43 days.....

Has it truly been almost a month since I last posted? Unbelievable. I'm terrible at this.

My mood is all over the place lately. I have the elation of getting married coupled with the misery and dread of having more bills than income. This is probably true for all marrying couples. The problem is, this is true for us even before wedding expenses come into play. I can feel my life shifting and aligning; but to what?

Oy, what have I gotten myself into? It seems these days I am filled with nothing but conflict (what's new?) Am I stupid for throwing my finances under the bus for this celebration? I so rarely seek attention that I have a hard time accepting than I deserve it. A short channel surfing session reminds me that even though I am finding my event to be opulent and overly spendy, it is still a mere fourth of the average wedding price tag.

But comparisons do not matter when other peoples' experiences do not change your situation. I am fully confident that we will be saving, spending, and repaying our many debts in time. For now it is simply painful. Planning the happiest day of your life on a shoestring can be taxing, especially with other brides calling your dream day names like "tacky" because your budget is not as impressive or grandiose as theirs. It is as if all meaning of the day has been lost in our culture. It saddens me, but my heart is lit back up by the appreciation that I am blessed enough to see what is truly important. Generally speaking centerpieces and linen quality do not fall into that category.

I have tried incredibly hard to keep the true spirit of my wedding day in mind. Myself, my groom, and the connection we share should be all that matters; so I invite only those who love us deeply enough to follow us into the mountains. This is where we go to be renewed in our love and in our own individual spirits. This is where we go to find peace. What better place to make eternal vows of love to each other? But then come the snags, which are many. A destination wedding should not be taken as lightly as I did when the process began, when I found I could marry in the park for an impressively reasonable $150. A million things can and do go wrong, and usually they stem from the very people you are trying to include in your special day.

The truth is, though, that my guests have all been incredible. I know there must be some raised eyebrows. I am forcing these loved ones to, after a long flight, drive four hours into wilderness to their hotel. I am then asking them to drive two hours each way between the ceremony and reception on the wedding day. I am asking them to shed their inhibitions and spend an afternoon in a state park to truly absorb what Abe and I hold dear. Perhaps worst of all, I am asking them to dance at an alcohol-free reception.

You would think with such inconveniences, I would have a torch-weilding mob on my hands; but no. Instead I am getting kind inquiries: What can I do to help? Is there anything you need me to do for you on the wedding day? What kind of gifts would you like? As if I need a gift, after they have trekked across the world for me!

Most appreciated is the sincere sentiment I am getting. I can't wait! This is going to be so much fun! I can't believe it's you in a wedding dress! This trip is going to kick ass, I get to make a vacation of it!
I feel I must repay their love with a night to remember. Only through them am I making this possible. Thank god I have artistic, creative, and amazingly smart friends! And ones with the generosity to share those talents with me. And of course there is the not-so-small matter of the generous financial contributions from our parents. They are a true blessing, since many many people are unlucky enough to not have parents at all; and many still have parents unwilling or unable to contribute.

OUR finances are the only source of my frustration, but as many can attest, they have a way of overshadowing all else. Debt clouds as black as night hover over me and cause me to lose sleep. Turbulent number-juggling warps in my brain, bending, never quite making sense. Oh, the joys of marrying in a recession! It will surely be a cautionary tale for my future children to ignore.

I began this entry feeling beaten, worn, and tired. I am leaving it feeling rejuvinated and hopeful. As I have learned personally, financial problems will come and go, and focusing on them is a bottomless pit of energy waste. Much like trying to predict the future. What a lesson to bring into a marriage!

71 days...The good, the bad, and the ugly.

So much has happened today!

First, I booked the caterer for the wedding, which was an enormous relief, since my wedding is a measly 2 1/2 months away.

Then, my mood was crushed like roadkill when my manager came to my cubicle and solemnly asked me what my career plans were. At first glance that could be a good thing or a bad thing; but then he kept going.
There's an HR job he said, one that I should give a try. Could this be when I finally get badged, and moved out of contractor status? The strange thing was, the job was for another company entirely. Then he proceeded: with all the changes that are coming, he can't guarantee anything outside of a year, unless I want to move to Arkansas, where my job will now certainly be going. This was NOT a relief, since my wedding is a measly 2 1/2 months away.

Now, I can't act too surprised by this. Our staff has dwindled from the moment i began this job three years ago; from seventy, to a measly ten or so. And all of those positions have moved to either Mexico or Arkansas. Last week, we sent off three more employees who left voluntarily; the writing is clearly written on the wall, in large Sharpie marker, and circled with neon paint. But still, just to hear it out loud - it got my heart pumping. The conversation went on; I should begin taking practice interviews to hone my skills. I should find out what makes me marketable and play on those strengths. I should work on my resume. Yikes. Is "a year" code for a few months? I almost expect that it is.

Not three hours later, my resume was up to date. I had applied to the job he recommended. And now, I suppose, I finally have something to take my mind off the wedding.

I don't know how many of my friends and family are reading this. I will be able to take care of myself. But our finances certainly do not need another blow. Between a wedding and being screwed out of CA unemployment when my hard-working Abe was let go months ago, the coffers are low.

To top it all off, Abe has enrolled in trade school to be a massage therapist. He begins in two weeks; it's a six-week class. We'll have another income in two months; he will receive his diploma just two weeks before the wedding.

I don't know that I've ever felt this much stress in my life!

I'm a little too drained to write much more, except to say: Wish me luck, universe.

Seventy-two days until the death of a McClain...

....and the (metaphorical) birth of a newly married woman.

Last night I put forth my fourth attempt at a delicious cheesy macaroni & broccoli casserole with toasted bread crumbs on top. Why didn't any of my math teachers tell me I need to pay attention for the sake of my cooking?
Seriously, do you know off the top of your head what 1 1/2 x 3/4 is? I sure as hell don't. How long does it take me to put up a tent? Five minutes. How much firewood for one night? Two bundles. How long until until we can pass out in the tent? As long as you'd like, thankyouverymuch.
But 1 1/2 of 3/4 of a cup of something? How do you convert a recipe for a 8x8 pan to fit your 9x11 pan? That's....let me think....35 square inches extra to fill. Right? Do you measure cheese packed into the measuring cup like brown sugar, or loose and fluffy? Can you substitute baking soda for baking powder? Salted or unsalted butter?

Now that is survival of the fittest. No wonder most of America relegates to the trusty drive-thru and has heart disease until they die tragically before their time. Because it's a pain in the ass! The first attempt: delicious. The second attempt: drowned in cheese sauce. The third attempt: perfect! Last night - crispy noodles on top, for lack of enough cheese sauce. Using the same recipe every time!
What's a math-deficient girl to do? Thankfully, this one has a calculator, Google search skills and a healthy dose of patience.

One of many redeeming qualities of cooking is that it takes my mind off the wedding. Am I awake? Yes? Then I'm thinking about the wedding. Oh, wait. I'm asleep? Must be having that weird dream again where i'm at the altar and forgot my vows. Or maybe it's the one where my in-laws dressed me in a suit of magical golden armor, sent me out into the forest, and informed me that if I survived their trial, I would be worthy of my groom. No? Maybe, then, the frighteningly joyous one where I am singing a lullaby to my newborn baby. WAIT! WHAT?! How did THAT one get in there? WHO AM I?!

Oh, it's coming, it surely is. But how can I comingle this lust for freedom with my lust for, well, settling down? Often I will see hitchiking youths my age and feel a tinge of jealousy for their wanderlust-driven lives. In the same day, I will see a heart-melting baby being soothed by a radiant and proud mother. Is the answer to go through nine months of suffering, only to drag my poor infant out on to a treacherous hike? I think not. But play dates? Daycare? Immunization schedules? Planned date nights? To my ears that screams repression louder than the word itself. I can only hope that marriage and motherhood, neither of which I have yet experienced, will come with unexpected joys that far surpass the crushing monotony of their consequences. My five-year relationship has had tinges of marriage. After all, we have lived together nearly the entire time and this has brought me vastly much more joy than pain. At the end of the day, I look forward to whatever may come, though I simultaneously fear it. The trick seems to be a tall order for an over-analyzing bride-to-be: to simply live in the moment.

For tonight? Home-made chicken noodle soup: chicken broth, seasoning, shredded chicken, sliced carrots and egg noodles. For dipping: a french loaf with homemade garlic butter toasted in the oven, and a little wine. Mmmm.

An introduction

This is me. Well, OK, it's not ME, but it certainly represents what I have somehow become. At what point did I go from being a rebel teenager terrorizing my parents to scrubbing my walls with a magic eraser? I'm not quite sure. But I can tell you this: It has a been a painful transformation. I yearn to climb mountains; to scale rocks and to traverse extreme terrain. My heart longs for adrenaline, excitement. In a word, adventure. Yet here I am, even as we speak, in a dingy pinkish-gray cubicle at an overly-powerful corporation, clicking and typing my way to lethargy and oblivion. My lust for adventure lingers ever on, and yet somehow I have sacrificed my means, my vacation time, and at many times my sanity (my husband-to-be can attest) for - what? Cooking a fabulous dinner that would make your grandmother proud. Cleaning the apartment so thoroughly that not a spot exists on the walls and no dust layers the crown molding. Attacking my (white!) couch with rubber gloves and upholstery cleaner. Incorporating myself into my family, which has now gained two sisters-in-law and two nephews. Certainly not not characteristic of me.
Dear readers, if you exist, I can tell you not when this happened. But I can absolutely, unequivocally tell you why.

I am marrying that why in exactly seventy-two days.

Most people would automatically detract this as a compromise of my ideals. But the more I have pondered upon this idea, the more I am able to reject it. For, you see, I am marrying a fellow adventurer. So although I am not climbing extreme rock faces or hacking through a fallen tree for survival firewood, I am on the greatest adventure of my life. A backpacking trip is made none the more exciting for solitude; in fact, loneliness can destroy the beauty of such a thing.
As for me, I have now acquired a taste for companionship during my travels. Two sets of eyes find twice as much intrigue.
And I have found that sometimes, when I am whirring about in my kitchen almost in perfect harmony with my meal's demands, or when I have ached all day from making my home a beautiful place, or I witness the miracle of life through my nephews, that good old adrenaline junky is back under a new disguise: domestic goddess.