Registry: Part I

I don't know where to begin. I guess I'll start from the horrific traffic we faced going through Staten Island to get to NJ b/c the NY road people thought it was a good idea to close a lane on the bridge for construction during the busiest travel season ever.

We get to Pottery Barn in Red Bank, NJ, which is a pretty wealthy area, and totally excited, we walk in and get greeted by a ridiculously cheery blonde. I tell her that we want to register. She looks at me with a puzzled stare, pauses for a moment, and then tells us that she is new but she'll get someone to help us. Two minutes later, Amber (I dunno, she looked like an amber) goes and gets Melissa. Melissa, looking like a deer in the headlights, is even more confused. She gets Michele. (I have to add that I can't stand these names because they are both names of ex's of Mike's and so, of course, I have a prejudice to them. And furthermore, Michele should be spelled with two l's unless you're in France, which we are not. Yes, I know that I also shouldn't start a sentence with 'and', so, shut up!)

"You mean, you're here to buy something off a registry?" she inquires.
"No, actually, we want to you register."
"YOU want to register?" the Brainiac questions.
"That's what I said."

Apparently, fat people don't get married in this part of the world. At least, that was the consensus Mike and I came to after this little question and answer session.

So, we start in the back of the store with bedding. Totally not impressed, we move onto the bathroom section. Getting back to the whole being fat thing, we want bath sheets. Not for nothing, who is covered by a bath towel? Certainly, not me, and definitely not, Mr. V. But forgive me, I can't imagine anyone paying $48 per towel and I don't have the co-jones to put that on my registry.

Onto dishes. This is the real reason why we wanted to go to PB. We fell in love with the Sausalito Blanco Collection in square. It is simple and we can throw in colors if we want to, add monogram napkins and a table runner to match, dress it up and dress it down, but most importantly, it comes in a square shape which is what we loved so much and probably the only thing we both can agree on when it comes to plates and bowls. Ok. Mike scans it. He loves the scanner by the way. I think all men do because it's like a dream job to just scan it all and not pay.

Next, we see all these cute Christmas accessories that match our set. We add to the registry snowflake mugs and stirrers and of course, Christmas wine tags which will look great on our over sized wine glasses and brandy snifters, which I have to admit, we only put on because they look kewl. I have never drank brandy nor do I plan on even inviting anyone over that will drink brandy. (You're a fine girl-- sorry, I randomly break out into song.)

We leave PB with the conclusion that we are more of the Target kinda people. Don't get me wrong, Pottery Barn has some beautiful stuff, but I can't see our friends and relatives buying us a throw blanket I can get for a quarter the price. But we did want to keep our registry because we love the dishes and coordinating pieces. Since we're not doing formal China, it's okay to have an everyday set that's a little more valuable than most people would get. And to satisfy the old folks who insist on fine China, this set can be dressed up for the most formal of occasions-- well, sorta!

I go home and can't wait to show my mom. However, when I log on, I see that almost all of my items are unavailable online. I instantly email PB with my disappointing disposition. They send me a personalized response and suggest searching for the items as sets rather than individual as I had originally registered for them. And guess what, still I can't find my items. I respond back with this information and it turns out the square dishes can only be bought in the store. Total freakin bummer considering almost no one we know lives near a Pottery Barn.

They totally suck! And that's all I gotta say.

Target may have a stinky return policy, but you know what, we'll take our chances.

Tar-jey, here we come!

Holy Crap-- A Year to the Day

Am I freaking out? Not yet. Am I excited? Hellz yeah mofo! I am butt-crazy, super ridiculously psyched that in a little less than a year (try 365 days minus a few hours), I'll be the new Mrs. V. Woo hoo! I feel like quoting JBJ and saying 'We're half way there' because when we first started out on this journey, November 8, 2008 seemed so far away and now it's almost here. It's amazing how time flies. (I swear that I really do hate cliches.) I feel like I was just writing one of my first posts the other day at 13 months-- and that was more than 30 days ago!

Everyone said that eventually, time would fly and things would feel like they were happening faster than I could comprehend. And not to say that everything I heard is true, but it kinda is.

The cutest thing? My fiance who was once the biggest vajayjay when it came to publicly expressing his emotions actually changed his myspace name to One Year to the Day last night around 12 AM. Not that I live by what he puts on a website, I thought it was a total sign of his excitement and eagerness to get married.

What else has been going on? We took advantage of an awesome sale at Levitz and bought all of our furniture. Mike picked out a leather couch and we opted for two arm chairs instead of a love seat. I showed him the table I've been pining over Sunday news pull out after Sunday news pull out and he fell in love, too. (Not just b/c of it's beauty but also because it would make a good card table. Gotta love him!) And our bedroom set has that old look about it with dark wood and tall pieces, except the accent and metal knobs give it a modern twist. We opted for a king size so we can say 'see ya in the morning' and also, in case our fur baby or someday, child, has a bad dream, we'll still have plenty of room.

Next on the agenda is to register. I know it's early but my family wants to know what to get us for Christmas and being that we're moving into our new apartment about 11 months before the wedding, we're going to need some stuff. We're not going to go overboard but we'll put some fun and functional stuff on there and then about 6 months or so before the wedding, we'll redo it for the shower.

And that's about it. Stay posted for my thoughts on registering. I'm hoping it's as fun as it sounds! :)

First Comes Luck, then Comes Marriage

That's me with my ridiculously cheesy smile. I'm wearing a sample size 12 (yeah, my fat ass 18 is squeezed like a bracciole into a Maggie Sottero corset back 12!). I love the intricate work on top and the lace on the bottom. Taffeta is slimming as is the draped waist. Finally, Kelly, of Kelly's Creations on 18th Avenue, is custom making my veil for me. It's going to have a lace trim like a mantilla, with a third tier on it's own comb that will be of Cathedral length. I have to say, I'm going to look freakin awesome! The veil is almost as much as the dress. My mom loved it so much that she offered to pay for my veil. Woo hoo! Go Mommy!

I highly recommend going to Kelly. She's awesome and (no offense, Kell,)also Fabulous And Trying. She knew exactly which dress would look good on me. She had it picked out from the moment I told her I was coming in. I couldn't have been happier and giddier.

Yes, I became that little girl who dreamed of her wedding day. Blah blah blah. Actually, I was never that kinda kid. I always wanted to get married but my life didn't revolve around it until about March of 2007, but that's because every time I slam my hand down or bump into a door, I'm attacked by this rock that's on my finger. It's like a constant reminder. Oh yeah, and also the fact that my living room is now a newsstand with tons of magazines and clippings. Mike's PS2 is completely covered by a stack of mags. He doesn't even try to get to it anymore. Poor Tiger, he has no one to play him now. Maybe that will force us to get on a real golf course and not just one on TV.

As I started alluding to earlier, I never understood those chicks that bought bridal magazines before they were engaged. Mike's ex girlfriend had a whole box of them and not only did he see it, but she voluntarily showed him as a way of hinting towards a ring. I also never got those girls who had their entire bridal party picked out since they were twelve. Finding partners for the science fair was tough enough for me. And then there were the girly girls who had this whole picture of colors and flowers in mind. Again, it was difficult enough picking out a comforter for my bed to match my purple walls (bad decision by an eleven year old who finally got her own room).

To me, finding a loving man to marry was only a bonus to the successful life I already had. I'm a true woman of this century. I have an education and a career. Getting married is just the icing on the cake-- a very big and expensive cake that is! And although I am recently becoming more and more obsessed with my wedding, I know that in a year, it will all be done and I'll get back to being the terrific daughter, sister, teacher, writer, and friend that I always was meant to be. The only difference is that in twelve months and six days, I'll also be a wonderful wife. (Now, that really makes me smile.)

Getting married shouldn't be a goal. It isn't something to be accomplished or congratulated for. When I first announced my engagement, friends and family congratulated me. One of my co-workers, however, said 'good luck' rather than 'congratulations' and she explained that finding a man to marry me isn't something to be admired like winning a contest or completing a degree. Instead, you celebrate in other ways and you wish the couple the best of luck. Marriage and love, in general, is sometimes more about luck than it is about hard work. Let me explain this better.

First comes luck, then comes marriage. I use this analogy when I teach basic chemistry to my hardcore biology majors who refuse chem, although they take about as many credits in chemistry as they do in bio. So, as I was saying, I explain to the class that for every person, there is another who is waiting to meet them. I say that people are like molecules. Molecule A will meet with Molecule B and hopefully, form Molecule C. However, it's sometimes hard for Molecules A and B to meet. That's where an enzyme comes in. Enzymes are like the Match.com of chemistry. Enzymes don't speed up a reaction, they just help A and B meet quicker. Then, I go on about how we live in the big city and it's rare that we bump into our partner, even if they take the same exact train as us at the same moment we do. It's an analogy that goes on and on and is very useful in explaining how these helpful little proteins work in our bodies. Like this, I explain that we can't rely on luck in the body, and so, that's why we need enzymes.

More so, I'm using it now to show how lucky someone is when they meet the right one. Think about all the people you know and all the people you dated until you found 'the one'. It's amazing how long it took you or maybe, how long it's taking you. When you finally do meet him or her, you then start thinking about all the little steps you took before them or all the major life changes that went on before they were in your life. You start thinking things like 'right place, right time' or 'how did we never meet before' or 'what if we went to high school together' and so on and so on.

I'll use myself as an example. I was going to Rutgers in Newark, NJ and working on my PhD. That was an absolute disaster and I left after just one term. I was miserable and for about a year, I questioned myself constantly as to what the greater purpose was for me failing out. I always believed that everything happens for a reason. Well, what was my reason? It just so happens that when I returned back to Brooklyn, I started going out more with my friends. Yeah, I'd meet guys here and there, but nothing really special ever came out of it except for very comical stories. Finally, I met Mike through a friend who was meeting him online. I did her the favor of going with her to meet him.

The twist is that he is from New Jersey. So, I had to come back to Brooklyn to meet a guy from New Jersey?! How nuts is that? Okay, back to luck. It wasn't the first meeting that I stole Mike away. Actually, it was the second time I was dragged out to hangout with him. The night before, my wallet and my friend's wallet were stolen. (Bad luck!) Yet, she still managed to convince me to go to Atlantic City with her, Mike and his friend, Rob. It was pretty much against my will. She had a miserable time and I had fun. I was playing roulette and with the only twenty bucks I had in my pocket (remember, my wallet was stolen and it was a weekend so I couldn't even go to a teller to take out cash), I won about three hundred bucks. I was LUCKY. When I walked past Mike and Rob, who were hitting like crazy on Black Jack, Mike asked me how much I won. I was like 'I dunno' and then he helped me count my chips. It was then that he realized how cute I was and that's when I started flirting with him.

Disclaimer: No friends were hurt in the incidents described above. In other words, she didn't like him anyway. I even tried to convince her how great a guy he was! Go figure.

So, there you have it. Had I not failed out of grad school, I'd never hangout with my drinking buddy. I wouldn't be with her when she met Mike. I wouldn't have gone to Atlantic City with them, and certainly, I wouldn't have won all that money playing roulette which in turn led Mike to counting my chips and realizing how cute I was!