Wake me up before you go-go

Hmmm. I woke up about an hour ago (8:30 pm) and F was gone. He's still gone. Where could my ever-reliable, always-makes -sure-to-check-in, never-makes-me-wonder sweetheart be at this hour on a school night? Ok, well we don't go to school and he's currently unemployed and I work at home, but we're too boring for this.

Besides, he's liable to fall asleep in 30 minutes.

Tomorrow is my birthday and f isn't one to be conventional. Last year he got me an elephant that *pretend* lays fruit when I'm not around. Every once in a while, when I'm not looking, F will say, "You better check Nickolai, and there will be a newly-in-season piece of fruit. F thinks that fruit is the new flowers. He gets me flowers, too, but fruit really is much more environmentally responsible and just as pretty when you think about it. But a gal's gotta have flowers, too. F has got this one down. I get flowers about once a week. I have gotten many lemons, many apples, large and small, and once he gave me a baby peach that he stole from the neighbor. I get a lot of kumquats. F also gives me lots of lilies of all types, roses of all colors, Gerber daisies (his favorite flower) He claims he can smell all kinds of flowers that don't smell: like carnations and daisies.

So, I have this bizarre image stuck in my head of F stuck on the 5, holding up traffic, dragging a 200 pound watermelon behind his car.

Today we went to the Quail Botanical Gardens. I can't believe I've lived in San Diego this long and never been there. We saw one of the largest bamboo collections in the United States. That's right. Anyway, apparently this lady was a naturalist and she had this house with a couple of acres, so she cultivated gardens on it full of plants and flowers that grow in San Diego county (lots of desert-type stuff, but very pretty).

Then she donated the grounds to San Diego in 1957 and you can go look at all her plants there, still. You can even see her old house hidden among the brush and flowers.

Ok, no F. I guess I'll call him.

We'll build the dreams we treasure...

I forgot how nice it is to live with someone When you're an older gal, like myself, and the rest of the world has mostly paired off, or due to other circumstances, you sometimes find yourself living solo. At first,this may be a difficult adjustment. Sure, it's nice to ave your OWN place and decorate it anyway you want and invite ONLY your friends over and all that - but you get used to it. You get used to being alone, silence, solitude, meditation, space, etc.
When F moved in here last week, I thought I'd go batty, but I would eventually get used to his being here, and in my space, all the time. After all, we're getting married, so I'd better get used to it. There was this sort of sadness whenever F left my place to go back to his on Sunday nights or I headed back down to my house after a sleep over.
And it's true that now that we live together, it's like a sleepover every night. We cuddle up in bed and watch classic movies together before we fall asleep, we read interesting things on the Internet from our perspective laptops and then email them back and forth to each other. I do talk to on the phone a lot less now, which is a relief because, as everyone knows, I detest speaking on the phone. What I really hate is chit-chat, the kind that folks assume you enjoy just because you have a uterus - hate it.
Since we lived 45 minutes apart and couldn't see each other every day, we were forced to speak on the phone rather often - now, not so much; so that's definitely a bonus.
Also - -F takes out the trash, cleans the kitchen after I mess it up and unloads the dishwasher. For those of you married gals who are rolling your eyes right about now - Yes, I know it won't last and I AM enjoying it while I can.

I need a break. I need alone time. I need MY OWN SPACE.

I love F and I'm so glad that he moved in and that we're getting hitched but I am just a person who, whether through habit or nature, has a deep-down NEED to be alone.

When I was dating F, he had a suitcase that appeared to be packed on the floor of his bedroom. I never asked what was in that suitcase or why it was packed and sitting on the floor of his bedroom for two years. I figured: a) I enjoy a man with an aura of mystery and b) if it concerned me, he would tell me. Besides, I might have mentioned that F has some other peculiar habits, like piling (see moving day) - anyway.

I now know what was in the suitcase.

10 years worth of credit card offers, bank statements, credit card statements, receipts and any other random piece of junk mail that F may have encountered. You see, F fears identity theft, so like a wise lad, he never throws any document away that some thief could use to purloin his identity. However, F never had a shredder, nor apparently, a fireplace. So, F carried this 74 pound bag of detritus around for years, waiting for the day when he happened upon a volcano - or a gal with a document shredder.

Suffice it to say that F has been shredding 8 hours a day since he got here and I am about to lose my ever-loving mind. Or run away. And I now know why F asked me to marry him.

*&&^%&$ Taxes

Dear Mr. ______ , CPA;
When someone sends you a check for $300, you might want to check with them before you assume that the only W2 that you are lazy enough to look at, encompassing all of 2 months work, is not the only W2 that said person would like to file taxes on. That's right, there are two (2) W2s in the envelope I sent you (not one).
You can imagine my surprise when I got your package back (nice stationary, btw) presenting me with an e-filing form to sign, a receipt showing 0$ owed and $300 received and a reconciliation sheet reflecting an estimated return of four hundred dollars.
I was a little shocked to discover that not only did you think that I thought that filling out a 1040EZ for 400$ was WORTH 300$, but that you weren't even embarrassed CASH my check.
Mr. _______, when folks pay 300$, they want you to: write off their mortgage, their home office, and generally try to find as many refund opportunities as possible. I don't know what idiot is paying you their entire return just to fill out a worksheet, but it isn't this dumb b&*^%.
I am REPRINTING both W2s and sending them back to your office with the tiny remnants of your lovely "presentation" by tomorrow's post.
Please find a thread of decency and do them correctly, or I will just buy the stinking Turbo Tax and do them myself. Then, Mr._______, I will be filling in the blanks left in this post and creating a whole new bog in your honor, including as many tags as humanly possible.
You are a true idiot.

Love, Feather

Dress/Shoes/Stamps

This is THE wedding dress.

The pic is small but you get the general idea. It is just devastating b/c I bought it from this gal: http://search.ebay.com/_W0QQfgtpZ1QQfrppZ25QQsassZtimelessvixenQQssPageNameZMERCQ5fVICQ5fReBayQ5fPr4Q5fPcNQ5fQ5fSI

And now I want to buy 50 wedding dresses. Everything she has is FAB-U-LOUS and it makes me so horribly unhappy to think that I don't have a fancy party to go to every single day where I can wear one of her varied, multi-colored, swing-skirted, 50s-style par-tay dresses. I don't know where she gets her stuff - but oh SO CUTE!

You will, undoubtedly, recall my previous post about shoes and the most fabulous shoes, the gold shoes, etc. etc. Well, it turns out that I just need more special shoes to go with this dress b/c it is too fantastic to wear earthly shoes. No, it needs, like, shoes designed by Elvis Presley or something. Some days I doubt that I can find shoes that could possibly be outstanding enough to be worn with this dress. Which, BTW, is too small in the chest area - I can zip it to just UNDER my rib cage, but it's not a pretty sight. Vintage size small, for all of you who do not know, is equivalent to a modern day 2T (toddler size 2). Seriously. The gal who is wearing it in the picture (timelessvixen) must be about 3 feet tall. But- no matter. I've sworn off beer and chocolate, and failing that I intend to get an industrial girdle.

It turns out that F and I won't actually have time to go camping before we move to DC. The wedding is the 26th, F's b-day is the 27th (same day as the wedding brunch) and the 28th, we leave for DC. So that'll be out Honeymoon, but better than none at all, I suppose.

I got F a beautiful watch for his wedding gift/birthday present. It's a Swiss Army Officer's Watch like this one: http://www.17jewel.com/pics/tn/S24639t.jpg I have the same one (women's).

I've already spent WAY too much money on the wedding, but oh well. I got a great deal on it and F asks me every 5 minutes what time it is, which can be very annoying over the course of an entire day, so I figured it's a lot more cost effective than marriage counseling, which is about what it's going to come to if he doesn't get his own watch soon.

Also, we ordered (together) the announcements and received them. They're not that bad. We got them at Vista Print (Check them out - they're online) and they are definitely not engraved-quality, but they're quite nice and affordable, too. I even got to choose the paper (linen).

I couldn't get it to post, so you can see them here: http://www.vistaprint.com/vp/ns/my_account/doc_view.aspx?gp=3%2F14%2F2008+1%3A30%3A01+AM&fsp=yes&r=my%5Fportfolio%2Easpx&alt%5Fdoc%5Fid=93337%2D49572%2D4L1

And I ordered a hundred Tiffany stamps: http://z.about.com/d/stamps/1/7/G/-/-/-/Tiffany39_sgl300dpi.jpg

I know they print a heart stamp for the sole purpose of wedding invitations, but this year's was so ugly I couldn't bring myself to it - even if people think I don't know any better.

Until next time.

Moving Days

That is my living room. Yes that is a queen sized bed.

Sometimes I want to lie down, and not on the couch, when I happen to be in the living room. And don't feel like going to the bedroom.

Just kidding - this is Frinnefreid's "stuff". I could use other terms to describe this array of collected objects, but we'll just use stuff. F has stuff from 82, and I don't mean a high school yearbook, I mean Rollerblades.

One of the first things that F brought over was a large rotisserie oven, suitable for roasting several birds at once. He said that we didn't have to keep it if I didn't care for it. I asked if he was joking. I had already planned, like, a dozen things that I was going to roast and eat the moment I saw it. I noticed that he seemed less than enthusiastic. "What's wrong, dear", I asked. F went on to explain that it's just that he's not into "stuff", that he's a simple man and he doesn't need "things". The truth was that this was a gift from his parents, along with some very nice, solid-wood TV trays, and an array of glasses and dishware.

He explained with some regret that, although he was a simple man, needing and wanting few material goods, he had occasionally been forced to acquire these useless objects. Cups, plates, a kitchen appliance. Clearly his parents just don't understand.

"Why are you smiling?" F asks.

At that moment I had been imagining F's parents watching him suck water directly out of his sink faucet for want of a cup, in between taking bites from the pile of Mushu Chicken he is holding (no plate).

While wearing Rollerblades from 1982.

I can also hear him giving his parents the "I'm a simple man" speech that I have heard on many occasions.

Other things I now cohabit with:

7345 twisty ties

4 empty blue empty glass water bottles - no lids

Circa 1972 desk lamp with desk-specific, attached hardware. Unfortunately, no desk.

Medium-sized collection of Mardi Gras beads

Large bike tire pump - sadly, no bike

5x8x2 ft black, wire shelf-stand that definitely does not match the decor of my place

etc.

What's also notable is that almost everything still has the original box/packaging/shipping container that it came in. Which, in essence, makes twice as much STUFF.

He has also dragged back the television I gave him about a year ago. Complete with remote control, which he keeps ON a folder paper towel. At all times. No, I don't ask.

I gave him the TV when I lived a few hours away and would stay at his pace for a few days while he went to work during the day. I like the news. And, F had extended cable, courtesy of his landlord, which he only used for Internet.

When I brought the thing in, F gave me a disappointed look. It's one thing, apparently, to bring functional, useful things into his living space, like 10,000 rubber bands or a kite string, but a television set? It was clearly an insult. I explained to F that I would leave the TV in the corner behind the chair and only use it when he wasn't home.

F eventually warmed up to the idea. When his city was burning down and during the recent presidential primary, he has used it to watch the news. He takes it out, plugs it in, attaches the cable and watches his program. Then he unplugs it, unhooks the cable, returns the remote to its paper towel home and puts it back behind the chair. Where it belongs.

What was the point of all this? Oh yes. Now that my office and living room have reached maximum capacity, I can feel him encroaching on my bedroom. My pink, girly, feminine space. Where it's nice and pretty and totally lacks random old, boy-objects in green and grey and mustard-yellow. None of his stuff matches; he doesn't really have a decor. Which I understand, because I have a decor and that happened because I *planned* to get more stuff that looked like the stuff I already had.

Not F. See, if you're not planning on getting anything, you can't control the color/design of the things that show up. But, of course, this is why I love F. He's quirky, but he doesn't compromise his ideals. Even if it means having a house of random, assorted odds and ends spanning the last 3 decades.

Michigan Seems Like a Dream to me Now

That's all for today.

The Dress

I got the dress but eBay won't let me post a picture of it! I also won the Juliet Cap from previous posts, as well as this little wedding night number, if you kn0w what I mean:

It is just beautiful in person. I'll have to take a pic of the dress when it arrives.

Just in case you were worried, I already bought a little something for the engagement party, this: Sorry - I need to find a pic - it's Sherri Segal. Ivory column dress with pin tuck on the bust. Very modern and simple. No train.

Imagine it is ivory, no train and a pleat in the center of the bust. No lace. This picture was used to demonstrate the silhouette of the dress, nor so much the style. Anyway, if you've never been a bride before, you can't know how difficult it is the choose a dress. I might not be done. Being that this is my ultimate and last wedding, and I always had regrets about my first wedding,there is a good chance that I mat even buy yest another wedding gown.

Now, if your really up to date, which, I don't blame you if your not, you know that I purchased some shoes for the bridesmaids and myself. Was thinking, however, that I might wear mine with this little number, that I'm wearing to the brunch:

I think this might be just lovely with the shoes. And that would give me an excuse to buy yet another pair of shoes.

In other news, F moved in this weekend - so we are now officially living in sin. His lease on his old place was up and his landlord wanted to charge a whole lot more rent, so we shacking up for two months. It's only Monday night, but I have to say, it's gone pretty well so far.

Well, that's it for now.

Next time, flowers.

Moving on In

I'm still in the desert at my mom's house. I was going to head home tonight, but then both my sisters decided to show up. F will have to move alone. Besides, I don't think I can handle the "piles". That's right - F is a "piler". Before we go anywhere, F must make many, many piles. This is followed by a series of combining and dividing, combining and dividing until he finally makes the perfect assembly of piles and then we can go. This seems like a lovable foible, and that's truly the way I try to see it, but when we're trying to get somewhere and we're already late, this can sometimes seem like an annoying tic. I know it's not.
So, it's really best if I hang out here at my mom's while he moves his stuff into my place. Today was his last day of work; I can't imagine what we are going to do for the next 2 months. He wants to do some traveling. I'd like to go camping. We are also in the process of planning the big move.
I want to have a moving truck show up at my house at the beginning of May, load our packed boxes into the truck, and drive it to DC. This plan seems insufficient to F. Somehow, not quite elaborate enough. He has suggested a variety of schemes, including driving to DC twice, moving our stuff out there a month ahead of time (that'll be fun with the wedding and all) and now he wants to get a Pod. Why? Why would we put all of our stuff in a pod and let it sit in storage while we are living in California with plenty of perfectly good free space. He keeps insisting that we take his 15-year-old, salvaged Acura Integra, worth all of, oh, 600 dollars, to DC. I have assured him over and over that we will get along fine with one car, especially since public transportation is easy and cheap in DC and I work from home. But oh, it would be too easy.
It's like the old Bond films. They catch Bond, but they can't just kill him. First they have to devise some bizarre scheme which will culminate in Bond's death. The video game of death, I believe from Casino Rayale, was the best. Anyway, he always escaped. If there were no elaborate, difficult, cockamamie Bond-death scenes it just wouldn't be Bond. Likewise, if there were no piles and strange, elaborate plans, it just wouldn't be F.
I WON THE DRESS. I won the auction and now the dress is officially mine - sorry suckers! I've also snagged a pair of vintage wedding gloves and I've still got my eye on a certain little hat.
And, my sister is throwing D and I an engagement party/wedding shower so I can see all my friends since they can't be there on my big day. I might have mentioned that - I'm excited.