Ordinary Saturdays

Blogfriends, it's time.  The eventual wedding is over.  Time to move on.  Within a few weeks I will have pictures to illustrate my wedding stories, which may be where I leave some of you.  For the few of you interested in life after wedding, it starts with a wedding-day story.

I mentioned before that DJ and I wrote letters to each other, to be kept secret and read at the ceremony by friends of ours.  Our officiant kept his homily a surprise as well.  We, along with many well-wishing cards, referenced the same idea.  We all fixed on the same thought, a theme that came first from DJ's proposal.  Ring in hand, he said that loved our ordinary Saturdays, and asked me to spend mine with him.

So, of course.  Ordinary Saturdays.  The next chapter in my bad-neighboring, bacon-eating, project-starting, fun-running, recipe-ignoring life.  See you there?

the honeymoon is over

After the wedding, DJ and I dropped our dog at his parents' house and drove to Michigan.
We napped. We watched movies. We ate pie from a farmstand. We screwed up the zoom on the camera. I went for one single pathetic three mile run up and down the main road past our B&B.
We went antiquing. I bought a silverplate champagne bucket. DJ held tiny things in his enormous hands to make me laugh.

We spent an afternoon in St. Joseph, and killed an hour reading over hot chocolate.

We had dinner at an Italian restaurant that was a resort in the 1930's, now tucked quietly in a residential neighborhood along the lakeshore. It was delicious.

We also went wine tasting. I didn't know that Michigan had vineyards, but it does. Trivia: it's on the same latitude as Washington State, and roughly the same as the south of France. Different soil and weather, of course - but lots of grapes.

DJ's aunt and uncle gave us a stellar wedding gift. They arranged for our B&B to pack a picnic basket (with wine!) and deliver gift certificates to three nearby wineries.

This aunt and uncle actually got married at Round Barn several years ago. They no longer host weddings, but they have excellent wine, and recently also vodka and beer. (Try the cocoa stout. Trust me.)

On our last day we had an amazing lunch at Tabor Hill's restaurant.

We ordered polenta fries with truffled aioli, and a lobster-scallop "cigar" with a sweet/spicy dipping sauce. Those were just the appetizers, then we had lunch!

We finally figured out the camera zoom.

So now we're newlyweds. Newlyweds with two cases of Michigan wine in the guest bedroom. That ought to get us through the first few days weeks months.

DIY flowers: I did it!

At 9:30 in the morning the FedEx guy wished me a happy marriage. He left three boxes; two deceptively narrow, one the size of a small coffin.

Thirteen hours later...
(There are a few more pieces, including one big mama of a bouquet for me.) I'll tell you all about it in a week or so. I'm off to get married! I have had such a good time at EAD, getting advice about veils and family struggles and enjoying all of your ideas. After 21 months of I have an idea and I think I could make that, it's all happening!

Although, at the moment I am most excited about handing my bouquet to Katie so I can hold DJ's hands. Walking back down the aisle together. Sneaking glances at his hand with a ring on it. Doing the stand-and-sway to a sappy song. Celebrating a life ten years in the making, and worth every minute.

words of love

During our ceremony, two of our friends (a happily married couple) will read letters that DJ and I have written to/about each other. She will read what I wrote, he will read what DJ wrote. We are not sharing our letters with each other before the ceremony, so it might be a very nice and genuine moment.

But then we had this discussion over e-mail.

Me: I’m excited to hear what you wrote. Unless you are going to have {friend} get up there and yell WHO FANCY NOW! Because that would be stealing my idea.
DJ: You can have “Who fancy now.” {Friend} is going to holler “Who gonna check me, boo?” and do the head shake thing that goes with it.

We are a very romantic couple.

If you were the Baltic Sea and I were a cup

Humor me, I'm dated. More or less intentionally.

I listened to Mike Dougherty sing Janine over and over the first summer that DJ and I were re-dating. It was 2006. I was 25. It was exactly the right sound for how I felt then, and now it takes me back. To 25 and humid lake breezes and the agonizing wait from Wednesday to Friday.

We hadn't yet told our families, but Katie and Chloe had already heard quite a bit and thought it was promising. I thought so too.


The sleepless lyrics made me feel romantic about my insomniac habits (since reformed.) But the thing that really stuck, really resonated with me then, was being so besotted with someone that you couldn't get enough. In that respect, not much has changed.

sweet, hot, saucy

I've been doing a lot of not-wedding-related stuff. Enjoying the lull before the big checkbook bleed in September. On Friday DJ and I met some friends at the Naperville Rib Fest for some not-wedding-dress-friendly barbeque.
This was half an hour after the gates opened. An hour later it was completely covered with people.

But it's worth it for the barbeque, served pretty much any way you could want it. Dry rubbed, sauce on the side, or swimming in it. Sweet, hot, or brain-searing.

Contemplating the possibility of another bite.
When I asked how much cash I should bring, DJ said that it's the man's place to buy the pork products. Which is a variety of sexism that I find entirely inoffensive.

his, mine, ours

(also at EAD)

DJ and I have lived together for just over two years, since before we were engaged. When we were ready to move in together he was ready to buy. I was not. I was sort of adamantly against us owning property together before we were married, although I had no problem with living together unmarried. We’d recently seen friends of ours go through a breakup where there was joint property ownership, and I wouldn’t wish that trial on anyone. There are no laws to protect you if you aren’t married. If your mortgage partner doesn’t pay their share, guess what? You’re liable, and there’s no separation agreement to divide bills (in my state...)

So our condo is in DJ’s name only. Not because I thought we might break up, but because if we did that would be one less horrible thing to handle. We also shopped within “his” price range. If for any reason I weren’t paying the mortgage, he could swing it. If we’d broken up, I could have moved out without him selling or finding a roommate in a hurry. If living together had been awful, we’d have been heartbroken but not homeless. It’s also comforting in this job market that we could get by on one salary if necessary.

We’ve never treated it like “his” place, though. We’ve made improvements together to our home. But - I don’t have a renter’s agreement, which in a really ugly situation could be useful. DJ doesn’t have any legal right to charge me rent, nor do I have any legal right to live in our home. I also have no legal claim to any appreciation or reimbursement for any improvements we’ve made. Those were risks I was willing to take, but writing up a basic agreement for those things probably isn’t a bad idea.

once upon a (long) time

(also at EAD)

By the time DJ and I are married, we will have been engaged for 21 months. The reasons were:
- Financial
- I thrive on research and anticipation
- We preferred fall to spring or summer

So we are having a long-ish engagement. It’s been fun for us, partly because we already live together and so aren’t in a hurry to get married for that reason.

About two months ago one of my coworkers asked his girlfriend to marry him. They have set a date for the end of August, a full month before the end of my long-ish engagement. ::hilarity ensued:: Just this past weekend they signed their first contract, which makes me want to hire them a wedding planner, STAT.

But they seem totally happy about their timeframe. They’re a few years older and six years into their relationship, so I can understand why they didn’t swan around on wedding blogs for 21 months. I don’t know yet if I’ll rate an invitation, but I hope so. I expect all my feelings of romance to be at a high around then.

My absolute favorite thing about wedding planning has been seeing that there are so many ways to arrive at married. But I wonder. If you weren’t waiting to save money or pacify family members or buy peonies in season, what would be the ideal length of your engagement?

raspberry sorbet

Today I was feeling kind of congested and crappy, so I missed going out to dinner with DJ and his mom. He came home with raspberry sorbet and a bride magazine. You're the best boyfriend ever, I told him. No, he corrected, Best fiancé ever. Then he brought me a spoon.

Not that he's gunning for points or anything.

save a horse, ride a Schwinn bike

I biked to work this morning. 19 hilly miles, one way. It's a thing I do now and then when the weather is nice and I feel energetic.
I meant to ride 19 miles the other way too, but after just a few miles I found this shiny piece of glass.
It's pretty, but I think I'd like it better somewhere other than lodged in my rear tire.

I called DJ, who drove to rescue me and my gimp bike. While waiting for him I took pictures of the sky, which was doing the wonderful midwestern thing that is best described as lowering.

It is good to go places under my own steam, and very good to have the option of rescue.

the bride's side

(also at EAD)

I’m not inviting my dad to the wedding. Let alone having him walk me down an aisle. He’s alive, well, and lives two miles away. But if he shows up uninvited, the ushers are also bouncers.

He was by all appearances a good dad. He went to work five days a week, church on Sundays, and seemed perfectly normal. Unless you lived with him, and then it was no good at all.

When I was in college, circumstances changed and it seemed worth another chance. Which did not go all that well. So I changed a few more things and for some time we maintained the kind of Christmas and Thanksgiving relationship that sort of gets you out of being a complete orphan.

Two years ago DJ and I moved in together, and three months after that my dad failed again, this time with my little brother. He was eighteen at the time, so when my dad called to tell me that the kid was homeless, I was absolutely concerned. Crying in frustration and anger, concerned.

But really, this isn’t a story about my dad at all, or even my brother. It’s about DJ. He handed me a Red Stripe and asked what we could do. We. What we did was bring my brother to live with us, and for a year and a half DJ was as generous as he would have been with his own brother. Maybe more. More than anyone would have expected. It was enough to get my brother on his feet, with savings and a plan and (still) a key to our house. DJ has never once made anyone feel bad about this; it was just the thing to do and we did it.

My dad, by the way, has never admitted the utter crappiness of his actions. Or thanked either of us for pinch-hitting as parents, to the possible detriment of our relationship. (We were actually pretty good, and our relationship hasn’t seemed to suffer.) So my dad is out of chances. DJ is very diplomatic. If there are sides, he is always on mine. I know he thinks the current plan in the best one, but if I changed my mind he’d support that too.

That “for better or for worse” thing is no joke. Things can get worse and worse and worse, until you can’t remember when things were better. It’s really good to have someone to hand you a Red Stripe and get to work on a solution. It’s really good to be on the same team.

oh, THAT color? really?

Today DJ had a work thing, and I was invited. But I didn't really want to go, so instead I stayed home and shampooed our carpets. I practice avoidance/procrastination in odd ways.

I need to call my mom and ask her if this is her fault somehow.

The carpets really needed to be cleaned, though. I don't know if I should feel good (about cleaning them) or bad (about them needing it so badly.)

six

DJ and I both have calendar counters on our iGoogle pages. Mine says "0 years 6 months 0 days." His says "183 days: 9 hours: 16 minutes: 35 seconds."

We like a slightly different level of detail.

honey do

An incomplete list of things about which I’ve asked DJ to form an opinion:

Fonts. White vs. cream paper. Bridesmaid dresses. Bridesmaid dresses, again. Shades of ivory shoes. Single vs. doubleface satin ribbon. Varieties of roses. Length of linens for the head table. Wording on the invitations. Kerning on return addresses. Music for the ceremony, cake cutting, and first dance. How to transport mannequins safely. Which prom dress to buy for a mannequin. Whether his mom should have a wrist or pin corsage. If he likes this shade of blue-green fabric, or this one. Is this purse too small? Do my fake eyelashes look too fake? Cake toppers. Programs or no programs. Too-red hair, or not red enough? Chairs or no chairs for the ceremony? If chairs, are the cheap white folding ones ok or do we need to spring for the more expensive wood ones? One escort card per couple, or one per person? Are these candles ivory or white?

No wonder they say the wedding is for the girl. Sorry, DJ. AND, he is somewhat colorblind. To his credit, he has come up with an opinion for every one of the points listed, and if pressed can even support his position. Without giving me a hard time. I think I'd better marry him.

white and pink and blades of blue

Last night DJ took me to see Jeff Tweedy play at the Vic. If you're near Chicago, you probably know the Vic as a brew-n-view, and also a really cool place to see a show.

Tonight we're going again, after dinner at the French restaurant just down the street from home. I'm going to bring my real camera this time, the cell phone just didn't do the job.


Until Wednesday I thought we were just going out for dinner - then he forwarded the ticket confirmation with a note - Happy Valentine's Day - think you can get off work a little early on Friday? Followed a few minutes later by another - Would it be better if we were going Saturday night too? Because we're going Saturday night too.


Oh yes, that is better! Mr. Tweedy fronts Wilco, my longstanding favorite band. Some would say that he is Wilco, since he's also the songwriter. I'm a big fan. We happened to hear a whisper that there were signed posters in the lobby for sale - just a few - and managed to snag one. I guess I must not be quite grown up yet, because I see nothing wrong with framing it for the living room.

On a more Valentine-y note, this is the song he sings to his wife in every show I've seen in a while.

Mister Fabulous

Liz gave me this award today for having a fabulous blog. I like the yellow dress, and I'm supposed to make a list, but first I must tell this story.

DJ likes to play games on his Xbox while I do other things. It works nicely; I rarely pay attention, and he never expects me to do so. But every so often I notice a detail, and from then on refer to the game by that detail. A while ago he was playing a game where one of the characters is a superhero named Mr. Fantastic. I was (per usual) not really paying attention, so the next time he was playing I asked if that was the Mister Fabulous game. And, well, that's what I've called it ever since, to DJ's exasperated amusement. Sometimes we are Lucy and Ricky, what can I say.

(photo of a picture snipped from The Knot Chicago, in Bridesmaid Chloe's wedding colors - if she doesn't start a wedding blog soon, I'm going to do it for her.)

Anyway, I'm to list five obsessions or addictions of mine. I'm never very good at these things, but here you go anyway.

1. Singing songs to my dog with the words reworked to be about him. Usually with not that much creativity. (Judy in disguise = Reilly in disguise)

2. Currently, hunting thrifted silverplate. Yesterday I trucked a large shopping bag up and down Lincoln Avenue and mostly filled it. Today I played with all the shiny things to see how close I was to a finished, and felt exactly like a little girl playing wedding.

3. Cake. Good cake. I am the proverbial fat kid who loves cake, even at times when I'm not all that fat. I'm a cake snob, actually, and won't eat just any cake, but will go to great lengths for good cake.

4. 1960s furniture. I've scared more than one reseller by peppering questions about dovetail joints and manufacturing stamps. I stalked a set of chairs for months until I finally snagged a pair, and when Mad Men came on the air I was practically hopping up and down to show DJ that Roger Sterling and I had the same furniture.

5. Truffle salt. DJ and I bought a bottle of white truffle salt a while ago, and it is so good. On just about everything. We also recently bought a bottle of truffle oil, and DJ used it to make the best mashed potatoes I've ever had. (5 lbs of potatoes, one stick of butter, some milk, 1/2 c. shredded parmesan, a head of roasted garlic, and a tablespoon of truffle oil. To die for. Perhaps literally, when your arteries constrict.)

I've seen this one make the rounds lately, so I'm not going to tag anyone in particular. If you haven't had it yet and want to play, let me know so I can read your answers!

I went to a marvellous party

I had such a great time wrapping gifts this year. I'm way into the rustic barny thing at the moment, can you tell?

Now that they're wrapped and ready, it's nearly impossible for me not to hand off gifts as the recipients come through the door. DJ has the same problem - I think we've broken into the gifts early all three Christmases since we started re-dating. Including this one. Whoops.

The post title comes from this Noel Coward bit. Holidays and family get-togethers always remind me of it.

this time last year

This was our tree - yes, it's draped in pink ribbon. Why not?

And these were the gingerbread cookies I was baking, and THAT was my brand new engagement ring.

I like to tease him that December 15th is the day he gives me shiny diamond rings. But seriously, the year went by so fast. Next year we'll be married and getting ready for Bridesmaid Chloe's wedding.

firstname lastname

We all get to it at some point. The big question: do I change my name or not? Frequently there's another option: will he change his name or not?

When DJ and I were engaged last time, nearly a decade ago, I assumed that I would just change my name. But somewhere in those ten years I grew more attached to my name.

We briefly discussed changing his name, or changing both our last names, but quickly ruled that out. DJ is named for his father and grandfather, all sharing the same first and last names. He also comes from a close extended family, and that identity is important to him.

I'm not particularly attached to my actual name; it's nothing special, and I don't particularly identify with my family of origin. But I've had that name for going on three decades, and I'm uncomfortable with leaving half my name behind for a whole new one. At the same time, I'd like for DJ and I to share the same name, and I'm thrilled to be a part of his wonderful family. (Seriously. I often joke that I am marrying him for his family.)

So, what's left. Hyphenation. Hyphenation would give me a long and consonant-filled name, but it would be easy for me to remain Julia Remix professionally while having the option of Julia Remix-J or Julia J in my personal life.

Also, hyphenated names always make me think of Dynasty and Alexis Morell Carrington Colby Dexter Rowan. (Though I guess hers were not hyphenated so much as daisy-chained.) So until the novelty wears off my old-new name will make me giggle.

reminds me of the places we used to go

While DJ and I were in Las Vegas, I found a student photographer to take some pictures of us. We don't really have pictures of us - some from when we were first dating, and a few arm-out prizes that I snapped. I called it an engagement session to her, but not quite. As I told DJ, when we are old and mentally feeble, I will pull a Notebook on him and read stories about our youth. Except they will be completely fictionalized, however well supported by photos. It's becoming sort of a contest to see who can stave off senility the longest.

Anyway, on to the pictures.

I like this. I see this look on DJ's face all the time, and I like it. (Please note the J. Crew dress on the non-J. Crew model. Ahem.)

I can't decide if this is a more or less attractive view.

I convinced DJ and the photographer to do this by saying that it would look like us as old people. Except that it doesn't, it looks like us at home on a normal worknight. Minus the dress, plus a pair of yoga pants. Old people.

Me: I can see up your nose. DJ: No, you can't. Stop looking at my brain.

Then we changed clothes and found the tiniest grassy place ever. Vegas is not known for its natural beauty, you know. This one is going on my desk at work.This is how I am usually looking at DJ. A little bit of adoration, a little bit of disbelief, a lot of Leno Jaw.I have no idea why he likes me, but it does seem to be true.

Now, about the student photographer. I think she did a good job. I liked her a lot, and I think she has a lot of potential. BUT, if you're looking for a lot of direction or creativity, you should pay an experienced professional - or do some serious art direction of your own and take your chances. I knew that ahead of time, so I'm quite happy with what we have. On the other hand, if we'd been working with our wedding photographer, we might have communicated our ideas more easily and had many more pictures to choose from.

Our wedding photographer is a whole different and wonderful story. I'll have to tell it one of these days.