StacyCelia.com

It was one of the best weekends ever. I didn’t want to leave Cleveland. Yes, Oster. I said it. I DIDN’T WANT TO LEAVE CLEVELAND. Grr.

It began with a car ride home with Ashley. She is such an amazing person. Although we went to high school together for years, I never knew her then, the way that I do today. Maybe it’s because we’re both on the same page today. We both have journeyed into our newly confident skin, despite how difficult it can be to wear it sometimes. She is a friend who insists and reminds me constantly that who I am is who I should always be. And so, the ride flew by. We talked about life and death; we both cried. And then laughed. SO hard. I couldn’t believe it. Seriously. We were trying to recall Michael Walter’s old street and neither of us could remember “Letchworth.” Until she did, and even then I needed to pass the sign for it to feel right. Adam and I walked into my mom’s house by 12:30 AM.

My mom and I went to seven places on Saturday. Each one was amazing for a reason unique to the one before. When I walked into a bridal suite at the second venue, I started crying. I don’t know what came over me. Yes I do. I take that back. I think it derived from the fact that in Chicago, while I have a dozen girlfriends that I see, talk to and love, they are not friends with each other. I often long for the days when I had a close group of friends (like in high school or overnight camp).  While I wouldn’t change a thing in the world, I have got to admit that I frequently wish I had that here. Life changes when you’re living with your new best friend who you happen to be in love with.  For me it did anyway. Not so much for Jason. But then again, he grew up here and his friends remain in the city. Anyway, when I walked into this bridal room, I realized that potentially, in this room, my best friends in the world and I will celebrate the best day of my life. To be surrounded by women who have shaped my life so dramatically, comforting me, making me laugh, etc., is to be sent into my new life with a whole lot of love. See? Do you see how disgustingly cheesy I am? It’s unreal. My mom and I held hands a couple times on Saturday. At one point, even she cried.

When I walked into a ceremonial room that was set up for a wedding that night, my heart started POUNDING. I was shocked. I immediately felt super nervous. Excited, but also like holy (^*%!!! It was surreal and so exciting. Equally.

So I found a place and a date. September 13, 2009. IT’S SO SOON!!! The same weekend we got engaged, I think…

That night, my mom and I met my father at Maggianos. Best dinner. Best parents. My dad made both my mother and me cry of laughter - no joke. I cannot remember laughing that hard in, literally, years. The back-story is that my father is ADDICTED to gum. Some sort of gum that, like a “gusher,” gushes vanilla mint. Yes, it’s great gum, but he has a problem (he claims that it changed his life)! Not only is he a horrible chomper, but he also chews it all day long. According to my sister Meredith, he also SLEEPS with it in his mouth. DANGEROUS! Every time that I’m with him, I beg him to stop chomping. My mother does too. He is ALWAYS chewing it. In any picture of him from the past six months, you can see the white glob in his smile. It kind of takes away from family photos taken recently. Completely disqualifies them from being “framers.”

After a lovely dinner where I recapped the entire day for my dad, my mother asked him for a piece of gum. No problem. He took out a slice of gum and pushed it across the table.

“What’s this?” my mom asked.

“That’s your gum.”

“I don’t want that gum, I want the kind you have.”

As it turns out, my father has his gum in one pocket and generic gum in the other. His habit costs 30+ dollars a week and he can’t afford to give it out after all the requests he gets.

“See? Don’t tell me that this isn’t amazing gum. It has changed my life,” he said while pulling Chiclets directly out of his pocket. Later that night I saw his stash in his trunk. Packs and packs of both kinds. Enough to feed his addiction and put the critics in their place.

I woke up Sunday morning and headed back to finally see Jason and go to that mock dinner. (La Shana Tova, everyone. Happy and Healthy!) Dinner with my future family was wonderful. Very festive and happy. I was thrilled to have Katie there and so excited to see Jenna and Joe who I miss very much (Jason’s cousin and his fiancé who moved to DC this year). At the end of the night, we started talking about gym class and different games and balls. Nerf balls. Soccer Balls. About 7 minutes worth of talking about balls.

Anyhow, back to the grind. I’m so happy. So not stressed. So thinking colors and dresses. 

And so holding my breathe for the playoffs. Go Cubs Go!

I’m on the road after work today and heading to Cleveland (woo-hoo!). Tomorrow I am searching for the perfect venue to have our wedding held at. Jason will be landing just as I enter Ohio. I wonder if he misses me. Tomorrow my mom and I will be looking at several places. Six to be exact. Hopefully Jason and I will be able to regroup Sunday and pick a place/date for us to tie the knot. What does that mean “tie the knot?” That we’re tied to each other? That would only make sense if it were to strings tied. But THE knot site makes it only look like one. Hmm…

I got my upcoming vacation days approved. Can’t wait for NY and Vegas. I am looking forward to it all, especially dinner with Meredith, Michael, Lindsay and their cousins.

This Sunday night we’re having a mock Rosh Hashanah dinner while Jason’s cousins are still in town. Katie will come too (she’s one of my closest friends and my sister in Chicago - mine lives in NY and I never get to see her). This means that I will have to get in the car to drive back in the morning.

This also means that this is the end of Adam’s trip. My mom has finally admitted to missing him. I guess that trumps my need for him. Ugh. I really do miss him already.

Mallori and I had a sleepover last night. My coworker and friend came over, we cooked spaghetti squash (seriously, try it), watched the Office and passed out.

All over the place, totally random and totally dizzy. Bye bye Adam.

Ps - BREAKING NEWS - MCCAIN is going to the debate…shocker. WOW, could you BE any more political about politics?!

In a world where you’re lucky to sneak by without having cancer or watching someone you love suffer from disease, it is imperative that each day is spent with those you love most. Sometimes my world feels overwhelming, sucking me in with each imperfection and struggle that I face. It is easy to feel bitter and resentful. Sometimes I feel sad for what I don’t have, failing to recognize all that I do. I am surrounded by love in a world that’s more beautiful than it is dangerous. Today, I chose to take off my shallow blindfolds that exert energy into all the wrong places, keeping me from enjoying the life I have been blessed with - one that’s simple and full of pure love. Today I chose to be grateful.

There is a rumor going around the political blogosphere that insists that Biden is stepping down due to “health reasons” and that Obama is appointing Clinton. Please send me any information you have…

I woke up at 5:05 for a training this morning. Against my will. Adam’s too. He was begging me to take him out, but it seemed impossible. By the time I would travel up and down 17 flights of stairs, I would be late to meet Erin. I asked him to cross his paws and wait an hour. He stuck his tongue out at me and got back into bed.

As I pulled out of the garage, I suddenly remembered that the gas light was on. Crap. Before Jason left town, he must have reminded me twelve times to fill up. Which reminds me, I MUST WATER THE PLANTS TODAY. So, I headed out to the BP around the block. And then I realized, F, I forgot my wallet. Nice one, Stacy. F!!! Clock ticking. I rolled out of the gas station on neutral and back into the circular drive at my building. I ran upstairs (after signing a form that my car would be in the driveway for less than a second!), ignored my puppy’s desperate cries for urination freedom and headed back down. I went back to the gas station and began to pump the crap out of my debit card. But it didn’t work. They needed my five digit zip code…why? As I messed with the old pumping station, I looked up and saw a HD television. Whaaat? A little 13 inch television connected to this old gas pump. I finally completed the process and headed to the gym.

Can you even imagine how exhausted I was by 6AM?

And by the way, the previous post is so true. If I were Hispanic (and sometimes I wish that I could be, or Latina) I would be livid.

Also, Adam successfully waited for me. He’s the best. I can’t believe he’s staying with us forever.

The Toronto Blue Jays play with American Teams. Wonderful. I love a Canadian just as much as the next. I believe Montreal once had a team as well. So this is pretty much the North American MLB, right? Wrong. What about Mexico? I find it hard to believe that they don’t want in. Aren’t some of the best players Hispanic? Why can’t they play in their country? Are we prejudice to Mexico? And at what point does a child born from Hispanic parents stop identifying as Hispanic. One generation? Two? And do parents encourage or discourage this new identity? Do you think there are people who hate the MLB because of its exclusion to their country. Why is Canada good enough but Mexico isn’t? I’m so confused right now. Oh and why are sports’ championships called the World Series or the World Cup or the World Championship? How arrogant are we? The US is not the world, it’s a country, people. If it were the world championships, it would be called the Olympics. Duh. I’ve been meaning to ask that for about 20 years. How sick is it that I’m old enough to have a twenty year old question lingering. I’m so old. 

If Obama stood up for Mexican teams entering into the MLB next season, imagine what it would do for his Hispanic vote. Genius. I’ll let him know. I met him you know. Yep, Fox News, 2006. Obama, me and a night we won’t soon forget.

I should be sleeping by now, but instead I ponder baseball. BASEBALL!? Really? What has happened to me?

PS - As I write this, my mind is reading it in an accent. I don’t know why. Eh? or A? Whatever the people up north say…

I bought Adam a stuffed Pumpkin that squeeks when he chews it. It’s no longer stuffed.

I’m exhausted after seeing Jason off this morning. I’m COMPLETELY dragging. I wish I had been in NYC this weekend. Thanks for the video, Laurel and Michelle! I can’t wait to come in October. I’m going for a bach party, but I will also get to have sleepovers with some of my favorite women in the world. I extended my weekend trip after finding out that I had seven unused vacation days. Niiiiceeee.

Aside from that, I feel pretty bland today and uninspired. I am listening to Bob Dylan on my ipod right now and even that leaves me boring. I just found a note from Jason. Makes my night.

I don’t know what’s up with that. In any event, have a good rest of the night…

Oh and watch the clip below until at least 1:45…do you think Jason will go for it?

 

SB

Jason is leaving on a business trip at 4:30 AM tomorrow morning. He doesn’t get back home until Friday. Friday I’m leaving for Cleveland to nail down a date and venue, which means, I won’t see Jason for an entire week. Boo. We had a nice weekend together, so all is well in the world.

Friday night we met some friends at a bar in our neighborhood. Oster came over after while Adam entertained us all. I spent Saturday on Lake Michigan with Adam. Afterwards, we watched the Cubs with Jason and a friend. They clinched their spot in the playoffs. It makes me nervous. Jason loves the Cubs more than anyone I know loves the Buckeyes. I’m serious. He loves them deeply; not because it’s cool (because it’s so not; they continually break hearts) and not because he likes getting drunk in the bleachers (not that there’s anything wrong with that). He loves the Cubs because him and his father are freaks. Absolutely obsessed. I get it, I get it. It just sucks to be a Cubs fan or engaged to one. When we met, I didn’t know that Jason had a temper…and then baseball season came around. Pinella. I am falling in love with Lou. He seems to really be an effective coach. Or manager. Or whatever they’re called. I can see into Wrigley Field from the living room. It’s great,  though when the fans cheer, it’s so loud that the delayed television loses its storytelling ability.

I think two teams should slap hands at the end of the game like we used to in little league. It’s such a nice thing. Although I cannot picture Big Z doing it after a loss that fell on his watch. I love that big Zebra.

Last night Ashley and I cooked and did some other private stuff. Not sexual. I once wanted to like women, but it didn’t work out - I was only attracted to men. At the time, I hated men, which left women. So instead, I was asexual for a bit. I remember really trying to convince myself. Never, ever worked.

Today I had lunch with my second favorite woman, next to my mom. Susan, my mom’s bf and Katie’s mom, is in town. Grand Lux, the usual. And now I’m off to make salmon and veggies for dinner.

Until tomorrow…

Last night Jamie and I brought in Wildfire and did “coffee talk” minus the coffee plus the wedding. We did Wedding Talk. Bridesmaids, flowers, dresses, Oh My!

When I got engaged I was a big fat piece of cheese. All lovey dovey and big eyed - distracted by nobody and focused on my man and me. Nothing else mattered about the wedding. “I don’t care, as long as Jason shows up.” And merely a couple weeks into planning, I’ve become melted cheese in the microwave. Cheddar actually and overcooked. I’m like that cheese that pops and messes up the microwave. I’m all over the place; a little unfocused, losing sight of what matters most - that I’m literally marrying someone who is more than I ever hoped for.

Fat free cheese doesn’t microwave well. It stays pretty solid and tough. If I transform into fat free starting today, solid, focused, on target with my food and wedding diet, maybe I won’t melt like greasy cheese and lose sight of everything else. When I diet well, my mind is sound. Funny how that works. I don’t want to be melted cheese. Certainly not swiss. I don’t want holes in my soul. What in the world!?

I started a new medication. I’m fine. I’m not happy, but I will live. I really want this medication to sink into my blood and make an impact. My question is this: if I take all four pills at one time, will they create a higher concentration in my blood stream? If I swallow them with my other pills, will it take away the effectiveness?

I’m going to Vegas pretty soon! My dad is taking my family. We’re very excited. We’re seeing Love (have any of you seen it? Please answer. I know there are 700+ people reading this, yet I have no clue who you are!). I am so excited. When my parents came in for the engagement, we all went to the casino in Indiana. My mom, dad, Jason and I had a Video Poker contest. Poker? I don’t even know her. My dad gave us each money and the one who had money left last wins. I won. Of course just as my mom was on a huge roll, my dad was ready to go. Divorced, yet so much sexual tension. Totally kidding.

Kind of.

Jason thinks that my brother and he should take shifts watching me in Vegas. He thinks I could potentially be addicted to gambling, if I were around it enough. I don’t think he’s wrong. I love highs and I hate lows. When I’m down, I’ll either sulk in my misery and make the situation worse, or do anything in desperation to get back the high.

Time is money. I gotta run. Gotta go make some. Jason says the honeymoon will cost another ring. Well bling, bling baby, I’m ready to go.

There is absolutely no difference between 75 degrees in September and 75 degrees in August. Is there? Jason insists that there is. A thermometer doesn’t take into account the month and/or further examine the temperature by acknowledging how cold it should or could be potentially. This has been a debate for the last couple days. Is he messing with me? I know I’m marrying a smart man…Jason couldn’t possibly believe this!?

Could he?

I used the word baller in everyday conversation this morning to my friend Allison. “I heard you’re moving into a baller apartment,” I said. It just didn’t sit right. I can’t pull that off. Who do I think I am? Some sick girl? See, even through writing it sounds like I need to go to get a check up. Every time I try and use tight, sick, baller, etc., Jason just looks down and nods. Not so much.

Last night I dreamt that I was in some play. I was double-casted with a chick from high school who I really should stop resenting this decade…how pathetic that I have a touch of bitterness still lingering. (But seriously, why would she date him? She knew I liked him and we had only broken up 6 months earlier. And if she had to date him, why couldn’t she be the one to tell me? Ugh.)

It was my night to perform. I failed to study my lines, though after the first scene (a monologue where I distinctly remember having to pretend to be appealing and sexy), I felt confident. I walked off stage and someone (who though?) told me that I sucked canal water. My double said she would take over from here. Of course she would; that’s what she does best. The person who thought that I sucked proceeded to punch me!

My boss at work in present day and director in my dream, let’s call her Ruby, could not comprehend that that someone would become violent with me. I pulled out a small tape recorder and asked her if she was shocked that there was violence on the set? She said no. I said, “ah ha! I’m leaving. My attorneys will be in contact with you. I am going to sue your ass.” I was talking to the bully. For anyone who knows me, you know I hate lawyers (my entire family excluded, of course.)

WTF was that about!?

I used to keep a journal about my dreams, that’s how insane they were nearly nightly. I should find that dream journal. I think it’s still in Beachwood.