DOUBLE ARGH!!!!!!!
AND: I have to get my car fixed.
A car accident last week resulted in $2,000 worth of damage to the front end of my car. I was going straight on a two-lane road, and the guy bolted out in front of me from a stop sign on my left. Smash!
So the guy, it turns out, is 32 years old, lives with his mom, is driving his mom's van on his mom's insurance and, you guessed it, doesn't have a job. The cop named him as the violator and said he could either issue a citation right then and go straight through insurance or we could self report giving him a chance to talk to mom and see about paying out of pocket instead of going through insurance.
I let him pick choice number two, to be nice.
Harumph!
Day of accident: I left work early to meet my insurance agent at a body shop and get damage estimates number one and two. Then, I went to see my OB to get an ultrasound and make sure the little one is OK. That's when I learned the baby is most likely a GIRL! Yippee! Everything checked out OK.
Day two: I left work early AGAIN to get damage estimate number three at a body shop of the guy's choosing.
Day three: I left work early YET AGAIN to meet the guy at a McDonald's to give him paper copies of the three estimates. I showed up on time and was sitting inside with said estimates in a folder. The guy showed up 20 minutes late, circled the restaurant twice...and left.
Day four: I arrived at work early to call the guy's insurance company and make a claim.
Day four afternoon: The guy called to see if we could meet later that day for me to give him the estimates. I told him no. He asked if we could meet the next day. I told him that I called his insurance company. He told me he showed up at the restaurant. I said, "I know you did. I watched you circle the building twice and leave."
Jesus. This is why I hate people so very much sometimes.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Our baby
On Monday, I will be 16 weeks pregnant. The night sweats stopped weeks ago, and the all-day nausea is a thing of the past. I still throw up first thing in the morning, but I'll take that any day over constant fatigue and waking up hot and drenched all night. Oh, wait. I wake up all night, now, anyway...to pee.
Here's a photo of our baby taken at 11 weeks. In 4 more weeks, I'll be having another scan and will likely post a photo update.
Here's a photo of our baby taken at 11 weeks. In 4 more weeks, I'll be having another scan and will likely post a photo update.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Test results are in
I anxiously returned the nurse's call Wednesday. She had the results from the blood test that would show if I have a genetic link to Downs. Negative. Bonus!
That result - combined with the result of an ultrasound that showed a normal amount of space at the back of the baby's neck/head - makes the chances that the baby will have Downs the same as any other woman, regardless of age, 1 in 10,000 said the nurse.
At 20 weeks, there will be a second ultrasound. At that time, the specialist will check all the baby's organs and brain and look for signs of spina bifida.
I continue to be nauseous and have been letting my friends in on the secret that pregnancy sucks. I am convinced that any woman who says she in any way enjoys pregnancy is a big, fat fucking liar who is saying what she thinks she needs to say to be a good pre-mom. But it's all bullshit. Pregnancy is a big ball of shit - especially when your husband is 5,000 miles away.
C* is compiling all the documents he needs to submit for the visa. Once I get them, I will apply. I'll probably know by the end of August if I'm going to be allowed to move to the UK or not. We haven't really talked about what we would do if I'm denied a visa. Yet another thing I don't even want to think about.
That result - combined with the result of an ultrasound that showed a normal amount of space at the back of the baby's neck/head - makes the chances that the baby will have Downs the same as any other woman, regardless of age, 1 in 10,000 said the nurse.
At 20 weeks, there will be a second ultrasound. At that time, the specialist will check all the baby's organs and brain and look for signs of spina bifida.
I continue to be nauseous and have been letting my friends in on the secret that pregnancy sucks. I am convinced that any woman who says she in any way enjoys pregnancy is a big, fat fucking liar who is saying what she thinks she needs to say to be a good pre-mom. But it's all bullshit. Pregnancy is a big ball of shit - especially when your husband is 5,000 miles away.
C* is compiling all the documents he needs to submit for the visa. Once I get them, I will apply. I'll probably know by the end of August if I'm going to be allowed to move to the UK or not. We haven't really talked about what we would do if I'm denied a visa. Yet another thing I don't even want to think about.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, July 27, 2007
The Wedding
Day 5 of married life. I can't say things feel much different than they did before. It's still all kind of surreal.
Here's where we got married:
It's the home of my friend, Michael, and it makes a wonderful setting for any party, especially one following a wedding. Outside, there are two acres of fruit trees. Inside, it's like a museum filled with Asian sculptures and furniture. All of my friends, co-workers and bosses were mightily impressed. My sister-in-law thought the house belonged in a magazine.
This was my bouquet:
It was pretty much wilted and destroyed not even two hours after the ceremony. I left it at Michael's house. It's in the garbage or maybe even the dump by now. I guess I'm supposed to save the bouquet, but I'm getting rid of just about everything I own for the move, and I don't need a bunch of dead flowers weighing me down. Does that make me unsentimental? A cur?
The above is a photo of the bride and the groom. I like this photo because half of my face and most of my body are concealed. I don't think I looked very good that day, and I always think I look fat now.
We had a potluck reception. It turned out great, too, because we ended up with a huge table full of delicious food without having to pay a huge catering bill or slave over an oven for days and days. The night before, C* and I cut up some veggies for a veggie tray. The day of, I whipped up an artichoke dip and something called cowboy caviar (a dip with black eyed peas, a variety of veggies, etc), put out some bread and chips and trays of olives, pickles and banana peppers and we were set. No one drank the cheap beer we bought, so we returned it to the store the next day and got our money back.
The following is a sweet photo of C* and I after the ceremony. We stood in front of everyone for what felt like forever so everyone could snap photos. It was quite embarrassing. I didn't quite know what to do with myself.
And here's a photo of the whole clan. My brother and sis-in-law are on the left, then my dad, then C*, then me, my stepmom and C*'s brother:
Here's where we got married:
It's the home of my friend, Michael, and it makes a wonderful setting for any party, especially one following a wedding. Outside, there are two acres of fruit trees. Inside, it's like a museum filled with Asian sculptures and furniture. All of my friends, co-workers and bosses were mightily impressed. My sister-in-law thought the house belonged in a magazine.
This was my bouquet:
It was pretty much wilted and destroyed not even two hours after the ceremony. I left it at Michael's house. It's in the garbage or maybe even the dump by now. I guess I'm supposed to save the bouquet, but I'm getting rid of just about everything I own for the move, and I don't need a bunch of dead flowers weighing me down. Does that make me unsentimental? A cur?
The above is a photo of the bride and the groom. I like this photo because half of my face and most of my body are concealed. I don't think I looked very good that day, and I always think I look fat now.
We had a potluck reception. It turned out great, too, because we ended up with a huge table full of delicious food without having to pay a huge catering bill or slave over an oven for days and days. The night before, C* and I cut up some veggies for a veggie tray. The day of, I whipped up an artichoke dip and something called cowboy caviar (a dip with black eyed peas, a variety of veggies, etc), put out some bread and chips and trays of olives, pickles and banana peppers and we were set. No one drank the cheap beer we bought, so we returned it to the store the next day and got our money back.
The following is a sweet photo of C* and I after the ceremony. We stood in front of everyone for what felt like forever so everyone could snap photos. It was quite embarrassing. I didn't quite know what to do with myself.
And here's a photo of the whole clan. My brother and sis-in-law are on the left, then my dad, then C*, then me, my stepmom and C*'s brother:
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
First ultrasound
My first ultrasound was scheduled for Monday. Before the doctor's visit, I stood puking over my bathroom sink. I'm nauseous every day, but I hadn't vomited in days and I chalked this up to nerves. I'm already huge, and I was fearing twins or more. Plus, I hadn't yet seen what was actually inside there, and I was afraid it was some huge misshapen monster-like creature, already fully grown and sporting head-to-toe fur.
I was wrong.
There's a little baby in there. About 4 centimeters long, the ultrasound lady said. I saw them clearly: the head, the body, the two arms waving and the two legs kicking as if he or she were doing the backstroke. It was all at once amazing and terrifying. It's our baby. And we heard the heartbeat. Nice and strong. About 175 beats per minute. That's all we know about the health of it for now.
I have an appointment with a genetic specialist next Monday who will begin a round of bloodlettings to see if there's a high(er) risk for certain genetic diseases. This is another part of it all that terrifies me. I don't want to obsess, and for the most part I don't. But sometimes I have these strange doubts, these strange, horrible feelings that I could never produce anything healthy.
But I know I shouldn't think that way. It's just the negative part of my brain gaining the upper hand.
I was wrong.
There's a little baby in there. About 4 centimeters long, the ultrasound lady said. I saw them clearly: the head, the body, the two arms waving and the two legs kicking as if he or she were doing the backstroke. It was all at once amazing and terrifying. It's our baby. And we heard the heartbeat. Nice and strong. About 175 beats per minute. That's all we know about the health of it for now.
I have an appointment with a genetic specialist next Monday who will begin a round of bloodlettings to see if there's a high(er) risk for certain genetic diseases. This is another part of it all that terrifies me. I don't want to obsess, and for the most part I don't. But sometimes I have these strange doubts, these strange, horrible feelings that I could never produce anything healthy.
But I know I shouldn't think that way. It's just the negative part of my brain gaining the upper hand.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Yawn!
I'm tired, and I've just woken up from a nap. C* and I had breakfast with my brother and sister-in-law and are now getting ready to take his brother bowling. So I'll just give a tiny update from yesterday. I'm a married woman now, and here is a copy of The Big Words that were spoken at 7 p.m. yesterday as thunder and lightning and a dark sky threatened to cut our brief ceremony even shorter.
Glenna:
When two people are at one
in their innermost hearts
they shatter even the strength of iron or bronze
And when two people understand each other
in their innermost hearts
their words are sweet and strong
like the fragrance of orchids.
(pause)
C* and maarmie, you may now exchange vows.
C*:
I promise to give you, maarmie, the best of myself
and to ask of you no more than you can give.
I promise to respect you as your own person
and to realize that your interests, desires, and needs
are no less important than my own.
I promise to keep myself open to you,
to share with you my thoughts, my feelings, and my dreams.
And I promise to grow along with you,
to face, together, life's changes and to love you through good and bad.
I will laugh with you in times of joy and comfort you in times of sorrow
I will share in your triumphs and support you as you strive to achieve
I will listen to you with compassion and understanding
and speak to you with encouragement
To you, maarmie, I will forever remain faithful.
(C* puts ring on maarmie's finger.)
With this ring, I thee wed.
maarmie:
I promise to give you, C*, the best of myself
and to ask of you no more than you can give.
I promise to respect you as your own person
and to realize that your interests, desires, and needs
are no less important than my own.
I promise to keep myself open to you,
to share with you my thoughts, my feelings, and my dreams.
And I promise to grow along with you,
to face, together, life's changes and to love you through good and bad.
I will laugh with you in times of joy and comfort you in times of sorrow
I will share in your triumphs and support you as you strive to achieve
I will listen to you with compassion and understanding
and speak to you with encouragement
To you, C*, I will forever remain faithful.
(maarmie puts ring on C*'s finger.)
With this ring, I thee wed.
Glenna:
I, by virtue of authority vested under the laws of the State of Florida, now pronounce you husband and wife.
Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other.
Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other.
Now there will be no loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other.
Now you are two persons, but there is only one life before you.
May beauty surround you both in the journey ahead and through all the years.
May happiness be your companion and your days together be good and long upon the earth.
You may kiss.
I now present Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
Glenna:
When two people are at one
in their innermost hearts
they shatter even the strength of iron or bronze
And when two people understand each other
in their innermost hearts
their words are sweet and strong
like the fragrance of orchids.
(pause)
C* and maarmie, you may now exchange vows.
C*:
I promise to give you, maarmie, the best of myself
and to ask of you no more than you can give.
I promise to respect you as your own person
and to realize that your interests, desires, and needs
are no less important than my own.
I promise to keep myself open to you,
to share with you my thoughts, my feelings, and my dreams.
And I promise to grow along with you,
to face, together, life's changes and to love you through good and bad.
I will laugh with you in times of joy and comfort you in times of sorrow
I will share in your triumphs and support you as you strive to achieve
I will listen to you with compassion and understanding
and speak to you with encouragement
To you, maarmie, I will forever remain faithful.
(C* puts ring on maarmie's finger.)
With this ring, I thee wed.
maarmie:
I promise to give you, C*, the best of myself
and to ask of you no more than you can give.
I promise to respect you as your own person
and to realize that your interests, desires, and needs
are no less important than my own.
I promise to keep myself open to you,
to share with you my thoughts, my feelings, and my dreams.
And I promise to grow along with you,
to face, together, life's changes and to love you through good and bad.
I will laugh with you in times of joy and comfort you in times of sorrow
I will share in your triumphs and support you as you strive to achieve
I will listen to you with compassion and understanding
and speak to you with encouragement
To you, C*, I will forever remain faithful.
(maarmie puts ring on C*'s finger.)
With this ring, I thee wed.
Glenna:
I, by virtue of authority vested under the laws of the State of Florida, now pronounce you husband and wife.
Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other.
Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other.
Now there will be no loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other.
Now you are two persons, but there is only one life before you.
May beauty surround you both in the journey ahead and through all the years.
May happiness be your companion and your days together be good and long upon the earth.
You may kiss.
I now present Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Wedding march
In about 21 hours, I will be a married woman.
The rings are bought, the vows are written, the veggies are chopped, the dress is pressed and the flowers and candles are picked out. All that's left is to make a couple of dips, pick up the cake and assemble some food trays. What a relief tomorrow night will be when the vows have been read, the people have all eaten and the hoopla will be over. I'm looking forward to just settling in at my apartment with C* and watching a movie or something.
It's like we've been a married couple for years already. And that's not a bad thing at all, I must say.
The rings are bought, the vows are written, the veggies are chopped, the dress is pressed and the flowers and candles are picked out. All that's left is to make a couple of dips, pick up the cake and assemble some food trays. What a relief tomorrow night will be when the vows have been read, the people have all eaten and the hoopla will be over. I'm looking forward to just settling in at my apartment with C* and watching a movie or something.
It's like we've been a married couple for years already. And that's not a bad thing at all, I must say.
Monday, July 16, 2007
10 weeks and counting
I had my first prenatal appointment at my OB/GYN's office this morning, then I gave blood to see if I carry the cystic fibrosis gene.
Because I am so old and decrepit, I am also being referred to a genetic specialist who will scare me into doing all kinds of tests to see if my baby is at risk of spina bifida, Down Syndrome and other horrible genetic diseases that would make me run out and have an abortion if I thought there was a serious chance my baby would have them.
And because I am so hugely fat (I weight 201!), I will be tested for my susceptibility to gestational disbetes. Lucky for me, my blood sugar has always been on the low side.
Sigh!
I have my first exam and ultrasound a week from today. I'm excited, but nervous. I've been told that, considering my size at 10 weeks, twins are a possibility. I told C* about this and he was ecstatic. Get it all over with at once, he said. "What makes you think I want more than one child?" I asked him. Argh!
At this moment, C* is in a plane hurtling over over the Atlantic Ocean. I can't wait to see him.
Because I am so old and decrepit, I am also being referred to a genetic specialist who will scare me into doing all kinds of tests to see if my baby is at risk of spina bifida, Down Syndrome and other horrible genetic diseases that would make me run out and have an abortion if I thought there was a serious chance my baby would have them.
And because I am so hugely fat (I weight 201!), I will be tested for my susceptibility to gestational disbetes. Lucky for me, my blood sugar has always been on the low side.
Sigh!
I have my first exam and ultrasound a week from today. I'm excited, but nervous. I've been told that, considering my size at 10 weeks, twins are a possibility. I told C* about this and he was ecstatic. Get it all over with at once, he said. "What makes you think I want more than one child?" I asked him. Argh!
At this moment, C* is in a plane hurtling over over the Atlantic Ocean. I can't wait to see him.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Interesting observation
It's interesting how a wedding can bring out the worst in people you thought were your friends, how some kind of fucked up issue in their own heads can stop them from being happy for you for even a minute.
But like one of my coworkers says, most people don't give a damn about anyone. Just be glad for the people in your life who do.
But like one of my coworkers says, most people don't give a damn about anyone. Just be glad for the people in your life who do.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Numb-ers
11 - I will be married in 11 days.
8 - I am eight weeks pregnant.
2 - This is the second day I have gone without a cigarette.
24 - The number of hours I have had a headache.
6 - C* will be here in six days.
14 - C* will be here for two weeks.
40 - The approximate number of guests attending the wedding.
2 - The number of out-of-town friends who are making the journey.
5 - The number of family members who are coming.
1 - The number of family members I actually WANT to be there.
Only 11 days to go, and we still need to write our vows, finalize what we're going to wear, get the marriage license, buy some rings, finalize decorations (we still need flowers) and find out what everyone is planning on bringing for the potluck reception. We need to remember to pick up the cake, get some ice and make and bring some food. In the meantime, we need to entertain C*'s brother (coming in the day after C*) and make time for the beach. And not just any beach. Destin.
I won't let C* and his brother leave without a day-long trip to Destin, only the most beautiful beach in Florida. The water is clear as clear can be, and swimmers regularly spot dolphins and stingrays gliding through the surf. The sand is white and fine. And it's the perfect time to go, especially considering I own a big beach umbrella that will shade me from the misery that is a Florida summer.
8 - I am eight weeks pregnant.
2 - This is the second day I have gone without a cigarette.
24 - The number of hours I have had a headache.
6 - C* will be here in six days.
14 - C* will be here for two weeks.
40 - The approximate number of guests attending the wedding.
2 - The number of out-of-town friends who are making the journey.
5 - The number of family members who are coming.
1 - The number of family members I actually WANT to be there.
Only 11 days to go, and we still need to write our vows, finalize what we're going to wear, get the marriage license, buy some rings, finalize decorations (we still need flowers) and find out what everyone is planning on bringing for the potluck reception. We need to remember to pick up the cake, get some ice and make and bring some food. In the meantime, we need to entertain C*'s brother (coming in the day after C*) and make time for the beach. And not just any beach. Destin.
I won't let C* and his brother leave without a day-long trip to Destin, only the most beautiful beach in Florida. The water is clear as clear can be, and swimmers regularly spot dolphins and stingrays gliding through the surf. The sand is white and fine. And it's the perfect time to go, especially considering I own a big beach umbrella that will shade me from the misery that is a Florida summer.
Monday, July 02, 2007
This is the best I can do?
Mingle squared gave my blog an R rating.
I think I can do much better than that.
Mingle2
I think I can do much better than that.
My pregnancy so far
Changes in my body abound in this 8th or 9th week of pregnancy, and most of it has been negative.
The pains in both sides of my abdomen have largely ceased (the doctor calls them "growing pains"), but my breasts are sore, my nipples are constantly hard, I often suffer night sweats and have trouble sleeping, I'm ALWAYS tired, I throw up about twice a day, I'm sometimes cranky and I'm incessently worried that I'm not eating healthy enough, that the cigarettes I've had have done irreparable harm, that I won't be a good enough mother, ad infinitum.
The up side is that the mood swings I have so far suffered haven't seemed to be any worse than my normal ups and downs. I stopped taking my anti-depressants, though, and, now that I've stopped smoking, it'll be interesting to see how my mood shifts from day to day, hour to hour and minute to minute. Already, C* has valiently withstood crying jags that have come from nowehere. I must say, he has handled me well so far. I hope the trend continues, and it's nice to know that I have an understanding partner to lean on when the hormones surge.
Baby names. We've had talks about them the last couple of days. Here's what we've come up with so far.
Girl names
Arley
Avery
Caitlan - means "pure"
Fallyn - means "in charge"
Hannah - means "grace"
Hunter - we've been thinking "Hunter Fallyn" for the first and middle names
Niamh (pronounced Nieve) - means "bright"
Nieve - means "snowy"
Boy names
Aeary - means "scholar"
Archer
Calder
Fallon - means "of a ruling family"
Flannery - means "descendant of the red warrior"
Fuller - means "cloth bleacher"
Harlow - means "from the mound of the people"
Nevan - means "holy"
I'm of a mind to find out if it's a boy or a girl well before it even thinks about being born. I want a girl, but, like I told the lady who had me fill out my paperwork at the eye doctor the other day, I won't put it up for adoption if it's a boy.
C* told The Boy about my pregnancy today. When he called me this morning, he said, "The Boy has something he wants to ask you."
"Okay," I replied suspiciously.
The Boy got on the phone. "Dad says you have a baby inside you. Do you?"
"Yes, I do," I replied.
The responding *gulp* was almost audible on the phone after which The Boy offered a hurried "OK" before practically throwing the phone back at his father.
"What did she say," I heard C* ask him in the background.
"She said, 'Yes, I do.' "
"He didn't believe me when I told him," C* revealed.
The Boy immediately asked if he could play video games on the computer. Were they his escape, or was he just not bothered? I'd be inclined to say he wasn't bothered, but you never know what's going through the mind of a young boy just after he finds out he's going to be a big brother.
C* will be here two weeks from tomorrow. The wedding is in just under three. I went dress hunting yesterday and was appalled at my dress size and the lack of anything tasteful-yet-fun-yet-not-too-revealing to wear for the wedding. The style of dress that I think would be most flattering is the babydoll style with wide sleeves, a high waistline and a full skirt that comes to the knee or just above. Kind of a modern hippie-style thing would suit me well. I found three of those at the mall yesterday that would have been good except for certain things wrong with each one.
One came in peacock colors that fit well in the tummy, arms and chest but needed to be about five inches longer. The thing barely came below my butt! Not good for a wedding.
Another one was dark in color with a nice pattern and length but fit poorly in the tummy and chest.
The third was just my style but not my size. They could order something closer to it from another store, but I'd have to pay for it up front and return it if it doesn't fit. Sounds like a hassle, but might be my only choice. I'm going to have a look around every day this week during lunch. I'm pretty flexible on what I'll wear. Could be a skirt and shirt, could be a dress. It just has to not make me look as fat as I am, and it has to be tasteful. Is that too much to ask?
The pains in both sides of my abdomen have largely ceased (the doctor calls them "growing pains"), but my breasts are sore, my nipples are constantly hard, I often suffer night sweats and have trouble sleeping, I'm ALWAYS tired, I throw up about twice a day, I'm sometimes cranky and I'm incessently worried that I'm not eating healthy enough, that the cigarettes I've had have done irreparable harm, that I won't be a good enough mother, ad infinitum.
The up side is that the mood swings I have so far suffered haven't seemed to be any worse than my normal ups and downs. I stopped taking my anti-depressants, though, and, now that I've stopped smoking, it'll be interesting to see how my mood shifts from day to day, hour to hour and minute to minute. Already, C* has valiently withstood crying jags that have come from nowehere. I must say, he has handled me well so far. I hope the trend continues, and it's nice to know that I have an understanding partner to lean on when the hormones surge.
Baby names. We've had talks about them the last couple of days. Here's what we've come up with so far.
Girl names
Arley
Avery
Caitlan - means "pure"
Fallyn - means "in charge"
Hannah - means "grace"
Hunter - we've been thinking "Hunter Fallyn" for the first and middle names
Niamh (pronounced Nieve) - means "bright"
Nieve - means "snowy"
Boy names
Aeary - means "scholar"
Archer
Calder
Fallon - means "of a ruling family"
Flannery - means "descendant of the red warrior"
Fuller - means "cloth bleacher"
Harlow - means "from the mound of the people"
Nevan - means "holy"
I'm of a mind to find out if it's a boy or a girl well before it even thinks about being born. I want a girl, but, like I told the lady who had me fill out my paperwork at the eye doctor the other day, I won't put it up for adoption if it's a boy.
C* told The Boy about my pregnancy today. When he called me this morning, he said, "The Boy has something he wants to ask you."
"Okay," I replied suspiciously.
The Boy got on the phone. "Dad says you have a baby inside you. Do you?"
"Yes, I do," I replied.
The responding *gulp* was almost audible on the phone after which The Boy offered a hurried "OK" before practically throwing the phone back at his father.
"What did she say," I heard C* ask him in the background.
"She said, 'Yes, I do.' "
"He didn't believe me when I told him," C* revealed.
The Boy immediately asked if he could play video games on the computer. Were they his escape, or was he just not bothered? I'd be inclined to say he wasn't bothered, but you never know what's going through the mind of a young boy just after he finds out he's going to be a big brother.
C* will be here two weeks from tomorrow. The wedding is in just under three. I went dress hunting yesterday and was appalled at my dress size and the lack of anything tasteful-yet-fun-yet-not-too-revealing to wear for the wedding. The style of dress that I think would be most flattering is the babydoll style with wide sleeves, a high waistline and a full skirt that comes to the knee or just above. Kind of a modern hippie-style thing would suit me well. I found three of those at the mall yesterday that would have been good except for certain things wrong with each one.
One came in peacock colors that fit well in the tummy, arms and chest but needed to be about five inches longer. The thing barely came below my butt! Not good for a wedding.
Another one was dark in color with a nice pattern and length but fit poorly in the tummy and chest.
The third was just my style but not my size. They could order something closer to it from another store, but I'd have to pay for it up front and return it if it doesn't fit. Sounds like a hassle, but might be my only choice. I'm going to have a look around every day this week during lunch. I'm pretty flexible on what I'll wear. Could be a skirt and shirt, could be a dress. It just has to not make me look as fat as I am, and it has to be tasteful. Is that too much to ask?
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