Snapshots

Sans a camera on our wedding day, I relied wholeheartedly on my memory to capture the moments. Ian captured everything else!

Sleeping horribly the night before at Betty and Ed's.
A surprise guest 6 days before it was due to arrive - Ibuprofen being my good friend.
Bethann and I dragging ourselves to the hair salon and neither feeling fully awake until hair and makeup were finished and we looked fabulous.
Oh wait, I take that back - Bethann hated her makeup and I was talking her off the ledge at 9:30 that morning.
Jocelyn and Kristen arriving at the house, getting dressed, and then helping me into my gown, everyone laughing seeing boobies.
On the porch, dressed finally, Ia snapping away, attempting to pin on dad's boutinier.
WHERE WAS THAT STINKIN LIMO?! (I cannot wait to see the photo of Jocelyn "That bastard!")...
Me trying to get into that limo when it finally arrived at 2 minutes before 11.
Last minute guests arriving at the church…I wait anxiously in the limo.
Looking up, seeing Jill on the steps waiting for her cue.
That crazy aisle runner!
How surreal it was walking down the aisle with dad then seeing the entire church packed full of people.
My leg shaking on the altar – is this ceremony almost over?!
Looking around to stay calm - Look at all these people! This church is PACKED! Jill is in the balcony and sounds amazing with the organ and the trumpet...
Walking hand in hand with Vince to the back, people clapping...
Grandparent photos outside the church.
How glorious it was at the park - wasn't it supposed to rain today?! I cannot believe it's 70 plus degrees and sunny.
The random dude peeing in the park.
The ice cream truck.
Getting to the TH and all of us devouring the appetizers!
Our parents being introduced to the Cure.
The bridal party being introduced to Fleetwood Mac's Don't Stop - everyone standing and clapping and all of us dancing.
Going right into our first dance and everything around us feeling like a blur.
Me and dad dancing to Paul Simon's Father & Daughter and both of us being all teary eyed.
All of us crying while Vince danced with Aunt Eileen.
Trying to compose ourselves as our food was served and taking it all in from our head table view. Scott spun all my singer songwriter tunes - I distinctly remember David Gray, Dave Matthews, U2, Crowded House and the Finn Brothers, Lindsey Buckingham, Richard Ashcroft (I dragged Vince onto the dance floor for C'mon People)...
Eating every last bit of my food!
Picking up the digital camera and taking a few photos with it.
Liz coming over and offering uplifting words to us.
Becca knocking over the candelabra (thankfully after it was blown out).
Some of the first songs being We Are Family and Shout (A little bit louder now).
Dad busting out the Turtle.
Being dragged into a big ol family photo just as Kool & The Gang came on (hello? I want to dance!?)...
THE NEUTRON DANCE!
Dancing with Susie to Katrina and the Waves
I cannot believe Uncle Joe caught that garter?! Where was my back up Morrissey song then?
Devon helping me to the bathroom.
Wandering into the Den and Brian, Johnny, and Mitchie getting everyone a round of camacazie shots.
Standing by the doorway and just watching everyone for 5 minutes.
Last snapshots outside on the deck.

Como se dice "Relaxing" en espanol?

I am in Mexico right now about 24 hours from saying Adios, Hasta Luego. Our time here was much anticipated and has proven very relaxing. Like when I go to the shore - I just sleep better and feel more relaxed overall. I think I slept a good 10 hours the first two nights we were here and since then about 9 hours each night. At home I stay up until 11 or midnight. Here, I've passed out as early as 8 pm or as late as 10:30 pm. I suppose the heat and the walking and activity have really wiped me out! Normally I come home from a vacation wanting a vaction, but this time, I can say I am very happy with the quality of R&R I've had here.

Here are some photos of our time here in the Riviera Maya.
www.gensales.net/images/mexico/index.htm

Standing On the Shoulders of Giants

That is where I am right now. I've been here for some time. It's similar to being on the ledge of a cliff, except there you are truly freaking out and ready to jump. Here I am very high up, on top of the world (literally and figuratively) with this amazing panorama view. I've seen a lot of memories pass before me and a lot of the current chaos play out before me from this place.

It's not terribly scary, but it just makes me very aware. I'm not jumping on Saturday...I've been preparing for this day for eons now! But it does mark the beginning of a new phase of my life. I suppose I've been shedding little parts of me for a little while now and the older I get, the less attached I am to those little parts and what they represented. Listening to some old tunes now (and when I compiled the DJ list) I am reminded of where I was and how far I've come.

Everyone asks me how I am feeling. I am not worried about Saturday (except maybe the weather). I'm not worried about saying "I Do" and that it's forever. What I think about isn't Saturday or next week or even next year. I think about 15 years from now because I have absolutely no idea who I'll be, who Vince will be, who we'll be together, how we'll be with kids and other responsibilities factored into the equation. That complete unknown. That is what is more frightening.

One thing that hit me yesterday was my soon to be new last name. There's a lot in a name and I've always been called Banana or Chiquita Banana or some term of endearment. It saddens me to let that go. I'd keep both, but two Italian last names are a mouthful. I thought what I might do is use some wedding money to customize a Sticks box and have it immortalized.

And from up here, closing in on the day, the reality that Mrs. D isn't here sinks in. I've channeled so much energy into getting things accomplished and here and there I'd crack, cry, and then feel as though from Beyond she let a wave of calm wash over us. Last week at Toppers Elisa used her GC for my manicure and said it was from mom and how it was her gift from beyond. It was this unexpected "presence" of her that day. But in the whirlwind that Saturday is sure to bring, how will I see her presence then?

Two weeks ago in my Village Voice horoscope it read the following:
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22–Dec. 21): In contemplating your astrological omens, I'm reminded of Terence McKenna's comment about a friend who "hurled herself into the abyss and discovered that it was a feather bed." If you can summon the courage to dive into the scary depths, Sagittarius, I do believe you'll be pleasantly surprised at the comfy, luxurious digs that await you at the end of your descent. Now go ahead and yell, "Geronimo!" which the dictionary defines as an exclamation used to express exhilaration when leaping from a great height.

Fitting considering my metaphor?

Me & My Shadow

A fabulous Frank Sinatra song. It made the cocktail hour cut. Maybe because it illustrates my life right now. I'm the oldest child, so by nature I'm used to being first, being the guiney pig, being the one in the spotlight (sometimes good, sometimes not), setting the example, needing approval...all those wonderful things that make us first borns Type A and over-achievers. For all the built in stress that comes from that place, it's still familiar territory and where I tend to feel most comfortable. Which makes it extremely difficult for me to be in anyone's shadow.

I remember in Third Grade, this new girl joined our class. We'd have these little contests to see which aisle was the cleanest at the end of each day. Naturally, the new girl's row would win daily. This went on for some time. Little gold stars would adorn their pumpkins, turkeys, holiday trees or whatever symbol for that month. 9 years old I was busting my ass to sweep my floor and clean my desk and my row never got a star. When my parents announced to the teacher we were moving and my last day would be in early December, only then did my row win and get a star.

That's a funny example of someone just playing favorites. That's more annoying than anything else. What's worse is having to work with someone who is always outshining you...to the point where you almost wish that person wasn't there just so you could have a chance. Because I'm a great people person and I can make sales when I have a chance. It's also that there aren't enough people to go around so the ones that do come in my co-worker either already knows/is working with or he swallows them up. Nothing left for the rest of us.

Like the ball hog in basketball.

The nice thing about track was even though there might be one girl or guy who was the fastest on the entire team, he or she wasn't in every race. That person had his/her own area and own race. You knew they were great and valuable to the team as a whole, but essentially, it was about you and your personal best.

It depresses me. My mentality needs more. It needs the chances, the ownership, the sense of acomplishment, the moment to shine, even if it's like the track star that shines in her one area. Marketing is a behind the scenes job and maybe once in a while you see fruits of your labor in an article that's published. I just always enjoyed it because it's a way to express myself creatively. But networking and selling fuels the extrovert in me. It makes me happy. And right now, I'm just not. There's just a big black shadow in front of me all the time.

Nothing To Eat

Apparently no one wants to eat at this wedding. The Catholic Church and the food - the two biggest issues surrounding this wedding. They were issues in the beginning and floated through other discussions and now they are here again. Maybe the flowers could take a close third. Let's think about that. The Church, food, flowers. I mean what the F?

Vince and I had our tasting at the Townehouse the other night and we came away stuffed little pigs but with some well thought out plans for the food. Since there isn't a choice, we'd go with a chicken and we felt a breaded chicken stuffed with a little ham and swiss would be great. A twice baked potato and veggies on the side, a shrimp bisque soup and a caeser salad. Yum. And we chose our top two apps. Meanwhile back at the ranch (68 DOgwood Lane), the 'rents have had this menu for months...MONTHS...and even looked at it last week, knew about the tasting, knew about a details menu with the TH, knew decisions had to given 2 weeks out. Even knew about my crazy work schedule this week. I told them yesterday about the tasting and asked them to have their stuff squared away in time.

They don't care. They purposely controlled the information and didn't tell me they were purposely flaking out on the decision until 7:30 this morning. I mean, what the hell? Food is important and they haven't been giving its proper attention the entire time. Now with hours before the deadline, they are still floundering. I try to take control of my own details and this is what I get.

There's just no respect. No one is treating us like adults who know how to make a decision. I'm too disgusted to write any more.

Cookies & Crackers

Eight years ago I had an internship with Nabisco that lasted about six weeks. I came away from the intership with three valuable lessons:

First, you figure out what you want in life by figuring out what you don't want. I didn't want to be a Food Marketing major anymore. I could not work as a Territory Rep for Kellog's or some big chain, schlepping around to various markets and calling on clients, selling, and checking merchandise. No way.

Second, never ever put up with sexual harassment whether it's blatent or not. If it makes you uncomfortable, speak up. Then keep records of everything because you'll need it if/when the bastard gets fired.

Third, in the end, it's all just cookies and crackers. One of the guys I was following around in those weeks said those words to me and it was hilarious. Literally, that's what it was. Oreo cookies and Triscuit crackers! Years later I still recall it because it grounds me completely.

It's so easy to let things work us into tizzies. I dealt with so much BS in my last job that I now tend to let too much roll off my back. But here and there, someone knifes me in the back, purposely, manipulatively. My one co-worker has done this repeatedly to me over the last few weeks...slithering his way into some of my sales leads and then stealing the sale and customer from me. Each time the knife got a little deeper and the pain stung a little more. I've been honest with this co-worker and told him how it makes me feel...and that I have never done that to him. But today, I just broke down, thankfully, in my car on the ride home. I wasn't there when it happened (which is why it happened)...but he saw me speaking with this guy yesterday about a table and some other items and knew I'd made a call to the artist to obtain additional information. I even sent the guy an email with links. I imagine the guy came in and asked for me. Even if he hadn't, he would have alluded to the previous days conversation. All of which Evil Co-Worker knew. He had the balls to tell my owner he sold the guy the table and talked about the other items. The hilarious part is my owner knew I had worked with the guy! She totally called Evil Co-Worker on it and said "I'm pretty sure that's Chrissie's guy from yesterday."

ARG! I still want to arrange voodoo dolls and stick them with pins and damn Evil Co-Worker to Hell. I could go on about how "look at me, look at me" Evil Co-Worker is but you get the drift.

So I'm left wondering how to handle this tomorrow. I am trying to remember that it's just cookies and crackers here. I mean I'm crying over a lost sale? Get it together Chris. You still need your stinkin wedding band and your marriage is in 3 weeks! But I know my little Type A personality likes that sense of accomplishment and ownership and he is continuously robbing me of it. Can I find that somewhere else? Would I be OK finding it somewhere else? Or should I let it go, be the bigger person who doesn't need this drama in her life to define her? He's the 40 year old baby who obviously needs the attention more than me so he stoops to evil manipulative measures to get it. But why do I have to roll over and enable him? It's what keeps victims entrenched in their victim mentality.

What do I really want here? To work with the guy on his design space? Or to F Evil Co-worker and take back what's rightfully mine in the name of truth and accomplishment! If I can't truthfully say the first thing, then I should let it go and let Evil Co-Worker have it. Sadly, none of us should ever have to be looking at either of these opions (he pulls these sneak attacks on everyone). We should be able to be free to make our our sales. We're manipulated and backed into a corner so we have to make this choice and therefore fuel his need. The bottom line is - I don't need him or his crap. So let this blog be a written reminder to me to peace him out, however I need to accomplish it.

He's just a cookie and cracker.

A Daunting Task

I'm sitting here right now peeling through my entire collection of MP3s making sure I don't miss a single potential tune that could be played at our wedding. But where will this fabulous song go? Cocktail hour? Softly played during dinner? A slow dance ballad? A tune to rock out?

I'm staring at my life here. It's like trying to pick favorite children. I'm very singer-songwriter heavy as well as very Brit Pop heavy. How to balance all this with the needs of a party?!

Champagne In Heaven

Tonight I arrived home from work to a fabulous meal cooked by my fiance...tasty chicken marinated in a marsala wine served over a bed of pasta. Topped off with our favorite Panera Bread - Asiago Cheese. It was delictable. We toasted with our expensive champagne & strawberries to 1 Year in our house. One year of home loans (29 to go), home improvements, and living together. A whole year has passed - what an accomplishment. And while there has been a bounced check (or two), a squabble (or two) over finances, friends, chores, hosta plants, etc. amazingly, no one left!

But really, I'm thinking of all that right now. What was really going through my mind right then was how we need to this more - cook together, eat together, just make the time in our crazy busy schedules. The other thought? Staring at the floating strawberry in my champagne, I remembered the homily from his grandfather's funeral two weeks ago. This priest told a slew of stories - one thing I actually enjoy about a funeral service. Particularly that Dan loved his champagne. He told us he imagined there must be champagne in heaven for him. Probably the next time we have champagne will be at our wedding. I hope we remember his spirit right then too as I know he'll be with us on that special day...drinking his entire bottle of champagne in heaven :)

Speaking of -- 35 days to go!

Hola Mexico

Many have asked in the last few weeks where Vince and I will be honeymooning. We'd have loved to visit Italy or Greece, but airfare and hotel expenses would have broke the bank. And really, you want to do Europe the way you want to do it. We decided to wait.

We still wanted tropical peaceful turquoise water and fabulous beaches and culture. We considered Puerto Rico but soon discovered that this little island can be quite expensive since everything is imported. Plus, we'd be on the north Atlantic side of the island where the resorts are - no pristine turquoise waters. Nix.

Finally we reconsidered Mexico. The travel agent pointed out all the positives - our dollar would go further, the waters are clear and gorgeous, we could swim with dolphins, dine with locals at little markets, snorkel, visit the ruins. Perfect. So without further ado, I present the Aventura Spa Palace - our abode from May 7-14.

You Know Too Much

For some reason the other night, I recalled a dinner shared with old co-workers about two years ago. We were sitting around a table in a small intimate Moroccan restaurant on the Upper West Side of NYC before seeing a show at the Lincoln Center. I don't know now what we were all talking about and what it was exactly I said, but he turned to me and said very matter of factly, "You know, you can be so tough at times and at other times, so completely vulnerable." I just sat there. Stunned. To this day, I don't know what irks me more - that this person actually figured me out and whatever mystery or allure I had was gone or that this person had the balls to say it to me. Which is totally something I would do!

I still remember it. I was speechless. I don't know what I did. I bet my face turned a million shades of red. Today's Storyperson hit the nail on the head:

Know Too Much
I have to hate you, she said. You know too much about me to be trusted.

Storypeople

I am a fan of Brian Andreas' Storypeople. These are cute illustrations with little stories. The stories are all positive messages. You can visit storypeople.com and subscribe to the Story of the Day email. Some of these I know from my job and others I do not. Today's I liked:

Crossing the Line
I have too much to lose, she said, if I cross that line. Like what? I said. She could not think of anything that day so she said she'd get back to me. Since then I've been thinking what I would lose if I cross my line & I haven't come up with anything either. There's always another line somewhere.

Heaven knows how many lines I've crossed. If I'm not blatently crossing them, I'm walking them, blurring them, moving them. Pissing people off. Especially the higher ups. But like the Storyperson said - there's always another line somewhere.

Big Rocks First

I was hoping these last few weeks before the wedding would be crazy, anxious, fun, and exciting. The shower at my mom's last weekend was intense - lots of people, lots of conversations, lots of food, lots of gifts, lots of thank you cards. I couldn't believe how many friends and family showed up and celebrated the day and occasion with me. I'm attaching some photos Becca passed along to me.

On the heels of the shower, we had PreCana. For all you non-Catholics out there, PreCana is a mandatory "class" couples must attend before they are married in the Church. Church in the greater sense of the word - religion/community. The class is actually an all day affair where a bunch of engaged couples come together and listen to other married couples give a series of talks on different subjects and how they relate to marriage. We heard stories of managing friends and family (perfect considering how Mike has become the family parasite), about finances (never a fun topic), about communication (Vince is usually distracted and not listening...I will fib and/or exhagerate things - these are all barriers), about spirituality and other subjects. Nobody preached. It was merely to make sure we were openly talking about all of these issues so there would be no major surprises down the road.

So all this warm fuzziness came to a screeching halt that evening when in the middle of watching Walk the Line, Vince's cousin phones us to inform us that Grandpop D has passed away in FL. Vince's grandpop was sick...he was in his mid 80s and his health had been deteriorating over the last year or so. Last weekend he had been admitted to the hospital and was in a coma for a bit. Then he woke and appeared better, talking and all, but his organs were slowly going. Truthfully, he really didn't suffer. He wanted to be in Florida where it was warm and he was. I adored him. He was such a spunky witty old man. Typical old school South Philly Italian. He reminded me so much of my grandpop, my dad's dad. The old stories - they were so similar to my grandfather's stories.

Sigh. The Sleeper song "Miss You" was played as I fell asleep that night. Yesterday I broke down - just angry, sad, emotional. Feeling like our engagement has been nothing but one tragedy after another. His sister, his cousin - Everyone was around, alive for their weddings, to see their kids. Why couldn't that have been us? And this is supposed to be a fun, joyful time and instead we grieve. It's all out of our control, but this weekend I was supposed to have a shower with Vince's side. For obvious reasons, it's not happening. I can't help but feel robbed of this whole fun engagement time. The bad stuff has dampened my time, our time.

It's tiring and my head hurts from thinking about it all. I thought of his grandmother opening the invitation that was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. I thought of how it'd be one more person to add to the program under "In Memory Of."

I digress for now. I don't feel well. I'm having muscle spasms or something. I wonder if it's the flu?

The Wedding Nazi & the Axis of Evil

I sometimes wonder why it is people say the things they say. I have a habit of being obnoxiously truthful though I like to think in the last 10 years I've gotten a tad better with tact. It's not that much shocks me. Even if it does, I'm almost pleasantly suprised that someone else is as forthright as myself.

No, it's more about how people use words to manipulate situations. That is drastically different from being a tad too honest. Truly honest people, even the obnoxious ones, aren't really out to manipulate - that requires too much thought. The Wedding Nazi has this down to a science. I know bits and pieces about my shower. Really, I didn't want to know anything, but whatever. That's another story. What I learned today is that the party is going to be catered and that it's costing a fortune. Wedding Nazi didn't go into major detail, but the tone of her voice and hearing all about the cost was enough to make me uncomfortable. Why? Why do that? It's supposed to be a happy time for me. Now I'll go into it fully aware of how much money it cost to host this party (as if I couldn't have figured it out) and basically how that's horribly inconvenient and Wedding Nazi would rather not do it all (trust me, Wedding Nazi is not really an entertainer and only does so on occasion because she has to or won't let someone else do it).

Then there was the discussion of the receiving line. Wedding Nazi could have been on Law & Order with the dramatic performance she was giving. I really don't like receiving lines - they take too damn long, half the time you don't know the people, and having stood in them way too often, I sympathize with others' discomfort and wishful thoughts to speed the procedure along. Perhaps I'd consider the line if it's just me and Vince shaking hands. NOT the entire party and parents. It's stupid. Well the Wedding Nazi proceded to lecture me about how my grandmothers really just want to wish me congratulations and why can't I just let them and the other guests wish me congratulations? That's all they want to do...and even at the reception with us going around to tables, well, there won't be enough time and the receiving line allows everyone to say something nice and obviously I'm so selfish that I want to rush things along and don't care about what my guests think or want to share even though it's purely unselfish on their parts to wish me congratulations.

Oh Christ. I mean, is this for real? Even Second In Command was like, What the F? I'm sure hoping Second In Command asserts some leadership in the coming weeks...maybe overthrowing Wedding Nazi.

Words manipulating situations to suite the Wedding Nazi and the Axis of Evil.

On Your Own

A Verve song, though appropriate for my Philosopher King musings this evening. You come in on your own and you leave on your own, forget the lovers you loved and the friends you have known.

So why then does it matter? Why make it matter? Everyday I experience something that validates that statement. A trust is broken, a friend leaves, I move, whatever. I'm left where I started - by myself, on my own. Maybe not entirely. Physically, yes, but emotionally and mentally, didn't that person influence me? Maybe I let them, maybe I didn't even know the profound impact of that encounter. But it happened. And I'm left mulling it over in solitude, perhaps in a blog like this.

Maybe Shakespeare's words from As You Like It are accurate - All the world's a stage and the men and woman merely players. They have their exits and their entrances and one man in his lifetime plays many parts. I wonder why a situation played out the way it did...it seemes unfavorable to walk out, leave, lose a trust and connection. But I suppose to move forward, to potentially resurface and come back, to play another part, something had to break.

I stoood on the edge once and wondered how I'd move on without a friend, someone who provided comic relief as well as a vast knowledge of arts. It's so easy to always look to that one outlet. But in knowing this friend, didn't I take the positive elements of the relationship and apply them to myself? I just had to find them. Suddenly I was more than I thought I could be. Thanks dude.

I move on. I can marry the need for connections with the need to trust their positive effects on me. Those connections will come from far and wide in the forms of many players, many may be repeats. But they will come and go. I need to be OK with the comings and goings. With finding that great whatever for that moment, relishing it, and knowing in a NY minute it could be over. But for that minute, I was inspired and wrapped up in a good thing. Carry that good onward. It isn't an end really...

History Repeats

There must be a recurring theme this week: Personal History. Becca wrote about it in her blog and I've been feeling it and experiencing it on many levels this entire week. From songs that are a trip down memory lane to big ol' signs in my face - I'm remembering quite a bit about my past.

Over the last few days, I've been treated to some great celtic and jazz music on the radio reminding me of all the performances I was so lucky to hear and see while working at Baylin. It fanned the flame of missing that job.

I also heard The Verve's On Your Own yesterday (What ever happened to Rob's tape??), New Order's Temptation (Trainspotting anyone?), Oasis' Wonderwall (really, is this 1995 all over again?) and just now Pete Yorn's Strange Condition. It's amazing how songs become this soundtrack to one's life.

When I parked my car this morning I parallel parked behind this Volvo whose plates screamed Smithtown NY. My old hometown.

No matter where I go, how far I go, even how much I try to forget a person, place or thing, history is a boomerang, coming back, reminding me not just of these moments, but of myself. Who was I then? How have I changed? How have I stayed the same? And besides those things I truly have forgotten or buried, I also hear and see what I want to - looking for resolutions where I may not have had them previously.

Sometimes I wonder if history rears its head to force me to move forward, to forgive, forget the BS. To look inside myself for that trust I so desperately need. I wonder though - Am I enough for myself?

Where is Home?

It's not like me to write more than once in a 24 hour period. It's usually days, weeks, before I get around to posting something new. But this whole concept of going home has been nagging at me. To the point where I recalled my friend's wedding this past summer - Melissa and Joe's song was "Feels Like Home To Me" from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Cheesy romantic comedy, but cute tune and perfect for them. I'd been tossing things around in my head but decided I needed to download the song.

You'd think I have no roots or something...it's quite the opposite. Yes, we moved twice when I was younger, but this southeastern part of PA has been home for 20 years now. I have a big family that's local, emotional support. I lived at school for a year but then commuted because of costs. I can visit my high school or college anytime and I do. I have a sense of personal history and of being able to go home to wherever I want to call home that day.

I toyed with the idea of busting out a few years after college, escaping to NYC or someplace, but then I realized I really was having a small breakdown of sorts and anywhere was better than here and that's not a solid enough reason to just pack my bags and find some other job and move to some other state. As if everything would be OK somewhere else. The demons wouldn't find me.

Those feelings did creep in on the heels of a second layoff, right around when I was 24 and trying to redefine myself as a working professional. When the world fell flat at my feet several times and I was struggling to find my new niche, demons manifest from hidden places and made me serious doubt myself. But I didn't do anything too crazy. I stayed somewhat grounded, knew this too would pass...if the feelings lingered for very long, I would revisit them. And they did pass, having been symptoms of something else. Physically, I stayed put. Emotionally, perhaps, the last several years have me roaming, searching, wondering.

I used to daydream of days of Deck the Walls gone by...missing the craziness of working with my then friend Rob, of being respected, being an equal. And yet, I knew why I left - I needed to grow and experience new things at 22. But when the world fell flat, I did miss that home, those connections.

When I started at Skylight, I didn't trust anyone. Everyone was a corporate traitor. Gradually I trusted some co-workers. Trust. It's a bad bad thing. It slowly sucks me in and the next thing I know, I'm completely wrapped up in a person, place or thing. Attached. So when I was laid off there, I missed it, wanted to go back to where I'd finally started to feel safe and connected.

It would be a good year and some time later before I felt safe at a place again. This time it would be at Baylin. As you can read from my last entry, it started the day I interviewed - Doylestown gave me that feeling. As you can also read, it went awry. It wasn't like that in the beginning...or even the middle. It was the bitter end. The last 4-6 months.

In all of these "places" there was a moment when I knew it was over, when it no longer felt like home, when I either chose to look for another job or had to. But going back to my earlier point of emotions...the gut wrenching cries aren't ever tied to the physical places...they are tied to the people, the connections, the symbolism of a place. To the trust I had in someone that broke.

The broken trust busts up the home and the lack of resolution always leaves me searching.

Reflections on Doylestown...

So truth is - I was miss the town in a big way. It's so cheesy sounding, but I do. I figured a pair of jeans on layaway and a burning need for Coffee and Cream French Cream was reason enough to go. Plus Betty and Ed irked me over not returning a phone call?! So I split town (at least the county). Sat back and enjoyed the ride up and the ride home. Enjoyed walking down State St. It was coming on dusk and the town was near empty (unlike lunch time), evening lights turning on, sun setting looking West and the unseasonably warm air made it feel like a cool spring night.

When I interviewed with Marc many moons ago, I recall parking my car and taking it all in and thinking - this town is so cute. I can totally work here. It feels like home. After that long interview that hot July day, I strolled the streets, poked my head into a store or two and just relished in the excitement - of a great sounding job, an adorable town, nice people...HOME. What a great word, a great feeling. It's like Crowded House singing "Something so stong could carry us away..." That feeling can carry you away.

In two years time I called it home. 40 miles from home, it was still home. I became a townie. I miss being a townie.

I go through these funks every so often when I really miss being in town and at BAM. I know the whole January conference season triggered this funk...knowing I might have been at APAP or IPAY kicking ass had he just given me a chance. Then like dominos, I remember all those interviews with the candidates last spring, making conference reservations for everyone except me, how horrible it felt knowing I used to go and now I was being replaced. Being everything to being nothing. The humilation, the alienation...

A lot of people have been telling me lately what a great sales person I am. It's nice to hear...It took a while to regroup and find my sense of confidence again since I struggled for many months wondering what I was doing or not doing to not be offered this job. I busted my butt all last spring, saving dates, adding dates, creating some small tours. Won't this impress you? I'd force myself to crawl out of the sad little hole to which I'd retreat and make some pathetic effort to communicate with him, be it work or coffee. Nothing.

Now suddenly, folks are noticing some skills. Nothing over the top, but nice comments especially considering I was hired to be the Marcomm person. But it causes old feelings to resurect...All these people can't be wrong...Why couldn't he see that? WHY DIDN'T HE WANT TO BELIEVE IN ME? Don't let the bastard get you down, dude. But then what do I want? To prove him wrong? To show him? I did show him. A million times over.

I want everything and nothing. To have him miss me, miss my spirit in the office, miss that I did so much for him, miss that I was good at what I did, that I could have been great, he could have had a great sales team, to prove my abilities over and over again, to hear him say he messed up royally by not communicating with me, by humiliating and alienating me, by not spending the time with me, to mentor me, to promote me. To come groveling? Maybe. Would I take it back? I just don't know. The hurt still lingers...

I feel like such a DORK admitting this all...but sometimes I just get really sad. Nobody knows how badly I wanted things to work out, to be different. He said he just didn't know how to turn the boat around. So he knew. Even when he denied it to Jessica that there was something the matter between us. Did he actually want to turn it around? When he asked me, "Is this what you really want?" when I gave him my notice and I lied and said yes...what good would the truth have done then? It hadn't worked all along...

The Imposition

Thank god for my dear friend Kristen - she talked me off the ledge, set me straight about how to handle the latest situation in my life.

Men. And their complete lack of sensitivity. Vince's friend Mike is always here. He snuck up on me this past Saturday morning as I decended the stairs in my tee shirt, ready to put on a pot of coffee. There he was - passed out on our hideous brown sofa. I turned around and proceeded to don a pair of yoga pants before I went downstairs again.

Later that day, Vince called me from the Acme. He was picking up the food for our New Year's party. Mike (aka Dilbert) weaseled his way into our New Year's party with another couple we'd invited over - my good friend Melissa from SJU and her husband. Two friends we hadn't seen since the summer since they live in WI. Suddenly Mike was dining with us. What the F? I was bitching as I heard Vince go through the checkout. Suddenly the line went dead. Uh huh.

Now I've ranted and raved for 2 days to anyone who would listen about how Mike is always here, he imposes, overstays his welcome, and basically NEEDS TO GO. I had all sorts of super sly tricks up my sleeve to drive him away (since previous discussions with Vince yielded nothing). I even pondered, seriously, if Mike was gay and secretly in love with my fiance??

Thankfully Kristen pointed out a similar situation she'd encountered with her now fiance. My sly menouvers, while funny, would probably backfire. The route of all this is Vince, enabling his friend to not have a life and depend on him way too much. Or vice versa. Best to smack Vince.

Which is what I just did. I was pretty calm. We realized Vince does enable Mike to hang here way too often and part of it is him being a computer geek and needing/wanting his other computer geek friends to be around. Part of it is Mike enabling Vince to sit around all Saturday and play stupid games. So now we have this deal - I am going to tell Vince when Mike needs to skate, no beating around the bush. Vince is going to try to be more sensative to the whole hanging out all the time issue with his friend. We'll both try to do more together things (sans Mike).

You know? This is great and all, but this blog would have rocked had it been my original rant. It was actually way more me. Chalk one up to communication.

The Holiday Party

I prepare for a small gathering. Months went by and with wedding plans, ill members of the family, house projects, the time was never quite right. I finally decided to just do it. For two weeks I've been spanking my house into shape, painting window moulding, touching up areas, washing curtains, you name it. The more I do, the more I find to do. The more things seem like they will never look put together. I suppose it's always a work in progress.

I discovered a great place in Old City - Fosters Urban Homeware, right on 3rd St. Many moons ago I was in there and while some things are quite mod and plastic, some things, like the fabulous Wallbands, have resurrected the whole wallpaper/border idea. I cannot wait to paint the living room and go to town with these wallbands - vertical and horizontal. How fun.

Speaking of furnishing places, I've come to the conclusion that bridal registries are no fun. We all think they are - Yay, pick out all the great stuff I want and everyone buys it for me! No. First off, as cool as that bar code toy looks, it's excitement wears off very quickly when you wonder around Macy's and scan 10 things and realize you must scan about 150 more things and the departments don't have what you want anyway. So then you resort to online shopping which is much easier, but alas, the online stores don't carry absolutely everything either. In fact, I feel like the online stores, while convenient (I have added to my list at 11pm), have the tiniest selection. And who wants to choose between Ralph Lauren sheets and Donna Karan? Not me. Or why do they only carry 3 desk frames? That are all brushed stainless steel? By Kate Spade for $100 for a 5x7?

Just give me nice Egyptian cotton sheets and a quality black wood frame, please. And no designers.

Finally, you realize that as much as you love that copper bottom 10 piece cookware, it's $700. And even the 7 piece stainless set is $400. No one in this family has that kind of money to drop on a shower gift for me. And then come back to a wedding and bring another gift. So in reality, a bridal registry is nothing more than managing the needs and price points of department stores and people. Something like registering becomes a business.

In spite of all the managing I've been doing lately, I found time about 6 weeks ago to fix up the yard. Rather, my friend Jocelyn was in town for our friend's wedding and she and Vince got all dirty in the soil, pulled weeds and mulched. I went to Home Depot and purchased the 15 bags of mulch. Here are some photos of our yard with the fabulous mums that have since died with our first frost and first snow.

SLAMMED

I'm getting slammed for not updating...Errr. But the title is metaphoric for it's how I've been feeling for the last several weeks. I'm getting slammed with wedding plans. My dress came in and I tried it on and picked out a head piece and all this jewelry last weekend. But then I left my parents house with a mile long list of "To Dos" including scheduling PreCana, determining the priest, talking to the hotel about a block booking rate, and many other items.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, Vince and I squabble probably once a week over wedding plans - many of which were made months ago and either he forgot or he wasn't involved in because of everything going on with his mom. Either way, I'm yelled at over something he doesn't like or isn't comfortable with. Case in point - I'd like my friend Jill to sing at the wedding ceremony. Vince stood up and with a very red face said there was no way there would be a Mass and he never agreed to that and blah blah blah. He nearly stormed the 'rents house to tell them he wasn't putting up with that. We're only getting married in the church. I mean, I guess if you know nothing about it, you'd assume no Mass? I don't know.

It's a battle not worth fighting. Especially since I really wanted the ceremony there. Singers and all.

So I'm slammed on that front. I'm also getting slammed at work. I'm so talented, and know so much about marketing products and creating plans and all these great things...and there have been some small successes, but I'm not receiving any ackowledgement for them. In fact, it's the opposite. I'm getting scolded over things at least once a day and none of it makes sense. I was hired to be the marketing manager. In my JD it lays out that I am to create a marketing plan, a SWOT anyalsis, work on maintaining positive customer retention. Weeks ago, I approached my boss about this - how it hadn't been started, I needed to do it, needed her input. Nothing. So instead for the last 4 weeks I've been bogged down with advertising. Two weeks before that I was working with customers to nail down $20,000 in sales for October. The result? I'm told how advertising isn't marketing (um, it's a component), how my boss isn't pleased with the ads (but she has to sign off on them, so she sees them), how my most recent poster for the window was bad (again, something she saw before it went to the printer) and how I hadn't given enough attention to this big event we're having this weekend (Um, I asked my boss on 3 occasions what was going on with the show - how it was managed in the past, what was done, what merchadise was ordered, where the images were...Nothing. And again, the advertising and the sales that have been taking up my time).

But mind you, there are appointments made, people coming, listings and ads on gophila.com and other places and people have said they've seen the ads...

I'm so frustrated. I communicate with her and nothing comes back. I ask for info and nothing. I chase her down and that eats my time and I do the best I can for only being there 3 months and I'm getting put downs left and right. All from a person who knows she doesn't know how to do my job, but sure spends a lot of time micromanaging me and telling me I'm not marketing. So really, my marketing position is being redefined as New Business Developement.

Marc was a pain in my butt, but I could at least scream at him. And Marc wouldn't communicate the whys, but he sure would tell you what he thought. And in a timely manner. That is unless he was emotionally involved and it was personal. Like it usually was with me.

So yes, I'm slammed on every front. Not sure what will work out, if anything will work out, where I am supposed to be.