breaking in the house

We've survived a couple of firsts recently:


1) Our 1st House Guest: His Mom came to visit for a long weekend. We had a blast -- although we learned a very important lesson about the movies in the cemetary: If the line is off the lawn, you won't make it in before dark/ in time to enjoy your picnic before the movie starts. And if it's wrapped around the corner onto Gower, abandon ship. (Side note: the movie that night was "Airplane!" ... wtf, people? Freakin' "Airplane!" brought out the hordes?)

We did some other cool stuff, too -- she even came & took one of my classes. (And loved it -- phew!) And we now have an air mattress that fits quite nicely in the office/ 2nd bedroom, so we're primed & ready to accommodate future comers.

2) Our 1st Dinner Party: Our friends L. (who was Best Man in the wedding) and his girlfriend S. came to hang for the evening. I managed to cook up a meal that didn't a) set off the smoke alarm, or b) kill anybody, so I'm calling the evening a success! Also, I finally managed not to come in last in the game of Scrabble we played after dinner -- the Mr. has a really annoying habit of always kicking my ass. But with non-family members involved, I came in 2nd! (Note to self ... write that down.) I suspect that the bottle of Glenlivet we were slowly killing while we played had something to do with leveling the field, but who cares? Victory-adjacent is mine!

Also: it appears that I do, in fact, still have some things to say about the house. So perhaps I'll keep this blog on topic for those purposes, and start a 2nd one for my cranky ramblings. Because I am pretty cranky. It just got a little out of hand yesterday ... probably on account of that whole mouth-full-of-blood thing.

wedding recap: the ceremony

We got crazy-lucky with the venue for our ceremony. There's normally a two year waiting list for the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco, but it's been undergoing a multi-phase earthquake retrofitting for several years. (The history of the POFA is a fascinating mix of art & happenstance -- it was never meant to be a permanent structure, but citizen's groups & philanthropists have banded together to save it several times. Those efforts continue to this day.) The previous phase finished early, which meant that it was available from mid-May through mid-August. Construction began again on Monday, so there won't be any more weddings there until at least late 2010. Like I said ... crazy-lucky!

This was the set-up for our intimate 30-person ceremony:

I was walked down the aisle by both by mom & dad.
I don't recall what I said at that moment, but it must've been funny.

The paper pomanders took forever to make, but really looked pretty.

Our officiant was a friend who's wedding we went to last year -- she's getting her master's degree in theology, and was thrilled that we asked her to marry us. Having someone who really knows us was wonderful.
Thank goodness she asked us to take each other's hands -- I was so emotional that I needed to hang onto him.

Part of our ceremony included honoring our parents.

Two of our friends gave readings.
This is our friend T reading Sonnet 119 by William Shakespeare. The groomsman on the far right, R, read "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss. The fact that they came to us independently with those passages shows just how well our friends know us!

I've heard lots of people talk about how, after all the craziness of planning, the actual day just flies by ... but I felt incredibly present for the entire thing. The hugeness of the step we were taking, the love that we were expressing for each other, the people who were present to share the moment & support us -- it was almost overwhelming, but I didn't miss a thing.

We said our vows, exchanged rings ... and then we were married.

all pics except 2nd from bottom by Marija Thomas Photography

2nd from bottom by His Mom

To change, or not to change (my name)?

The Mr. & I got our marriage license two weeks ago, and while we were filling out the paperwork I was confronted with spaces for me to put "Current Name" and "Married Name". While I'd always thought I knew what I wanted here, I was suddenly gripped by a flood of "You mean I have to decide this now?!" Nothing like a little legally-binding document to make me question myself.

I admit that I probably have a more complicated relationship with this subject than most. First, my point against: I'm not changing it for professional purposes. I've worked for years to carve out the beginning of a niche in my industry -- no way am I going back to "who?"

Second, my points for: I hated my last name when I was a kid. It can be rhymed with far too many embarrassing things, and even occassionally employed as a verb. I was aching to be rid of it since age 6. (Yes this is probably the silliest of my reasons. But at the time it seemed terribly important.)

More significantly: I am the product of a divorce. Growing up, I was the only person in my house with my last name, and I can't imagine why I'd continue that voluntarily.

My fiance's family thinks I'm adorably retro on the subject -- both his mom & sister kept their maiden names. But the phrase "maiden name" has always stuck uncomfortably in my throat. Am I waiting for Robin Hood to come rescue me from a dragon? Talk about retro.

All of these thoughts swirled around my brain in roughly 3.5 seconds as I paused while filling out that government form. And then it hit me: I could have it both ways. I added my family name to the "Middle Name" box, and put his as the "Last Name." So I have two middle names now (or I will in 12 days).

The truth is, for all my over-thinking the subject, I've grown rather attached to my name. It's followed me around the world, and it reminds me of so many people I love who aren't here any more.

Besides, if it's good enough for Charlotte York MacDougal Goldenblatt ....

the best part about Oregon

Every time the Mr. & I go to Oregon, we get to visit The Kitty People. No, that's not their actual name, but a) I'm doing my best to protect anonymity here on the interwebs, and b) that's what I call them. Not because they have an uncannny sense of balance & can see in the dark -- at least, not to the best of my knowledge. Those topics have actually never come up in conversation. I call them that because they have 7 cats. And 2 dogs.

The night before our most recent trip to Oregon, my back did something peculiar. I coughed while wearing too-high heels and it spasmed. (Are those details germane to the injury? I don't know. But that's what stood out in my mind as it occurred.) So I was very concerned. Partially with being in massive amounts of pain for the duration of the getting-there, partially with being a giant-ass drag on the planned 4th of July festivities. But mostly because, as I said to Mr. UB, "I can't bend down ... you're going to have to hand me kitties!"

When we got to His Parents' house, I retreated to bed old-lady style: with heating pad and Tiger Balm. Fortunately* this proved to be just what I needed, as my back snapped back into its intended alignment with a quiet pop that left me gasping for air & crying. But hey -- at least I was, once again, ambulatory.

So while everyone else was enjoying barbecued salmon & local microbrews, I was on a mission: Drag Mr. UB away from his dinner every time I located another family member with four feet & fur.
This is Dit -- who always lets me slurp him up first.

Houston -- guess where they found him?

Mo -- you can't tell in this photo, but he's actually part whale. Mo = a lot of cat.

Mo's best friend, Prissy -- the only cat in the world larger than Mo.

Princess knows she's beautiful.

Molly likes to hide under the dining room table. But I find her.

Seemore had to be retrieved from his hiding place in the garage ... amateur.

No, I don't think this is a cat. This is Simon, the dog who may as well be a cat -- he's kind of high strung. As in he hates it when people leave. He used to snarl & bark while blocking the door as soon as the good-bye hugs began. This time he bolted outside when the front door opened, then shook so hard I thought he was going to shatter while his mom held him. I think he's awesome.

I need to get the photo of Barry, aka Doggie #2, from Mr. UB. He's a great big slobbery St. Bernard. (Barry. Not Mr. UB.) I only patted him on the head, and somehow still came away covered in slime. Unfortunately, the bachelor party started 45 minutes ago, so I won't have access to it, or the Mr., until sometime after 5 p.m. tomorrow.**

*Kinda. And lest you think I'm some sort of huge weenie (especially if you knew me when I was a whiny kid) I'm pretty stoic. But that shit hurt.
** Of course the fact that his bachelor party is today has nothing to do with why I'm posting pictures of cats on the internet. I'm above needing such distraction. How dare you!

back from a happy 4th of July

I hope everyone out there had a wonderful 4th of July. Nothing commemorates our forefathers telling the British to eff off 233 years ago like blowing stuff up, does it?

Mr. UB & I celebrated by making a whirlwind trip up to Oregon to visit His Parents. (I was just excited to see that they do not, in fact, live above the Arctic Circle -- it was actually warmer there than in L.A.)

So, what exactly does one do on the 4th in rural Oregon? Why, go to the St. Paul Rodeo & Parade, of course!
His Dad had entered his pride & joy, a 1934 Ford that he's been restoring for the past 8 years, in the parade. And let me tell you, if it wasn't quite clear that Toto & I were no longer in L.A. before the parade started, it sure as heck was once things got underway. To wit:

Rodeo queens!
Vintage fire trucks!

Vintage ... other vehicles!

Other oddities: a non-marching band
As someone who used to wear the full St. Pepper-esque wool uniform, complete with heavy uncomfortable hat, to competitions in Barstow in freaking August, I have very little respect for people in casual clothes who ride the parade route. But they did sound pretty good.

That's more like it. This drum corps brought it.

Little girls riding wooden horses on a flatbed truck? Why not? Take that, Imperial Britain!

Give us Liberty or give us a gigantic inflatable creepy pumpkin head! On second thought, we'll take both!

Here come the Mr. & His Dad. Work that crowd, Actor Boy!

More vintage cars with extra-cool passengers:
I think this is a Chevrolet. But I'm positive that those Australian Shepards in the hipster 80's shades are called Lollipop & Lulu.

No idea what year/make this car is, but the tiny lap passenger is a rescue dog called Eeyore. (Are my priorities showing?) The only hair on his body is whiskers & a faux-hawk. He also has a spiked collar -- 'cuz he's a total badass, and that's how he rolls.

Me and His Parents. One of these hats is being worn ironically -- can you guess which one?

Other things spotted after my camera battery died: a guy riding his horse on top of a semi doing some fancy lasso action, the world's tiniest buggy being driven by a woman dressed like a pilgrim (and pulled by a pony, natch), and a tractor hauling the biggest spool of hose I've ever seen (I think they were one of the event sponsors?) We had a blast.

when procrastination equals planning

I bought the latest issue of Martha Stewart Weddings three days ago, and I haven't read it yet. Not because I'm testing myself, in some sort of weird willpower-that-no one-will-ever-see exercise, but just because I haven't bothered yet. I view this as tremendous progress in re-claiming my sanity.

In other, "real" progress this week, Mr. UB's father, aka His Dad, has come through with a major favor: the Mark Hopkins Hotel, where he always stays when he's in the city for business, is giving our wedding party & guests rooms at $75/night.

credit

It's an incredibly nice hotel, with a bar on the top floor (in a building at the top of a hill) that has views to die for. And in a city that's not exactly famous for its hotel bargains ... as much as I try to keep her in check, my inner snob is very happy. On our budget, I was afraid we'd be at a Motel 6.

I'm amazed at how many things are coming together for this wedding. Maybe I should take another week off from planning, and see if a free-roaming caterer rings my doorbell.

whirlwind venue search breakdown

We saw a ton of places in S.F. on Tuesday, in our attempt to see if there's another venue we love that fits our budget. First stop: Golden Gate Park, which Mr. UB's sister & her husband were kind enough to live near. (Thanks, guys!) Candidate #1: The Shakespeare Garden:
Okay, that's pretty darn sweet. It even has an aisle. The sundial's a little inconveniently placed, but hopeful my Dad would be able to prevent my walking directly into it. (I'm a rare level of clumsy.) Here's the reverse view of the arbor:

(He's so cute.)

The rest of the space looks like this:
It's not very big, but neither is our wedding. And I have a deep affinity for all things Bard. Still, in the late summer/fall, those trees will no longer be blossoming. (I asked. They said no. The nerve.) So it's a "Strong Maybe," but there's lots left to see.

Candidate 2: The Chinese Pavillion:
It's in the middle of a big lake in the park, and it looks really pretty, nestled among all that greenery. Close-up, it's very colorful:

It even has a cute little bridge that we could make into a pseudo-aisle:
But there's a stone (read: immovable) table surrounded by stone stools dead-center in the middle of it. And it has a rail inside that would make seats very hard to arrange, even in the round. Plus, I think Mr. UB put it best: "It makes a very strong cultural statement, which is neither of our cultures." Fair enough. No-go.

There was actually another place next to the Pavillion that we both really liked, but it's way too much work:
Us & our officiant up there on the bridge?

Our guests on chairs down there? Vice-versa? I know, I know ... totally impractical. But maybe some other non-satin shoe wearing bride can make it work. Moving on.

Candidate #4: The Fuschia Garden:
I hope it's more spectacular when things are blooming, because at the moment it looks like a nice little corner, but that's it. We both want something a little more ... special for our wedding. I'm sure that lady on the bench was wondering why the hell I took her picture, though.

Not-really-a-Candidate: The Conservatory of Flowers:
It's not on our list because it's too expensive. But we walked right past it & I liked the building so I took a picture. Another reason why it's out of the question: it's basically a giant hothouse. My hair would frizz.

Lest we lose our minds, a brief time-out: Random stuff in the park that made me happy:
I don't know what kind of flowers these are, but the sun was illuminating them beautifully. I felt like I was pretending to be Peonies. And speaking of Scottish people:

A free-roaming bagpiper, fully kilted-out. I love the sound of the bagpipes, but when they're played badly it sounds like cats being walked on. This guy rocked.

A cellist on the run.

The architecture junkie in me loves the deYoung Museum. You can go to the viewing platform on the top floor for free. (Hooray, free!)

You can see the whole city from up there. This is the street His Sister lives on.

The Golden Gate, peeking over a hill.

Okay -- enough screwing around. We're on a freakin' mission here, people. Back to work!

Candidate #5: The Music Concourse:
His Mom suggested it, and it is pretty. But it's exposed to one of the busiest areas of the park (between 2 museums). Oh, and it's being earthquake retrofitted, too, just like our original venue. We're not doing that again.

Leaving GGP ... Candidate #6: Levi Strauss Park:
Another place suggested by His Mom. (And by the way, our people have been amazing at rallying to help us solve this.) It's a tiny little park down by the Embarcadero. And again, it's very pretty, but the only area where you could possibly have a ceremony is tiny:

(Stoopid people walking into my frame.)

It's also privately owned, which might complicate renting it. Oh, and the only parking around it is meters, which cost 10¢ for every 2.5 minutes!!! What. The. Fuck? Never mind.

And finally ... because I made him go take a look ... Candidate The Winner: The Palace of Fine Arts:
I mean seriously, people. Look at that. And it costs the same as the other places we looked at -- $650 for three hours. It's available from May 15 until August 15. August 15th could happen.

I've obviously been thinking a lot about this whole location drama, and wondering if the urge to dig in my heels is perhaps the slightest bit 'Zilla-ish. Lucky for me, my friend Tolley called:

Her: I don't know if anyone's had this conversation with you, so if I'm over-stepping my bounds, let me know.

Me: Okay?

Her: I read about your date/location dilemma in your blog, and you're being very practical.

Me: I'm trying!

Her: I just wanted to point out that it seems like having your wedding at the Palace of Fine Arts has become your dream. Maybe it didn't exist before you acquired the ring, but it exists now.

Me: Kind of, yeah. I'd agree with that.

Her: Then will you please stop being so damn practical, and be a fucking bride for a moment? If you want that to happen and the date has to change, the people who love you will be there.

Me: Thank god you called ...

I have good friends.

This post has gotten very long, but I'm going to write more soon about this part. The "It's not the absolute cheapest way to make it happen, but it fits our budget and we love it" part. Consider yourselves warned.