I had a dream I had a baby.
It was adorable, but I don’t know if it was a boy or a girl.
I think it was a girl.
I was happy.
I was carrying the baby in a sling on my chest and fighting giant monsters with a kick-ass broadsword.
Going to Geneva today in a few hours to scout out the wedding location next year. So I had said that I would do it at a family vacation so I could have the whole family there and not have to worry about inviting people I didn’t want.
The location was set.
And now it’s not.
Because my 25 wedding planners found other, prettier places around Geneva and Marblehead that would be nicer for the wedding.
So instead of seeing one place today, I’m seeing 5.
Mom: “Mark found a place near Lakeside and the condo that he thinks would be better, and if he found it, you know it’ll be nice.”
Mom: “It’s three grand more though.”
Mom: “But he’s covering the cost.”
GODDAMNIT. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO TAKE AWAY THE STRESS. I JUST WANT TO GET MARRIED, CAN’T I JUST HAVE A CARDBOARD BOX?
My wedding is supposed to be during our family vacation next year. It alleviated a lot of my worries and takes care of the catering, the wine, the music, the photography, the flowers, the cake, the dress…everything basically.
Except now…the whole family is going nuts and trying to make everything fairy-tale perfect and i just want to say a few words and be married.
I actually don’t mind…it’s weird, all the stress is off me and I basically have over 25 wedding planners…
Possibly long and painful:
Just Minecraft, building a highway to hell.
I thought about something tonight, I don’t even know what prompted it. I feel indifferent about it even though I feel like I should break down. I don’t even know why I feel like I should break down. It prompted a series of events that were neither satisfying nor unsatisfying.
I think I need to remember what matters. That writing makes me feel alive. The memory of when I realized that and the memory of when someone close to me had a problem with that. I doubt they knew how I would react. I know they didn’t think it would have the repercussions it did.
In the end, that December, years ago, when I was up at all hours of the night shooting shit with Rob when we were just good friends. When I ate nothing but rice dinners in front of the computer. When I was putting out thousands of words a night. When my body was shaking with excitement and anticipation of the story flowing from my fingertips.
That was when my life took a step towards the future.
That was when I pulled myself out of a suicidal depression.
That was when I had a reason to live.
That was the moment I knew, for the first time, I wasn’t having a bad dream. I was alive.
I am alive.
I’m getting married next year. We actually set a date.
I have until June 21 2015 to fight with Robbie over last names.
A small personal update, I think I mentioned something about this on my personal tumblr.
So my arm looked like this Monday morning:
It’s a welting spider bite that swelled up around my arm. One of the nurses marked it with a skin marker, disinfected, covered with an antibiotic, and sealed with a tegaderm dressing.
This is the wound today:
The swelling is down, the bite is not spreading. There appears to be no necrosis or cellulitis. I did, however, have an allergic reaction to the tegaderm and you can see the irritation where the square was. It makes everything so itchy.
But, I’m not dying, so yay!
So, I have to share this gem.
I got off work this past weekend, and since Rob’s schedule is crazy I stay with my Mom for the three days and then go home.
So it’s like 11 in the morning, we’re sitting down with cigarillos, wine, and chicken wings (b/c that’s how I roll), when the doorbell rings.
My Mom’s doorbell is NOT a normal doorbell. The house is over 100 years old, renovated with the old architecture in tact. The bell is legit an old school alarm bell/fire drill bell. So when someone rings it, it peels out an ear-splitting ring all over the damn house. No matter how much my Mom hates it, she won’t get rid of it, for the same reason why she won’t get rid of the terra-cotta tiles in the kitchen, or the mahogany pocket doors she never uses—they’re too unique.
So the doorbell rings. And these people don’t just ring it—THEY HOLD IT DOWN. So as usual, I instinctively scream. Mom jumps up—pissed off as all hell.
She goes to the door, swings it open, and proceeds to SCREAM AT THESE PEOPLE.
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT MY DOORBELL SOUNDS LIKE?" [rings bell, I scream from the other room, I can’t help it.] "AND WHEN YOU FUCKING LEAN ON IT YOU PISS ME OFF. GET OFF MY PORCH I’M NOT INTERESTED."
So she slams the door in their face, but not before I have time to peek out and realize…
She just cussed out and slammed the door on a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses…
I couldn’t stop laughing, and she just stared at me for a while until I told them that they probably didn’t want to tell her the Good News anyways.
For the record, my Mom is a pastor’s wife, Dad is at the annual West Ohio United Methodist Conference at Lakeside.
She is turning 50 next month…
The weekend is a blur and I am partially dead.
Actually dying. Not sure if I’ll have to go to the hospital as a patient this week. There’s a spider bite welting on my arm that is threatening to turn into cellulitis.
Hopefully I’ll get some sleep and stop being delirious…