To plan and to hold…

When I was growing up my mom always told me that I could be and do anything.

I believed it then like I believe it now except that there seems to have been an exception that she omitted- though in her defense, it was unforeseeable that I would one day have to commit to this kind of project.

It seems as though I am physically and psychologically unable to plan a wedding.

Contrary to popular belief, I have only been to 3 weddings in my life: My brother’s, my sister’s, and my friend Gabby’s.  I have been invited to a gazillion of them, and have a box full of invitations to prove it, but despite my best intentions I never quite made it to any of them so I know very little about what makes a successful wedding.

To be completely honest, I have always hated weddings.  I have found myself getting frustrated and angry at the mere proposition that someone would choose to make so many big promises knowing that forever is a REALLY long time.  The idea that someone would willingly give up being a whole person to become part of a unit really was offensive to me.

Not to mention the logistical nightmare that is to plan a wedding. Spending months looking for ways to spend obscene amounts of money just so there will be a bunch of drunk, over-stuffed people in pretty pictures, seemed absolutely ridiculous to me.

And now, here I am.

Because the more I resist something, the more inclined life feels to make me eat my words.  I guess this is why people say “never say never” and it is a lesson that has taken me a while to learn.

But I did it. I managed to fall in love with someone so deeply that when he did ask if I wanted to get married, it was easy to say yes (albeit I was under the influence).  We also managed to pick a date that is now 50 days away, and decided we would celebrate our union with far less people than we would like but more than we know how to handle.  I even began to worry about what to feed the people who will be in the pretty pictures…

In the process, I even let myself feel happy about everything and it felt like something I had never experienced.  At first it felt alien, but then it engulfed me in such a way that I felt as though I nearly cheated myself out of something amazing by simply not wanting it. This is a unit where I feel we belong and doesn’t come to odds with either of us being a whole person.

…and surprisingly enough, even though I thought that making certain decisions and allowing myself to enjoy them would be “the hard part” of this whole marrying business, it turns out that it wasn’t. The “hard part” is all in the details.  Because a wedding is like a Monet: from afar it looks like something but it takes a gazillion little strokes, each representing a specific decision, to get the thing to work.  And it isn’t just about the logistics, but about the emotional toll it takes on everyone involved.

Sometimes I feel like I can’t do it.

My life has become a mess of spreadsheets and endless glasses of diet coke because, as if I didn’t have enough on my plate (no pun intended), I also have to worry about my weight. Long gone are the days when I could unwind with a glass of wine or make myself feel better about life by eating a piece of chocolate.  Now I eat too little and smoke too much.

(Needless to say, I’d be one cranky bitch if it weren’t for twice a day snuggles)

Still, things are coming along  and every time I see a result whether it is losing a pound or giving a final approval, it gets a little easier to carry on with the rest. I worry a lot about everything being perfect, but even if it isn’t, at least for Hugh and I, it will be amazing.

On April 6 we will make a vow in front of God, our families, and each other that we will be together forever.  That will be the celebration of a marriage.  Our marriage.  And he asked me to have a marriage not a wedding.  Regardless of how the wedding turns out, it will only be successful if we have a successful marriage.

I will obviously continue to try to have a perfect wedding, but the fact is that I look forward to making the assessment on my death bed.

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Happy Valentine’s Day!

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Happy Monthaversary! – 22 months of love :D

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Annush in the desert…

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The first time I came to Texas will be a year ago this March.

Back then, I was shocked and amazed by how cold it was.  It never occurred to me that the temperature could drop so drastically in the Texan desert, and it didn’t help that Hugh didn’t prepare me for what to expect.  I got here with nothing but a light sweater to face 40 degree weather for a week.

This time around I was better prepared.740749_10152405418370061_1012515588_o

Actually, I was obsessive about my packing to the point that I am a vision in knits. Still, it never occurred to me that the temperature could (and would) drop to 20 degrees and that it would indeed snow; so here I am, facing below freezing temperatures without boots or a pair of gloves.

I think God likes to laugh at me and my “planning”.

Anyway…

For the next six weeks, I am trading my beloved causeway in Miami Beach for the Texan desert.  During this time,  I intend to do some long distance wedding planning and hopefully complete a project I have put off long enough: my book.

This year there will be a lot of big changes in my life (there have been many big changes already) so it seems fitting that I tie all the loose ends and finish all the projects that at one point were important enough to start, and begin dreaming new dreams.

I really am very optimistic about 2013 and the future in general…

I hope you are too.

Happy new year.

xoxo

annush

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He’s grown accustomed to my face…

Sometimes life leaves you speechless and then in order to speak, you need to find the exact words to capture the scope of what it is that has happened to you.

I love telling stories. Telling stories is one of the things that I like to think that I do quite well and it is something I do quite often.  But it is one thing to tell a story and something completely different to explain the meaning or the feeling behind what transpired.

On September 29th, Hugh asked me to marry him and I haven’t written a blog post since.

As you can expect, I said yes and I have been a happy engaged woman since.  Surprisingly, the role of future Mrs. MacLeod has been one I’ve stepped into with no problem and I’m as happy as can be. But to tell the story of us, and what it means to me is so much bigger than any story I have ever told and I would not be fair to him or to our relationship if I shortchanged it and just said “we are engaged.”

Nearly 20 months ago, I met the someone whose work I had admired deeply for many years.  Unbeknownst to him, for years he had affected my professional life in profound ways.  He was someone I respected and admired and someone I hoped I would eventually meet, but not someone where I would think I’d find a refuge, a home, and love like I have been lucky enough to experience all this time.

Things happen for a reason…and you hear this said often, but you never really think they actually do.  I know that I went through life thinking that things just happened, and that they were things to help define you not to lead you to something. But then Hugh happened…

In my previous blog, the one that chronicled my twenties, I wrote about a lot of isolated incidents and random situations that just seemed to document the naivete, openness, and awkwardness of someone who is starting out in life.  Some of you might recall my teavels, me falling in love, gaining and losing friendships, and my ever present feeling that although I had everything I was missing something.

Though I didn’t know it then, that blog led me to this point.

Thanks to that blog, and all the wonderful people who for I long time I believed “lived in the internet”, I can map every decision that brought Hugh and I together.

The day Hugh and I met, my life changed forever. As I was getting dressed last April 9th, I thought I would go meet the thought leader who (unbeknownst to him) had been a mentor, and an inspiration. Instead, I found the best thing to ever happen to me, and began to experience the greatest love I have ever felt…one that grows and multiplies with every smile and every touch.  One that reminds me of cheesy poetry and that I hope every day will last a lifetime.

I never expected when I moved to the causeway that I would one day be Mrs. MacLeod.

Actually, I never thought I would ever marry at all…though I was blessed with the ability to love deeply and intensely, I was never the trusting kind.  Though I now live a life filled with show tunes, for most of my life I believed that love, like in love songs and in the ways I had always experienced it, was meant to be felt deeply and one day end with the soft sound of heartbreak.

But here I am.

I fell in love with someone who learned to love me despite my flaws and my reluctance to seek permanence.  I found someone who has changed me and has made me want to be the kind of person I never thought I could be.

Every road I took to lead me to what I thought would be my happy place, led me to Hugh last April 9th.  On September 29th he asked me to be his wife….

And I look forward to a giving him the kind of home I’ve only known in dreams, and am grateful for a lifetime of opportunities to make him as happy as he continuously makes me…

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PechaKucha Night Miami: Art in the Digital Age

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