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The weather is insanely perfect right now. Sun shining and clear skies, not too hot, with a breeze that brings the smell of aromatic foliage in the office parks all around. It actually has my mood improved so much that I am posting this song - also this is for Dr Soon-to-be-my-Wife:
Amerie - One Thing (siik remix) by iamdonald
thanks Iamdonald
It's finally sunny after about 10 days of straight rain. On the drive down to work today my eyes were confused by all the unfamiliar light shining through the driver's side windows. I am not one predisposed to seasonal affective disorder (S.A.D.?) but I can certainly see how it can come about. Still it seems that spring is in the air and soccer is on the brain and the future is looking brighter than the 880 at 7 in the morning.
Just watched The Lovely Bones last night with Dr My-Fiancee (aka Dr Soon to be my Wife). It was in many respects the worst movie to watch at night with the woman you are planning on having children with some day. Some of those respects? Allow me to enumerate:
So I am aware of myself gritting my teeth and scowling throughout the movie (which is a good sign because I think it means I am not a socio/psychopath who gets off on this sort of thing), and realizing that I have to go to bed when this is done. It's not looking good, and so after the movie ended I had to sit in the living room and read for a bit to calm down (The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time (Paperback) in case you're interested - it's quite good I think. I have a review up on GoodReads.com - again, if you're interested).
This extra time meant I could give a good think to the movie or at least let it sink in and make a deeper impression.It's quite a suspenseful movie, really, and I found that even though I knew what was coming, my heart was racing and I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. I - quickly - felt a great empathy for the main character and her family (which is weird because according to Dr Soon to be My Wife, I have "trouble empathizing with women"), and was wrapped up in the simple events of her life to an extent that startled me (stand down with those "you've always behaved like a little girl, Lo Fat Mo" jokes. We've heard them all before). It was a bit overly lyrical with the afterlife imagery in oversaturated hues, but having said that it did a much better job than What Dreams May Come which made the afterlife seem like series of video game levels. That may have had something to do with the creators of the latter film being influenced by Dante (not in and of itself a bad thing) whereas I think that the creators of the former were letting their fancy fly free (boy that sounded poncy, but I really don't think that Alice Sebold's original novel was so big on the oversaturated colors and soprano warbling [which, for the record, I liked]). The bonds between friends and family, siblings, parents were very believable, which made the breakdown [spoiler alert!] of the parents' relationship in the wake of their daughter's murder that much more poignant. Even now I can feel my chest tighten up, watching the father sitting on the floor of a ruined study crying the hot tears that men weep when they come face to face with their inability to protect their own. Powerful stuff... I pray that I never have to deal with it myself.
Man, this has gotten long and it starting to ramble, so I'll cut it off here. I'd be curious to hear what other people thought of this film, though.
So my soon to be life partner, Dr Germ (or as she is now known, Dr My Fiancee), blogged about the events on her own and I thought you folks might want to see how the other side lives (lived (meaning what she experienced, not that she's dead (because that wouldn't be cool, seriously))). Names have been changed to protect the innocent, guilty and everyone else because that's how I roll. Without further ado ...
I'm doing it! I'm actually sitting down and writing on the blog! Three cheers for effective time management!
Let's start at the beginning, shall we? (Warning. I'm telling the long version of the story to pretend that we're actually sitting around talking to each other. Go grab a cup of tea and get comfy.)
The Proposal:
[Lo Fat Mo] had been hinting at said proposal for a few months, so let's just say I wasn't shocked when it happened. Actually, that might be a bit of a fib. Because I remember when it happened I felt simultaneously out of my own body/embarrassed/excited/disbelieving/cold/weirded out...so I guess I was a bit shocked.
I digress.
It all really started a few months ago when we booked our tickets to go to Sudan. We kind of bought them on the spur of the moment right before Christmas thanks to a super duper airfare sale. We plonked down our credit cards, and then sat back on the couch in a mutual state of shock. I believe my exact words were "Well, we're not fucking around anymore." Too true, [Dr Germ]. Too true. As Mo had mentioned many a time, you don't just "take a girl home" when you're Sudanese. You only "take a girl home" when you're planning on marrying her.
Thus why we were both shell-shocked once those Sudanese tickets were purchased.
Fast forward about 4 weeks. "What are we going to tell people when we're there?" I asked one night after I had finished asking my 1,976th question about what I should wear in the Sudan.
"We'll tell them we're engaged," he said.
"But we're not," I said.
"[Dr Germ]," he said, "If you keep asking questions you're going to ruin a very big surprise for yourself."
Well shit. I had just ruined the very big surprise for myself. So, I slapped him on the leg and told him to shut up because I'm really good about figuring out surprises and I like surprises, so he shouldn't give me any more information. I was excited. And felt like throwing up a little bit.
Fast forward another 2 weeks. I'm trying to drive home from the city. A truck turns over on the Bay Bridge and spills sand over four lanes. Traffic is at a stand still. I sit at the same traffic light in downtown San Francisco - not moving - for approximately 30 mins. I call [Lo Fat Mo] to inform him that traffic is a clustercuss and he should just meet me in the city for dinner. He does. We have two cocktails on empty stomachs and then realize that that night was technically 5 years since the day we met at a random Google party. We start to get sappy on account of the cocktails in our tummies and the newly realized anniversary. He leans in towards me, lowers his voice, then half whispers/half slurs, "[Dr Germ]. We have a serious relationship, but it's about to get real serious." That's right. Real serious. Cue another slap on the leg and another speech about how he has to stop with all the hints already.
Fast forward another week. Mo sends me a google calendar request asking that I block off 6pm-9pm on Sunday night, February 13th. I accept said calendar request and make a mental note that he will propose that night. I go along with my week, slightly freaking out, but mostly feeling excited while watching him like a hawk and making sure he's really the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with. I determine that yes, he is. But he still drives me crazy sometimes. From extensive polling of girlfriends, I determine that being driven crazy by one's partner is normal.
It's Saturday. Day before the proposal. We are about to go to a 1-year-old's birthday party. We're about to leave and Mo gets a call from work. He steps out of the room and I can her him saying "Um...I don't know....that's going to be really difficult. Um, ok, i'll try." He comes back into the room and says that there's a mess at work and he has to go in. Normally, this would be ok. (Who am i kidding - this would never be ok because it's Saturday and people shouldn't have to work on Saturday. Sometimes i like to pretend that i'm more understanding than I am). Back story: Mo has a long-standing track record with the 1-year-old's parents. He is always busy when we're invited to their house. Genuinely busy. Or out of town. Horrible coincidence, but it has made the 1-year-old's parent's think that Mo doesn't like them. (Only partially true.) So, I tell him that work is not acceptable and he has to come to the birthday party. (Understanding, no?)
"What do you have to do?" I ask.
"Take a measurement," he says.
"You're telling me that there is no one else in your entire firm who knows how to take that measurement? What kind of measurement is it? I'm a scientist. I can understand. Just explain it to me, and then we can call someone else who's already working and explain it to them so they can take the measurement."
"I have to take the measurement," he eventually says when I let him get a word in. "I own the measurement. It's my responsibility."
Spoiler alert: He did not have to go to work. He had to meet the jeweler to get the ring.
We agree that he'll come to the party, come in, say hi, go to work and then come back. While we're in the car driving to the 1-year-old's birthday party, he gets a call. Mo has one of those fancy, new-fangled cars that connect to his phone, so when he gets a call, it goes through the car so everyone can hear. He answers the call and says, "Hello. This is [Lo Fat Mo] and you're on speaker phone."
"Hello," the person says in a weird, lilty way. "Are you coming in to work today?"
"Yes. I am," Mo says.
"Ok," the caller says. "Thank you." (I detect a note of sarcasm in the caller's voice and get irritated.)
"You're welcome. Thank you." [Lo Fat Mo] says and hangs up.
"Was that someone from your work being a smart ass? Because you're coming in on a Saturday, so there should be no smart assy-ness," I say.
"He wasn't being a smart ass," Mo says.
"Ok."
"Ok."
Spoiler alert: It was not someone from Mo's work on the phone. It was the jeweler.
We arrive at the party. Mo comes in, says hi, schmoozes, excuses himself to go to work, comes back about 45 mins later, schmoozes some more. I decide I've had enough of the 1-year-old's birthday party by about 5ish. "Great, let's go home," he says.
As we're driving home, I put my hand on Mo's thigh. He quickly grabs my hand and says "can we just hold hands? It's nice to hold hands once in a while."
Spoiler alert: The ring was in his pocket, and he was terrified I was going to feel it. Thus the holding hands decoy.
We get near home. Instead of taking our usual turn, he takes the opposite turn and starts driving up into the Berkeley hills. "Where are we going?" I ask. "It's just so pretty tonight, I thought we'd go look at the sunset," he replies.
Spoiler alert: We weren't going to just look at the sunset.
Lovely idea, I thought. (I had NO idea anything was awry. Turns out I'm not so good at sniffing out surprises, after all.)
We arrive at a look out point. The sunset is gorgeous. We're looking out over the Bay. San Francisco. Berkeley. Oakland. Lovely. He has his arms around me and we talk for a few minutes. He's being sweet and saying things like he loves me. (STILL not thinking anything about anything.) Then I get cold, and I pull away for a second to put on my jacket. When I look up, I realize he's standing in front of me in weird and slightly formal way. (STILL no idea. But why does he look so weird?)
He says something like, "I have a question to ask you and I think you know what it is."
Then I get it. My heart starts pounding. I freak out. But try not to look like I'm freaking out. I look around. There are people around. I'm embarrassed! Why am I embarrassed?! This is really sweet! Don't be a bitch, [Dr Germ]! Enjoy it! This is weird! This isn't supposed to be happening now! This is supposed to be happening tomorrow night! Oh my god! This is crazy! I'm not old enough to get married! Must stop looking like I'm freaking out! I manage to squeak out some sort of response like "I think I do," and then he continues..."I brought you here so we could look out over the place that brought us together," and "I would be honored if you would spend your life with me," and "If you say yes, then you can have this ring."
Then he pulls the ring out of his pocket. At which point, I start solely focusing on the ring and forgot ENTIRELY to answer his question, because I start asking my own: "Where did you get this ring?!" It looked (looks) like a gorgeous art deco ring I'd seen in an estate jewelry shop months ago, but slightly different. He explained that he had it made based on the ring I loved. It's huge and sparkly and I suddenly realize that I'm basically a giant magpie and just like sparkly things.
Eventually, I remember that he just asked me a very important question and I still haven't answered it, so I say "Of course, yes!" and gave him a hug. Such a weird (but lovely) moment.
Then we awkwardly get back into the car. He's shaking. I'm shaking. Turns out, after a marriage proposal is extended and accepted, there's not much else to say. Or maybe that's just us. We drive home. I keep asking if he's ok. He keeps asking if I'm ok. Yup. Yup. Oky doky then. When we get home, we sit on the couch - awkwardly again - and try to decide what to do. "Should we get trashed?" I ask.
"I don't think so," he says. "Should we watch TV?"
"I don't think so," I say.
At that point, that we realized we couldn't be trusted to be by ourselves, so we got back in the car, headed over to [The House of Pones], announced the good news, then proceeded to drink wine. That made us both feel better.
Then we left for Sudan 3 days later.
When I was a kid summer vacation lasted forever. The days were long tracts of empty time filled with television, reading and copious amounts of small plastic figurines. I remember thinking when school rolled around, "wow, that went quick!".
Now, I am on the wrong side of my mid thirties (but not regretting it) and all I can see is how fast time goes. Every interminably long work day is over in the time it takes to stare at a spreadsheet, weeks are over faster than that, and years are slipping away faster than I remember they did. There was a time when - even in the huge rush that I was in - I felt like I had a lot waiting for me, a lot ahead of me. Now? Well, now I feel like I am on the return trip, which is always faster than the trip out.
I'm sure I'm overreacting, and this can be put down to the fact that I am going to be married in the next year at least in part, which seems to fill every day between today and "the Big Day" with events. But maybe it's not all just in my head. Does anyone else feel the time rushing past?
It's been a while and of course a lot has been going on especially in the wake of my engagement. I went to the Sudan with the fiancee to introduce her to the family and to show her "who I was" in a manner of speaking. (Maybe more on that later as there are some reflections on the trip, as short as it was, that I want to jot down here.) My finacee's folks were in town and there was the usual dealing with the fallout of having parents around, during which I tried to keep a cool head. There was a phone call with my good friend the Gee Nome, and his mentioning that my last serious girlfriend prior to Dr Germ was both married and had a kid and had been that way for 5 years or so. I tried to hold it together there as well. I saw a face from the Dark Ages on the BART yesterday as well, which lead to an awkward hurrying onto a train. Finally I discovered that I may have lost a USB key containing a lot of sensitive information, at the same time as discovering how much money was languishing in a FSA account for commuter benefits that will now likely just revert to the federal govt (you're welcome).
It's becoming harder and harder to keep cool, which feels even worse since I gave a long speech about how "adult life is all about keeping your cool because nothing ever goes smoothly so just learn to relax" yesterday. Feeling like a bit of a chump. Worse, a chump with anger/anxiety issues.