I don't really look good in white....

What's with the "every woman has been planning her wedding ever since she was a little girl" nonsense?

Is that true? It certainly isn't for me. Never in my life had I ever daydreamed about getting married. I'd always imagined myself getting married someday, but I never put much thought into the details. The only thing I knew was that I wanted to get married at my church...even though I'm not terribly religious. I never thought about flowers, the dress, the decor, or anything else.

Which is probably why I'm having a bit of difficulty planning my wedding, which will take place in December.

Planning a wedding is....kind of fun. Stressful. But...fun. Kind of.

Ok. To tell you the truth, I wanted a small wedding. And by small I mean 20 people or less attending, including immediate family. If I had it my way, we'd have a small little ceremony before heading off to this uber-expensive, fancy restaurant in Baltimore I've been dying to go to.

According to my mother-in-law(to be), this was completely unacceptable. My fiancé, to begin with, was right there with me. But the more and more he thought about it (and perhaps the more and more his mom insisted), he decided that he wanted a big wedding.

Sigh.

Isn't it usually the other way around?! It's usually girl wanting something extravagant and the guy wanting the complete opposite.

Here I am all for saving money, keeping things a bit more private and personal, happily refusing to spend hundreds...or thousands...of dollars on a ball gown I will wear only once in my life... and everyone starts acting as if I'm being utterly absurd.

Well excuse me for not being a Bridezilla!

I've managed to keep the guest list to 50 people total. We don't have the money to invite everyone we want (the guest list would have included about 300 people. Why invite mere acquaintances? I don't get it) and I refuse to go into debt for this. And I won't let my future in-laws do such a thing either. My parents aren't contributing much to this because I asked them not to.

My fiancé's parents are still paying off their other son's wedding...which was 2 years ago.

Here's something that kind of made me laugh: My fiancé's mom made a comment about how it's the bride's parents that should pay for the wedding, if not most of it. She started complaining about how much money she had to put into the other son's wedding and how she didn't have to and blah blah blah. So I told her, "Well don't worry about my wedding. I can pay for exactly what I want. I have money saved up for that. I don't have money for what YOU want. This is my wedding."
Yet she insisted on paying for the bulk of it. And continues complaining about the other wedding.

What?!?!

That's her problem, I guess.

Now don't get me wrong. My future in-laws and I get along really well. Better than most people that are brought together by marriage. We're all really close. But ever since this wedding planning junk has started I've been butting heads with mama there 'cause she's the typical "I want things my way" kinda lady.


Have I mentioned that I'm absolutely horrified by the idea of being the center of attention for 6 straight hours? Some people love it. I've heard many girls say, "It's the one day that everyone's eyes will be on me". They love the attention. They crave it.

I, however, do not.

I'm no attention whore. I don't like being in the spotlight. I'm perfectly happy in the shadows. I'm debating as to whether I should pop some Valium before the ceremony...or if I should just skip the pills and go straight for the booze at the reception?

I have time to figure that one out.

sparrows....everywhere...!

Sooo...where did we leave off?

Oh, yes. The quitting of the job. Which leads to the Road Trip of Craziness. Also known as "The Road Trip of Irony" and "The Sparrow Incident".

I missed my cousin's wedding to attend my grandmother's funeral.

*Sigh*

The wedding took place on December 6, 2008. In Florida.

The plan was for my dad and I to drive, mom and my significant other to fly, and we'd all meet up on the 4th. Dad and I left the day after Thanksgiving, giving us plenty of time to go sightseeing before the rendezvous in Ft. Lauderdale. We'd go to the rehearsal dinner, the wedding, then drive/fly back.

My parents and I are spontaneous. We rarely ever make plans. When we do, we realize that we'll probably stray from the itinerary one way or another. We know to expect the unexpected. Stuff happens.

Somehow I knew...I just knew that something was going to happen to my grandmother. As I was packing my suitcase, for just a few seconds the thought flickered in my mind. I said to myself, Wouldn't it be crazy if as soon as we arrived in Florida, Grampy called with bad news about Gram..
Just as quickly as that thought had entered my mind, it was gone. My mind concentrated on getting ready for this adventure.

Day 1
Ok. So we left on time (amazing! that never happens) and had a lot of fun, stopping wherever we wanted to check out the view.

The Blue Ridge Parkway is - for lack of a better word - stunning. Forget the interstate highways. When you're on a road trip you need to take your time, enjoy the sights, and see what's out there. The point isn't to get from start to finish in as little time as possible. If you're terribly impatient and don't have any interest in the scenery, then flying is for you.

Dad and I stopped for the night in North Carolina. That is where I, for the first time in my life, ate a bbq pulled pork sandwich. It's funny how the most mundane foods are new and different to me.
After the delicious meal and an ice-cold beer, I just about passed out in the hotel room.

Day 2
The Blue Ridge mountains had me speechless. Grandfather Mountain took my breath away. I'd never seen such beauty.
We arrived in Pensacola, FL at 4a.m. We slept in the parking lot for about 3 hours after driving all night. (Since we had actually backtracked to check out Grandfather Mountain, and since we were not the least bit sleepy, Dad and I had decided to drive all night so we'd have the entire day to devoted to Pensacola and Gulf Breeze adventures.)

Ventured off to Gulf Breeze to check out the little plot of land we have. Drove back over the bridge to the Naval Aviation Museum. One of my most favorite museums...ever!

By 6pm we were both pretty exhausted.

The sleep deprivation had finally caught up to us. My dad, being 65 (at the time), got major bonus points for keeping up with his hyperactive 24-year-old (at the time) daughter.

Just minutes before checking into the hotel my mom called telling me to call my grandfather.

So I did.

Knowing exactly what I was going to hear.

Sister Jilda Marie (Grampy had nuns over?!) answered the phone and informed me that my grandmother had passed away. She then handed the phone over to my grandfather. My heart broke when he said, "Grammy's gone." The pain in his voice struck my chest, and I cried more for him than for anything else.

I, of course, had to be the one to tell my dad. He took it rather well.

And he, being the mildly psychotic, and the rarely (yet surely) irrational man that he is, insisted on turning the car right around and driving up to Connecticut. Immediately.

I couldn't stop him.

He wouldn't listen to reason.

Of course the day we arrived in Florida we'd have to turn around. AHA! I knew it! I had totally imagined a scenario such as this one.






I appreciate the irony.





So my dad and I took turns driving home, stopping about every hour or so to take a catnap. When we finally arrived in Maryland he agreed to getting some rest and leaving the next day.

Thank goodness.

From the sleep-deprivation, grief and exhaustion I was to the point where I was hallucinating. I kept seeing sparrows appear and disappear in front of me. Why sparrows? No idea.


Until I had reached 24 years of age I had never been to a funeral for a member of my own family. It's weird.

I met the side of the family I never knew. That was nice. They all know my name. Bonus points. I didn't know any of them, though I'd heard of some of them.

A lot of people said they were going to stop by the house after the burial. My dad went overboard (as usual) and bought 1 pound each of ham, salami, turkey, cappicola, swiss and provolone. He bought 4 different loaves of bread, 2 gallons of already made coffee, 3 dozen breakfast danishes. Cousin Marge had brought over a box of doughnuts.

No one showed up. Not a single person.

Hours after the funeral my dad wanted to get in the car and drive right back to Florida.

He's insane.

Instead I spent the week with Grampy. I couldn't just leave him.

Which resulted in my mom's refusal to speak to me for two and a half weeks, because I missed my cousin's wedding.

It was a nice, quiet two and a half weeks.