Forgotten Pic, Fig Tree

This was labeled as "African fig tree" at the Tanzania National Museum. It was not bearing fruit, but it was very beautiful and a good 25 feet tall:

My Annette Fantasy.

Do you know the story of Annette Funicello? She was 12, and in her school "Swan Lake" production in Burbank, Walt Disney saw her perform and picked her to be a Mouseketeer - and she went on to become one of the most popular TV stars on the show.

Perhaps you are too steady and mature to have ever had an Annette fantasy... where you're performing in a play, or even just walking down the street, and a casting director decides you are PERFECT FOR THE ROLE, and your life changes in the blink of an eye with, ahem, precious little work on your part.

I've had my share of Annette daydreams, and I suppose they fit the usual bill - when I performed in the 6th grade play, when I went to the state Geography Bee, when Kathleen Kennedy came to the theater I worked at in college for a film premiere of hers - of being selected at random, for no reason, to fulfill a great destiny.

Walking this past weekend on a lovely spring afternoon to the grocery store, I slowed down in front of the house I always slow down in front of, which has been for sale for 18 months or more, and is the perfect Craftsman with a big yard, a fireplace, it looks small from the front but is actually quite spacious and large, and sighed. I had an Annette moment. Maybe someone would say to me, "Oh, do you love this house?" And I would be able to answer, "Oh I've loved it since I moved to this neighborhood nearly four years ago. I would make it such a happy house with BBQs and Christmas decorations, gardens and music, gatherings and neighborliness!"* And they would say, "Then you shall have this house! For the enormous down payment of zero, because you are so worthy!"

It's funny - and I know it is - but it's dangerous too. When this type of entitlement attitude, this type of "above the rules" feeling goes too far, then grandiosity and isolation from my fellow man isn't far behind.

But hey, maybe the owners of the house are reading, and I can wish, right? For it is a fine distraction from the bore of plunking away money, week after week, into the savings fund that'll get me to that house, some house, eventually.

(*This house/Annette moment is also a nod for those Anne Shirley-lovers who read the blog, and how she secured the rental at Patty's Place by so loving the home and honestly vowing to not change its name.)

Good Thing Friday: Flowers.

It was a good thing to choose bright orange marigolds this year to put in a hanging basket on my porch. (Um, after the petunias got scorched. But Good Thing Friday can come after a mistake - it still counts.) They stand up just fine in late-afternoon blazing sun, in 109 degree heat, and in less-than-perfectly-frequent watering. They are a lovely burst of color on our little apartment porch.

I decided this year to always have fresh flowers in the house. I could feel guilty that they're probably grown by children and oppressed women in Latin America... and I do at times... but it's Good Thing Friday, so BOO. I choose to spend between $4 and $7 every week or ten days, and tell me it's not worth it:


(This week was the $7 week - spendy for me, but I look at them all day, and in the evening by candlelight, and it really does bring joy.)

The Rules.

Nope, not that wonderful book from a decade ago about how to "snag" and "win" a "man". Just a couple thoughts on bucking the WIC rules...

1. You can't see each other before the wedding.

ACK?! What? Who? If you don't live together, I can see it. If you live your life according to horoscopes and fortune cookies and with good luck socks, then go for it. But for us, one of the best choices we made was hanging out the day of the wedding. He made breakfast in regular Sunday-style... a reminder that we are people, regular people, ourselves and not BRIDE and GROOM, enjoying a Sunday morning. Oh and later we're throwing this big party. Breakfast, followed by massages, followed by a rehearsal in our regular clothes at the venue... all lovely. Seeing each other made it feel real, made me feel present and connected to the day's activities. Plus, doing pictures before still captured the "Oh look at the dress!" moment in the park but we got to hang out upstairs before the ceremony together, laughing and practicing and not pacing or, as one bride I knew (and was helping) yelled at me angrily, "If they don't start this wedding NOW I am going to effing puke!" Nice. And it resulted in a pic like the one above, seconds before we walked down the aisle together.

2. You have to be walked down the aisle.

Pick your battles. My feminist battle was about the symbolism and for me, the symbolism of two adults, committing to marriage together, walking down the aisle of life together, was too precious to skip. Plus I got to say hi and smile and love on my guests instead of nervously looking at John! The walk down the aisle was Teh Bestt, as the kids say.

3. The bouquet toss is fun and women like it. There are good pictures from it.

Uh, no. It is not. There might be good pics, I'll grant that. People groaning and being adorabley miserable. Isn't it cute to tease single women about when they're going to achieve the best thing in life ever, marriage to a man?!?!?! And while we're at it, neither is the garter toss. And not a single person asked about when it was going to happen. Win!

4. Diamonds are a girl's best friend.

Well, but some women like pearls better. All the work (and cost) of a custom design with pearls was worth it. Ain't it hard to be creative? Ha.

5. You have to have a wedding party.

This was tough, because I have about fifteen or more women and men I love dearly enough to honor with a spot in the wedding party. But in the end, ending this post on a selfish note, these men and women were more helpful and amazing when not part of the wedding party. They ran errands, fixed a broken zipper (!!!!), held up the dress out of the dirt, worked the room, the dance floor, the mic, opened wine, got us food, hailed us cabs, drove us home at 4:15 AM and generally were supportive beyond expectation. Having no one to coordinate or corral during the day, or during formal photos, was, as Billy says on the MasterCard ads, priceless. K I S right? Keep It Simple. That's my rule.

Surprise!

Of all the many overwhelming aspects of the WIC (Wedding Industrial Complex), perhaps the most mentally crushing is the control factor.

Monogrammed napkins, matchbooks, champagne flutes, gift boxes of Jordan almonds for your guests (boxes AND almonds). Perfect toasts, ceremony, dances with nary a misstep. Breakfast with your family and a massage under the sun, perfect hair and unchipped nails, enough time to enjoy it all but each tiny, minute, insane detail organized and expected. A movie montage, frankly. Or, from my planning process, the suggestion from a magazine of beautiful nosegays at each dinner plate... of lily of the valley... which is $12 a stem.

Hmm. OK. Yes. We know what this is about. These wedding things.

So, I decided to put my trust in other people. I didn't want to be the director of the wedding... mouthing memorized lines behind the camera, jumping before the flare goes off, conducting the orchestra and hearing the symphony in my head. I wanted to feel In The Moment above all things... and to do this, for me, some things just HAD to be surprises, so I could get snapped back to the moment, like with a meditation gong. Or a rubber band on the wrist.

The success came from sagely choosing people who have continually been to me and John reliable, loving, appropriate to any situation. What came of these choices was...

1. Our perfect officiant, an old friend of mine, wrote a ceremony with the vows we'd written, but with an introduction commentary and closing benediction that we heard for the first time along with our guests. It was laugh out loud funny. It was poignant, moving, tender. It was serious by turns. He brought his gravitas and his dry wit. He set the tone and was an utter delight.

2. Our readers, John's friend and my mom, spoke with confidence and love. They spoke slowly and clearly... they both valued the texts I lovingly picked out. My mother blessed us with the only mention of "God" in the ceremony, as the person in our life with the deepest and most compassionate relationship with him/her. D brought a childlike exuberance to his reading, in a way no other person there could have.

3. The cake was imagined over emails and phone calls with Bill, and it was perfect. I didn't see it till around 5 PM, never tasted it till my first bite, and I clapped my hands and squee'd. Perfect! It handily beat cakes I tasted elsewhere, and whether that's because he's such a damn fine baker, or because we were all so in love with love, or because he baked it with affection for us, we'll never know. But it is wrapped in two layers of saran, two of foil, and patiently sitting in the freezer for May 24 2010. Related to this was the joy of seeing the cake topper for the first time the night before... made by my cousin, it was awesome. It was us! It was like cartoon Emmy and John, in our wedding finery, and it got him a gig making one for someone else... THAT damn good.

4. I didn't even know who was giving toasts till ten minutes before. Yay for In The Moment!

5. Serendipity ensued. Jennifer's handpainted champagne flutes could not have better matched the cake and roses if she'd mixed the paint herself. I marveled and marveled at the matchy-matchy-ness, which warmed my little domestic heart.

6. Things that easily could have caused a freak out... flower errors, table assignment misplacement, forgotten boutonnieres, kidney crushing Spanx... I dismissed. Choosing to dismiss something is HARD, but worth it. And lo and behold, no one else noticed them. No one else noticed anything I thought might be A Problem.

Clearly, many things must be decided to plan a wedding. But no one complimented the sage green chair sashes or, yes, the monogrammed matchboxes I ordered. Because no one cared about them; it was not the focus of the night since instead and luckily, an exuberant celebration of love, compassion and commitment was. And I, amazingly, felt totally with them... delighted and surprised by the dances, songs, comments, cheers, and general happenings. Fun!

What $10 Will Buy You.

Admittedly, I am standing a little behind this vase of flowers... but not by much. It's a pretty accurate depiction of my head versus the size of the bouquet... the flowers are about twice as big.

Their fragrance fills up a very large room, and it helps me write the poetic, and important, document I'm trying to finish this week. It also makes you think about having a wedding in Costa Rica, if for the flower prices alone!