Regrets

Ten days ago, I lost my very dear friend Paul.

Paul was a loving husband and a dedicated Dad. Paul's life revolved around his family.

Paul was a great friend.

It began around the first of the year. It had been a few months since we last spoke. His voicemail mentioned something about medical setbacks and a three week medical stay. When we finally spoke, he informed me that he was fighting to get better after a lung biopsy left his lungs unable to function properly. He was only able to go home for a short period of time but was then forced back into the hospital.

Paul was placed on a transplant list early spring. The doctors diagnosed him with pulmonary fibrosis. The cause of his illness remained unknown. I visited Paul a few times in the hospital. I wish I had visited more. I was convinced he would get better. I was convinced he was coming home. I was convinced he would be fine. I never once thought that maybe Paul was just too sick to get better. I figured he would be out of the hospital in no time and we would spend time together then.

I was very much in denial.

Paul was only 38 years old.

I am angry that God has taken such a wonderful man away from his family. I am sad that his children might never know how much their dad loved them. I ache for his wife that has to live without her beloved and raise their two children without him. I can't even imagine her pain.

I am wishing that I had spent more time with him over the last few months.

You fought long and you fought hard. Your body just couldn't fight anymore. May you finally be at rest and at peace.

You will never be forgotten.

I miss you buddy.

Foul Mood

I've been completely missing in action lately mainly because I've been a big ball of stressed out highly confrontational energy. Although I'm fighting very hard to stay positive and fight off the negative energy, I'm having a hard time staying chipper. Increased responsibilities at work, wedding planning, and MOUNTING bills have me teetering on the edge of a crying fit/tempter tantrum at any given moment during the day. In addition I'm a total stress eater - so when the going gets tough, I usually get a hot fudge sundae. The chocolate high makes me feel better, but since I'm watching what I eat I can't reach for the fudge resulting in added stress because, gosh darn it, I JUST WANT SOME CHOCOLATE GOODNESS!

I attempt to convince myself that these are "happy times," and for split seconds at a time I actually feel just that - happy and excited that the wedding is 10 weeks away. Then my mind switches to the virtual "to do" list I have streaming in my mind, and my good mood fades to "HOLY CRAP HOW DO I GET IT ALL DONE!?!?!"

I had a "mini" breakdown last night as I perused wedding magazines in search of some last minute ideas. Poor Brian had to console my sobs at 11:30 pm as I whined and sniffled for the most ridiculous reasons....

"What if it isn't perfect!! I still haven't figured out what to do with my hair. Veil, no veil? I don't know what to do! I still have to make my hair and makeup appointment and PROGRAMS! What are we going to do about programs?! I have to call the DJ and we need to plan the ceremony and the rings! We need rings......"

On and on and on I ranted while Brian contemplated whether to hug me or jump out the window and make a run for it. In my defense, I am premenstrual (TMI?) which means I have zero control over my thoughts, emotions, and feelings.

I plan on taking some time over the weekend to get organized. I'm usually pretty good with this kind of stuff but the stress of it all has made me procrastinate. At 10 weeks out - the procrastination has got to stop.

So any advice? Any words of wisdom to make THIS part of the planning process easy and enjoyable and most importantly not stressful.

Anyone, anyone?

Cat Fights, Drugs, and Trash

I watch really horrible television.

I'm sure you do as well.

I realized that my taste in television had gone down the tubes as I was giddily watching the season finale of Mob Wives. At one point I actually spoke the words, "Oh no she DIDN'T."

Out loud. To the TV. Like they could hear me.

I promised myself that I would dial back the drama filled television shows, however, I enjoyed a really delicious cup of coffee after work today while I was glued to my DVR'd episode of Intervention.

"Holy train wrecks."

Again, out loud. Talking to the television.

Jerseylicious, Bridezillas, Hoarders....all really bad television shows that I can't seem to tear myself away from.

Even as I type right now I am watching Celebrity Rehab and thinking that Michael Lohan is full of crap.

These shows are SO BAD, yet so incredibly addictive.

So admit it - what tacky show are you glued to?

Big Dog

Loving a big dog and living with a big dog isn't easy.

Being a dog owner and sharing your home with a dog is one thing. Sharing your home with a dog that is the size of a small pony is a completely different story.

I realized this fact one early morning at about 3 am when I ventured out of my warm bed for a middle of the night bathroom run. Simon likes to sleep on the cool tile of our not so spacious bathroom. When Simon is sleeping next to the sink his body spans the space between the sink and the toilet. When Simon is sleeping next to the toilet, his body spans the space between the toilet and the sink. Basically, if Simon is sleeping in the bathroom Simon is sleeping in the ENTIRE bathroom.



So what does one do when they groggily stumble into the bathroom and encounter a very large soundly sleeping Simon? Well, I suppose you could tell him to move. Chances are he won't flinch. I suppose you could ATTEMPT to move him yourself. Yup, good luck with that. Instead of attempting to disturb the boulder that is my sleeping dog, I've learned that I have to just pee around him so to speak.



I must first maneuver my footwork to walk around his sleeping body so that I am able to get my butt to and physically on the toilet seat. Sometimes I'm able to sit facing forward. Sometimes I'm forced to pee sideways. Sometimes I have to pee with one foot on the floor and one foot on the dog. Sometimes the dog wakes up and looks at me as if to say, "can I pee in here too?" Sometimes Simon wakes up, shoots me a dirty "you woke me up" look, and saunters out of the bathroom.



Sometimes I find him sleeping under the shower curtain. This means both feet end up on the dog.

But I love him. All 130lbs of his black toilet blocking body.

Showered - A Month Later.....

Finally - I have proof that my bridal shower actually took place - a few fuzzy pictures for your viewing delight!

My girls:



My groom:


My Maid of Honor and Junior Bridesmaid:


Happy Thursday :)

Names

I am having some issues with the whole getting married and changing my last name thing.

It's not that I don't like Brian's last name. It's a perfectly fine last name. Easy to spell. Easy to pronounce. Not too long. Not too short. Most importantly, it doesn't rhyme with our sound like a word that is sexually suggestive or related to undesirable body functions.

Like I said it is a perfectly fine last name.

My issue is that it's his last name. Not mine.

I understand that marriage means we are coming together as one and we are forming a bond and creating a family and we're husband and wife and yadda, yadda, yadda. The name issue doesn't mean that I don't feel like we are less bonded or less of a couple or less in love. Collectively, I don't mind being referred to as the, "Smiths (not Brian's real last name)." I am completely on board with our team name. Our married name.

Brian and Anastasia Smith.
That's fine.

Mrs. Smith.
That's fine as well.

But that fact that Anastasia will be followed by something other than the name I've known my whole life when referring strictly to me - feels, oh I don't know, odd. It almost feels like putting on an outfit that fits just fine, and looks good, but isn't my style and isn't me.

Ok, that's a bad analogy, but I think you get my point.

I don't mind being part of team Smith. But knocking out my last name to replace or hyphenate with another, husband or not, seems somewhat uncomfortable to me.

When I have this conversation with people, they often ask how I would handle the last name of our children if we decide to have them. IF Brian and I decide that we MIGHT think of MAYBE having some little non-fur babies, they would have Brian's last name and again, collectively, we would be the Smiths. This is usually when I get the question which is usually asked in an attitude-y manner:

"So, you're like, going to have a different last name than your children? You're like, ok with that?"

Actually, I'm very ok with that. My parents divorced when I was very young and my mother returned back to her maiden name. It never bothered me that she had a different last name and to be honest I hardly even noticed. Same last name or different last name - I referred to her as Mom. It was never an issue. When people would refer to her as Mrs. "divorced last name," she would smile and reply, "Please, call me Joanne."

I've had other women ask me, "what's the big deal in changing your name?" I suppose they are right. It isn't a big deal. On the flip side, what is the big deal in leaving my name the way it is? Especially considering that I am fine with the our team name, and won't correct people when they refer to me as Mrs. Smith.

It just feels strange to me that one day my last name is my last name and then because I'm now married my last name becomes Brian's last name. Although I agree that Brian and I should have a team name, (the Smiths) I still feel very connected to my individual name. It doesn't make us any less a pair, or any less a strong unit. It's just me being me.

And I'm a pain in the a*s.

As Promised

Hi. I'm back!

As much as I would love to post pictures from the wonderful evening that was my bridal shower - I can't.

Because I don't have any. Not. A. Single. One.

Pictures from the evening do indeed exist. I've seen a few here and there but unfortunately I'm not thrilled with the way I came out in the photos. In my opinion, I somewhat resemble a bloated rhinoceros.

With lipstick.
And fun shoes.

Because of my striking resemblance to this large horned mammal, I have been reluctant to request copies of pictures from that evening. My sister has one that I vaguely liked. But just one.

One. Single. Picture.

Yup, I'm that vain.

So moving on.

I haven't finished my thank you notes. I'm almost done. I didn't want to rush through them. I prefer to take my time and make each note personal and from the heart. Some notes were more difficult then others.

"Thank you for the..............napkins...."

How does one incorporate thoughtfulness and heartfelt thanks when it comes to napkins?

".....they will adorn our table when we have family and friends over to celebrate life's multiple joyous occasions!"

Yes!

Other notes just flowed and flowed and before I knew it I was running out of space and thanking certain individuals not only for their presence at the shower and their gift, but for the important role they played/play in my life.

Those notes are the funnest.

But alas, the mattress pad notes also need to be written....

"Thank you for the luscious mattress pad........"

Hmmmmm. So many places I could go with this one........

Happy Monday!