Thursday, August 28, 2008
But while most young women dream of their white dress and glorious diamond, the part of the wedding I often fantasize about is the wedding song.
Music has always been a form of time travel for me. (Much like the changing seasons bring me back to relationships lost and lusted after, but that's a post for another day).
I hear the album that I blared post-breakup and still cry.
I hear my sister's wedding song and remember exactly the way her face looked as she entered the reception hall.
And I listen to the album that marks the beginning of my current relationship with a smile on my face, and a tingle in my stomach that matches the one I felt the first time he kissed me. (Okay, okay, the second time he kissed me. The first was dulled with Jager and the crowded Halloween Party).
And so, while my friends plan their real-life weddings and stress about money and color patterns and save the dates, I can still enjoy the search for the perfect wedding song, without all the added stress.
Here are my top 4 Wedding Songs
1. Book of Love by The Magnetic Fields
It's ironically a love song and not a love song all at once, but his voice is haunting and I'm sure no one at the wedding will know or possibly like this song.
2. Crazy for you by New Found Glory (Originally Madonna).
It's fun, corny, and fast enough that people might actually enjoy dancing to it. I feel it is best done with an elaborate and ridiculous dance sequence between the bride and groom.
3. If I Were a Carpenter- Bobby Darin
My dad is a carpenter, and my mom married him anyway. They are still together and I might argue stronger than ever... This song means marriage to me.
4. Brand New Colony- Postal Service
I love Ben Gibbard's voice, but too many people use the Death Cab Song, "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," this is a nice change and sweet lyrics.
What was or will be your wedding song? And if you're single-forever, then what songs moved you at weddings you experienced?
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
But quiting the blogsphere can also leave you pregnant with regret (I miss you guys!)
Still, I had some fright awhile back when I was still blogging here, for The Odd Couple, that I still shudder thinking about. Something I wrote. Something I thought was harmless but made me realize, so much of what I had written wasn't. At least to people I cared about.
At that point, I wanted to delete everything I had ever written on the Web. I wanted my invisibility back. I suddenly hated MySpace, Blogspot and Google.
If I was a friend, a daughter and a girlfriend, the blog turned me into an invader, a spy, a bigmouth tattletale. The blog's disclaimers - "This blog is hazardous to the health of people suffering from HIDs or Humor Impairment Disorder" and "This POST isn't about you" - turned into a pitbull and latched onto my throat.
My identity IS VERY attached to this blog about twentysomething life. And consider that some of the blog audience wants juicy details. "You're like the real 'Sex and the City' girl," I heard more than once. But some of the blog audience is made up of my mom, my boss and my future in-laws. YIKES. I'm a reporter, earning respect by acting professional, while blogging about my after-hours. That's putting peanut butter and mustard in the same sandwich.
And so, I've snatched my life back from the Internet. Well sortof. I'm blogging, but in a way that can do no harm, as the moderator for the Journal's new wedding planning blog. You see, since sadly leaving the odd couple, this POJO princess got engaged! And, while I miss my blog partner Chrissie, I truly believe it's only a matter of time before she's blogging wedding stuff @ The Vow Factor.Before I go, I'd just like to say simply:
Thank you. Thank you for making The Odd Couple a success and please continue to follow Chrissie as she bravely tells you her relationship tales. I know I still do!
For example: When I was four-years-old my mother cut her hair from long golden tresses to a pixie Peter Pan cut. She emerged from the salon feeling like a new woman, and I cried. And cried. And cried.
I even went as far as to engrave "I hat you mommy" into the bottom of a Tupperware with my dulled number 2. She wasn't my "mommy" anymore with that haircut, she was some other version of mommy, same hugs, smell, and snuggle, but she looked different.
I eventually forgave her, but the terror I felt in that moment has followed me from time to time.
And while I've had the same haircut since kindergarten, every other change, big or small, good or bad, has sent me into a state of panic.
Most recently, after giving up my "independence" for a man, I left single-me behind. And in the coming months, I'll be leaving her apartment behind as well. No more clearance shampoo and empty fridge. No more phone calls from him to see what I'm up to. No more pop-ins from my neighbor-friend. No more girl-he-fell-in-love-with.
I assume she's still tucked into the corner of the couch, sipping pinot and fantasizing about the future. I like to visit her from time to time, reminiscing about the pain and passion I seem only to find in men who are bad for me. I tell her about all of my fears, but mainly about my fear of change.
The fear that the change in me might be a catalyst for the end to us.
Because if he fell in love with her... then what happens when she's gone?
Like mom with her new haircut, I'll still have the same smell, snuggle, and hugs, but my life will look entirely different.
And if the change is too much, I'm just hoping he'll be more subtle if he realizes the the girl he met is gone...
Because I can't imagine anything worse than reading a break up letter engraved in the bottom of a piece of Tupperware.
Monday, August 25, 2008
I've noticed that the longer I go without girl talk and happy hour, shopping trips or coffee with friends, the more I glorify my single-girl-solitude.
I begin to think that I miss that old life, that old me, so much that I might need go back to the way things were...
And so I make plans with friends and visit places I used to.
But instead of having a fabulous time, I struggle for conversation where it once flowed naturally.
I begin to awkwardly bob my head from left to right rather than accept the hello kisses from almost-strangers in the casual way I used to.
And immediately, I miss him.
But instead of becoming angry at myself for being "less fun" than I used to be, I consider all I've gained.
And I realize that losing who you were, might not be so bad... If you've become someone better.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
"What are you looking for now?" He asked.
"Oh, I'm just glancing at the shower curtains," came my reply.
"I'm not ready to get rid of mine just because you don't like it."
"Well then," I said. "If you can't part with a piece of plastic and a few hooks, then perhaps I'm not ready to get rid of my entire BATHROOM."
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
As in, I'd rather hang up on my closest friends than say goodbye after a brief telephone call.
I sometimes hope for the office to be entirely empty in the afternoons so no one will be there to wish me well.
I'd prefer a quick move for the door without the pleasantries.
Give me the end... but not the almost.
Because while saying hello is one of my favorite things...
Saying goodbye always leaves my ears ringing.
More of the beginning and less of the end.
Friday, August 8, 2008
So you can imagine my apprehension last night when I went to NYC to see my favorite English Indie band, Bloc Party with my boyfriend.
He bought the tickets. He drove. He searched for parking in the crazy streets, and I just kept my fingers crossed that the evening would be a success sans best-girl-friend.
And after a few hours of bouncing and ponging with the crowd. After throwing my arms up and holding my too-long damp hair on top of my head to cool off from the amazing show, I looked around and realized it was...
The. Best. Show. I'd. Ever. Been .To.
Maybe it was the band.
Or maybe... it was the fact I realized the best accessory for a good time at the rock show isn't necessarily a girl-best-friend.
It's a freedom you can only find when you realize you're completely comfortable in your surroundings, and the person you're with. Boyfriend, or not.
The inspiration for this Blog Party found here.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
AGE: My youngest self
SONG: "Cookie Monster's Song" from Sesame Street.
WHY: I. Loved. That. Show.
And while I consider old episodes to now be pretty high on the creepy scale, back in the day Burt and Ernie were "just friends," and the Cookie Monster was my hero.
(Okay, okay, the Cookie Monster still is my hero).
AGE: Pre-teen Chrissie Lynn
THE SONG: "I think we're alone now" by Tiffany.
WHY: Not because I actually knew what the words really meant... but because my best friend and I knew all the words and could sing just like Tiffany. The paradox was that while we listened to such a "grown up song" we of course were also playing with Barbie who obviously was holding her own concert, posed as Tiffany herself.
THE AGE: Teen-Tart Chrissie Lynn
THE SONG: "Self Esteem" by The Offspring
WHY: My first CD. I thought I was cool. This was the first of the 12 songs that I learned all the words to and would scream at the top of my lungs from my purple-painted bedroom while laying on my Unicorn bedspread.
THE AGE: College-Crisp Chrissie Lynn
THE SONG: "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" by Big and Rich
WHY: Because it brings memories to mind of my old roomie and I belting out the lyrics at the top of our lungs, changing up the funniest parts to fit our real-life. "So I saddle up my horse and ride into Mahoney's..."
THE AGE: Now
THE SONG: "Breakable" by Ingrid Michaelson.
WHY: Because it's the first time, in a long time that lyrics made me feel something for a brief moment while listening and a voice matched the beauty rather than took away from it.
What would be on the soundtrack to your life?
Monday, August 4, 2008
Hmm. That's funny, I thought. I'm wearing a little leather case over my engagement ring.
So I pulled off the tiny casing and stared at my ring in amazement.
Amazed that it was so tacky.
The rock itself was a cubic inch of sparkles.
And the setting, was just plain terrible.
Where most modern brides are wearing a princess cut with two baguettes to accentuate it, my dazzling stone was set in a silver, animal-shaped holder.
Hmmm I thought. That's kind of cute... it appeared to be a tiny elephant, complete with trunk and tail, but instead of a ivory treasure, mine held the most precious of love-stones.
But cuteness aside, it suddenly seemed like he didn't know me at all.
Sure, I like tiny animals, but as pets, not as jewelry.
And so I wrapped my ring in its leather case (the purpose of which was now perfectly clear) and went to figure out my next move.
Because the proof that we weren't entirely compatible was symbolized on my forever-finger.
And now my ring, wasn't the only elephant in the room.