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Saturday, October 19, 2002

Sara: Still sick

Ack. Looks like I'm now going to have a chest cold. I'm hopped up on NyQuil. Dennis has been taking very good care of me, and I see this as the Weekend of Sleeping.

Mom and Dad left this morning. They're headed for the Grand Canyon next. We had such a fun visit, although it would have been better if I hadn't gotten sick!

Gratuitous linkage: A clueful bride's diary!
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Sara: The Internet and The Sick Person and Her Hair

So, what's a sick girl to do but cruise the wedding message boards? Oh my. I have seen some horrible spelling (the word is ALTAR, kids, unless you're talking about your dress), some terrifying mercenary brides (if I see one more post about 'cheap guests' not forking over big gifts, well....), and mostly I've just been kind of bored with the whole thing. I think I really am Over the boards. It's bad when you can skim through the subject lines and guess exactly what those 10 responses say - and be correct every time. Sigh. Of course, I'm also unable to muster a lot of enthusiasm for, you know, anything right now as I wait for my lungs to decide to work again. So maybe I'm just cranky.

I've also been surfing around looking at headpieces. Gack. I have no idea what I'm going to put on my head. I know I don't want a veil, but beyond that...?

I should probably figure out what's going on with my hair. Currently, my hair is just below my shoulders (it was much longer until a few weeks ago, due to apathy) and is a nice warm reddish brown color (and not it's natural hamster color). I'm thinking that it will stay this way until May. As I mentioned a few months back (what, you haven't been taking notes?) I have straight hair. Really really straight hair. A zero on the Kinsey Scale. I figure I should go with straight hair for the wedding, since it's not about to take a curl without the use of small-scale tactical explosives.

For wedding 1.0, my hair was just above my shoulders, and I wore the top pulled back with a comb my florist made and a veil. That was very simple, and I still looked like myself. Since I never wear my hair up (due to incompetence) I don't think I should start with the wedding.

I should probably just go and try on a bucket of headpieces and see what I like. If I can find something that can be made with peridot crystals, I might even break down and just buy the darn thing. I'm behind on making my dress and I'm starting to think about outsourcing a few items. Right now, I think I want a headband, nothing overly flashy or ornate. I like beads and twisted wire more than rhinestones.

If I wait too long, I can always just throw some flowers in my hair and call it done.
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Friday, October 18, 2002

Sara: Sicky

Sigh. I have a horrid horrid head cold. I thought I was going to work today when I got out of bed, but Dennis found me all curled up on the floor in the shower because I was too miserable to stand up. So, he put me back in bed and I'm not at work today.

Last night, we had a get-together for my parents and my friends and Dennis' mom and grandparents. It wasn't at our place, fortunately, because that would have driven me mad. Ryan and Jon let us borrow their house. It all went very well, although I was starting to feel lousy and congested about halfway through the party. By then, though, there was enough wine floating around that everyone was pretty cheery. I know such fabulous people.

The parental units got along well, so there's one anxiety dealt with.

The Martha-esque doily luminaria that Ryan and I made last week were simply lovely. It was very windy, so we used pint glasses with tea lights in the bottom inside the bags, and they stayed lit.

I can no longer get away with my 'I was raised by hamsters in the woods' story as I now have verifiable parents. Much discussion of how alike my mom and I are, which always cracks me up since we're not genetically linked at all, we're just both members of the MoonPie Face Club with a fondness for the color green and a weird sense of humor. I sometimes wonder if I'm going to find out that the whole adoption story was a hoax, that they just did it to make me feel special or something. Although that would mean that I share a gene pool with some of their stranger relatives. My brother and I used to make mom & dad so angry when we'd spend the whole trip back from visits chanting 'Not My Gene Pool' in the back seat of the car.
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Sara: God is driving the bus, and it's the short bus.

I've been going through some spiritual turmoil lately. I know some of the people who read this sort of roll their eyes when I go off on this stuff, so feel free to skip it.

If I had to name my biggest struggle this year, I'd say it has been getting my head and heart around the idea that I am NOT in charge of this life that I've been given. God is driving the bus, not me. Which I cannot express better than Anne Lamott did here:

If you're at all like me, you're torn between really wanting to know what God's will is for you, and just desperately wanting this one thing to happen, this one thing to turn out this one particular way. And you keep feeling this, even though you remember the amazing scene at the end of The Mission, where the warrior, played by Robert DeNiro, comes to see the priest, Jeremy Irons, to seek his blessing in the battle ahead, and the priest says, "If what you are about to do is God's will, then you don't need my blessing. And if it's not, then my blessing isn't going to help."

You remember that and still: You frantically want the guy to call; you want the project to be a huge success; you want the authorities to let your brother off the hook. Whatever. A small part of you, a crescent moon-shaped part of you, wants to be in alignment with God's will, because you have reason to believe that you are fucked unto the Lord if you somehow get your own will to prevail. But a louder part of you secretly believes that you alone know what the best possible outcome would be, for all parties concerned, even with a lifetime of evidence to the contrary. And you are prepared to use the sheer force of your personality and character to get it to happen.

Read the whole thing you'll be glad you did.

Dealing with the fact that things are going to happen in God's Time, and not Sara's Time (which tends to be on fast-forward) drives me completely batshit. If I accept that the timetable isn't in my hands, I might also have to believe that the journey is as important as the destination, and then I might be able to kick back and put my feet up on the bus seats and enjoy it, and golly, where would that leave me in Silicon Valley at the dawn of the 21st century?

Lately, God has been tugging me in a potentially difficult and awkward direction, so I girded me loins and prepared for battle. And it wasn't needed. Things fell into place, other people are already on the same page. Because - important concept here - if it's really God's will, He is going to line things up to make it happen. Seriously, I just hadn't picked up on that before. Which is why I think I'm on the short bus with the slow kids.

Remember that really annoying Joan Osborne song that was inescapable a few years back?

If God had a face, what would it look like?
And would you want to see
if seeing meant that you would have to believe
in things like heaven and in Jesus and the saints
and all the prophets?

That's kind of where I am right now - I've had a lesson in capital-F Faith. I've seen God directly intervene to get me where He wants me, and now - crap - what else does that mean? Jesus-on-a-rhinestone-sweatshirt, I'm totally fucked. If I accept that my life belongs to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, in accordance with all evidence, what is going to be asked of me next?

Up until now, I haven't really taken up my cross. I mean, it's been there, maybe in the trunk of my car (all sorts of things are in the trunk of my car) or someplace close by where I can get to it when needed, but most of the time, I'm sort of half-carrying it at best - I think I have the model that has wheels on the end, like a carry-on suitcase. It's following along behind me, but it sort of glides along and doesn't place a lot of demands. And sometimes I drop it by the side of the road and forget about it for a while. What will it mean to take off those training wheels?
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Sara: Cook's Corner

Check out Cook's Corner over at JamBase, written by the Dennis. He's been doing such great work lately with all this music writing. I love seeing him so happy!
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Thursday, October 17, 2002

Sara: I'm a Fairy Princess!

Dennis helped me pick some of the new Cavalcade of Bad Bridal Fashion selections I posted earlier this week, and as we were cruising the dress gallery at The Knot, he suddenly stopped and said, "Wait! This is all about being a fairy princess, isn't it?!?"

I can't decide if I should be disturbed that it took him so long to figure it all out. It's like the whole wedding planning process takes place behind a big white satin curtain, and we keep the whole thing from the male half of the species. 'Weddings aren't for you, silly boy. Just show up wearing what I tell you to wear.' Does it have to be like this?
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Monday, October 14, 2002

Sara: "amusing" and "fun"

Gallery of "misused quotation marks"

Hey, ever read a rant about bad punctuation and grammar in a blog? Good, then you don't need me to do it. I'm so happy that someone has made this site. We can "stamp out" quotation mark abuse in "our time."
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Sara: Trust your florist only up to a point

New updates in the Cavalcade of Bad Bridal Fashion.
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Sunday, October 13, 2002

Sara: Really sewing-centric post that probably should be on sewgeeky.com instead.

I frolicked about in my corset for a while this evening. Felt very saucy. The thing is just about finished; there's just a bias binding to do at the bottom and that certainly isn't enough to hold my attention, so it hasn't been done.

I also had Dennis take some measurements of me in the corset, so I can start working with my bodice pattern. I bought some orange gingham fabric tonight to use for the muslin. Gingham is great for fitting because you can see where the grainline is and it makes troubleshooting strange wrinkles and pulls much easier. I almost bought black and white gingham, but then I realized that it made my brain hurt. The orange has much less contrast, and it was on sale due to Halloween. Which is good because I was at Stonemountain & Daughter and Poppy Fabrics both today and it's beginning to look a lot like...Halloween. The time of year when I try to avoid fabric stores. Most of the glitzy stuff I like is suddenly no longer on sale, because people who buy fabric once a year storm the place and don't know that they're paying the maximum possible amount. So, I shall lay low and play with my gingham for the rest of October. Once the pattern is ready, I just need to get underlining (probably silk organza) and then start in on the real thing.

And that's certainly more interesting than hearing about our dinner with rock stars, right?
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