Alexandra's Site

Sigh.  I just don't have the wedding gene.

Seriously, this is the day that I've heard little girls start planning at about 5 or 6 years of age.  I have made the concession to buy three bridal magazines.  And I have to say, when did wedding gowns get so darned slutty?

We've decided on a continent, and we are going to get married in Europe.

We think. 

See?  Having a very, very hard time with this!  We got the pricing from one hotel, and Markus is heavily involved, because it requires room negotiation.  Honestly, the guy isn't happy unless he's negotiating *something.*  We've had absolutely hysterical evenings trying to decide what kind of ceremony we want to have.  Not being religious at all, Markus thinks we should take something from every culture.  He thinks I should wear red like the Hindis, we should have some sort of Gregorian chant, and he definitely wants to stomp on a glass.  I try to tell him that this may be offensive to people who really are devout, but he just smiles that really charming sweet smile and says he wants all the spiritual bases covered when he marries me.

I counter with, "how about we get married at City Hall, like other non-religious people do?"  Then he changes the subject, and asks me if there was a new South Park on this week.

Sigh.  At this rate, we're never getting married.  He's so much better at this than me.

Markus: What kind of flowers do we want?

Me:  I dunno.  Something that smells nice.

Markus:  You'll probably have to be more specific.

Me: Okay.  Something that smells nice and flowery.

Markus:  You're a total smart ass.  It's a good thing that's something I love about you.

Me:  How about we hire a planner, and just show up on the right day?

Markus: The planner is going to ask you what kind of flowers you want.

Me: Smelly ones.

Markus: Come 'ere.

Then hugs and giggles ensue.  Honestly, I really want to marry this perfect guy.  I wish I could do so without a wedding. :)  And I wonder if there's a dress somewhere in creation that doesn't look like The Little Slutty Mermaid.

Talk to you soon! 

I have discovered that my whole life revolves around the weekends.

Really, now... there's something both empowering and debilitating when you realize that you're just marking time 5/7ths of your life.  Boy, I dislike my job.  I have the kind of job that is the kind of mind-numbing jumping-off point in the movies, where the protagonist has a nervous breakdown, or sends a bowling ball through her computer monitor, or decides she hates the rat race and goes for a retreat on a dude ranch and finds herself after a couple of weeks of roping cows.

But, the weekends.  The weekends I feel like ME.  It's 7 in the morning, and the reflection of the sunrise has turned all the highrises out my windows a mind-blowing rosy peach.  I have no work to do - I'm drinking coffee, typing in front of the windows, and I'm going to check out my sister's blog, to find out how she's doing on the snail farm in Macedonia. 

Honestly, I'm not making that up.   My siblings and I all have very interesting lives.

Today, I'm going to run some errands in Union Square.  I need bookends, because I buy books incessantly, and they are falling all over each other.  So, I'll jump on the Subway, which is a little harder to navigate on the weekends.  There's always some sort of construction going on, and it's always a crapshoot as to whether your train will *really* take you where you think it's going to.  But I need some bookends, so it's time to venture forth out of my little neighborhood, (which is changing daily... have I mentioned there's now a Tiffany's on Wall Street????  Crazy talk.  This is a type A neighborhood where people bark into their cell phones while drinking a cup of lousy street vendor coffee while simultaneously chain smoking two cigarettes, because they don't have time to smoke them one at a time.  The idea of people in this neighborhood browsing at Tiffany's is just weird.) 

So Union Square for bookends.  Okay, not just bookends... there's this CHOCOLATE place there.  A restaurant of chocolate.  Chocolate fondue, chocolate cake, hot chocolate, chocolate waffles, chocolate salad... okay, I'm joking about the salad.

Pity.

-Alexandra