Almost there

Hi all!

I'm still in Capetown, but Pirate and I are leaving tonight. I'll be back in the UK tomorrow morning, and probably begin all the back blogging on Sunday or Monday. I have some great stories to share, including videos of

• Hot hot penguin-on-penguin action
• My baptism by full immersion into Pirate's cricket club

And of course, lots of lovely photos. I can't wait to share it all with you. Not much longer now, I promise.

Oh, and here's one more teaser: we're going this afternoon to pick up...

MY WEDDING RING! (Gold and diamonds being much cheaper in SA than the UK)

Ciao for now, my dahlinks! *Muah!*

Leavin' on a jet plane

Pirate and I are off to Sith Efrica! Pirate, being the international cricket star that he is, is going on a 2 1/2 week tour of South Africa to play cricket, and I'm going with him! I was up until 3 a.m. this morning packing so that I'd be ready to go right after work today. (All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go...)

The latest wedding disaster is that all the Save the Date cards that I put in a bundle and mailed to mom vial Royal Mail Air Sure (supposedly trackable all the way to it's final destination), have gone completely missing. Gone. All of them.

So now ALL the STD cards that were meant to go to the American guests (and the numerous other friends and family mom has decided need to be invited, despite the fact that I have never met some of them) have to be redone. But of course I'm leaving. So all the spare stationery has been put in the post to mom and all the files have been emailed to her in a million different formats so she's got no excuse. She'll have to deal with.

And she's fucking thrilled! Because now she gets to do something without any input from me AND she gets to be the hero who saved the day, thereby justifying all her meddling. Now all I'm going to hear for the next 7 months (hell, probably the next 70 years) is, "What on earth would you have done without me! You never could have carried this off if I hadn't been there for you! Aren't you glad now that I was so willing to help you??" So much for telling her to back off. Fart.

But I don't care. (Not at the moment, anyway. I'm sure when I get back in March I'll care very much.) But tomorrow is another day and all that jazz. For now, I'm going to think about arriving someplace warm and sunny with the Pirate at my side. (When I come back, I'll wear your wedding ring...) There will be crickets, wickets, penguins, sandy beaches, birdwatching, hiking, and sweet sweet lurve. Oh God get me out of here.

I don't know how much internet access I'll have while I'm gone, and even if I do, frankly, I won't be using it. I need to unplug for a while.

So come back in March and I'll show you all some lovely photos and tell you about the penguins.

Sweet Cheeks

Last night after a good bitch session with Miss Melville, who has worked for my mom for 5 years and is well acquainted with her neuroticisms and control fetish, I was feeling somewhat more relaxed. I followed that up with a chat with Vi, mother of the world's cutest monster (honest, he's like godzilla in a blonde, curly wig), who had similar stress with her wedding. She reassured me that even if we go with our original plan it is still possible to enjoy the day. I'm just terrified that at after all the drama I won't be able to enjoy the end product, you know? Anyway, after all that and a good 30 minutes looking at photos of beagle puppies, I'm feeling a bit better.

Also talked with the Pirate, which is always comforting. At the end of the phone call I said "I love you."

His response? "Ok then."

I rolled my eyes and sent a text, explaining that "The correct respons to 'I love you' is NOT 'Ok then,' you suave goofball."

His respone? "Thanks for the tip, sweet-cheeks." That made me laugh.

In nature-related niceties, the weekend rowing was loverly. It's been sunny and warmer (in the 50s) for over a week. The crocuses are blooming, the primrose are in flower, the daffodils are sprouting, and all along the river bank the ducks are bumping butts and there are little green shooty things emerging from the mud. I took a scull out and did some hard pieces, in shorts and T-shirt for the first time this year, and Pirate ran along the river beside and kept me company in the sunshine. Those are the moments I live for, really.

Oh that DOES it

I have had it up to *here*

You know I've been going out of my mind with the wedding plans, right? And I've only been telling you a tiny bit. In addition:

I've been on the phone with my mom more than 2 hours a day for the past 3 weeks.

Last night, after I was in bed (I hate being awakend when I have to be up at 6 am for training), I got a phone call from my father telling me that my mom was upset because I had pushed her out of the wedding plans and she wanted to be more involved!

I pushed her out???? SHE'S FUCKING TAKING OVER! SHE'S MORE INVOLVED THAN THE PIRATE!!!!! I've been reduced to meer middleman, conveying her wishes and commands to the various parties.

Not only that, but there are numerous issues over which she and the Pirate disagreed, and with few (1) exceptions, she has entirely gotten her way. This weekend I got really weepy with the Pirate because I felt that I was being torn apart, and there was absolutely no way I could keep both him and my mother happy, and that if it came down to it, he's more important and his wishes take priority, but I don't (didn't) want to have to be that blunt with my mother.

And then she has the balls to get upset with me. I went livid.

I spent 30 minutes on the phone with dad explaining all of this. He was incredibly sympathetic, and at the end of my tirade said, "You've got me convinced. She's the one out of control." He was about to attempt to deal with her diplomatically and explain my feelings (she's running me ragged micromanaging everything), when she heard him on the phone and exclaimed "Oh, so now I'm the enemy!"

Great. just fucking great.

So what did I do? I rolled over and played dead like I have since I was a kid. I learned very young that you don't win arguements with my mom. No one does. They are pointless. In 29 years she's never once said "I was wrong" about anything. Ever. So I sat there listening to her tell me how much I had hurt her by leaving her out of the wedding (I still have genuinely no idea how she can possibly feel this way) and I wound up aplogizing to her.

God I'm spineless.

I told her how I feel. But did she aplogize? Did she fuck. She doesn't apologize because she is never wrong. It's that simple.

So I aplogized to her. She feels better. I'm still seething. I can't convey how angry I am. And I strenuoulsy resent the fact that she has made planning my wedding into a minor war, fought with emotional manipulation and guilt. Finally at 1:30 in the morning I hung up the phone, took a double dose of sleeping pills, and cried myself to sleep.

On Thrusday (Valentine's Day), Pirate and I are leaving to spend 2 1/2 weeks in Capetown, South Africa. Hopefully in that interval I will be able to calm down and come back feeling refreshed and actually enjoy the wedding planning again. But I'm not hopefull. Pirate and I will be seriously discussing the possibility of eloping.

I can't take this any more, and there's still more than 7 months to go.

Why I'm going insane

Last night I received a 4 page document from my parents. It was a giant list of questions about the wedding. 4 pages. single spaced. Here is a sample of the questions contained therein:

• Where will [bridesmaid from Scotland] stay? When will she arrive?
• When and how will you collect your dress from the dressmaker? [the dressmaker is half a block from where I live.]
• When will the rehearsal be held? How long will it last? Where will we go to eat afterwards? How will we get there?
• What is [Best Man’s] availability? Who will ensure that he gets to where he needs to be, when he needs to be there and dressed as he needs to be? [He's an adult for Christ's sake! Do you want me to wipe his ass for him, too?!]
• What symbol will you put on the place cards to indicate to the serving staff what meal people have ordered? [I'm not kidding. The wedding is more than 7 months away and they are already worried about the fucking place cards.]
• Who will be your Trail BOSS, someone who will ride herd on and coordinate all the activities for the day? Let wedding party and guests know when and where to be, insuring guests get in from the airport in good order. Insures everything goes as planned. THIS is a tough role. [Sister in law] did it using an excel spreadsheet and minute to minute planning to help but still had glitches.
• Where will you dress for the wedding? At the hotel? At the church? How many hours ahead of time should dressing begin? If dressing at the hotel, how will you get to the church? Walking will be very risky. [it's across the street.] In whose car? Will a cab work for such a short fare
• Pirate won’t arrive until the day of the wedding. Where will he go? He shouldn’t see you in your dress before the ceremony. Could he dress and groom in his parents' room at the hotel? How and when does he go to the church? Who sees to it? [are you fucking kidding me? He gets himself to the church. By walking! He's not a fucking child!!!]

And it goes on. and on. Can you see why I'm going nuts?!?!? These people are out of their minds. They are micromanaging me into insanity.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ceiling Cat is my co-pilot

Crazy anonymous de-lurking revealed!

Well, I finally found out who the anonymous goof-ball is that's been leaving tantalizing comments alluding to a shared past. It was one of my original suspects, the one i dismissed on the grounds that the grammar and punctuation in his comments was too good, and i would have expected more internet/texting-style shorthand from this individual.

He's a great guy with whom I was friends throughout high school (even "dated" for a short time, if you can call it that. I don't think we ever kissed, but we saw a few Disney films together over the summer and had some nice picnics.)

He took me to the homecoming dance, um, Freshman year? I think it was Freshman year. I remember that I was wearing a red dress when every single other girl in the school was wearing black velvet that year, and both his parents and one of his brothers were working as chaperones, and they spaced themselves strategically around the gym so we were never out of sight of one of them. I have never felt so conspicuous in my entire life.

Now he's living and working in Virginia with his wife and 2 kids, and seems to be well and happy, and that is good. We haven't spoken in some years, but it's nice to get back in touch. For a long time after high school I was really bitter about the way I was treated by my classmates (the girls were almost universally bitchy, snotty, petty, shallow, shrill, and two-faced, and most of the guys could have put "sexual harassment" as their #1 extra-curricular activity) and deliberately severed all connections with that life. Mostly now I'm over that chip (mostly), and getting back in touch doesn't seem to be dredging up the awful memories I thought it would. So that's good.

Warm memories

So afterward, as I was looking for the articles of clothing that got scattered across the room, I found my underwear... on the radiator! Glorious, warm, not at all fresh but feeling like it just came out of the dryer underwear! I shimmied them on. Ahhh.

Now I'm sitting at my computer, alone again, eating crackers with peanut butter, and thinking of warm memories from the afternoon.