Push Up the Limelight

The Extravaganza

2006-01-20T12:54:00.000-05:00

...As I myself am naming it.
My wedding dress weekend of shopping is beginning, tomorrow morning at 10am.

I am documenting for posterity.

I am excited, and a bit nervous, but looking forward to all the wedding discoveries they might possibly be in a world I have never entered.

We'll see what I decide on, the place I might possibly hold the wedding, and eat some cake. MMMM... wedding cake.

You'll get an update, I promise.

All About MeMe

2006-01-17T10:47:00.000-05:00

The first player of this game starts with the topic "five weird habits I have" and people who get tagged then write an entry about their own five weird habits as well as state this rule clearly.
In the end, you need to choose the next five people to be tagged and link to their web journals. Don't forget to leave a comment in their blog or journal that says you have been tagged (assuming they take comments) and tell them to read yours.

My Five Weird Habits:

1. When jeans shopping, I don't have to fully pull on the jeans to know if I'm going to buy them or not. I stop mid-thigh and if there is any feeling of 'can't move', they immediately come off. My body-sensitivity doesn't want to know that anything higher than mid-thigh will be terrifying in these jeans.

2. At my job I get to 'people watch' a lot. I have a 'system' of rating them that helps me keep focus on rainy or slow days. That system is still my secret.

3. It sounds corny or stupid, but I cannot leave the house in the morning without saying a small prayer for Michael while we are apart.

4. Blowdrying my hair is a very boring experience that I must do unless I want scary hair - I place my most current book between my two big toes and read while bent at the waist, blowdryer in hand, hair flipped over for 5-7 minutes - I ignore the hair, and enjoy my book.

5. I am a TV addict - so much so that we only have basic cable (2 religious channels, E!, TBS, etc) but I HAVE to watch at least a 1/2 hour of television as soon as I get home from work/rehearsal to relax. Sometimes it will be mindless channel-flipping, sometimes I will watch the ridiculous - Maury or Judge Brown - just to make my brain stop and take a break. Those in the house put up with it and many times the whole family - Michael and the kitties - will join me for a veg-fest.

Those I tag now? Well, since I don't have tons of blog people, Chan & Scot. If you read this - you may comment. ;)

It has begun...

2006-01-03T16:39:00.000-05:00

Wedding Dress shopping.

I have an appointment on January 22nd to have a dress consultation. I'm hoping this means that the consultant will not drive me into madness by doing whatever I DON'T want them to do. Luckily I will have my trusty mates with me: my mom and sisters. They are very good at beating off annoying sales persons with their fabulous handbags and a polite smile.

I just wonder what I'll end up with? And the toughest thing about the wedding will be this: NOT telling Michael what I've decided on. I'm also going to try and keep it a secret from my friends, as I would like them to be surprised with my decision (hopefully happily surprised) the day of.

On Monday Michael and I will be driving down to Story Inn to see if it's some place we would like to have our wedding held. I'm hoping the ugliness of January will not blind me, and I will see the possible beauty the place will have this October.

At this point, I'd be happy having the wedding at a friend's house, or in Sweetwater. Any place that doesn't cost MORE MONEY.

Have I told you I'm a money freak? I despise money, as I never have any, and it wakes me up at night and makes me cry and feel belittled. It worries me all the time, and I hate myself because I've brought up 'cost' regarding this wedding at least 10 times in casual conversation. Money sucks, and hopefully I will not feel guilty about my dress because it, too, will cost money.

Anyone care to wrap me in tulle and call it a day?

But I'm going to use my artistic creativity and talent for being el cheapo and plan an amazing day full of fun and friends and making sure I'm the prettiest girl in the room. Of course, with the gal pals I have, that might be a tough one to check off the list.

A Day in the Life

2005-12-17T14:04:00.000-05:00

My job is basically a glorified 'public service' position.

I am the '#1 Stop for Indianapolis Entertainment', and I am not the song-and-dance. I am the giver of information, and the fact that I am attached to a simon mall doesn't help at times. Many people assume I am the mall, and while I point them towards Old Navy, I'm praying someone will come up and ask me about art.

My college degree is in theatre, which is probably why I have this job, but I love the arts and try and wait patiently for the masses to tire of the Colt's winning streak and take in some dance or drama or symphony. Alas, this is America in the midwest, and we artists can seem difficult to unearth sometimes.

To give an example, the following are questions from individiauls I deal with daily, and many times I have not been able to stop my critique of their ramblings by the look on my face. To make this more succinct, as my friend Adrienne said, "I love my friends - but humanity sucks."

My Typical Day:

(man walks up to my desk)

Him: Do you have a map of the entire mall? I don't want a partial map.
Me: (sure, I'll make sure to paste in the stores I tore out from hatred of their overinflated prices) - Here you go.
Him: (while looking at the map). So we're at one end of the mall.
Me: (WHaa???) Yes, sir.
Him: And if I went up it would take me to the next level?
Me: (deadpanned) As God intended sir, yes.
Him: (pause, look of confusion) Okay, thank you. (leaves)

I really don't think people listen when they speak. Terrifying.

(Another man)
Him: Do you have a program for this? (currently Atheneum Pops Orchestra performing)
Me: No, I'm sorry, I wasn't given anything for this performance. (it isn't required that the performers do programs)
Him: How an I supposed to know what's going on??
Me: Without a program you will just have to sit back and enjoy the performance.
Him: Well, I won't be able to do that without a program. (walks away slightly huffy)

Well, okay then. Sorry your life cannot handle any surprises.

( Two girls and one guy come up)

Girl: Can you rent this space?
Me: (I know what's coming, it's our #1 question) Yes, for corporations, non for profit or government functions.
Girl: So, you don't do weddings here? (ching ching!!!! I win)
Me: No, unfortunately not.
Guy: Oh, I thought I had seen a wedding here.
Me: You probably saw a private function that looked very fancy. They can look like wedding receptions, but we have never held one.
Girl: Really? Are you SURE?
Me: (hold up ring on my left hand) Hon, I'M engaged and I work here full time. Even I am not allowed to get married here.
Girl: Oh, well, are you just saying that because you're not sure or because you were told??
Me: (whaaa??) On my very first day my boss, the director, said 'no weddings'. I promise you I'm not trying to keep you from getting married.
Girl: Well, if your boss told you, okay. (they walk away)

(why do they think by repeating the same question it will change the answer? The perfect example of insanity)

Seriously, as I am typing this, the Program Man just came up to me again. "wish I had a program so I could sing along..."
Dude, it's christmas music. You're at least 65 and look to be of the christian pursuasion. If you don't know Silent Night or O Holy Night or Winter Wonderland, that is you're own personal fault.

I always wonder why people repeatedly crab at you about the same thing over and over... do they think I have a vendetta against them and choose NOT to give them the beautious thing they crave for my own enjoyment?? If they state their problem once more will I respond with, "Okaaaaaaayyyy. You got me - I was hiding it behind the desk. I just LOVE to see people rilled up and you, sir, looked like a prime candidate. Give me SOME enjoyment out of life."

Merry Christmas.

...And Caviar Dreams

2005-12-01T14:08:00.000-05:00

Wedding wedding wedding fun. Tra la la!

My mom called me yesterday - while in Ft. Wayne with her galpal, Terri, she found some very cute champagne glasses and bought them. For the wedding! I don't think of these things, so that's what mothers are for. Right? Everyone needs a good mom, and I have always had one. Lucky me! :) Of course, she said if I didn't like them that she would return them, but we do have similar tastes and I have always liked her style and creativity, so I don't see me not enjoying them. Etched glass with polka dots. Hello, cute!
I think another thing is cute - that my mom is having fun with this. And I am supremely lucky to have all these amazing women around me to make it all so much fun. You always hear the horror stories about wedding planning with evil women. But my sister's wedding went along gorgeously and was the hit of the wedding season and everyone had fun and it was all memorable in a good way. My sisters, my cousin, and my future s-i-l are my bridesmaids and will be beautiful. That's the only thing I have figured out to this thing - my bridesmaids. They'll be gorgeous and fabulous because they already ARE and I cannot wait to have more fun with them in the coming months. Queries on bridal showers and engagement parties are popping up and I have no answers - and my loverly bridesmaids are helping keep my head on straight already. And keep reminding me, it's FUN!
I told Michael when I got home from work last night about the champagne flutes- and I am glad I am marrying a man who can be outwardly excited about such things with me. He thought it was terrific, calling them our first official to-be-married gift. And that's funny - because it's true.
Dress shopping and things of that wacky nature that I have never dreamt of are happening to me and it's bizarre to go from wondering what I would choose while I was dating Michael (our girly fantasy, right? You know when things are going well with a new dating-guy you start trying out his last name to your first 'just to see'. Yeah, girly girls, you know who you are/or where!) to actually making the choice. Why? Because I've never thought seriously about marrying anyone - and it's something new happening in my life. And it can actually be fun!

All I know is that I want to marry Michael because I have found a person who says 'I love you so much' before anything else when he stretches awake every single morning. He is my knight on his noble steed - if you count the noble steed as Bensen, our black kittywumpus who I think would sound like James Earl Jones if he could only learn English. He and Mike are buddies. But Michael is my champion, a man who will fight to protect me and keep me safe from the meanies of the world. He helps me stand up for myself, and makes me laugh a lot. And that is what is most important.

The Death of a Fossil

2005-11-30T15:38:00.000-05:00

I just killed a cockroach at work. About 10 seconds ago. We're looking at a score of 52-0 in my favor. I don't know how they've worked on my sanity, though. They are everywhere - and with the weather changing, like my favorite transients, they are deciding to move to warmer environments. Downtown northern city, baby. Gotta love it.
I was thinking of stringing my victims up on cardboard hangman nooses as a warning to all other roaches who feel the urge to peruse my vicinity. But the ants at my old apartment never seemed to have that meeting. "You know... every time we enter that room, many of us don't come out..."

It doesn't make bringing your lunch and leaving it out unattended for a few seconds appealing.

And these guys are fearless! This one-inch creature was strutting his stuff about two feet to my left, not hiding in any crevices. He was mocking me. Just out there, on his busy-way day until my clog came off and *smack* *smack*! It took two deathblows from a size 9 1/2. Poor guy - makes me want to change to Buddhist for a few minutes for my guilt. But he taunted me! He had a deathwish! He had to have a suicide note that the little roach cops will find in the morning - though they never haul away the bodies. That job belongs to me. Usually copy paper works best as a scooper. And I have also found I am the entire funeral service for these guys, too. After dumping them in the trashcan I pray that the bug I have just obliterated will find peace in his roach afterlife and if there is such a thing as true karma, he will not be my boss in my next life. Or I will not be him.

I am just glad I'm not freaky about roaches. They are technically harmless, right? It's not 1804 anymore and they don't reek of unclean homes and life before peroxide. Aesthetically they are not fuzzy or huggable yet if one crawled on your hand it would just check you out, maybe give you a lick - it won't bite. Huggy super-cute polar bears will gore you even on a good day, so looks don't count. Even if Mr. Unfuzzy finds you appalling, it probably won't even leave you any smelly gifts or give you a glaring look (well, it might glare; it could be tough to tell). And they can carry disease, such as typhoid and dysentery. BUT - I did some research on these little critters and found out some interesting facts:
1. There are 5,000 species of these guys worldwide, mostly tropical.
2. Some females mate just once and are then preggers for the rest of their life. Bummer.
3. They can hold their breath for up to 40 minutes. Why?
4. They use their antennae as noses and greet their family and friends by odor. Sassy.

Also, only 1% are house pests.
At least I know the other 99% are safe from my clutches.
For now.

2005-11-22T15:45:00.000-05:00

MANY THOUGHTS, MANY TANGENTS,
MANY CHANGES, MUCH LOVE . . .

Michael has found that he can't wait any longer - that we must be official. So, he has asked me to be his wife and I have happily accepted.
I've made that sound rather unromantic haven't I? Hmmmmm . . (me figuring out why I immediately wrote it that way) we have been together for two years. I knew within the first week of meeting him that I wanted to marry him. He felt the same. Most of those who know us know that we want to get married - two of my girlfriends discussed after my first date with Mike at a jazz club, The Chatterbox, that "you two are going to get married, we know it".
We were introduced by a mutual friend at her birthday party a week earlier, Halloween 2003, and I felt a 'wham' when I first saw him. And when he turned out to be interesting and funny and a nice touch of shyness thrown in, 'wham' again. So my unromantic post above is explainable in that I have always known I was going to marry him, even through our trials and tribulations there was some pull towards him - but the ring and the proposal made me cry quite a lot, and also his zeal in loving me so much. So, YIPPEE!! I'm getting married!!!!!!!!
When it becomes 'real', that this person decided that they think it would be great to spend their days growing old and changing with you, it's much more concrete or palpable than just being a serious boyfriend/girlfriend. We have had those - but I have never had a husband. What an adventure THAT will be. I am truly excited about my future with Mike and all the adventures we'll have together: we are best friends, confidants, cheerleaders, and fabulous fighters. But we always make up.
Last night we were discussing that fights (good fights, nothing played dirty or hateful) are healthy for relationships because they bring out a depth of feeling that is neccessary to learn more about the opposite person. Those who already have good fights with their 'other' already know this, I am sure, but I like to enjoy the discovery of new thoughts. Maybe this means we'll fight more now (I doubt it) but I'm amazed that I can find a person who fights like me - or maybe not like me, but with me, not against. It's to solve the problem, not to hurt.
Tangent! ...
The hardest part of the engagement was keeping it secret long enough to tell my parents in person. Two weeks! Two long weeks where I wanted to call or email my mom and say, 'i'm getting married to Michael and I'm really really happy about it and it's going to be fun' and she would be happy. Because we're girls - and we like planning parties.
We finally were able to tell them on the day they were moving to their new lakehouse in southern Indiana. I love this house - it's amazing in part because it's a tangible object (in my eyes) of how hard my father and mother have worked to provide for their three girls and getting us through college (all at once!) and it's something they deserve that is more permanent and will give them a lot of pleasure and great new memories. Of course, they were exhausted, having been up since 6am to drive a U-Haul 3 hours south and move everything in. Luckily, they had their closest friends with them, the Gehrke's and Jim Z., to help and make it more fun. They were crashed on any sittable object and had just finished up some amazing pasta and salad and wine and were watching The Sound of Music when we pulled up at 8pm in the dark through the most winding roads you could ever conceive through the rolling hills of Brown County.
Mom showed me the house, and while I love her decorating style and cleverness with painting wrought-iron teal blue I could hardly concentrate on more than the band on my left hand hidden in my jean pocket. After a good 1/2 hour, my parents were missing but our extended family (I have known the Gehrke's my whole life) was in the living room, Mike and I scampered down the stairs to the laundry room, where they were discussing the idiodicy of the contractors not putting in a VENT for the dryer and joking about the room being nice and humid as a plus, though.
While standing around the old round wooden table I grew up eating every meal off of as a tiny tot, with 'hello mom' etched permanently into the table from some long-ago art/love project that hung on the yellow fridge, I told my parents that I was getting married. We were hugged, teary-eyes, and laughing. Dad hugging me for a long long time... it was good. What I wanted. And soon mom was wanting to go upstairs and spread the good news and there was screaming upstairs and everyone was so happy. And mom was glad I didn't email the news or call her on the phone - I think such a big announcement deserves some much needed face-to-face time. But they were genuinely glad about our plans to marry.
Why? Did I think they would be upset by the news? Well, Michael and I had a tough beginning 4 months into our newly blossoming relationship. Really crappy stuff that could of upset everything, stopped us cold, but we toughed it out, knowing we loved one another and knowing we were 'right'; and we discovered how strong we really were.
I know some of that debacle still resides in my memory and I think I was relieved to see that disquietude was gone from my family's faces - it was not a factor in who we are now. Confusing? Okay - understand when I tell you an old friend who was off medication and very territorial of me flipped her lid and tried to get me to leave him by every means neccessary. So I had to make a choice, and I chose the man I wanted to share a future with, and I haven't been let down by that choice. Rather he has shown me in every way that he is a worthy man, a good man, and a true friend. I do thank my old friend in a way for coming unhinged - it pulled Michael and I closer together and we fought for truth just like superheros. She was always a difficult friend, and like my pal Angela said in her own post, it was time to let go of those who clutter your life and aren't positive. So I am happy with the outcome, though I wish it hadn't been so wretched and I could let go of the remaining guilt I feel. I will, it just takes time. I wish her all the best, that her life be full with her husband and beautiful little boy, and she enjoys all that this life can offer.
Tangent!...
So, planning will start eventually regarding the wedding, but my fabulous bridesmaids and mom will make it so much fun and we'll enjoy ourselves. I can't wait to see what I decide on. As I'm sure this blog will turn into a wedding website and I'll turn into one of THOSE women....

The future Mrs. Michael Jackson. (Yes, yes, I know).

2005-11-07T12:25:00.000-05:00

A Whole Lotta Love - Zeppelin. Good song. It's been running through my brain for a quarter of an hour and I'm wondering why. And my thoughts never sing the song the whole way through - it's more of a stop/start and quite a bit of repeat on the crazy guitar note that sounds like a 'zimmmmppphhhh' in decension. It's hard to explain via words. If there was audio right now you would hear that same guitar noise.

But it's better than something evil. Yesterday I had something from a boy band stuck in my head. Since I don't recognize which boy goes to which band, the same regarding which song, and I only knew about 8 bars of it . . . those 8 bars kept repeating and repeating and repeating. It was disconcerning and put me in a foul mood.

Maybe Zeppelin is in my head since I have had a revolutionary night. Good stuff. Fabulous stuff. It's all internal right now, but will become available for others soon and things are good so no worries there. Yes, these lines are complete babble. TQ here.

What is that called? Some repetitive disorder that stops my brain from all else. There has to be a medical term for it because everyone has it! You know you do - some Carpenters song stuck in your head for 6 hours (usually just one special line) and you're stuck in traffic thinking, "laaa la la la laaaaa . . . close to yooouuuuu." And you don't know if you hate yourself for actually enjoying the smooth sounds of Karen's pipes or not. But I really like Karen - no one can sing like that.

2005-11-01T19:33:00.000-05:00

I was thinking of an old friend today.

My first big crush. The boy who made me cry all the time. The boy I haven't seen in over 12 years but think about whenever I travel home and see the places we knew together.

When I was 15, I fell in love. With this european boy. Which set my love for all things European aflame from that moment on. He was beautiful, never an unkind word about anyone, and other than me being his friend, he never knew I cried over him many times. And once even in front of my mother. I like to think that because he was so hot, that was why I cried. But no, I was experiencing my first mega crush, and I was crushing hard. I cried because he didn't love me as I loved him, and I was so fabulous, what was wrong with him?

He came to America as an exchange student and ended up attending college here, also. He was famous in my small town; for his feats of 20+ points during college basketball and being the star of the college soccer team. And the fact that he was incredibly nice and funny and a bit of a mystery with an accent didn't hurt the reputation (and did I let you know he was good looking?) I felt I had 'dibs' and while working as a waitress I overheard a table full of girls gabbing and caught his name in the chatter. I asked them if they went to his college (I was a junior in HS) and they were amazed that I knew him - that he was my friend. And excited that I knew him. Question after question... It was all very "teen-heartthrob" with the entire town!!! It felt very satifying to let them know that we 'hung out', and these college chicks had no clue. Yup - I miss those small towns.

Eventually he left me for greater things and took my heart with him, back to the land of wooden shoes. I was just thrilled I got to hug him before he left for the airport. And that I remember very vividly, too.

Many moons later, years and years, I received information that my lovely crush was doing very well for himself over in Europe. Oh, indeed, very well.

He became a Paris model - I flipped my lid. Did I say he was gorgeous? Then later he was the host of a Dutch television show called Yorin. Now he has written a book that has been published. He has the whole agent thing going and I am so incredibly happy for him. My Arie. My first crush, my first achingly adolescent pain that I could never name, other than knowing it burned and crushed my chest and that NO ONE had ever felt as I felt.

I am 30 now, and I believe he'll be 32 in January - yes, I still remember his birthday... I was obsessed with the boy. Journal entry after journal entry you can find, dating back to 1990. I even have the entry regarding the day I met him: at my mom's best friend's house on July 15th, 1990 - Arie was coming out the front door and I was walking in. I was hit by a brick the second I saw him and that smile.

Our relationship consisted of everything a teenage girl could dream of in a first crush: humor, beauty, manners, airplanes, accents, worries about clothing and makeup. And that first kiss. Alas, that has never happened. But maybe that is good. What if he was terrible (unlikely) and it ruined the picture in my head? So in my mind he is the perfect kisser. I want to keep it that way. They only thing about my first crush is that it was never reciprocated: nothing past friends.

A few years ago my mom's best friend gave me his email - and I actually wrote him. Let him know that I had heard of his 'good fortune' and wished him well. Secretly I think I was praying he would see my name and profess undying love. Where have you been all these years and I have pined for you as you pined for me. Every girl wants at least ONE fantasy to come true in their life, right?
And he wrote back! Chatting about the hometown and how fun it would be to come back and visit and rehash. Simple, nice, nothing romantic, but fond and sweet. And there again he didn't disappoint - he responded! Nothing less was to be expected from him, as he is so nice and perfect in my eyes.

Of course, he hasn't come back to visit. But a european schedule of being gorgeous and famous and successful doesn't have time for small towns and old loves. How many times has Britney Spears gone back home and married a high school friend...??? Nevermind.

I am glad I never knew him intimately or deeply. It would of shown me all the imperfections in him that the surface hides. It would of ruined the image. I like to keep him locked tightly in my memory, of fun and niceties and cow-eyed looks and stumbling to talk. I like the innocence I had in my views of who he was. And he has never disappointed me even when he is so far out of my reach. On top of staying perfect in my mind, he seems perfect on the resume, and I have yet to find a flaw. He could of ended a shoe salesman or garbage collector or sex pervert, but instead it's the model, the writer, the TV personality, the hunky actor. I could never of wished the First Big Crush to be anything better than it was, tears and all.

I am sure Arie will let me keep him that way. He's too nice and perfect not to.

For more info on Arie: http://www.arieboomsma.nl/foto.html

2005-11-01T16:27:00.000-05:00

My Arie.

2005-10-31T15:20:00.000-05:00

So the picture makes me laugh.
I thought it might be a good way to start off a personal website. Why not?

I use my friends' blogs to catch up on their lives and am hoping you will be able to stay current with me and my rambunctious and amazing life as a cultural concierge (yes, the job is as brilliant as the title). This will keep my brain occupied on all those hours that it's going going gone before the day is through.

As for today, the beautifully wicked candy-loving dress-up Halloween day:

First off, it is my unofficial 2nd anniversary with michael, my favorite boy who is my best friend (start puking now) and a super look-out-for-you and cry-on-your-shoulder and laugh-the-hardest-with boy I have yet to meet. We are looking to get hitched and make babies and live on a farm with australian shepherds and some Irish sheep and yellow ponies in the middle of nowhere to suit our happy existance sometime in the future - but we're already kind of married as we live together and share everything but taxes - and that will come soon enough with a marriage liscense. Whoopeeeeeeeeee.... don't even get me started on bills.

Secondly, I was able to wear my Ugg boots to work today b/c of the chill in the air. As the magazines are screaming that they are out of ugly fashion, I will still diligently wear mine in protest of everything that they stand for that I still greedily and guiltfully read . As I love my cutesie boots and they make my feet toasty (and they never are warm) and I feel like I get to dress-down by wearing them, and my clothes are all about comfort anyway, and as I never buy or ask for anything expensive unless I really really love something - and I love these boots. And I love my parents for the birthday present from last year that they are.

Thirdly, does the winter-blues happen to a lot of us? I am not feeling lethargic, but more for the need to road trip - to get away to the fall colors and tromp through leaves and forget that the bills are piling up (my personal stupid bills of thinking I could handle credit, which I couldn't THEN, but can NOW because I screwed myself so royally and how can you pay anything off when you're making the bare minimum to live off - when was the last time at the grocery store? - and can a $20 minimum REALLY pay off that card that keeps applying fee after fee after fee?)But the Pollyanna in me will try to remember that you have it pretty lucky; with a roof over your head and someone who loves you desperately and helps support you and a strong family tie and two cute kitties to make you smile and think you're great. And my friends.

I have this wonderful group of girlfriends that I am bonding with. We met in a theatre production and have kept tight - and that doesn't happen a lot in theatre circles, as you're always off to the next show and the next group of "instant friends". But we have bonded and have the same sensibilities on life and acting - and we're fun. We gossip and joke and worry over one another and have what I call a 'snarky' sense of humor - a lot of attitude, quips that could crush a lesser man, and a general overall outlook that our discussions are hilarious and full of whiticisms. Which they actually are. We're like-minded, and it's nice to have them around.

So, I'm trying to not sing the blues while all of life's little annoyances trickle over me, and just do the best I can every day.

Quote for the day:

"Biography lends to death a new terror."
------Oscar Wilde

Ohhhh, beware my terror. And the huge manatee.