February 2005 Archives

Still working 14 hour days...will update as soon as the chaos ends on March 5th. Have discovered eating Subway every day does NOT lead to weight loss.

There has been a proposal. And there has been a teary, crumple-faced 'yes'. However, I'm freaked out by the whole idea of a wedding. I was never the kind of girl who planned her colors or perused Bride magazine with avid interest. Oh, I saw kids in my future. I even envisioned a possible husband (though to be honest, my visions usually had a slightly downtrodden aura of single motherhood). I just didn't daydream about walking down the aisle decked out in lace and tulle and all that puffy whiteness.

Don't get me wrong, it's amazing to be engaged. I gaze at the sparkly ring on my chubby left finger and am in a bit of a daze. I used to ask people, "how do you know?" How do you know when you've met the right one? I've heard stories about people locking eyes across a crowded restaurant and within minutes, they found themselves honeymooning in Bora Bora. Or about past lovers re-connecting and falling head over heels anew at a 30th high school reunion.

Relationships require herculean strength and a colossal amount of forgiveness. If you let yourself, the bad and sad parts can demoralize you and force you to question your sanity. Then again, if you ignore the problems, you face the danger of watching your honey morph into a stranger who is secretly screwing a stripper.

I've come to the conclusion it's about maintaining an almost religious reverence to reality. You have to be able to lovingly tend to athlete's foot, breathe the stinkiest morning breath, withstand truly evil PMS mood swings and still look each other in the eye. With past relationships, I was ready to break up if the guy farted. I used to gloss over the obvious issues. Like the fact that I had a penchant for dating men who inevitably discovered their inner gay boy. Denial isn't a river in Egypt and all that.

Reality isn't a downer. It's an incredible feeling to know that despite stretch marks, a propensity for dorkiness, and other unspeakable defects, someone loves and trusts me enough to want to invest a lifetime into this relationship. What a relief to know that I can be exactly myself and that's enough. The best part is that it works both ways. I am going to be a wife. With a husband! How weird. How remarkable.

This is called a daruma. I suppose it stands for dharma and is probably some bastardized Japanese-pronunciation-turned-English, but I never delved too much into it. When a Japanese friend gave me this odd looking doll about the size of a softball, the thing didn't have pupils. It had these eerie blank eye sockets, and you were supposed to fill out one of the eyeballs while making a wish. Once your wish came true, you fill out the other eyeball to give it a somewhat sane appearance. I think I got the Japanese character on its stomach (?) wrong, but you get the idea.

I'm shocked. Elated. In disbelief.

I'm also averaging about 3 hours of sleep per night. Something incredible has happened -- updates to come shortly.

Seeing as to how I'm losing the point that this is supposed to be FUN and not some forced daily medicine or exercise routine, I've decided to forego the daily illustrations until my work schedule lets up. I would have to say this run lasted a lot longer than most of New Year's resolutions from the past.

So now it's a more loosey-goosey, whenever-I-can deal. Ah, the relief. So nice.