We sure never did *this* at a wedding before!


Here are Melle and Stephe swinging at Jenne's wedding. But were we being rude? Oh, no. The bride herself started swinging first. What else can you expect at a wedding with Lebanese food, cheesecakes, Irish musicians (and ceili dancing, to my eternal delight!), a pre-wedding reception, a bride in a blue evening gown, and a candlelit ceremony up on a hill at 10 p.m.? Oh, and no wedding party, but 12 ladies-in-waiting, of which I was one, that preceded the bride holding candles and singing a capella (and who also frantically gathered flowers from obliging roadsides and arranged them hours before the wedding).

(note: Jenny Pierce married David Frederick in Portland, OR on June 25, 2005 and it was an absolutely marvelous occasion! Melissa, Jenny and I go back to junior high, though we currently live in OR, IL and Russia).

Stress

Today has been a very, very stressful day. There are a variety of reasons. My emotions have run the gamut from sobbing to hilarity. It was a day of sadness, frustration, anger, excitement, fun, nervousness, concentration, fear, and satisfaction. And it began with a wonderfully peaceful prayer time. I guess God knew I would need it!

This does not happen very often. I don't know if I've ever felt so beat up before...not crossing my mind and my body.

Every muscle in my body is tense. I need to sleep, but fear my mind won't let me.

I exercised, now I am going to relax.

No doubt this is a waste of space...but it feels rather cathartic to vent.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, with prayer and thanksgiving, let your requests be known to God. And the peace of Christ, which passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Phil. 4: something or other

Flashback: Rhi's wedding

Rohit and I just before we saw Tom Brokaw.


I don't have a digital camera, so just for fun I'm going to upload some photos from my life that make me giggle. I'll include the stories.

My friend Rhianna was married two years ago, and I was a bridesmaid. This is Rohit, the guy I "walked" with. The groom is from Sri Lanka and all of the groomsmen are international students. The funny thing about Rohit (who I said a total of about 20 words to and who I had to *drag* onto the dance floor--all the guys wanted to be in the bar) is that, back during our senior year of college, he was supposed to be a blind date for a Mississippi River cruise party. But the cruise was canceled because of flooding, so we never met. Rhi took one last time at setting us up at the wedding.

I couldn't believe it when the best man told me, in a very drunken slur, that Tom Brokaw was in the bar. (The reception was at the very posh St. Paul Hotel in Minnesota). I went in, and sure enough, there was Tom Brokaw, having a drink. I just gaped.

Then the best man told me, "I talked to Tom Brokaw."
"You did?" I gasped. "What did you say?"
"I said, 'Tom, you are a sexy b****!"
"You did not," I said. "What did Tom say back?"
The best man swayed slightly.
"He said, 'You are drunk.'"

Later that night, I (being completely sober) was sitting on a bench outside the hotel waiting for the valet to bring my car. With me was the emcee, a guy about my age I was going to drive home. As we waited, a busload of tourists fell off. They'd been at an Irish festival and were also very drunk. One of them lobbed towards me to crown me with a shamrock headdress, and saw my dress and the two bouquets.

"You were at a wedding?" she called. "Why do you have two bouquets?"
"I caught the bride's bouqet," I said.
"Uh, oh," she giggled. "There's going to be another wedding. Wait!!!"
And she proceeded to point from me to Jeff (the emcee, whom I'd just met) and giggle even more loudly.
"You and him, you and him! You're going to get married! Invite me to your wedding!!!"
As Jeff and I looked at each other horrified and tried to explain that we were *not* getting married, the woman shrieked, "Why did you steal my crown?" tore it off my head, and tottered back into the hotel.

The Bouquet Toss

Oh, no! PROOF!!!!

When I saw that Rhianna was going to toss a bouquet of real red roses (not some crappy fake flower thing) I decided I wanted them. Especially since I was already carrying champagne roses with pink rosebuds in them. I also decided that, as the only single girl in the bridal party, I might as well go for the bouquet.

When Rhi stood up to toss the bouquet, she lobbed it so hard, it sailed over the heads of all of the females waiting, across the room, and towards a table at the back. (I might add that Rhi met her husband, Noel, on a track team where they were both shot putters.) A woman stood up and caught it, shrieking, "I got it, I got it!" (Note: She was from India and didn't understand the rules.) Then a man stood up and yelled, "You can't have that! You're married and I'm your husband!" Before anyone could figure out what to do, the lady stood on a chair with her back to the crowd, as she'd seen Rhianna just do, and tossed the bouquet. She threw it so hard, it sailed back across the room and landed .... in the arms of the very surprised DJ.

"I guess it's my turn," he said, and hopped onto a chair and threw the thing before anyone else could react. I saw it coming towards me, I remembered the recent games of (tackle) football I'd been playing lately, and got under it. I caught the bouquet and shrieked and then Rhianna grabbed me in a huge bear hug and hauled me across the room as we laughed and laughed. "You got it!" she exclaimed. "Finally! I was aiming for you!"
"It was fate,"I said. "It just fell into my arms."
A woman at a table near us snorted.
"Yes, after you tackled two 8-year-olds to get it," she said.
"I did not," I said, honestly thinking I was telling the truth. "I didn't knock anyone over."

About two weeks later, Rhianna emailed me this photo. Oops. Sorry, flower girls!

Here is the classic "girls under the veil" photo. Rhianna, a wonderful college friend, was married almost exactly two years ago and right now she and her husband are expecting their first baby! 

I still don't know how to get a photo on my profile. But while you're waiting with bated breath, check out this pic from my friend Sara's July 2 birthday party. Sara's got the blue poncho, my best friend since 7th grade Carmen is in the blue shirt, and Hillary, Maxx and Steve are also all brightening up the room. 

Saying No

I said no to driving someone home because I knew I would be tired of driving.
I said no to social activities to stay home to rest.
I said no to helping with an outreach event, even though I used to be very involved with the group, because there are others now doing it and I need to conserve my resources for my small group.
I said no to participating in an online discussion board because I don't have time and I don't really fit in with those people anyway.
I said no to going out to lunch because I didn't have money and I wanted to be alone.

It all feels good.

Maybe I am actually making progress here.

my brain hurts

Why is my personal info down at the bottom?

I have to do dishes, pay bills, plan money, record my budget, find new car insurance, organize my desk, clean out Creative Memories stuff from the closet, work on the latest issue of Salt (soliciting submissions and editing them), write the intercession guide, get plans made for Transform, buy my mom's plane ticket here ... oh and did I mention work?

Something still is not right in my life. Why is there always so much to do?

Tough. I'm going to veg out with my new book.

Captivating

(This is one of the four "sample pictures" that come with the computer. I only have two in there right now and I already posted both of them. I decided I needed art on the page, so voila! Plus, this photo is what I desire right now in this hot summer of extreme drought and yellowed foilage).

So far, I'm liking it.

Several people have recommended to me the book "Captivating" by Stasi and John Eldredge. I was a bit iffy about starting it, since they contend the essence of the feminine soul is about three things: romance, adventure and unveiling beauty. I know that's true in most lives (including mine) but I shrink from gender stereotypes.

However, I've enjoyed the book quite a lot so far (two chapters in). Shanel urged me to be honest while reading it, and I'm finding what I like most about it is whenever the authors talk about a feminine trait, they talk about how it reveals the heart of God. I also like the idea that woman was created not as afterthought or someone to keep Adam busy, but as the zenith, the apex, the crown of all creation. After woman, God stopped.

Another non-fiction book I'm enjoying is "The Pursuit of God in the Company of Friends" by Richard Lamb. It's already proving applicable and helpful to my own life as well as inspiration for my women's group, Transform. I love what Lamb suggests as an antithesis for this title: "The Pursuit of Nothing in Particular While All Alone." He's right. The first is much more appealing.

Am so tired I can't think straight and am making typing mistakes. But it's only 9:43. 17 minutes till bedtime!

Incidentally, my last two nights with Abby passed uneventfully, unless you count the discomfort of having two dogs, a poodle and a lab, jostling for position on your bed, both trying to be as close to you as possible. Last night Pamba won out, claiming the left side of my face and shoulder (He had to have his back pushed against me as he slept). And Abby decided to sleep the crook of my legs, so whenever I switched sides, she flopped over and curled herself into the back of my legs and put her nose on my foot. Awwwwwwww!!!! I don't think I could endure this every night, but it was cute once or twice. It's so weird, by the way, to be so completely adored by a creature. That dog loves me so much and I can't figure out why (Well, I did suggest to Alison that they take her home from the pound, help with her training and take her out a lot while I lived there. But that was a long time ago!). This morning, though, as I was waking up and Abby was snuggling up to me so eagerly, her eyes watching mine for a sign of approval, her nose resting in my hands, I thought, "Is this the way God loves me? This is strange. But flattering."

How to Be Awake at 1:30 a.m. or Stupid Dog!

I'm dogsitting for two dogs, my roommate's miniature white poodle Pamba, and a black lab mix called Abby, who belongs to the family I used to live with. Abby really is like my own dog, so I have no qualms about letting her sleep on my bed, although of course she tries to sleep smack dab in the middle so I'm curled around the edges, but Pamba does that, too and he's tiny.

I became rather restless around 1:30 a.m. last night because I woke up to hear Abby's claws clicking on the wood floors as she walked back and forth from my bed to the kitchen. I couldn't understand why she wasn't sleeping and she finally leapt back onto my bed, this time on the right side and stretched herself along the edge, pushing me towards the middle. That's when I discovered part of the bed was wet. My horrified mind smelled the moisture on my hand, but it didn't smell like urine, so I concluded she'd just got a drink of water and was, as usual, dribbling it all over. Then I realized that I was lying in a giant puddle and that my pajamas were soaked. YUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As you can imagine, that woke me up very quickly. The stupid dog had peed in the bed. I'm lucky it was mostly water, I guess, but the first thing I did was march her down the three flights of back stairs and into the alley so she could relieve herself, all the while trying to hold my wet t-shirt and shorts out from me and muttering threats and telling her, "Next time, ASK and I will let you out! I won't like it, but I'll do it." Then I marched her back upstairs, scolded her and dragged in a dog bed for her to sleep on and stripped the bed. Luckily, the sheets and mattress pad caught most of the moisture, and I was able to blot up the little that was on the mattress. Did I mention the spot was right in the middle, just below the pillow? Stupid dog!

I then had to find mismatched top sheets for a twin bed in the linen closet so I could spread them over my double, now lamenting the fact that I'd put off getting another set of double sheets. I spread the top sheet and then realized it was my roommate's duvet comforter. More muttering, more stomping around until I finally found the right sheet. Then, I remembered that I was in pjs dripping with dog pee. Can I even describe to you how truly disgusting this is? I had to take a shower and, of course, put on new pajamas. Then I laid curled up along the side of the bed, away from the spot, ignoring the whining from Abby on the floor and thought dire thoughts about the ungratefulness of animals.

But now it's morning, the heat and humidity has finally broken, it's Friday, and the two dogs are sleeping peacefully at my feet (on my bed, I might add). I'm still a little mad, but mostly resigned. Can I help it that I'm a pushover for big eyes and a cute little puppy nose?