StacyCelia.com

I went out for my friend’s 27th birthday tonight. Jason drove us to Mystic Celt in the pouring rain. I was looking forward to it and having a great time until my stomach turned itself inside out.

Within an hour I had to call Jason to pick me up. What is an ulcer and is it possible that I have one? Ashley’s friend said that an ulcer is from stress. I had lunch with my friends Mal and Ranita who still work for my former employer today. The conversation did stress me out a bit (though it was amazing to finally see Mal). Plus, my sleeping has been really off lately and while I don’t think I’m stressed, Oprah’s investigation of the impact of the recession on the middle class really freaked me out. One place I never want to move is “Tent City.” Anyway, I’m home now and medicated. I’m hoping to feel better in the morning. Sorry Ashley. I hope you had a great one.

PS - My father started a blog. Upfromdysfunction.com.

Feeling sad tonight - I miss my parents. I wouldn’t move back to Cleveland because I do love Chicago, but I often think about how much my children will miss their grandparents (and how much they will miss them). Jason promises that we can take a million trips when that day comes. I’m going to hold him to it - it’s so unfair that his parents and family are here, but hey, this is what I signed up for. And honestly, I wouldn’t change it.

Growing up, we went to NJ (where my mom’s parents were) every chance that we got. My children will just have to say the same about going to Ohio (rocks). Yeah Lebron.

Save the Dates went out to some people. I’m so thrilled about the overwhelming response of people who say that they will be traveling to share the day and weekend with us.

We’re having some issues with the honeymoon. Because we’re getting married in September (also Hurricane season), it may not be the best idea to go to Cabo where I reallllllllllllly want to go. It limits us and big time. The travel agent sent a Hawaii proposal (two islands, two weeks), but it’s not what I want. There’s no way we’re heading to Europe because I know Jason…he’ll have us up at eight AM to go see the world (and why shouldn’t we if we’re in Europe?). I want our honeymoon to be luxurious. I want to be served cold drinks, by the pool, by private staff who calls me by my new name. I just do. I want romance, poolside service, spas, and lots of “alone time.” I don’t want to be exhausted by the long day in Athens (I should only be so lucky).

Anyway, Obama spoke well tonight. Still trusting him.

I’m random tonight. Goodnight. Sleep well.

PS - Why are really old “friends” all suddenly friending me on FB? And all at one time? I’m glad they are to an extent, I mean, my animosity towards them is way in the past, but still. Sometimes I wonder what their intention is when they friend me yet never say, “hey what’s up?” Two of them did and I like that. It’s refreshing. The others though, did they just want to see my pics and cyber stalk me? Am I that interesting or did they just never realize the profound impact their inaction had on me years ago? Wouldn’t that be something.

PPS - Jason just said he feels that his weeks are too routine. I understand that, but the man sort of makes it that way. His medication is on the counter before he goes to bed so that he remembers to take it the following morning, his work-out clothes for the following day are laid out before dinner (I think) and his lunch is made for the next day before the night even begins. I suggested that he sleep at the foot of the bed tonight to really shake things up. He said that on the weekend he will. For the record, his routine is what drives me most crazy, but is also what keeps me most sane. I wouldn’t change it. Well, maybe a touch :).

PPPS - Sorry I didn’t write for a week. I was in Jason la-la land and didn’t think I should wrote about how in love I am. You guys already know it. Rest assured that I’m grounded again. Still in love, but back to the unemployed reality. Weekends are just too darn good. (more…)

One of my closest friends recently ended things with a seemingly nice guy because he was missing something. She describes this missing element as an “edge.” She is not the first friend who longs for this and will certainly not be the last. But what is it? In her case, I think he was a bit boring for her style - he didn’t make her laugh, which is necessary in any relationship with her. She deserves to laugh.

Everyone is looking for an edge in others. After thinking about it further, I couldn’t help but consider if an edge simply means someone who is hard to get, the “bad boy,” if you will. A bad boy is bad news though, as most women agree, why is it that so many of us want one?

Is it because we love to play games and constantly wonder if he’s going to call (who doesn’t love playing games - LOVE Scramble on Facebook) or because it’s safe (how serious can a relationship with a “bad boy” actually get?). Perhaps I’m all wrong and women just want someone who keeps their interest. Maybe this is where the saying, “good guys finish last” comes in. Is nice boring? Is polite dull? I don’t think so.

I saw “He’s just not that into you” last night with a friend who definitely likes these types of guys. She knows it, too. She is fully aware that her taste introduces her to all of the wrong guys, yet she can’t help herself from these party everynight, I hope he calls, should I text him back guys. Why is it that when women go on dates, they are willing to go on a second and sometimes even fifth date with someone they are really not that into, yet a guy knows right away? Venus and Mars? Or it is because despite our nature to desire an edge, the one we long to meet has anything but. It’s tough when our mind and heart differ in opinions. We’re just so lucky when they finally match up.

Jason and I picked up Chipotle last night. We get salads to go, as healthy as we can. Lots of salsas, no cheese, meat, and that’s pretty much it. Yum. I love it. I kept asking the nice woman for more. She would scoop like three kernels of corn, like ten diced tomatoes and three pieceS of chicken. What used to be a huge vegalicious salad was now merely 9 bucks worth of very little. I couldn’t resist but asking for a lot more.

At Panera last week, my mom and I noticed the same thing.

And you guys think this recession is a bad thing? We may see the end of obesity during the next couple of years. Who can afford seconds anyway?

In ten minutes I have to go pick Jason up from work. We have a lot to do tonight, so I won’t have time to write. The weekend in Virginia was phenomenal. Seeing Laurel and Michelle was amazing, it was just like old times but better. I laughed so much, cried just once and got pretty tipsy too. I played my first game of beer bong (yes, it was my first time playing) and experienced more drama than I have since college. Perhaps it’s because those two go together. Perhaps with alcohol comes drama. I drank more in college. I don’t drink that much anymore and when I do, it’s wine with Jason and friends at dinner or a bar. Seldom do I get “wasted.” Drunk, yes, but multiple bottles of wine…not so much. Anyway, the best part about drama is talking about it the next day. I need to call Michelle and Laurel tonight to follow up with the drama’s aftermath. In many ways I felt like I was going on a tour of a famous television show, except it was Laurel’s life. I hear so many stories a week about her boyfriend, roomate, bars, etc., and this past weekend, I got to experience each one of them myself. Hilarious. Now I know exactly what Laur means by, “it was crazy.” In many ways it was! It was soooooooooo much fun.

 I also got to see Jenna and Joe while I was there. While it was great to see them, I would much rather they move back to Chicago. I miss them :(.

Being home after so many days is so fantastic. I am soooooooo thrilled. When I walked in last night, Jason greeted me with a gigantic hug and kiss. Home sweet home.

Two interviews this week and a lot of wedding stuff on my plate. All good things.

 My mom and I went to Bed and Bath to register…three times. The first time we went Jason was with us. The second and third time he was not. As much as I did not want her opinion, I couldn’t help but look to her for approval. Not only does she have great taste, but she’s my mom and a mom often knows best. Especially mine - as much as I HATE to admit that sometimes. As we completed the registry, the lovely employee (hey girl, are you reading this? There are parts that are messed up - I’ll call you!) told us that she wishes she had our relationship with her mom. I hope I have it one day with Layla, too. (My dad thinks Layla is a “drug name,” what do you think?) 

I went to meet Darryl tonight (my dad totally favors Darryl, poor Darryl) at his apartment. In the blizzard, my father held my hand down the parking lot. He told me he loves holding my hand and that he can’t let me slip. I can’t remember the last time that he did. My father has taught me so much about life in the past seven years, namely how to accept, forgive and love - three lessons that I depend on daily. I have one of three down. 

I was supposed to be back in Chicago today. I changed my flight to Sunday, but will be departing from DC instead of Cleveland. Michelle and I were going to surprise Laurel this weekend (this was planned three days ago), but I couldn’t resist the urge to tell her. It will be a blast. I haven’t been to DC to see Laur in years and never at the same time as Michelle. I can’t wait to meet Laurel’s new man. They just changed their FB statuses, so it must be serious.

And one last thing before I go to bed at this reasonable hour…I fell in love with a dog today. My heart felt broken when Jason told me, “no” over the phone. Had he met Adam’s sister Eva, he would have melted too. I don’t want any other dog - I want Eva.

Have a great weekend. I’ll write you when I get back to reality on Monday.

This is the first time that I feel old during a visit home. While I always feel that Beachwood is where my heart is and a place that I can and will always return, it feels like years since I have lived here. I guess it has been years - 2.5 years to be exact. This is a new feeling and it’s so weird. Maybe it’s the fact that I have been thinking so much about what I want for Jason and me in our future life - I have no idea. My favorite movie ever is Garden State. Zack Braff (who wrote it) has the line, “you know that point in your life when you realize that the house you grew up in isn’t really your home anymore?” I never identified with this line. Until now. I don’t miss my house - I’m laying in my twin sized childhood bed now; I miss the home that no longer exists. 

Half way through the lines begin…

It’s just so strange when you wake up one day and unexpectedly realize that the place you go home to is merely a symbol of the past. It’s not that each visit doesn’t create new memories, it’s just that they all seem to be built around planning for the future, not about the ins and outs of today. I miss Jace so much that when he got off the phone to read tonight, I begged him to let me listen. When my family used to be together without me, I would call my sister’s cell and she would leave the phone open on the table so that I could be a part of the fun. That’s the home that I miss. And they weren’t even home when that happened.

Jason has told me, “home is just another word for you.” I always felt the same about him. Perhaps when you find a new home, the one you once knew becomes heartfelt history. Is is impossible to have two homes? Maybe home is just another word for life. Or family. Or family life. Or maybe home is really just where your heart is. 

Time for bed now. It feels so good to be back home tonight, even if it’s only in my mind.

1. I absolutely love this sort of thing, reading about other people in a way that we seldom are able to. I’ve read each one of yours.

2. I have a written journal from every year since ‘95. I read one last night and felt overwhelmed with appreciation for today.

3. I am more myself in front of my fiancee than anyone I’ve ever known.

4. I tell my dog Adam the most intimate details of my life. He never passes judgement, he just listens.

5. I believe that letting go of the past is imperative for the future that I want. Getting there…

6. I expect a lot from my family and want to give it right back.

7. I would love to be half the mother that my mom is to me.

8. Nobody makes me laugh more than my father. Not even close.

9. I blog. Stacycelia.com.

10. I have eight bridesmaids and they are all so different.

11. My favorite snack is overcooked green beans, butter spray, and cheesy Molly McButter.

12. Steph and I love nothing more than a good bottle of Propel and screaming Alanis Morresette while we drive around to nowhere… especially when we’re angry.

13. If I had my way, I would have dance parties every night.

14. I have the deepest love/hate relationship with money.

15. I LOVE Mary Tyler Moore.

16. The nicest man I’ve ever known was my grandpa Ben. Jason reminds me of him a lot.

17. There are a couple occupations that I would be really good at and feel great passion for…but I would have a tough time separating my work from my personal life. 

18. I love singing.

19. My greatest fear is being a widow.

20. I HATE judgemental people, especially when they don’t know that they are acting as such.

21. I plan to go back to school.

22. I hate when I don’t have a manicure.

23. I am very passionate and that makes me really sensitive and easy to disappoint. And difficult for me to forgive.

24. I love diamonds. I never knew this until recently.

25. I am slowly becoming addicted to Starbucks.

I have so much on my mind right now as I lay in bed watching Youtube. Planning a wedding is highly emotional but I am loving every second of it. I was going to tell you how I am feeling and what-not, but instead I told Jason and Stephanie on the phone for the past couple of hours. I found a video about “Trashing the Dress” which I have posted below. It should answer some of the questions that I have received since the last post. Check it out. Good night.

PS - Adam says, “heyyyy!”

"Trashing the dress" is a fairly known ritual that happens at the conclusion of a wedding, according to my Google search results.

The flowers, the music, the vows, the bridesmaids, just details, details, details. But THE dress, (with the exception of the groom, of course) is perhaps the single most important part of creating the wedding of every little girl’s dream. 

I never really dreamed of my dress, but instead always thought about the lucky son of a gun that would be across the bima from me. He would be a prince, of course, who was so deeply in love with me that a tear fell from his face as I grazed down the rose pedal aisle. Perhaps he would recite a quote from some famous poet because his words alone could not simply convey the love that he feels for me. Of course when I met Jason, I knew my wedding would capture my childhood fantasies, but I also knew that the perfect dress for me was a big part of it. If a wedding is going to cost a million bucks, I had better feel like it, too.

And so, the photographer is up there on the list. I need to capture this day thoroughly. But I want more than just posed shots, everyone has those and they fail to tell the real story. What I want is an artistic photographer who has the ability to tell the fairy tale that is my life in no words at all. And so I have been looking at photographs online and it has become clear that “trashing the dress” is a very common thing for a bride to do. At first I was in disbelief.

You mean to tell me that after searching far and wide (even though I found mine after trying on two dresses, of course it was too good to be true and the hunt continued), brides TRASH their gown? If you have never been dress shopping, let me tell you what I went through. First off, most dresses that I tried on required me to dive in head first. And so, standing there half naked, some lady who you just met stands in your dressing room smiling and waiting for you to jump on in. And then you’re in…if you’re lucky. If you’re not, Jackie (I think that was her name) bends her knees and sticks her hands up your dress in order to pull down the layer closest to your body. After an hour with Jackie, she had touched me in more places than anyone ever has without buying me dinner first. Oh and dresses come in funny sizes. A size 4 is  size zero. A 10 is a 6. It makes women who want nothing more than to feel like a princess feel like a cow. Until you find THE dress. And then all of the negative feelings dissolve (along with your wedding budget) into pure bliss.

It’s all about the dress from then on. People who you have never met you will ask, “Where did you get the dress?” “Who makes the dress?” “Can you send me a link to your dress?” “Is it ivory, white, off white, lace, strapless?” “Does it have beads, crystals, etc etc etc etc etc.” 

AND AFTER ALL OF THIS, PEOPLE TRASH THEIR WEDDING DRESS?

It does beg the question, what else would you do with it? I started to Google this idea and was amazed to find how many brides take part in this messy tradition. And then I realized, I want in. It looks like so much fun. It means a lot more than messing up your dress; it symbolizes the fact that you don’t need a wedding dress ever again. It doesn’t matter what happens to the dress because after all the planning and dress fittings end, your life is just beginning. And so if I really want my photo album to tell my children the story of their parents’ big day, then certainly I will want my priceless dress to be trashed at the end. A perfect ending to a perfect beginning.