So Absolutely Charming

I have an unfortunate disease, one that makes it incredibly difficult for me to not only communicate with my fellow humans, but also continue through daily life without issue.  This disease?  The inability to say anything so that it doesn’t sound like a direct insult or to let the truth slip in such a blunt, unadulterated way that it is followed by mortified silence.  It’s hard to explain, but suffice it to say, while my fiancé has issues saying the absolutely wrong thing at the wrong time and a complete inability to ever phrase or tone things the proper way… I have my own problems.  Take, for instance, the other night, where I managed to make two grevious errors.  We were in the midst of casual conversation when these two incidents occured, not more than five minutes between them.

He speaks of losing weight and not eating much lately.  My reply?  An incredulous and completely harsh, “WHERE?” He looked horrified before making all sorts of melodramatic treaties as I tried and coax him to look at me and stumble over apologies.  Some of the things he said were so funny, I couldn’t help but laugh.  We both ended up laughing ourselves into tears.

Then, we’re talking about something else, and he makes a vague mention of always trying to ‘be perfect for me’… which not only sounds ridiculous, was ridiculous when he said it.  I looked at him, snorted derisively, and said without a thought, “well, you’re doing a shitty ass job of it!” Silence followed.  I realized how that sounded and am suddenly apologetic, again.  He’s too caught off-guard by my insult to say anything witty.

Why, yes, folks, I am still engaged.  A miracle, isn’t it?  Especially after how, when it was all said and done and he said that it was okay, I was only joking, I didn’t mean any of it, I paused.  WHAT? I always speak the truth!  There were little scraps of truth in there!  The truth will not be denied!

And this is why you never, ever ask me for my honest opinion.  I will crush your soul.  Sigh.

In the meantime, I am looking at wedding things.  Totally considering saying “no” to veils.  Two-hundred and more dollars for bits of lace that barely go past my shoulders?  NO THANKS!  Also, wedding shoes?  ARE HORRIBLY UGLY!  Auuugh! I also need to find out what the hell the groom wears to a beach wedding… a full tux seems… well, bizarre.  And stifling.

The Cat Abides

The parents are still apart, so I’m pretty sure dad will be looking for an apartment in the near future.  Which means I won’t get to visit and I have to call and upset my grandparents.  It’s not that I actually can’t, but don’t want to.  I don’t want caught up in the middle.  I want to see my dad and grandparents, but there’s so much conflict that can be avoided by not at this particular point in time.  Fortunately for me, I bought my grandpa a birthday card in advance and have already mailed it!  His birthday is the 14th.

Still haven’t heard back from the State Police.  They are so slow.  Fiancé says that they told him it could be between now and the middle of March.  Argh!  I really hope it doesn’t take that long.  In other news, I still haven’t done anymore wedding stuff/planning/etc.  I really need to get my dress altered…

You would get a more coherent entry, but I’m exhausted.  I shooed my fiancé off to work so I could do some ‘questionable’ writing for a Prologue piece.  Now I’m exhausted and bored.  I just can’t write with him around, it sucks, but I can’t.  So, instead of a coherent, moping entry… you get Spooky in the box my Valentine’s Day chocolates came in.  Mmm… Holl’s Swiss Chocolates…

Two Sides to Every Story

There’s nothing quite like hearing the monotone, electronic voice of, ‘We’re sorry, but the number you’re trying to reach has been disconnected’ to send a cold, prickly fear through you when you try to phone your house, the number you’ve had for what seems like your entire life.  Especially when you know what’s been going on and when you fear the absolute worst.  It’s also incredibly jarring when you’ve just finished talking to your grandparents who were cheerful and otherwise placated.  Surely they would react were something amiss?  No, they wouldn’t.  They live in the land of denial.

So, I called my dad’s cell phone (as the ‘kindly’ electronic voice advised) and found out that he had disconnected the land line due to my mother running up the cell bill.  She was using 600 minutes, whereas dad and I were using, at the most, around 50.  Needless to say, my DSL is gone.  That’s fine, my grandparents have DSL, too.  I can rationalize that.  We spoke for awhile and I could tell that the end was near.  Dad calls it his ‘exodus’.  That’s a weighty word, one that is used to title an entire ‘book’ of the Bible.  Escaping a hostile environment, indeed.  Nevertheless, there are two sides to every story and while my mother is quite the insane drunk, she wasn’t always that way.  Way back, in a time I can hardly recall, she was my mother–caring, impulsive, and sometimes a little too involved, but she loved me.  I try not to take sides with my parents, even though its been dad and I against her for the better part of a decade now.  How else were we to survive the violent nature of her alcoholic rage?

After speaking with my dad and telling him about Key West, he said he’d come.  I was relieved.  I wanted to talk to him more, to hear his voice… there’s comfort there.  Comfort from when I was small and needed the voice of a parent.  There’s a part of me, deep down inside, that needs that comfort now and again.  We hung up and a few minutes later, my mum’s cell phone comes up on the caller ID.  I answer, hesitant.  She has a job again, but dad said she’s been drinking.

Instead of the slurred, drunken voice I’ve become accustomed to, I heard the soft lilt of a mother on the other line.  Dad told me she had managed to be sober a whole week before falling off the wagon.  I was stunned, to be honest.  I haven’t heard this voice in about two years.  The last time I heard it, it was a deception, a cruel, horrible trick.  General concern followed, upon hearing my own, hoarse verbiage.  I have a cold, I’m okay, no, I don’t need to see a doctor.  She finds out I spoke to dad and, for a moment, is terse, but quickly resumes that gentle familiarity, like a mother talking to a young child.  I’m not a little girl anymore, but there is comfort there, a comfort I haven’t found in many, many years.  Soured, though, by my own notions, the truths I am privy to.

She agrees to Key West, too, but mother has never been one for commitments.  Even before being drunk, I remember her fickle nature often had her late or forgetting completely.  I take it with a grain of salt, happy that she’s not yelling at me for getting married there.  We speak lightly and it comes time for it all to end.  Before I can say anything, she begins.

‘Big changes are coming, baby.  I just want you to be ready for them, okay?  I love you.’

I was never very fond of change.

Laying Blame

I hate that I don’t use this nearly as much as I want to.  It’s mostly due to the fact that my fiancé is almost always around and so it is pretty impossible to try and type up something coherent.  I love him to death, but I need a place to vent when he’s pissing me off and a part of myself that’s still private (even though, ashamedly, most parts are).  I guess I could also blame the fact that I don’t really know what to write about.  I’m not trying to be profound or witty, I’m just trying to catalogue these hectic years so I can look back and go, “wow.”

In unrelated news, I’ve just spent $60 at Aerie for workout stuff.  I did check Old Navy first, but I can’t stand working out in full pants.  I like the stretchy-capri things.  I’ve spent a bit too much this month and it’s hardly over.  We won’t even go into it.  Anyway, the point is, my fiancé is in dire need of exercise.  I love him beyond a physical level, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand by while he acquires a little pudge.  I warned him before we began dating, if you want me to continue looking nice then put a little effort into yourself, too.  He used to be lean, healthy muscle and very attractive physically–like a runner or a swimmer.  Now?  Well, he doesn’t exercise at all, except all the walking at work.  His legs are still the same.

He whines when I tell him to work out.  No time, he doesn’t want to do it alone, excuses, excuses.  So, I told him, fine, nevermind the fact I have a severe problem with cardio workouts.  I will do it with you because honestly, I can’t take it anymore.  I’m not perfectly fit, either, but I’ve got a rack and an ass.  Both of which he is extremely fond of.  What am I extremely fond of?  Abs.  Where are they?!  I’m more into pilates and low-intensity work outs, but I can perhaps manage a bit on the elliptical before I feel the need to pass out.  I’m going to work out a regime and make him stick to it.

I also need to get my nose to the grindstone involving wedding stuff.  We’ve got both condos scheduled so we can supplant ourselves and my dad (possibly drunkard mum, too, sigh).  Now I need to look into venues, get shoes, secure wedding bands, etc.  Exhausting.  I wish my fiancé wasn’t so retarded that he had to take babysteps into everything.  I’m sick of being the one who steps up.  I’m too dysfunctional.

Birthday Yayness & Wedding Stuff

So, I’m officially going to be twenty-three at 8:20 tonight. It’s kind of weird to think about, my fiancé was this age when we started dating. Kind of weird. I’m one of those people who is always backtracking and thinking about what I was doing a week ago, a year ago, what have you. I wonder if anyone else does that? Probably.

The second job didn’t work out. It required one of those stupid personality tests–the kind you can’t think about and ask you questions like, “I used to be late to work, but now I’m not” and ask you to either agree or disagree. What if you’re never late for work?! Argh. A lot of other people failed it, only one passed. The lady we know was upset about it, she couldn’t hire any of the people she wanted. I will cry over my loss of a discount, but maybe it is for the best. If I had taken the job, well, that would mean no Christmas with my family. That would not go over well, especially since my grandma is already guilt-tripping me for not calling enough. Sigh.

On the other hand, there may be an IT job I could possibly try for. My mother-in-law knows some people in her organization that also work for a health center. They’ve never had an IT person and are still working out the kinks in the position requirements, etc. I’ve done that job to an exact T and have about half a year’s experience in it. So, if it does come to pass, we’ll see. If I do get it, it would work out REALLY well for us, even after/if he gets the forensics job. We’re still waiting to hear from the state police, but I refuse to be negative. Especially with what they’ve said thus far…

I’ve also started the daunting task of trying to decide where we want to get married. I still haven’t even tried on my dress–I’m too afraid to take it out of the plastic. I tend to ruin everything I touch, heh. So far, I think getting married in Key West would be really cool. Especially because this year, my in-laws have two consecutive weeks to spend down there and my parents are hopefully coming, too. The place I am really looking into is the Beachside Resort and Conference center.

It has a few different places you can get married at and also offers a small, intimate wedding ‘package’. My dress is very beachy and kind of informal, so it would definitely work out. We don’t need to worry about reception stuff or photographs… mostly because my in-laws own two condos down there and both my father-in-law and my own grandpa are pretty hefty into photography. I doubt my grandparents can make it, but I didn’t think they would be able to, no matter where we got married.

I’ve already started acquiring jewelry. I have these really awesome diamond earrings–they look 100% real and are just a strand of about eight or so that hang down. I got them for seven dollars, haha, at a jewelry expo that was in the conference center with the Relay U. The whole ACS Relay University thing isn’t my bag, but it was so awesome to meet the man that’s responsible for my fiancé surviving even after they gave him two days to live. He had leukemia when he was three. The man he introduced has dedicated his entire professional life to curing leukemia. It was really great to meet him.

Also, I just have to mention it, because I’m such a backwater poor person, but at the jewelry expo, they had these really expensive necklaces and earrings. I didn’t realize that my original choice for wedding earrings was expensive, I thought they just looked real but were cheap. I had them in my ears when the woman said, “they usually go for 8,000″ and nearly died. I’ll probably never wear something so expensive again in my life! I thought my fiancé was going to collapse. His face literally turned PALE. He’s very financially conscious.

This entry is turning out to be huge, but I just have to share one more thing. I think I’ve found what I want for Christmas! Unfortunately, it’s $800… I had no idea when I saw it in the case at Zales… but its so pretty. Even the fiancé liked it, but he didn’t know the price. I looked it up online.

I should have let him sneak into Zales and ask. The manager we know–the one who wanted to hire me–would’ve guilt tripped him into getting it for me. Why? Because my lovely fiancé ruined my chances at a matching wedding set by not realizing when my wedding band went down to $200, he should’ve bought it. Sigh. We give him crap about it constantly, because I literally cannot find a single thing that matches nor can be sized down to fit my size 4 fingers.

I doubt he’ll get it for me knowing the price, but I really like it. Makes me re-think buying him a $500+ Seiko watch for our first Christmas together… cheap bugger. He probably won’t even offer to take me out for dinner tonight. My father-in-law asked if he would and when I said “probably not” he got mad and said he was going to kick his butt.