Improvements

Why do I get myself so worked up? I heard back from Dr. B today, and we're going to try to get together to talk (and to get my wedding present) before I leave. The changes that the reader suggested are just for the after-defense final submission, and it's looking like the department's going to approve my thesis for defense. Huzzah!

Now I must get back to packing. I have an irate husband who noticed that I was blogging during our precious little packing time. (But it's progressing!)

Good developments of the day:

• We have a phone and internet account in Victoria now! A new phone number is still coming.
• SGI let Chris transfer the car registration to me (we made it a gift to a spouse, and so that takes care of any other concerns) and so we can keep our Saskatchewan plates. Meaning the only BC ID we'll need is Chris's driver's license. (Yay, Saskatchewan letting us keep our health cards! Yay, full-time student!) Life is now much cheaper. In other news: I'm suddenly a car owner and Chris is not. I lord this over him.
• I will be fine regarding my thesis!

Today is a good day.

Internet Doppelgangers!

This girl Daniela has just declared me to be her internet doppelganger/soulmate. Of what I've read so far, I tend to agree. (But I've only read the post in which she declares me as such.)

Initial Wedding Pictures

I haven't seen any official wedding pictures yet (I get the wedding and reception pictures tonight, and then the portraits arrive tomorrow), but here are a couple of digital photos that friends and family sent us.

This one is from Lee:



And this one is from Janny and me, taken by my Mom just before the wedding. (Notice the bright red nose -- I fixed my make-up after that):

Sweet, sweet computer access

I'm back! I've finally returned from a week of honeymoon/computer woes. I apparently forgot my power supply cord for my laptop at home, and only had enough power left on my battery to connect to the (dial-up) internet and download my e-mail. Including an e-mail from Dr. B informing me that the readers had my thesis, and wondering if we could meet after I got back. After a couple of days of being unable to track down any internet access, I called my dad to check my university webmail and transcribe an e-mail to Dr. B. When he got to my webmail he discovered that Dr. B had subsequently sent me two e-mails. One informed me that his and the readers' copies of my thesis were missing four (random) pages, including the abstract! (The other e-mail contained feedback from one of my readers -- very positive.)

Okay. I can guarantee that those pages were in my thesis when I submitted it for photocopying to the departmental secretary. I went over that thesis a million times before handing it in! Of course the abstract was there -- it was the first page after the table of contents and I read it over a million times! Unfortunately, the secretary's away on vacation, and so even if she had the missing pages somewhere, no one would be able to access them. Dr. B wanted me to e-mail him a digital copy of my thesis, but it was on my (hibernating) computer!

Lesson #1: Save a million copies of your thesis, in several places. I have previous drafts on my memory key (at home, but accessible for my father) and on my university's netstorage (very easily accessible), but I forgot this time.

Thankfully, Derek came out to visit us on Saturday, and brought with him my sister's power cord. It's not perfectly compatable with my computer, but my computer allowed me about half an hour more of usage, wherein I e-mailed Dr. B and sent him the digital copies. I still haven't heard back from Dr. B.

I'm trying not to freak out.

I'll have to update more this week. I have a bunch of entries stored up in my head -- mostly one about how hilarious life is, being married to Christopher. Now I have to go pack up my apartment. We're moving to Victoria this week!

Eatonia Oasis

So, now we've left town for a few days and we're spending the better part of the week out here in Eatonia. Where else would we honeymoon? I'm so glad, because I always feel so relaxed out here. I can really escape everything here; it's so beautiful and everyone's so nice. Someday I'd like to take Chris to Paris, and in a couple of weeks we're going to explore Vancouver Island, but for right now, here is the best place for me. After the stresses of last week, I need to be here.

I'm writing from the Eatonia library (open from Tuesday to Thursday), which operates out of an old train station. Of course I love it. We took a walk to the corner store to buy pork for supper, and later we're going to go swimming at the local pool. This afternoon, after we leave the library, we're going to the park to read. (Me: Catherine Marshall's Beyond Ourselves. Him: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. He had to wait a whole extra two days to buy it, because we got married the day it was released.) Tomorrow (because it's closed today) we're going to spend some time at my favourite tea house, Tea and Tassels on First (across the street from our place). We promised the owner that we'd visit when we were back. (And hey! Cheesecake and rooibos tea. I'm not complaining.)

Last week was a crazy mix of beauty, joy and horrible pain. I need this week: peace, healing and restoration. I need this summer, before the craziness of the PhD begins.

This has been brought to you by the Small Town West Central Saskatchewan Travel Board, with the message: "Who needs Hawaii? Niagra Falls? Bah!"

So...

I'm married. Weird.


On another note, the wedding and reception were perfect. They were hilarious! The antics flowergirl of the 2-year-old flower girl (Wee Girly) kept us from being too nervous or teary. And apparently I was very much myself (I did a fist-pump and said "Yesss!" when Chris had to say "I plight my troth to thee" in the vows, as we had half jokingly instructed the officiant to include.)

And I got the procrastinator's dream present: Ky, Lyn and Nathan gave me three seasons of Northern Exposure. And Derek gave me the series of Fantastic Four. Awesome. I will never get a PhD.

Thursday, July 18, 1996

Dear Maryanne-who-is-about-to-be-married,

I am so happy for you/me/us! Who is he? What is he like? Do I know him yet? [Answer: no] What would I think of it if I knew? (If I don't get married, I may never get to open this letter or the one I wrote a few days ago.)

I love to imagine you, just before the wedding, wearing a long, white wedding dress and veil, taking a break, sending all away for a precious moment of remembrance. You, Maryanne-I-haven't-become-yet, are looking back and me and wondering if you have ever been so foolish. (Do all of this! You'd better be wearing your wedding dress!) (And veil!)

Who are your bridesmaids? Maid of honour? Flower girl? Husband-to-be? Groomsen? What does it feel like to be in love? I know I haven't experienced real love yet! To be eternally bond to [the] only man you could really have any feelings for. Wow. Does he meet all the rigid standards I have set? Or are all these standards just and avoidance of the one meant for me? [Yes] Does he love poetry? Understand a sunset? Love flowers? Humour you in your little foolish bouts? [Yes] Pretend to still believe in faeries, as you must? [This part is L. M. Montgomery's fault.] (Wow. I have set standards that must not be broken.) [Oh, goodness.]

I've sent you "something blue." It used to be a forget-me-not. (I pressed in my poetry book Tennyson to Yeats.) It used to be beautiful.

How is the little flower garden? [Neglected since I moved.]

My blessing is on your wedding. I love your groom because you do.

Love,
Maryanne [middle and last name], 15 and 17 months.

P.S. Send him my love.

[I also had a letter to open on July 16, 2005, written 10 years ago. Less content, more trying to preserve my memories of my 14th summer. But I pressed myself a yellow daisy. Both appropriate. Does anyone else find it eery that I had two letters from my teenaged self to open today? I'm glad Derek reminded me of them.]

Just get me to the church on time!

I'm sitting in my parents' office, wearing my veil, and with my hair and make-up done. My Dad is resting for a while, having now fixed my earring with Krazy Glue. I've secured my brother for picking up the flowers. My engagement ring is switched to my right hand, in preparation for my wedding band. The junior bridesmaids are playing foosball downstairs, and my Mom's making arrangements about lunch. My dress is hanging behind me right now. The photographer is napping on the couch. Two hours and twenty minutes until I get married.

So...now what?

(Note to Leah, and to anyone who's in the city and wants to attend the ceremony: Regina Apostolic Church at 1pm.)

I'm Getting Married in the Morning...

To Do, on the Day Before the Wedding:

• Ensure I have no further nosebleeds (total nosebleeds yesterday = 5).
• Buy Chris's wedding present.
• Drink a lot of water.
• Buy a case of water bottles, for the wedding party.
• Wrap thank-you presents.
• Scan photo of Chris and me. Send photo to Chris's parents.
• Write my after-vows speech.
• Hair appointment: 2:00pm. At the hair appointment, confirm everything for tomorrow.
• Get Mom to pick up my dress.
• Decorate, decorate, decorate.
• Contact a heap of people.
• Finish place cards.
• Rehearsal, rehearsal dinner.

That's all I can think of right now. Today's going to be crazy.

Newest weather forecast for tomorrow: 26 Celsius, with a 40% chance of thundershower. Let's hope it doesn't rain during pictures, but is nicely overcast so that we can do all the pictures we want.

And speaking of crazy: Staples messed up a bunch of the programs, and so my sister went back there and made them re-do them. The manager did them herself, and then had them folded for free. This reminds me of the gong show that was invitations... But the programs are gorgeous; Janice did a really good job with them.

And that's all for now, from the craziness that is wedding preparations.

I am blessed...

I am blessed with friends and family

Today started off terribly. After a day in which I started running a fever and was getting really incoherent, I made the mistake of taking a decongestant last night. It sounded like a good idea -- get everything out quickly -- but instead, it irritated my sinuses too much and I've spent the day getting nosebleeds. The first one happened while I was supposed to be meeting with my and Chris's mothers at the reception site. I was a half an hour late and really shouldn't have been driving. After my second nosebleed, at the reception site, my mother and Marnie took my "To-Do" list away from me and started dividing up the tasks. Then my Mom made me leave my car at the Bible College, and took me home with her. Ky and Janice then showed up and took on the rest of my to-do list: making phone calls, running errands.

Today, which was supposed to be so busy, has been spent hanging out on my parents' couch, visiting with my grandma, drinking juice, and fiddling with wedding music. (My favourite.) Then I started getting messages from wedding guests who were offering to help decorate tomorrow, and wanted to know if there was anything else they could do (my terrible week has gotten around). On top of that, I got a few messages from dear friends who thought they couldn't come to the wedding, who now can come. And it makes me happy (and isn't a problem for the caterers).

I am blessed to have known Mikey

He called me Mary, and I called him Mikey. And he always made sure I gave him a hug. He had the oddest, most creative sense of humour -- Karl and I made his birthday by giving him a Nick Carter birthday card that called him our "flyest friend." In return, he gave Karl a Barbie birthday card that included stickers. He and Chris had a deal that, should Mikey be able to round up a couple of camels, some llamas, and fresh dates, then Mike could buy me away from Chris. (I encouraged said deal.)

He was so creative and so thoughtful. He couldn't stay mad at me for very long, and very little made him happier than time spent at the "Mary and Meggy house." Especially when things were rough, you could expect that he'd show up at any time of the day or night. On one red-letter evening, he made himself a mask out of a KFC bag and wore it around for the evening.

He had a passion for Strong Bad E-mails, and called me "What's Her Face," whenever I wore my baggy pants and pigtails.

He phoned me from the line-up for auditioning for Canadian Idol, waking me up, and freely admitting (while in the presence of other auditionees) that he'd never watched the show before. He made it to the second round, and ended up opening for Captain Tractor, because they were so thrilled that he would sing one of their songs on national television. (Yes, the boy sang "The Last Saskatchewan Pirate.")

And his funeral is during my wedding; therefore, I'm having my own blogosphere memorial right now. I'm joining Lee, Derek and Becca in this memorial. I hope that, someday, all the hurt, the misunderstanding, the manic episodes, fall away and all we remember is the Mikey that I know and love: a good, godly boy, who cared so deeply about his friends, and talked about his family (especially his sisters) so constantly. And I know that he's at peace with his Father now.

ETA: Ariann has joined the memorial now, too.

Blessed Assurance

One of the biggest feelings that I always suffer when I'm grieving is guilt. Mostly, I feel guilt over whatever way I feel the need to grieve ("there are people far more closely connected to this than me; why am I so hit by this?") or by feeling that I am not grieving enough. The latter is what I was facing yesterday: was it insensitive of me to be carrying on with wedding business as I was handling the untimely deaths of two who were dear to me? Is it right that my wedding should compete with two different funerals?

But now I've been getting plenty of assurance: I'm doing the right thing, and a lot of people are praying that my wedding day will be joyful. And, really, that's important to me. I've been communicating back and forth with Mike's sister, and she said that it did her good that, in the midst of this, something "so normal and happy" is happening. My mother said essentially the same thing when I talked with her, yesterday.

And, beyond external assurances, I feel carried by peace and comfort. I even don't feel justified in calling yesterday the worst day of my life, in spite of it all, because the overriding feeling of the day was peace. I had a lot of opportunities to bring some comfort to people who were in pain (although I was also the bringer of bad news to those same people). And I've had an overwhelming sense of God being in control.

And so I'll revise yesterday's theme: thank you for praying.

Dirge in Marriage and Mirth in Funeral

Just as I was thinking that the week leading up to my wedding couldn't get any harder, I got an e-mail from my friend Mike's sister (some of you may remember him as Crazy Legs, who commented on this blog quite extensively). He killed himself on Monday.

I can't even begin to describe the day that I've had. The pain has been hitting in waves: sometimes, I'm continuing on with my life with a "stiff upper lip." Then sometimes the meaning of the day would hit me and I would become very small.

I've said it a lot today, but: please pray.

And Now Things Have Changed

Please pray.

Here I was, worrying about a sore throat, about the weather, about a nearly-flat tire on my way to my dress fitting, and I get home to a message from my mother, where it sounds like she's been crying. It turns out that my cousin Marlin was killed in a motorcycle accident. He was two months older than me.

Today has been the strangest day. I barely have known how to act: I didn't really want to deal with other people, and yet I didn't want to be alone. There was nothing I could do, and yet somehow wedding preparations seemed like blasphemy. It was really hard going back through the guest list and trying to guess who wasn't going to be able to make it on Saturday after all. And I'm really avoiding thoughts that feel really selfish to me -- such as "But nothing like this was supposed to happen on the week of my wedding!"

Please pray for his family. His little brother just got married on Saturday, and his older sister just had a daughter over Easter. And please pray for his wife (of not even a year). I can't imagine being a widow before I'm 25.

This is probably way too soon to be posting this on my blog, and I'm sorry if you're in my family and this is the way in which you first find out. I don't know what else to do.

Black fly in my Chardonnay?

Paranoia #2 of the Day: I just checked the weather reports, and both (Environment Canada and The Weather Network) are giving a significant chance of rain on Saturday. But at least less hot than the rest of the week (for which poor be-suited Chris would be thankful).

All I need is nice weather for between 2-4pm, when we're doing pictures. That's all I ask. Well, it would be nice to not be raining whenever I'm outside in my dress, but 2-4. That's all I ask.

But I will not use the word "ironic."

Uh-oh

Woke up with a sore throat this morning. Typical for post-Camp, but very very bad for four-days-to-wedding. Please pray.

Four and a Half

Today, I found myself saying, "This is my last Monday before I get married." I wonder when it'll become real.

This has been a crazy day. We bought the toss bouquet and the garter, a bunch of thank you presents, all the film, photo albums, and the guest book. I drew up a program. We bought the marriage licence. That's right: legally, we can now get married. Did you know that, in Saskatchewan, you have to wait a day until your marriage licence is legal? They give you a day waiting period, presumably, the prevent spur-of-the-moment marriages. You can't just say "We've decided that we're getting married today."

So much University stuff is lurking in the background, and yet I'm buried underneath wedding details. I have a final fitting tomorrow morning!

And with that, I must away to bed.

I am wearing: a pink tank top and pyjama pants.

Days remaining: four and a half

Thank you presents remaining: countless.

Number of people who asked me if I'm getting nervous/excited, or if I'm ready, at Camp: roughly 15% of the 1000 people attending.

Movie goals of the week: Oklahoma! and possibly Newsies, with Ky.

Bedtime: now.

Temporary Existence

My life is on the brink of change, and yet at this moment it continues as usual. There is much evidence of the impending changes: wedding presents sit at my parents' house (coffee makers, dishes, blankets) that will not be used until after we move out to Victoria. As of Friday, I am officially a renter in British Columbia. (Note to self: set up a phone account.) Chris keeps paying for things for us, claiming that he might as well, considering the fact that we're switching to joint banking and he is the one with money. We have cards addressed to "Chris and Maryanne [New Last Name]." We've filled out all our information for the wedding register. We spent much of last week with married people, who often talked to us as if we were married, or made plans with us for collective married couple activities that we will organise at future camps.

And yet, here I am, in the same old room, on the same old bed, blogging on my computer. I'm wearing pyjamas that I received at one of the bridal showers, and I had a moment's hesitation over whether I could wear them yet. They're clean pyjamas! Why can't I wear them?

And yet, through all this, I feel like me. And kind of like I'm a kid playing dress-up. Last week I discovered that I've settled into a perpetual state of shock, rather than attempt to fathom everything that must change this month.

Back

Oh, goodness. What a week to be away. You have no idea how much you get cut off from the entire world when you're at Camp. For that week, we purposely unplug from everything, to the point of not even listening to recorded music while we're on the grounds -- whatever we're listening to, we're singing and playing ourselves. It's fascinating. But that makes it very surreal when world events break through our bubble and we come to terms with it.

It was very difficult to be at Camp, and away from internet (although, I must announce, they -- of all people -- just got wireless!), away from BBC News, away from the Globe and Mail and away from blogger analysis, this week. I first heard about the London bombings through the Camp grapevine, and finally my sister sat in her car to listen to the news on the radio, and announced it to the rest of our dorm. There were a lot of people in the prayer room, before that morning's church service, of course. (And that was as much my response as everyone else's: all I could do was pray.)

But it was actually good to spend the week away from a lot of media, especially at this time. No, I'll rephrase that: I'm glad I spent this week far away from anything that resembles CNN or Fox. I had all the essential facts of what happened, and then when I got home, I read through the newspaper through the different reports and analysis.

But now I'm back. This is going to be a crazy week, but I'm already paring back on what I'm doing in these last few days before the wedding. We'll do what we need to do, and take a lot of time to have fun with people and to relax, and that's it.

So, those are the disjointed thoughts of an exhausted Queen, emerging from the bubble.

On Hiatus

I'll be away from the computer for the next week, because I'm off to Camp! When I get back, there will be less than a week until the wedding! So, stay tuned for the craziness. Because, of course, I'll be blogging it.

Until then, have a look around the old blog. Check out the archives.

You can also read some of my personal favourites, from throughout the past six months, such as:

• The Adventures of Schmuckie, the loud neighbour.
• If you're in a more serious mood, I have my musings and rants: An Ode to my Parents, a rant about married female academics, my explanation of how I became a historian, the rant about designer clothing that brought the first significant rise in readership, and my new favourite: my musing on a Nazi spy who read Mary Poppins.
• You could follow the whole procrastination/work process of me going crazy writing this thesis. Mostly I recommend you read the insanity that is my live-blogging of an attempted all-nighter.
• Of course, then there's the pop culture-obsessed posts. See: live-blogging the Oscars (complete with my personal mockeries of Scarlett Johannsen), my review of Paul Gross's made-for-TV movie H2o, and my love-hate relationship with The Revenge of the Sith.
• Finally, evidence of my insanity: here, here, here, here, definitely here, and absolutely here.

Welcome to the insanity that is the Queen of West Procrastination. (In other news, apparently the Queen of East Procrastination reads my blog! Hi! And congratulations on finishing comps! ABD! ABD! In other news, she informed me that comps were more stressful than losing a family member. I dread.)

See y'all in a week! (I'm preparing for seeing Americans, because many come up for Camp.)

Fireworks, exploding in the distance...

Yesterday, I was one of 25, 000 people who went to watch Great Big Sea in Wascana Park (40,000 were in Wascana Park in total). (Can you imagine how crazy parking was, when 21% of the city's population was in one park, albeit one of the largest urban parks in North America?) They announced that this was the largest concert in Regina history.

I felt so much like I was part of the community that evening. I was already thinking about how I would tell people that, yes, I saw Great Big Sea the time they played Canada Day in Regina. And I'll mention how this Newfoundland band played on an official day of mourning in their province (commemorating the disaster of the first day of the battle of the Somme in 1916). And I'll talk about how long it took us to get to a place where we could even see the band, and how the audience changed drastically between the previous band, K-os, and Great Big Sea. (We, along with plenty of middle-aged people, were replacing boys in dreadlocks who wore woven hats and stood in circles with their friends, doing a sort of crouch-dance).

We then watched the best fireworks show I've seen in my whole life. (And I am usually left feeling a little let down after fireworks. This time, I was stunned. There had to be provincial funding for them this year, considering that it's the Centennial.) And took a bazillion years getting home. People had started ignoring traffic laws and parking in the middle of Broad Street, to watch the fireworks. Chris and I found a parking spot that was pretty much legal, or at least not distruptive of traffic, and so we had no problem from police.

And this got me wondering: when will I next feel this at home? I know this city and its traditions so well, and coming to an event like this means running into countless friends and family. When I go to Mosaic, I can explain to people why there were so many years without an Irish pavilion.

I was at the shortest free concert in Buffalo Days history, when Matthew Good got hit in the head with a shoe in the middle of "Apparitions." Along with other youths from my city, I sympathised with him at first, then thought it was ungracious of him to stop the concert immediately after the song (and was hurt by the angry words of his bandmates), having my hurt turned into indignation when Good publicly told other performers to avoid Regina. Okay, so I've cheered when other performers have subsequently announced, "We didn't like Matthew Good anyway!" But I also have "Ooo"ed with everyone else, whenever I hear a story about "The Guy Who Threw the Shoe," as he is still remembered.

I've stood in line at Milky Way, when it was still too cold to be eating ice cream outside. I've driven to Moose Jaw just to go to Boston Pizza, because the city's so close and it's fun to say "Let's go to Moose Jaw!" and hop in the car, when you're really bored. I've barely ever cruised Albert, or at least I'd like to think that I've only done so ironically. I have crashed an event for the Dragon Boat Festival.

I've made fun of this city for so many years (not that I think any other city is better -- I've never been the type to want to get out of here as quickly as possible) and yet I have been part of everything just as much as everyone else. And I'm kind of sad that I'm leaving just before the Canada Summer Games arrive. I've been part of enough build-up for it, and then suddenly I'm going to be the resident of another province entirely, "just when cool things are starting to happen here," as my fiancé said last evening.

How long does it take to become part of another city? How long will it take for me to feel at home?

In Honour of This Great Day...

In the true Canadian spirit, I bring you: political satire.

Honestly, we don't get any more Canadian than when we're making fun of ourselves.

And so, I'll start it all off with a sentimental favourite, which I found only shortly after my family first got Internet (and which I just re-found on yahoo.ca): the headquarters of Canadian World Domination.

Next, I point your attention again to the archives of Rick Mercer's (soon no longer Monday) Report. I recommend that you pay attention to October 25, 2004, and the video where Prime Minister Paul Martin has Rick over to 24 Sussex Dr. (It's become a Canadian tradition here. Back when Mercer was on This Hour Has 22 Minutes, Rick Mercer took then-Prime Minister Jean Chretien to Arby's.)

And then in other true Canadian style, I bring you Television Without Pity, a site run by Canadians (the administrator and one of the two founders) and devoted to American television. And Fametracker, its sister site, run entirely by Canadians. (Hey! I'm not complaining about them. You may notice them in my links, as important "Tools of Procrastination".)

Welcome to Canada, my friend. Welcome to Canada.