... and Enide

Moving On

2011-11-12T20:35:00.000-05:00

An Open Letter to Anyone Whose RSS Feed to ...and Enide is Still Up and Running:

...and Enide was an important part of my life. It brought me so much joy to be able to share the excitement of my engagement with a surprisingly large community of friends and family. But when Adam and I finally tied the knot, it was time to move from the doe-eyed idealism of life as a fiance into the joyful reality of my life as a wife.

So I stopped blogging.

Two years later, I'm a happy wife and mother. Times and tone have changed, but I still want to share my insights and experiences. Enter Experimental Wifery. Experimental Wifery is a non-narrative project about the things I'm always learning about being a wife and woman.

If you're still out there, I would love your support and feedback.

Alison

We're Back

2010-11-21T10:12:00.006-05:00

...and Enide started out as a chronicle of my engagement and marriage to the man I love more than anything in the world. I gratefully shared my triumphs and challenges with the people who mean the most to me until our August 15 wedding date.

After fifteen months of marriage, I can attest that the romance of Erec and Enide is indeed a spectacular analogy for the effort and joy of being married. There is no space for complacency or ingratitude in marriage. Marriage really is a quest, a constant journey two people undertake to find their vocation and happiness together.

But now, our journey begins to take a turn. Just a few weeks ago, Adam and I found out that we are expecting our first little boy or girl.

We would like to share this exciting new road, full of excitement and anxiety, with those who have already come so far with us as a community. Look for posts leading up to our early July due date.

Welcome back. And thank you for joining us on our journey.

...and Enide

2009-08-14T09:52:00.000-04:00

To my readers, I apologize for failing to post over the past few weeks. As I'm sure you can imagine, I've been extremely busy being pampered and hosted--for which I'm extremely grateful. I probably won't post again for a week or to after our big day tomorrow. But, before I go from Miss Enide to Mr. Erec, I wanted to share with you a short reflection on what this blog has meant to me.

I started the blog as a gift to Adam for Saint Valentine's Day. He knows I want to write for publication, so he has heavily encouraged me to practice more often than I do. Over the past few months, though, what started out as a gift for Adam has become more of a gift to me.

First, the warm encouragement of Adam and other friends has given me a courage to write that I've never really felt before. Adam's gentle criticism has helped me to be more open to the suggestions of others. And the loyalty of many of my readers has given me faith that people will read when I have something meaningful or worthwhile to say.

Second, I never expected ...and Enide to blossom on- and off-line the way it has. I'm astounded at having readers on several continents who regularly follow my project. But I am far more astounded at the number of friends and family who have e-mailed me or sought me out in person to start a serious discussion about issues I've raised on ...and Enide. The blog isn't just my thoughts anymore. I'm not the only one who thinks seriously about relationships and marriage, so I've been honored to have my own ideas tempered and honed by people who care as passionately about Godly relationships as I do. And other people's imput has done a lot to give me a better sense of perspective about the seriousness of marriage, something I often worry about more than I ought to.

Most importantly, though, I've been so blessed by the community that's sprung up around ...and Enide. I feel truly loved to have people discuss the ideas on my blog with me and in front of me. Readers have gone out of their way to show me how supported Adam and I really are.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, "Thank you." Thank you for coming along on part of the journey with us. That you for taking time out of your busy day to follow along in this small but important piece of our lives. We are very grateful for our community and for your friendship.

...and Enide will continue when I get back from my honeymoon--at least for a little while. We hope to see many of you at the wedding, at the later Mass in DC, or as soon as you can visit us. Our home is always open to you.

Alyce the Bridesmaid

2009-08-12T11:29:00.004-04:00

Alyce and I went to middle and high school together. I don't think I'm exaggerating much when I say I say I would never have made it through either without her. She was kind to me and accepted me for my moodiness when few other people did.

Alyce brings a sense of elegance and poise to the bridal party. She encourages me to feel pampered and beautiful--something that isn't always easy for me.

She is also the most honest bridesmaid. She always been someone I could count on to let me know if I wasn't looking my best. She tells me what she thinks, flat out. Her frankess has been a very useful asset when picking out make-up or going-away dresses.

Overall, Alyce is my first real female friend. That's a beautiful gift for which I can never repay her. She brought all that friendship and warmth to the bridal party and I am I very grateful to her.

Down to the Wire: Choosing My Name

2009-08-05T07:39:00.002-04:00

In case you don't know, my fiance has an absolutely fantastic name: Adam Cyril Methodius Solove. Cyril and Methodius are his confirmation saints, the men who brought Christianity to Eastern Europe a millennium ago. Tall, blond, broad-set, hooded eyes, a chiseled nose--Adam is the picture of the Eastern European background that gives him his surname. A. C. M. Solove fits him like a glove.

I'm fairly happy with my born name, too. Alison Michelle Fincher has just the right combination of sweeping feminine and harsher masculine sounds. I am the picture of Anglo-Irishness, so the surname Fincher fits.

I want to make the sybmolic gesture of joining Adam's family by taking his surname. The reality that tiny, Anglo-Irish me must take on a distinctively Eastern European surname cannot be escaped. But what of my middle names?:

Michelle--the middle name given to me by my parents. I have a certain fondness for it.

Lucy--my confirmation saint. Another lovely, feminine name.

Fincher--my maiden name. There are no male Finchers in my generation, so I feel something of an obligation to salvage it in my name.

Alison Michelle Lucy Fincher Solove? I don't think so. But what combination? What do you think?

Down to the Wire: Learning to Dance

2009-08-04T22:22:00.002-04:00

Adam and are great amateur dancers--at least in the literal sense of "amateur." We dance because we love it, not because we are any good at it. I've taken a few courses in ballroom and Latin dances, plus a year of ballet. Adam has dabbled in the waltz and swing. Put our combined inexperience together, add a sixteen-inch height difference, and you don't get a particularly winning combination.

But for us, it is a win. It has been really, really fun learning the Viennese waltz for our first dance together. We certainly don't have the time, talent, or skill for an elaborately choreographed wedding surprise, but we can dance competently and enjoy ourselves. Adam has put up with my one-sided criticisms and accidental toe-smashings with a smile on his face; I've learned how to keep my balance and sense of humor when my lead tumbles over in a dizzy heap. We've learned--albeit not mastered--a new skill... and we've done it together.

I guess the experience of learning to dance embodies most of the things I love best about our relationship. Part of learning to dance has been learning to cope with each others peculiarities--particularly the height difference, but also Adam's nervousness and my fools-rush-in attitude about trying new things. When we dance the Viennese waltz at the wedding to country waltz music, we will be acting on our tendency to be slightly out of sync with what's normal--but only slightly. Our friends have taught and encouraged us, so we've been able to incorporate a community of people who love us into an activity we were trying together. Best of all, though, dancing is just one of the "amateur" things we get to do together. We paint. We sing. We dance. We cook. We don't do anything expertly, but we're willing to try just about any new skill. Even when we fail, we have a great time.

Trying new things isn't part of what marriage is "about." But it is a part of what we're about. That's part of what I'm so grateful for Adam.

Showered

2009-08-02T07:43:00.004-04:00

Yesterday marked the final of my three showers. I feel so very loved for all the affection, generosity, and attention that have been showered on Adam and me.

This shower was a little bit different. It was co-ed, for one thing. It worked better than I expected to have guys there. I think Adam felt very included.

It also wasn't a shower for traditional gifts. It was a pantry shower. We got a gift bag of various vinegars, a colander full of midnight snacks, a pistachio pesto making kit... even a Rubbermaid tub full of cleaning supplies.

Lindsay did an absolutely fantastic job planning an event that was warm and welcoming for people of many different ages and relationships to us. Again, I find myself extremely grateful for her and for her friendship.

Adam and I are very, very lucky. We understand that many people face real obstacles to getting married like financial difficulties or unsupportive parents. But every single person who has been a part of our marriage preparation--our parents, family, friends, and priests--have shown us what a loving community we have the honor to be a part of. Thank you, as a reader, for being a part of that community.

(Click here to view more photos from the shower.)

Rugs

2009-07-30T21:16:00.005-04:00

I know it doesn't seem like much, but Adam and I bought rugs this afternoon. It's such a special experience slowly building our home together.

Wedding Party: Erica the Bridesmaid

2009-07-30T07:39:00.002-04:00

Part four in my (now almost complete) series on the bridal party...

My younger sisters are twins, so there is no picking one without the other. Not that it would have mattered. Erica has been an extraordinary blessing in so may ways. I don't know what I would have done without her.

I think Erica may be the most excited member of the wedding party. She's the one who calls every week or so to remind me, "Four more months!" or "Three more weeks!" She helped keep my enthusiasm up, even on the days in Oxford when America, Adam, and marriage seemed so far away. Erica is probably the closest to marriage of my bridal party, so she really understands my joy. And Erica has that rare virtue of always accepting a loved-one's joy as her joy, too.

Erica has also found the way to strike the right balance between refusing to offer her opinions and backing off to let me make a decision. When we went dress shopping, most people who went with me said, "You should get whatever you like," or "Get that one! The other one looks awful on you!" Erica was the one who watched me for my reactions. She waited until she saw me put on the dress that made me happy. "That's the one," she said. And she was right. It was so nice having someone identify what I wanted from the embarrassment of choices at the bridal store. That's just the way she is, the way I aspire to be--helpful without ever being overbearing.

Erica has gone out of her way to be the helpful bridesmaid, but not in an annoying way. When she calls with a question she never says, "Why don't you do this?" or "You should ask Mom to do that." She calls and says, "I think we should do this. How can I help?" Her attitude has meant a lot to me, planning a wedding from afar. I haven't always taken up her offers, but I love knowing she's there to help no matter what.

Last night, for example, Erica called to tell me that the girl who had agreed to do my make-up backed out. I was disappointed--Erica knew I would be. But Erica never just calls with bad news. "Why don't you let me do your make-up?" she asked. Knowing I would be skeptical, she supported her offer with offers to learn from friends and on YouTube before a practice run the week before the wedding. She even volunteered to find a friend to do my make-up for me if I was too nervous about her doing it. Erica is the only person I know who offers help that way. She offered to put a lot of work into rendering me an important service, but gave me an easy out if I didn't want to take it. That's just Erica--my unassuming, always-generous, little sister/bridesmaid Erica. I am, as I always have been, grateful just to know her.

Enlightened

2009-07-29T07:44:00.002-04:00

Catholics are used to accepting challenges of sexism in the Church. What could possibly be more sexist than a patriarchal organization with an all-male hierarchy? The Church controls women, telling them how to behave and imposing restrictions on their bodies, at least according to popular imagination. I have to say--although, as one of the "oppressed," my opinion may be tainted--that nothing could be further from the truth in my experience as a Catholic convert.

I've posted before about my early attempts to define my personal strengths within a masculine paradigm, trying to make myself more like a man to win the world's respect. It made me disliked (which was probably unfair) and utterly unhappy. It wasn't until I started exploring Catholicism that I discovered the Church's liberating teaching about the complementary strengths of men and women. I am special and equally valued for what I am as I was made.

I was delighted to find the same liberation in the very rite of marriage. For example, in many religious sects, the father of the bride or a trusted friend gives the bride to the groom; the Catholic Church rejects this teaching as a symbolic denial of a woman’s right to choose marriage for herself. I am the one who chooses my own destiny. My person and my maidenhead are mine to give to Adam just as much as he is his own person to give to me. Similarly, Catholic marriage vows affirm an equal partnership between bride and bridegroom. Even in the Old Rite, both partners make the same vow. No wife has to promise to obey.

There are many, I'm sure, who would still object to the Church's teaching about femininity and marriage. But I, for one, feel free and valued by the Church. I'm not just a machine for making little Catholics--Adam and I are a team, two partners representing humanity's relationship with the divine.

Apologies

2009-07-28T07:16:00.003-04:00

I know I haven't reliably posted this month. I have three excuses.

First, with Adam in town, I don't need an outlet as desperately. It's always been difficult to maintain a blog while he's around. I'd rather spend time with him than writing.

Second, I'm writing an article (hopefully) for publication. It's made me less enthusiastic about writing blog posts.

Finally, with my wedding so imminent, it's difficult to force myself to think abstractly about marriage or weddings. I don't want to think about marriage--I want to be married.

So, I will do my best to keep the blog updated over the next eighteen days as my wedding approaches. Hopefully you can expect lots of pictures from the week-long celebration.

Thank you for bearing with me.

Wedding Nightmare #3

2009-07-25T08:17:00.002-04:00

It has been a long time since I had a wedding nightmare. Overall, the planning has quieted. I'm more in love with Adam than words can describe. I feel calm and ready. Or at least I did until last night.

The dream started with my parents dropping me off at Target... after the wedding. For some reason, I didn't want to face the reception. I looked around Target for what I thought were a few hours. It was pretty dull.

There were some very cute children there with their parents. I tried to help them if they wanted a toy down from a shelf or play with them if they seemed to want a companion. But they all cried and their parents all made faces at me--none of them wanted my help.

Finally, I called my own parents to come and pick me back up. It was dark outside, which confused me. "What have you been doing?" Pop said, "It's nine o'clock."

"Did I miss the reception?" I asked, horrified.

"Of course you did," said Pop.

It soon became clear that I had abandoned Adam and all my guests. Adam had been left alone to cope with all of our family in friends--to eat cake alone, throw my bouquet, dance alone, and leave alone in a spray of unenthusiastic flower petals. He wasn't there when I got back to my empty house, strewn with party remains.

It was clear to me in the dream that I hadn't meant to skip the reception. I was so bitterly disappointed. All I'd wanted to do was spend a day with the man I love, celebrating with people who mean so much to me. But I failed. I forced myself to wake up before my heart broke in anger at myself.

The dream, I think, came from my anxiety about the RSVPs. I've let myself build up so much excitement about them that watching the responses roll has been a really emotion process. Maybe I've been so concerned about everyone else having a good time that I'm afraid I'll miss it or that I'll ruin it. And, what's worse, the dream seems to suggest that I'm afraid messing up at our reception bodes poorly for my marriage with Adam.

I Hate to Nag...

2009-07-23T07:28:00.002-04:00

This is my second post on lessons remembered in For Women Only...

I'm sure I'm not the only woman who lives in fairly-constant fear of being a nag. It's the ultimate cultural rejection of the feminine, the exaggerated worst that all women can be. For many of us (at least I hope it's not just me), being a nag ranks with being a compulsive shopper or a binge eater--it's an abuse of what's good that tortures yourself and others.

That's why I was so disturbed in For Women Only by just how ready men are to perceive our actions as nagging. I thought husbands and wives were supposed to be teams, so I'm surprised and dismayed that men seem to perceive virtually any reminder to do something as nagging. If I'm Adam's helpmate, there has to be some ground here for helping him keep track of his massive to-do list.

Fortunately for me at least, I'm in love with a really reasonable man. I sat down and talked with him about what the book said and about my fear of nagging. While he agreed that reminders generally do seem like nagging, he conceded that my reminders are often useful or necessary. He plans to prove to me he doesn't need to be reminded before he expects me to give up trying to help me this way.

But what about women with less understanding husbands? I don't understand why mass culture is so ready to label a woman a nag. It seems unfair when I'm sure a majority of us are only trying to help when we remind our significant others of things. We're a team--if I do it out of love, I ought to be able to help him in whatever ways I sense are necessary without being accused of undermining him as a man. There has to be a compromise somewhere if only we're willing to discuss nagging together.

For Women Only doesn't really make pejorative claims about what women do or about what men think of it--the book merely presents women with information about how men think. But I think, in this case, the way men think is unfair. In the same way I'm sure few men would like us to accept the mass cultural image of them as mindless sex fiends, few women enjoy or deserve the title of "nag."

For Women Only

2009-07-21T23:01:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago, Adam confessed to me that he'd read my "secret book." It took me a few minutes to realize he meant he'd read For Women Only, an advice book on marriage given to me by a shower guest last spring. The book is subtitled "What You Need to Know about the Inner Lives of Men." Naturally, I had been a bit skeptical. I just thanked the guest, brought it home, and put in on a shelf. How good could a book with such a silly, over-broad premise possibly be?

That's why Adam's verdict surprised me: "it's really insightful," he said. So I've been reading it over the past couple of days. I have to confess that little in the book so far has been particularly surprising. I've always taken for granted that I understand men pretty well generally--and Adam very well particularly. Chapters like "Why Your Respect Means More to Him than Even Your Affection" and "Why Your Mr. Smooth Looks So Impressive but Feels Like an Impostor" didn't offer much information I didn't already know.

But the book has been an excellent reminder of what I ought to do. The entire premise is that women do things to men they ought not to because they don't know better. But I often do things to Adam that I ought not and I do know better. I have no excuse.

In particular, I felt very unhappy with myself when I read the section about making fun of men in public. I love Adam and respect him more than any other man alive. I consider him skilled and capable--he does a wonderful job taking care of me already and we're not even living under the same roof. That's why, to me, his few failings are so adorable. They're incongruous in my eyes--ironic and funny. I like to point out funny things to other people. But it isn't okay if my jests make Adam feel less valued or respected.

To be fair to myself, I don't think I developed this bad habit on my own. Interactions with many other couples, sitcoms, commercials... pop culture encourages us to have gentle fun at the expense of our significant others. It's a dynamic that people interacting with young couples often expect or even encourage. It seems so ingrained that, even though I know it's wrong, I have a hard time imagining public life without good-natured jokes at Adam's expense.

Then I think back to my parents' marriage. No ones marriage is perfect, but I have never doubted my parents respect for each other. I've never seen my mother make fun of my father in public--or my father make fun of her, for that matter. My mother runs my father's business, so it's beautiful to see the faith they really have in each others' abilities. Everyone on their staff knows they feel this way about one another. In my memory, they've never even undermined each other's abilities at home in front of their children. My parents prove that it is possible to have a fun marriage without disrespecting each other for a laugh. Besides, there must be other ways to keep a party lively without embarrassing anecdotes--my parents are far more entertaining than I'll ever be.

Shaunti Feldhahn, the author of For Women Only, is right. My love for Adam, my desire for him to understand how much I appreciate and respect him--these things are far more important than a good joke. Making this sorts of jabs is a habit that may take a while to break. But I will do my best because I still believe that--after salvation and conversion--Adam is the greatest thing that has happened or ever will happen to me.

If the book continues to deliver insights, I'll continue to deliver posts. You can find out more about the book here. T-minus 25 days and counting!

Feeling "Supported"

2009-07-18T15:34:00.002-04:00

A few days ago, I posted about the pleasure of learning to make "grown-up" decisions with Adam. The most difficult part of learning to think like a team has been learning to "own" each others decisions. We both tend to blame decisions that don't quite work out on each other, so it's been an interesting learning processing accepting someone else's ideas as our own decisions.

As for me, I like to blame boring evenings on Adam--"if we'd listened to me we would have had a lot more fun," etc. For Adam, learning to take responsibility for money we both spend has been more difficult. It's not that he's a cheapskate, but we need to be careful right now and he gets irritable when he thinks we aren't being. That's why I was especially nervous about asking him if we had the money for me to seek treatment for the chronic pain in my shoulders. Having tried everything else I could think of, I was ready to try acupuncture. I wasn't sure at all what Adam would say about such an expensive and somewhat questionable treatment.

I wasn't giving Adam enough credit. He completely accepted my need and my desire to try acupuncture. We sat down and talked about how to cut back on the budget and that we could afford a few visits to the acupuncturist before my job started. As I should have known, he never grumbled or complained about a legitimate expense.

But he didn't just support my decision financially--he invested himself in it. He actively encouraged me to find a doctor. He even came to the appointment with me--having him sit through my interview with the doctor and listen to my medical history was a surprisingly intimate experience. He sat in the room with me, calming my fears about needles. He even lay on the floor to talk to me through the hole in the table. (He said I looked like a chubby astronaut.)

I guess I learned from this experience that, even though we might fight about incidental expenses (which do, of course, add up), I should trust Adam to be willing to spend money where it is important. I learned to appreciate how supportive he is of me--financially, personally, physically, and spiritually. We're a team, partners. If we can learn to make responsible decisions without arguing in large matters, perhaps we can learn to make them in small matters, too.

Wedding Party: Lindsay the Maid of Honor

2009-07-17T07:37:00.004-04:00

Part three in my on-going series about the wedding party. My maid of honor stands out from the bride's side of the wedding party--by almost a full six inches. But she's extraordinary for more than her height. She's different from anyone I've ever met.

I've posted before about what I went through in early life trying to make friends with women. It happened to me a few, lucky times, but friendships with women never felt right. I felt like I was treading on egg shells, waiting to say something stupid so the relationship could implode.

Then I met Lindsay. In the three years I've known Lindsay, she's never once made me feel stupid, unwanted, or unloved. I don't feel like our friendship is perpetually at risk. As a matter of fact, Lindsay may be the first woman outside of my family whose unconditional friendship I've been able to accept. I know it doesn't sound like much, but for me, it's a miracle. It's just the way Lindsay is--she loves in a way it's impossible not to accept and cherish.

I picked Lindsay out of my four bridesmaids as the maid of honor not only for the awesomeness of her friendship, but also because she's the most qualified for maid-of-honorly duties. She's the only one, for example, to keep my train in order and to bustle my dress correctly when the wedding is over. Adam calls her my "craft mamma" (because that is one area in which my mother is definitely deficient), so Lindsay has helped me with whatever little DIY crafts have popped up as part of the wedding-planning process. Plus, Lindsay is always a rational eye of calm in any storm.

All in all, Lindsay is a fun, capable, and loving woman I'm honored to have as my maid of honor. If Adam's on my right, there's no one I'd rather have on my left-hand side the day of my wedding.

(Yes--in the picture we are bathing in corn.)

Growing Up

2009-07-16T07:18:00.002-04:00

I know getting married doesn't really coincide with "growing up" for many people anymore, but it does for Adam and me. Not that I don't respect graduate students as adults, and not that many of them don't have to support themselves far more than Adam and I did--but for Adam and I, this is our first try at a lot of grown-up things.

As inconvenient as it has been applying for an apartment from another country, trying to cope with health insurance, and trying to register a rebuilt, out-of-state car, these are all experiences I'm glad to have shared with Adam.

My parents got married at eighteen and, to be frank, had been largely taking care of themselves for years. Mom paid for Pop to go through law school. Pop worked as a janitor at UGA to help contribute. For extra money, they cleaned up repossessed mobile homes on the weekends. All of the first experiences of being grown up--health care, insurance, personal car ownership, apartment leasing--they experienced together. That was always one of my favorite things about my parents' relationship, a probable cause of the great closeness in their marriage today--thirty-five years later. My parents finished growing up together. It's given them a closeness, a trust in each other--and a youthful glow to their marriage--that I have never really seen in other couples' marriages.

I know we are never truly finished growing and changing. I sure hope to be someone better at fifty than I am at twenty-four. But I'm glad that this last bit of "growing-up," transitioning into adulthood, is something I can share with Adam. Dealing with the stresses and excitement has already drawn us closer as a couple. I hope that our shared experience continues to be an asset in our married life.

A Month To Go

2009-07-15T07:16:00.002-04:00

Today marks the beginning of a month-long count down to our wedding!

But because both of our summer jobs feel through--and I've been spending about fifteen hours a day with Adam--it's hard to believe the wedding hasn't happened already. It's very difficult to imagine how different our lives will be. But I look forward to being a real grown-up with a full-time job and coming home to a husband whom I love.

Natural Family Planning versus the Fertility Awareness Method

2009-07-14T07:05:00.003-04:00

I've tried not to blog very much about NFP because it's a topic that can make people pretty squeamish. Don't worry. I'm not going to go into graphic detail here. But NFP classes have become a fairly standard part of marriage preparation for a Catholic couple, so I think it's only right that I think about them and discuss them as a part of the larger project of this blog.

It's difficult to talk about NFP and FAM to people who don't know what they are. I've entertained a lot of jokes about the calendar method and the likelihood of becoming a parent soon after my wedding. (Just to clear up an urban myth, NFP and FAM are about 98% effective when used correctly.) But NFP and FAM are not just about avoiding pregnancy. They're a lifestyle choice and one which, quite frankly, is much healthier for the woman and statistically a part of a stronger marriage.

Because Adam and I have been WAY out of town, we've had to go about NFP training on our own. I bought a book I found on-line, Taking Charge of Your Fertility, and Adam and I read through it together. In all honesty, I bought this particular book because it's a secular book--I thought I would be happier with a more objective discussion. It's about the Fertility Awareness Method--which means it's the same idea as Natural Family Planning, but the emphasis is on the method's benefits to a woman's health and a couple's relationship rather than on the Church's teaching.

Reading Taking Charge of Your Fertility made me feel empowered. It unabashedly discussed the most intimate details of my anatomy in rational, "grown-up" terms. It encouraged me to accept everything that makes me a woman, even the sometimes-gross bits, and encouraged Adam to learn about and accept them, too. As someone who has suffered horrible consequences from hormonal birth control (taken for medical reasons), I loved how much time the book spent highlighting how much better for a woman it is to stay off the pill--and the unfairness that women, who are much less fertile than men, are expected to bear the burden (and often disquieting side effects) of birth control. When I finished the book, I felt more capable as a woman and more ready to share myself with my husband after our wedding.

Trying to get the same information from the Church's Natural Family Planning resources has been a completely different experience.

The Natural Family Planning booklets and websites I've found take what made me feel empowered and make it into an obligation imposed on me by a male-dominated hierarchy. I don't feel like I'm choosing what's best for my body; I feel like I'm trapped in a reactionary former age. The very same materials which the secular book presented to me in a "grown-up," scientific way are euphemized--or at least dumbed down. I'm not empowered by a better knowledge of my body; I'm condescended to and made to feel ashamed of my feminity. I can't even find a doctor to talk to me about some of my specific questions, which makes a perfectly legitimate method of monitoring my own health seem ineffective and backwards. NFP materials have made me feel ashamed of a choice I was proud of. That's really inexcusable.

It's not that we've met anyone involved with NFP who didn't mean very, very well. But it's a dreadful shame that the Church is failing to convince couples to use an effective form of fertility management proven to be more healty and correlated with stronger, happier marriages. We as Catholics really ought to reexamine the way we present NFP to ourselves and to the larger world.

Mamma Mia!

2009-07-13T07:17:00.005-04:00

Adam and I watched Mamma Mia together three days ago. (I should have posted about it then, but I haven't been feeling very well. Apologies.) Just as I was when I saw the touring show and when I saw the movie the first time, I was again conflicted about the musical's dubious message about marriage.

In the musical, a young bride-to-be invites the three men who might be her father--none of whom she has ever met--to her wedding. Hilarity ensues. At the musical's climax, the protagonist finds herself satisfied with her family background. Her wish to find her family is fulfilled. So she cancels the wedding. She and her fiance won't marry now--they'll see the world together first.

Adam insists that they may well have made the right decision. She was using marriage to fill a whole in her life that she needed to fill some other way. Besides, they're young and may not be ready to spend their lives together yet. After all, he reminds me, we did important things with our lives and put off marriage for three years. People shouldn't rush into marriage.

In a way, I guess he's right. Marriage isn't a decision to take lightly or to rush into. But still, I think the musical portrays a destructive image of marriage. The hero and heroine don't want to go out and follow their dreams separately for a few years, as Adam and I did. They want to explore the world together--but they seem to think of marriage as some sort of impediment. Marriage, to them, seems to be a kind of kill joy, a choice to settle down and stay home after the adventures of youth are over.

That's not how I was raised to think of marriage. My parents have always insisted that marriage is its own adventure but, more than that, their married life has been actively exciting. They've traveled. They've run for public office. They've met the who's who of the Deep South. But the difference between my parents and the couple in Mamma Mia is this: my parents have sought and met adventure as a team. The hero and heroine of the musical go out into the world as separate individuals seeking the same adventures; my parents have done and do it as a single entity with a shared story to tell.

That's what I want for my marriage, too. I'm not ready to give up my adventure--though some might accuse me of being less adventurous than most. I'm ready to join my adventure to Adam so we can pursue our lives, our dreams, our vocations together.

Clean Living

2009-07-10T03:07:00.000-04:00

I've already posted about some reservations Adam and I share about wedding registries. But, since we opted to have one, we might as well do it right... As you may already know, Etsy makes me very happy. Local, small scale, often eco-friendly artisans with an on-line community rock. Because of Etsy's structure--many items are one-of-a-kind--it isn't really possible to register with Etsy. But I was inspired by a Wedding Bee who decided to create an Etsy registry anyway.

So here's my compilation of things that would enrich our lives a little bit after we're married. It seems a little disingenuous to need some stuff in order to need less stuff, but I've tried to pick things that will stay useful for a long, long time. (If nothing else, we can keep them on a wish-list for later!):

For the kitchen:
Must-have chopsticks!
Gorgeous salad tongs
Gorgeous cooking and serving utensils!
Gorgeous butcher board!
Recycled wine bottle tumblers--let's get eight!

For the home:
Window herb garden
Indoor flower pots and watering can
A broom broom!

For life on the go:
Reusable sandwich bags--I love the giraffe
Reusable lunch kit=awesome!

For reducing and reusing:
A plastic bag dryer--brilliant idea!
Eco-friendly laundry detergent--will it work?
Reusable dryer sheets
Reusable Swiffer pad--all the ease, none of the guilt!
Plastic bag sock
Reusable produce bags--didn't know these existed!

Just for fun:
A secret compartment book--always wanted one!

Are there any gorgeous, hand-made items you crave for your house or apartment?

The Ideal of Marriage?

2009-07-08T16:01:00.003-04:00

I spend so much time on my blog talking about the ideal of marriage, the meaning of marriage, and the significance of marriage that I sometimes forget about what marriage--and relationships headed in that direction--actually look like. We're a fallen people in a fallen world. The ideal of marriage is an aspiration, not an achievable reality. It's easy to aspire to an ideal when your boyfriend is an ocean away, but somewhat harder when your fiance is in the room with you.

Take today for example. Adam and I set buying wedding rings as our daily goal. What started as an innocent internet search for DC-area jewelers turned into a senseless argument about how we ought to make decisions. When we took a few minutes to cool off before we sat down to talk about what happened, I couldn't help but think Is this really us? Is this the best we can do? I thought marriage was our vocation--why is this happening?

In the end, we learned a valuable lesson about listening and about communicating our expectations to each other. But, more than that, I learned something about ideals. I can't get upset when we fall short of them. It's going to happen. A fight doesn't mean we're not called to married life. It just means we're not perfect. And making up, reaching a compromise, loving each other anyway--these are special blessings in marriage for a fallen people.

Beatrico

2009-07-07T12:04:00.002-04:00

After a brief hiatus in Georgia to pick up the new car (aka "the Millenium Falcon"), ...and Enide is back...

Over the past few days, Adam and I have found ourselves re-exploring Dante's Divina Comedia. Both of us read The Inferno in high school, but neither of us has ever explored the rest of the three-part poem in depth. I'm only now realizing how deprived I've been.

In The Inferno, Dante finds himself alone in a dark wood. Virgil (of Aneid fame) finds the frightened Dante and proposes that they both undertake a most surprising journey--through hell, past purgatory, into heaven. Virgil guides him through the nine circles of hell, protecting him from demons and monsters, until they escape hell and begin to climb the mountain of purgatory. Again, Virgil prove himself a loving and powerful guide through purgatory. At the gates of heaven, the pagan Virgil leaves Dante in the care of Dante's beloved Beatrice.

The first time I read the poem, I focused on Virgil. Virgil is Dante's guide in his imaginative realms of hell and purgatory, as well as a literary guide for the writing of the poem itself. I've only gradually realized that to pay attention only to Virgil--even in The Inferno and Purgatorio--is to completely miss the point. Beatrice is Dante's guide in the poem, and in his life, whether she is present or not.

In my own defense, I think I lacked the context to understand Beatrice's role when I read the poem as a Protestant. She's Dante's intercessor, the one who brings his cause before heaven. It's a role saints like Beatrice can only play when we accept the communion of all believers, living and dead. Even in the darkest pits of hell, Beatrice sends Dante help and hope.

But Beatrice is far more than intercessor. She's an active guide in Paradiso, but also in The Inferno and Purgatorio, as well as in the whole of Dante's life. Her name itself--meaning "bringer of gladness"--takes on an allegorical meaning. She is the person in which Dante sees God. She's no false idol for Dante, but a presence that makes him feel irradiated with God's love. Dante sees God in Beatrice. Thinking about her, writing about her, striving to reach the heaven in which she resides--all these things draw Dante closer to God. Her role as guide through heaven is the perfect allegorical fulfillment of her role in Dante's life.

That's a role I never understood until I fell in love. Adam is my "Beatrico." In his love, I feel God's love for me shining through. Adam's goodness and compassion give me a model for behavior, but by themselves draw me closer to God. He's not just my fiance and won't just be my husband. He's also a walking allegory, a representation of what God's love looks like and feels like. That's why I feel so strongly called to the vocation of marriage--the love of the man I hope to call my spouse draws me further up in and further in to God's love every day.

Self-Sufficency... Overrated

2009-07-01T23:13:00.002-04:00

I grew up with a healthy, Southern-American idealization of the sternly self-sufficient man--the man (or woman) who pulls him(or her)self up by his (or her) proverbial bootstraps. I fell for the Randian image of humanity where man reigns supreme when he is completely his own.

As an adult, I no longer idealize the self-sufficient man. The Catholic Church taught me to revere Christian community--the same community that Southern-American culture practices, even if it doesn't necessarily preach. Aristotle taught me that only God-like men and beasts can live outside of political life. And joyful experience has taught me that life with love and community is richer and more meaningful.

Getting married has been an amazing way to see the communities in which Adam and I live. We're so lucky to have friends and family across two continents who wish us well. And here, back in DC, we're extremely fortunate to have friends who have been really generous with their resources, time, and companionship. Just today, Adam and I picked up a bedroom set from my school's secretary, had a friend come over to help us move it up the three flights of stairs to our apartment (no elevator), and made dinner in the borrowed kitchen of my maid of honor. Our friends and family have really invested themselves into helping Adam and I build a life together.

No man can live on his own. But he was never meant to. Life really is richer and more meaningful in a community of people who take care of each other. We're so grateful that God has blessed us with such a wonderful group of friends and family.

The Scarlet Pimpernel and Marriage

2009-06-30T12:20:00.005-04:00

One of the fondest memories of former Brookewood seventh-graders seems to be reading Baroness Orczy's The Scarlet Pimpernel. Never one to willingly disappoint, I duly picked up the novel to read over the summer so I could read it with my new students when the school year starts. So, when my maid of honor forced me to watch The Scarlet Pimpernel on DVD, I was shocked and appalled by the shear banality of the story.

The film tells the story of an outrageous fop who secretly helps rescue French nobility from the jaws of the guillotine in the year of grace 1792. His wife, unaware of his alter-ego, unwittingly aids her ex-lover, now-French-special-agent in the discovery of her husband. The story follows the trite pattern of a super-hero movie where the beautiful, hapless heroine discovers the secret identity of her noble lover. There is, of course, a daring series of intrigues leading up to a predictable climax. Not literature.

But the film fundamentally misunderstands the novel. The novel isn't about the Scarlet Pimpernel, or Sir Percival Blakely, at all. It's about his wife, Lady Marguerite Blakely, and the couple's discovery what marriage really is.

In the novel, the audience sees inside the mind of Lady Blakely. She, too, has been taken in by the foppish facade of her aristocratic husband. She married him because he stood out as the most devoted among countless admirers. He has ceased to love her. She cannot understand why and holds him in contempt for his unintelligence.

She is so selfishly caught up in her own world that when the French agent presents her with a terrifying choice--whether to save her brother from the guillotine at the price of helping to identify the Scarlet Pimernel--she never seriously considers going to her husband for aid. She has too little respect for him as a person and a man to trust him. Only later, the dirty deed irrevocably done, does she think to speak with him about what has happened.

When she starts to speak with him, the audience finally finds out what motivates them both--what estranges them and ruins their marriage. Pride. The night they were married, Sir Percival discovered that his wife had sent someone to the guillotine. Trusting in his undying devotion, Lady Blakley proudly refused him an explanation. Out of pride, Sir Percival hid all his affection from her, unwilling for the world to see his love for the heartless women he then believed his wife to be. Out of pride, Lady Blakely refused to tell him how unwitting her betrayal had been. For a year, they hadn't shown each other the mutual affection they smolders beneath the surface of their cold relationship or to tell each other the truths the long to reveal.

The rest of the novel chronicles Lady Blakely's gradual realization who her husband is and the terrible betrayal she has made out of ignorance. To save him, she tracks him to Dover and then across the channel to France. In an inversion of the story of Erec and Enide, she slowly realises that her doddering fool is the bravest and most competent man in Europe. She regrets that she has been so blinded by pride that she could not detect his identity sooner and spare the betrayal. When they are safe, Sir Percival in turn laments the pain and suffering his proud reticence caused his wife.

The filmed versions of The Scarlet Pimpernel make into an adventure story what is actually a beautiful love story. The novel's brilliance lies in Lady Blakely's slow discovery how strong and masculine her husband is. It lies in Sir Percival's hard-won realization how important honesty is in a relationship. And it lies in the couple's final understanding that pride has no place in a happy, open marriage.

Male and Female He Created Them

2009-06-29T11:30:00.004-04:00

Sexuality affects all aspects of the human person in the unity of his body and soul. It especially concerns affectivity, the capacity to love and to procreate, and in a more general way the aptitude for forming bonds of communion with others.

Everyone, man and woman, should acknowledge and accept his sexual identity. Physical, moral, and spiritual difference and complementarity are oriented toward the goods of marriage and the flourishing of family life. The harmony of the couple and of society depends in part on the way in which the complementarity, needs, and mutual support between the sexes are lived out.

"In creating men 'male and female,' God gives man and woman an equal personal dignity." "Man is a person, man and woman equally so, since both were created in the image and likeness of the personal God."

Each of the two sexes is an image of the power and tenderness of God, with equal dignity though in a different way.
--Catechism of the Catholic Church

There is a beautiful George MacDonald story called The Myth of Photogen and Nycteris. In the tale, the witch Watho abducts two young children--a boy and a girl. She raises the boy to be strong and fearless, but to never encounter the dark. She raises the girl to be wise and calm, but to never see light brighter than a small globe in her otherwise pitch-black room. Eventually, the two discover each other and make a daring escape from the witch's kingdom. It takes all of their shared talents and virtues to make the journey alive.

The story is, on top of being a brilliant tale in its own right, a poignant allegory for the relationship between men and women. Photogen is deeply involved in the world, strong, able to take care of Nycteris. Nycteris is my retired, thoughtful, but able to get Photogen through the darkest nights and his deepest fears. As a child, I loved that image of cooperation, love between two perfect equals necessary for each others' completeness. As a grown woman, soon to marry my own Photogen, I find the story even more compelling.

Perhaps that's why I was deeply disturbed to hear a Catholic priest recently questioning the idea that men and women have separate but complimentary virtues. That idea has been so fundamentally important to me as I've learned to accept and then love my identity as a woman. I don't want to go back to defining my worth by how well I embody the virtues I admire in men: strength, directness, assertiveness. Those aren't my virtues--when I tried to pretend they were, the only made me unhappy and disliked. But, if they aren't male virtues, why did valuing them feel so fundamentally wrong?

The priest's claim was that language about complementarity has only come into the Church's teaching during the past fifty years or so. As he frames it, the emphasis on men and women's separate virtues is a reaction to the feminist revolution--a resurgence of conservatism on the part of the Catholic Church. "I don't remember this kind of wording from my childhood," he said. Another priest corroborated. In a few days of searching, I haven't been able to find a single document that solidly proves them wrong. Even the texts cited in the Catechism (quoted above) all post-date Vatican II.

But what if the priest's causation is wrong. What if the emphasis on male and female virtue isn't a conservative redefinition? The Chuch didn't strongly assert the Oness of the Trinity until it was denied by the Nestorians. And it didn't clarify the two natures of Christ until the Monophysites challenged it. The Church only stands up to declare something true once someone else claims it is false. Otherwise, the Church usually takes the truth for granted.

What if, then, the new emphasis of male and female virtue is another case where the Church has stood up to say, "Wait. This is what we've always believed!"? What if the Church is warning us about the loss of a fundamental perception of ourselves that has always been our privilege and our right? What if complementarity--the truth of men and women being created by God as perfect physical and spiritual pairs--is true at so basic a level that no one ever bother up to defend it until it was challenged?

I don't know if I'm right. I don't know if I've bought into a reactionary conservative redefinition of my sexuality that encourages me to accept domination and control. But I do know that this image of femininity, that I am a Nycertis naturally equipped to love my husband and children, makes me feel more liberated and happy than the idea that I had to force myself to be like a man ever did. No two human beings have the same set of virtues, but I'll continue to work toward the compassion and love that I believe are the special aptitude of my sex

Our Hundreth Post: Moved In Again

2009-06-28T11:48:00.007-04:00

It seems only appropriate that ...and Enide's hundredth post commemorates a huge milestone in my life with Adam. We signed our lease on Friday. The two of us now rent an apartment together.

Neither Adam nor I have been independent, self-sufficient adults since I went back to graduate school two years ago. We've lived independently and paid our own rent (for the most part), but across continents and oceans. We're starting over in DC with very little. We've bought a car. We getting our own health and car insurance for the first time. We're furnishing an apartment with our own ingenuity--not Ikea stuff, but real furniture. There's a lot of tedium in store for us in the next few weeks. But I like that, for us, the process of becoming grown-up people is a part of our marriage experience. It's something that we get to share, the final steps of growing up together. When I move into our apartment after the wedding, I'll be moving into a home we've built together--just for the two of us.

The pictures are of our apartment complex and the park near our apartment. I'll post more pictures of our apartment as we decorate.

Invitations: Double Check!

2009-06-27T08:21:00.002-04:00

I was hoping to post yesterday about the joys of signing our first shared lease, which we have done, but we've mislaid the camera and all the photographs of this momentous event. Instead, I give you the completed invitations:

We're mailing invitations on Tuesday or Wednesday, as soon as they arrive!

Shoujo Anime... or Even More Marriage Advice in Another Unexpected Place

2009-06-25T09:47:00.005-04:00

Shoujo isn't a genre but a demographic. Unlike shonen manga, written for junior-high-aged boys (like Onegai Sensei) or seinen manga, written for eighteen- to thirty-year-old men (like Saikano), shoujo anime and manga is written for young women. As such, it tends to focus on human relationships and emotions. Honestly, most shoujo anime and mange is pretty cheesy. But, occassionally, it can be uplifting and insightful.

Fruits Basket is one of the more thoughtful shoujo mangas I've read. The heroine, Tohru, moves into a tent on a large tract of land after her widowed mother dies, leaving her without a place to live. The owners of the land discover her and invite her to move into their home as a cook, cleaner, and surrogate sister. Of course there's a twist. The owners and certain members of the rest of their family are possessed by the animals of the Chinese zodiac. They lose their human form when they are especially weakened by exhaustion or illness, or by physical contact with members of the opposite sex. Needless to say, hillarity ensues.

The manga explores a number of themes relevant and interesting to fifteen-year-old girls and maybe more than its fair share of romance and pubescant sexual tension. These are well-developed, but nothing new. But the manga also dwells on the significance and importance of physical intimacy for all kinds of human relationships in a meaningful way.

For a family that can't even hug without being transformed into a rat or a cow, intimacy is rare and sporadic. Many of the young men in the series were raised by mothers who couldn't hold them, who can't even help care for their younger siblings. Many of their mothers break down under the pressure of being denied the simple but vital priveledge of holding their babies. Most of the characters cursed by the zodiac have been raised by parents who are distant or absent at best, physically and emotionally abusive at worst. Their inability to touch their parents only makes the distance between them more difficult to bridge.

Even worse, none of the members of the zodiac are--can be--in meaningful romantic relationships. They live in the fear of what will happen if their lover touches them. In the end, they run away from love to avoid that fear. These are people who love deeply and crave meaning in their relationships with others, but whose curse denies them the priveldge they so crave. It's only at the end of the manga, when they finally break the curse, that any of the relationships which have been growing for the 136-chapter manga blossom.

The manga forced me to think about my own attitude toward physical intimacy in romantic relationships. I was raised in a religious tradition that seemed to have a love-hate relatonship with sexuality. Abstinence before marriage was clearly pivotal, so sex was villanized to preteens and teens. But that attitude contrasted sharply with the beautiful connection my parents and others like them obviously had. I didn't know what to think. Was physicality important for relationships or not? Was sex evil?

Since becomming Catholic, and learning more about the theology of marriage, I've developed a much better understanding--in the academic sense, at least--of just how important physical intimacy in relationships is. A marriage isn't even a marriage until it is consummated. And a consummated marriage, a physical oneness between husband and wife, is a natural and beautiful state created by God at the very dawn of human history. Touch is a part of human existence. A lover who can't touch, a husband who can't become one--these are tragedic figures.

Fruits Basket is the story of young men and women overcoming their personal tragedies, fighting against their curse for the priveledge of physical contact. It is marvelously insightful for capturing just how important physical intimacy--or at least the promise of physical intimacy--is for a romantic relationship. A hug, a kiss can make all the difference during a courtship. And a total personal openess, a perfect gift of self, is a vital part of a working marriage.

This is the third part in an unintentional series on marriage in anime and manga. You can see my posts on Saikano and Onegai Sensei. You can also read Fruits Basket on-line here.

Real, Live Fiance

2009-06-24T07:54:00.002-04:00

I picked Adam up from the airport on Monday night. I hadn't seen him in person in nine weeks, twelve hours, and about thirty minutes. But he's here now and--as far as any of us are able to foresee--here to stay...

Despite the hypocrisy of my position, long distance relationships still aren't something I condone or encourage. They turn your beloved into two separate, sometimes irreconcilable people. I'm engaged to two Adams: a flat, distant, sometimes Adam and a very real, dynamic, right-here Adam. Every time I see him, I have to bring the two together, like trying to force double vision back to the way it belongs in the middle of a bad headache. The experience isn't now and never has been pleasant.

Flat, distant, sometimes Adam has his advantages. It's difficult to get into a serious argument with him. It's easier to get things done--like writing regular blog posts--when I only spend an hour a day with him. And when we've spent the other twenty-three hours apart, it's often easier to come up with things to talk about.

Most of all, though, it's easier to put myself before sometimes Adam. I decide how important it is to talk to him. If I'm tired or if I've got something I'd rather do, we don't talk. I have more self-determination about the way I spend my time. I set priorities differently when Adam isn't around to set him first.

It isn't that right-here Adam is controlling. Far from it. It's that, without him around, there's no presence to constantly remind me to put other people first. I'm more selfish when he isn't around. If my vocation is to marriage, being in a relationship where marriage is the ultimate goal enriches who I am, makes me want to be a more loving person to him and everyone I meet. It's just that constant, self-imposed moral pressure like that is a little difficult to get used to every time we've been apart.

There are other benefits to right-here Adam, too. Right-here Adam can hold me and kiss me. He can make me feel loved and appreciated in ways sometimes Adam never, ever could. He can be a helpmate--he spends so much time reading with me, helping me cook, comforting me when I'm sitting in traffic... These are things sometimes Adam just isn't capable of.

So, in the end, I always have to remember that I love both Adams. The fun, witty sometimes Adam I talk to on the phone and the deeper, more loving Adam I see in front of me now every day. It's just that right-here Adam is more dynamic, more human. I'm very grateful for that and look forward to spending the rest of my life with a guy of his depth.

Comments

2009-06-23T09:26:00.001-04:00

I've just been informed that people have had a difficult time commenting on my blog. I've opened comments to annonymous users--at least for the time being. Your thoughts are always welcomed!

Wedding Party: Amy the Bridesmaid

2009-06-22T17:26:00.005-04:00

Part two in my series on why I picked my wedding party...

...well, I guess I didn't pick Amy. Amy is my sister. But, even if she wasn't, I would still love to have Amy as a friend and bridesmaid.

Amy brings the fun to our wedding party. That's just who she is. As a life-long worrier and stick-in-the-mud, I've been very lucky to have her around. She's always got a smile on her face and a joke on her lips. She's been the one reminding me that wedding dress shopping is supposed to be fun. And she's the one who constantly reminds me how beautiful I look.

But Amy is more than a party-maker. She also has an unusually keen sense of perspective. Where my mother and I tend to lose focus, she reminds us what is and isn't important. When the bridesmaids' dresses are the wrong length, she reminds us, "Everyone will still look beautiful." But when I fall in love with a slightly over-budget veil, she chides, "You've stayed in budget everywhere else. Go for it."

Best of all, Amy's an honest critic. In a wedding-party whose most frequent response is "We like whatever you like," she really stands out as frank and open. As much as I appreciate the open-mindedness of the rest of my wedding party, I'm extremely grateful for Amy's candid judgments about the dress, the veil, the band... When she doesn't like something, she lets me know. As a result, I also know her compliments and praises are sincere. When she oohs and aahs and begs to borrow my dress when she marries, I know she really loves it.

Amy spent the last two days on a long trek from Atlanta to DC via the Machina Mysteriorum. I can't really thank her enough for her concrete, practical help in starting my new life with Adam or for her more abstract ability to help my mother and I stay sane. If you're choosing bridesmaids, you'd be well-served to choose a fun and earnest friend to balance your party.

Staying at Home

2009-06-21T08:00:00.007-04:00

I know it's a bit early to think about raising children, but it's been on my mind the past few days.

When we went through our marriage prep course, Adam and I were heavily encouraged to discuss whether or not I would stay home. Adam thinks it is almost absolutely necessary for me to stay home with our children, whereas I'm a little more ambivalent. It's not that we don't agree on the importance of having a mother at home--at least before the kids start school--it's that I'm afraid I may go absolutely stir crazy and feel like a burden, rather than someone who contributes to society.

I couldn't figure out why I felt this way. Women have stayed home with children for thousands of years. Why did I think I was special? Then, reading my old Little House on the Prairie Cookbook, it hit me: staying at home used to be an absolutely vital and valued job.

Prior to the last century, staying at home was undeniably and necessarily a full-time job that contributed to the family and society in many necessary ways. If mom didn't stay home, no one ate vegetables or learned how to read. Without mom, the house was filthy, the family went naked. The elderly and the sick in the community went unfed. No one could doubt the importance of mom in such a role. No mom could feel undervalued or unhelpful. Compare that to today: in our less self-sufficient society, a mom's only necessary roles are nanny and shopper. Where's the sense of value and purpose in that?

It's not that I'm critical of modern stay-at-home moms. In many ways, it's much more of a sacrifice and an admirable thing to do to take a job society-at-large no longer values as it ought. Many, many moms do something great with their time at home with their children--they become far more than the nannies and shoppers society invites them to be. But I think it's obvious now--and I can't believe it never occurred to me before--that women left the home because they no longer felt needed and wanted there. The by-the-book position of "stay-at-home-mom" is merely a vestige of the beautiful and glorious thing it was before.

Adam's right, I know, about the importance of a mother staying home. We were both lucky enough to have mothers who did extraordinary things with their roles--teaching us, taking us to amazing places, serving as active members of the community... I hope, if I think about their examples--and if Adam and I continue to make our home as sustainable and self-sufficient as we can--I can contribute as much as they did to my family and to society and stay at home.

The Veil

2009-06-20T20:21:00.003-04:00

You may remember the veil saga. I am proud to announce that it is over. Adam beautifully and sympathetically told me he trusts me to choose something than makes me look and feel beautiful. I have. And I love it.

You can find a series of photos here. I would ask Adam not to look.

There should be more posts of substance soon. I'm in the process of moving to Washington, DC.

More Oxford

2009-06-17T23:00:00.000-04:00

I'm leaving Oxford this morning at four am. If you're one of my readers from outside of Oxford and just haven't had enough of Oxford yet, I suggest you direct your browser to Exetera, the new webcomic/blog of one of my very best Oxford friends, Ruth. Hilarity will ensue, I promise.

Abundance

2009-06-17T10:31:00.002-04:00

Without going into too much personal detail, I have to own up a little concern about living expenses for the summer. I've been living fairly frugally in Oxford (and Adam in Seattle), but frugal living isn't really the kind of living I like. It's not that I crave a life of luxury or nice new things. But I would like to go out to a nice dinner or two with friends, to throw parties with nice food, or to be able to buy nice presents for others. A summer back in DC with people I love but no money seems...well... unideal.

That's why I was so encouraged by today's scripture reading, 2 Corinithians 9: 6-11:

Consider this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.Each must do as already determined, without sadness or compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. Moreover, God is able to make every grace abundant for you, so that in all things, always having all you need, you may have an abundance for every good work. As it is written: "He scatters abroad, he gives to the poor; his righteousness endures forever." The one who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed and increase the harvest of your righteousness. You are being enriched in every way for all generosity, which through us produces thanksgiving to God.

I know money isn't necessary to do nice things for others. But I felt really blessed by the reminder that God will take care of us and that always, no matter what, there will be enough leftover for us to help take care of others, too.

Picking a Fight

2009-06-16T17:59:00.002-04:00

In our marriage prep, Adam and I have been told time and time again to watch out for the "first big fight." We've both found the idea of fighting difficult to imagine. Neither of us tend to get into loud arguments with others--at least not anymore. We've never had a real explosive fight between the two of us. Neither of our parents fight very often, so it isn't a learned behavior. Besides, what would we fight about?

Over the past few weeks, I've begun to understand. Making adult decisions for the "real world" has thrown us into a context where arguments seem possible where they never had before.

Adam and I aren't good at making decisions on our own. He tends to put them off and then make them impulsively. I fret endlessly, weigh the pros and cons before, unable to decide, I choose arbitrarily. Those two habits don't make for good shared decision making. Choosing a car, deciding what to do for summer work, signing a lease on an apartment--these things are all opportunities for arguments to begin I'd never really thought about.

No, we haven't had (and I hope won't have) any explosive arguments. Our relationship isn't in danger. I still love Adam more than I can possibly say. But I think I understand now why people who love each other have arguments about seemingly-unimportant things: those "unimportant things" are actually fairly important decisions people don't know how to make. It's very, very difficult to make shared decisions. I'm glad we became aware of it now so we can work on the skill together.

Loved, Part Two: CLC

2009-06-15T18:24:00.004-04:00

I think you'll have to indulge a few days of nostalgia, or else come back next week when my life is a bit more settled. I'm leaving Oxford on Thursday. I'm trying to spend the next few days digesting what I've learned.

One of the priests at the chaplaincy suggested to me in October that I ought to join the Christian Life Community group here in Oxford as part of my marriage preparation. CLC is a lay Jesuit organization based on small groups of Catholic Christians praying together in community. The prayer is usually done as imaginative contemplation. To begin with, I was really skeptical. Imaginative contemplation seemed like a glorified RPG with disciples instead of wizards and a prayer guide instead of a DM. I've been really blessed to find out I was wrong.

I've posted before about imaginative contemplation. But I don't think I've put much effort into conveying how special and life-changing the community has been for me. There are six of us--three guys and three girls. We meet once a week to talk and pray. It's been absolutely wonderful being a such a consistently open and loving community. I've felt really loved and cherished.

More than that, though, the experience has really changed the way I perceive other people as Christians. I used to discount spiritual experiences I hadn't had--it seemed too impossible and distant to imagine there was more out there. But here I was, spending a night each week with five other people with distinct prayer lives and relationships with God. In a setting that intimate, there's no way to deny there are things about faith I don't understand. At the same time, the experience has made me feel more secure about myself as a Christian. I no longer feel compelled to squeeze my faith into the mold of the contemplative life--Christianity is more diverse than that. I'm not a contemplative, so I feel much happier in my relationship with God when I'm not trying to be.

Most importantly, CLC has told me a lot about love in action. After each prayer session, every member shares his or her experiences. It's just a time of sharing--no comments or responses. I've never had to listen that way, without considering a rebuttal or advice. It sharpened my attention on what it was my group members we saying and made their experiences seem more real. It forced me to be still in a way I never had before. When we started the group, I was always anxious about how long meditations would last. I needed to know I how long I would have to keep my mind quiet. Now, I usually feel comfortable in the silence. I don't always have the concentration to pray as long as the other members of my group, but I can enjoy the stillness of patiently waiting for them, basking in God's love and our love as a group.

So, I'm very grateful for CLC. I think the experience has made me more human and more willing to accept the humanity of others. I can't think of a more valuable lesson for marriage, or for life. Thank you.

Loved

2009-06-15T06:07:00.005-04:00

I submitted my dissertation on Friday. I'm finished. I have to say the whole thing felt like a bit of an anti-climax. The project that just started a series of goodbyes.

I've always felt uncomfortable trying to make friends. It's something Adam has continually chided me about. My "not-me" comes out when I don't want her, too and I just can't stand the thought of showing her to anyone.

It's taken me a long time to learn to feel loved. But I have been loved. By my family first. Then by Adam, who convinced me that unconditional love is possible. And I have been loved in Oxford. These past few days full of good-byes have really shown me how loved and appreciated I am.

I guess that sounds a little self-centered. But, when it comes down to it, learning how to be loved is, for some of us, a lot harder than learning to love. Learning to trust that Adam loves me has been one of the very hardest lessons I've had to learn as we've prepared for marriage. If I can't learn it, I know our marriage will be cursed by mistrust and self-doubt.

That's part of the reason I'm so very grateful for my friends in Oxford. I hope they all know what a life-changing experience friendship with them has been.

These are photos from two wonderful evenings with friends from the chaplaincy over the past two days. I'll try to post pictures with other friends soon. You're all loved, too!

A Guilty Registry Pleasure

2009-06-11T16:41:00.003-04:00

I've posted before about the crisis of conscience Adam and I had about registering. I'm afraid I've moved a bit beyond the moral stage. Once I realized that I was making a list of things that we really needed, or things we could use to have fun with friends, registering suddenly became a lot more fun.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I discovered Amazon.com, too, will make a donation to Habitat for Humanity whenever someone purchases something from a registry. Free license! I'm afraid I've diverted myself from my (now almost finished) dissertation for the last several days with this.

Adam and I don't want to register for things like sheets or towels of napkins rings. We'd like to decorate our home ourselves. But can you think of anything else useful or fun we may have missed?

The Problem of Modern Novels: Howards End and Marriage

2009-06-10T17:59:00.005-04:00

If you've ever asked me if I've read a novel, you've probably gotten my token response: "Is the author still alive?" I just don't read modern literature. The snooty Medievalist comes out and wonders, "If it hasn't already withstood the test of time, how do I know it's worth my time to read it?" Besides, modern novels tend to be bleak, depressing with no uplifting moral at the end. They all seem to be about unstoppable decay or the loss of meaning. I don't want to read about those things. How are they going to make me happier or better?

I picked up a copy of E. M. Forster's Howards End from the Chaplaincy library in a moment of desperation for something to read. Being a modern novel, events were sure to disappoint the idealistic heroines who "desired that public life should mirror whatever is good in life within." When Margaret, the earnest protagonist marries the emotionally stunted capitalist, Mr. Wilcox, the reader can almost be ensured of tragedy. Her plan to love him--because "the more she let herself love him, the more chance was there that he would set his soul in order"--is surely set up to fail.

Imagine my surprise and delight to discover that Howards End is nothing I fear in modern novels. Instead of gradually leading readers into disillusionment with Margaret, the narrator helps us to slowly develop a respect for her quiet strenghth. Instead of agnostically challenging the value of love in a modern, transient world, Forster focuses our attention on the ever-increasing importance of marriage and stability. The titular home, Howards End, isn't symbolic for loss of place, as I originally expected. Instead, it's the place where the protagonists "stop," finally finding rest and peace in their love for each other.

In the end, against all odds--and against all of my expectations for a modern novel--Margaret's love really does redeem her husband. Her sisters describes it best: "You picked up the pieces and made us a home. Can't it strike you--even for a moment--that your life has been heroic?" There is something indomitably heroic about Margaret's life. Loving without counting the cost, with perfect faith in the goodness she sees within people if only someone has the patience and courage to draw it out. Nothing turns out for Margaret the way she plans. But, in her unwaivering support for her husband and her family, she makes a happy life for herself.

Adam says I don't like happy stories, but I think he misunderstands. I like stories with substance and meaning--those just often turn out to be the sad ones. I don't like most modern novels, but I do like Howards End. If Margaret's hopes were frustrated, if Forster affirmed the futility of human relationships, it would be a far less true book than it is the way it stands. Margaret has a happy ending, even though its nothing like she expected. And its because she had the courage to love.

Oxford: A Reflection on Gratitude

2009-06-09T17:00:00.006-04:00

A priest recently assigned me to sit and think of the people and experiences I'm grateful for in Oxford. I suppose it's a really good exercise for life, to accept where we are and love life the way it is. So, here's a list (in no particular order) of some of the things about Oxford I'm most grateful for:

Oxford is truly beautiful. I've never lived somewhere with this much architectural beauty--and probably never will again. It's taught me to pay more attention to beauty in my daily life, not to overlook it as common-place.
For the first time in my life, I have a wonderful group of female friends. Making female friends has been a real challenge for me all of my life. I feel so immensely grateful for the women I've met here and their acceptance.
I've been a part of a wonderful Christian community this past year. I prayed so hard for one last year. I often felt lost and alone. This year, I've felt the love and support of the Catholics and the chaplaincy and many of my Christian coursemates.
All of my coursemates are awesome and amazing. I'm always grateful for the chance to be around other clever people. It helps me keep my own life and education in perspective.
CLC has changed my life.
I would never have gotten involved in ballet if it wasn't for the Oxford University Dance Society. Dancing on stage was an amazing experience. I am strong and flexible as I've ever been. And I've learned to truly love ballet, as a performer and a spectator.
I'm so glad to have been able to learn so much about English culture! Beans on toast... Doctor Who... tea... But I'm grateful for the subtle ways being in England has affected my American psyche. I don't feel rushed urgency the way I used to. It's a habit I hope I can keep.
Most of all, I've made friendships that I hope will last a lifetime. So many of my Oxford friends have already changed my life.

The last week has been pretty difficult. I'm feeling desperate to finish my dissertation, be with Adam again, and to get on with my life. But this is my life right now. And it's beautiful.

(Sorry for the quality of the recording of my favorite pep song. They sound WAY better on the CD!)

Regret

2009-06-08T14:10:00.003-04:00

If being away from Adam has done anything for our relationship, it's better taught me the value of every moment with him. So, on those days I miss him the most, it's easy to get bogged down in the times I've wasted his affection or a moment I could have shared with him.

The worst are the memories of times I was cruel. I laughed a haircut he got to make me happy. I used his sweaters, the ones I liked the least, to mop up mess from the exploded dishwasher. I almost threw a shoe through his window. These are all funny stories now, but tinged with a hint of regret. God gave me a moment to love and I said no. There's no going back.

But I regret, too, the moments I wasted with Adam, back when we had all the time in the world together. The days neither of us did anything wrong except not enjoying each others' company. He made a picnic for me on a day I wanted to go to a movie, so I pouted. I offered to take him to see Tommy, but he wanted to stay in. Believe it or not, one of my biggest regrets is not taking him up on a dinner to Carrabas before we started dating. Those are moments, moments that could have been special but have been lost forever.

I guess we're lucky. We know now what are lives are like without each other. We've decided we don't like them that way. I hope that, even as the years pass, we'll remember how much every moment together used to mean to us. Life really isn't the same without him.

In a fairy tale my mother used to read to me, a father failed to understand his daughter's claim that she loved him "more than meat loves salt." I do love Adam more than meat loves salt and my life lacks savor without him.

Sing-a-Long Sound of Music

2009-06-07T17:55:00.002-04:00

The Sound of Music always, always makes me cry. It always has. But, one of the remarkable testaments to the true power of the film is this: I never cry at the same moment twice.

When I was very small, I cried when Mr. Von Trapp sings Edelweiss. It was a lullaby my mother sang to me. It always chokes me up to see a man crying.

When I was a teenager, I cried with Rolph abandons Liesel and reports her family to the Nazis. There isn't much more terrifying to a teenager than true love gone so horribly, horribly wrong.

A few years ago, I cried when the Mother Superior sings Climb Every Mountain. "Maria, the love between a man and woman is holy, too," she reassures Maria. I love that moment. What a powerful testament, even in the midst of a convent, how precious married love can be.

But last night, for the first time, I cried at the wedding scene. All out cried. I cried when the nuns walked Maria into the church, passing her off to her new step-daughter. I cried when Captain Von Trapp patiently waited at the altar for Maria to walk down the isle. I cried at Maria with her gorgeous dress, all of those well-wishers watching. And I cried when they both knelt in front of the bishop, with Liesel as a witness, to join each other in marriage.

Adam once laughed me for how hard he expects me to cry at our wedding. At the time, I wrote him off. But I think he may be right. Weddings are so beautiful, so meaningful... even when they're someone elses. I don't quite now how I'll respond to my own.

Seinen Anime... or More Marriage Advice in Another Unexpected Place

2009-06-06T02:18:00.007-04:00

While I'm on the subject of bizarre cross-cultural relations, I may as well bring up another favorite anime/manga, Saikano.

The plot of Saikano sounds about as ridiculous as Onegai Sensei, but the story is much darker. It's about a high school couple in a small Japanese town struggling to cope with life as the world slowly comes to an end--with more of a whimper than a bang. Soon into their relationship, Shuji discovers that the Japanese military is gradually turning his girlfriend, Chise, into a weapon of mass destruction. "The Last Love Song on This Little Planet." That's the subtitle of the series and an adequate summary of what happens next. The world collapses around them as the two fall more and more deeply in love.

Because of it's genre--men in their twenties and thirties are the target audience for seinen manga--it still has a lot of graphic sexual imagery. Also some dialogue nuggets like, "You look nervous. Here, touch my breasts." But, as the story progresses, Shuji learns to reject the part of himself that only wants a physical relationship. More and more, he comes to crave companionship and a meaningful relationship with Chise--all the while, she struggles to remain human enough to reciprocate.

The anime isn't available subtitled in English online, but you can also read my favorite manga chapters here. Shuji and Chise attempt to run away from the military and lead a normal life. There aren't many inhabited towns left, but they find a small fishing village and set up house there. They live together "as man and wife," enacting the future together they so desparately crave. Shuji has to work to support Chise as she gets more and more ill without the military's mechanical support. She's taken care of him, protected him and their town for so long--for the first time, he can take care of her. He watches her body fall apart, revealing the monstrous machine underneath, and he loves her anyway. And, to the end of the Earth, the both remember their time together as the happiest of their lives.

That episode raises some of the same questions I've already been asking about what a marriage is. (See here and here.) Chise and Shuji never undertake a wedding ceremony, but I can't imagine denying that such a couple--so desperately in love, so ready to give their lives for one another, so determined to stay together until the end of time--isn't already married. The series also highlights how important marriage is for basic human existence. Chise and eventually Shuji want nothing more than a home and family. Even when the world is dying, the greatest human tragedy is this: the end of the world means they cannot have a future together.

Again, Saikano isn't a perfect story. But it is a gorgeous story about two people in love, struggling to start and protect a relationship when nothing else is left.

Ecchi Anime... or A Marriage Lesson in An Unexpected Place

2009-06-05T16:57:00.007-04:00

Before I discovered BBC iPlayer, I wasted a lot of time on Google Video watching anime. Fan-subbed anime is a bit hit-or-miss. There's so much really strange anime out there.

Onegai Sensi is one of the strangest. The plot follows an eighteen-year-old boy and his wife. The catch? The groom is still in high school, catching up after three years off with a mysterious illness. The bride? A benevolent alien babe sent to study the education system on Earth which means... she is also Kei's teacher. In the series' first episode, the two get caught together in an accidentally-compromising situation. To avoid Kei's expulsion and Sensei's job loss, the two fiegn a marriage the later validate to avoid suspicion.

Yes. The plot is hokey. And yes, the anime is full of ecchi breast shots and heavy inuendo. But, beneath that, the story is astonishingly frank. It chronicles the very real obstacles Kei and Sensei have to overcome to make their marriage work. This episode is one of my favorites because it captures so many of the dynamic ups and downs as they learn to love each other:

Sensei is more intelligent than Kei--she has to learn not to lord it over him, he, not to resent her for it. Kei still copes with bouts of illness--Sensei has to learn not to undermine his masculinity and he has to learn to accept help from her.
Sensei works full-time--she and Kei struggle to achieve a work, homelife balance.
Kei still likes to spend time with his friends, to whom his marriage is a secret--Sensei has to overcome her suspicions and jealousies. Kei, in turn, is the object of one of his friends' affections--he has to seriously consider his level of commitment to his wife and to disentangle himself gently.
And both Kei and Sensei struggle with their shyness and reserve before they can consumate their relationship.

I'm not claiming that Onegai Sensi is high literature. But it is a wonderful example of how important insights pop up in even the most bizarre of places. In one way or another, Adam and I have already found ourselves learning most of these lessons. For something frivolous, the series is surprisingly insightful.

Overall, I'm glad I've watched the series. If nothing else, it's done wonders in teaching me to laugh more at myself as I learn to be part of a marriage partnership with Adam.

Prayer List

2009-06-04T14:37:00.003-04:00

I can't remember whether or not I've posted about one of our greatest areas for improvement. As comfortable as we are together, Adam and I find it a little difficult to pray together.

Ultimately, I think the problem may stem from the hard time I have praying by myself. It's so hard to sit down and focus for deep, contemplative prayer. This year, doing CLC has been a real blessing. I've learned to pray with and as a community, a lesson I hope to make use of with Adam. But it's something we're still working on.

But there is one way we already pray together that makes me really happy. Adam and I keep a list of vocations to pray for: people who we know are discerning a call to religious life and people who feel strongly called to married life, but just haven't found that special person. I hope I don't sound condescending, but Adam's been such an incredible blessing to me that I'd love to be even a tiny, tiny part of someone else's story.

So, if we know you're looking for someone or thinking about religious life, we're probably praying for you! And if we don't, we'd love to add you to our list.

Being Alone

2009-06-03T17:12:00.006-04:00

Despite all the affected misanthropy of my early life, I really like people. I like being around them, even when my social awkwardness gets in the way. There are very few things I enjoy doing alone. It's so much nicer to go for walks, even silent and meditative ones, with other people--in fact, I started falling in love with Adam on just such a walk, Veterans Day 2003. It's even nicer to read with other people in the room, asking them to explain the funny bits and getting them a cup of tea when they seem especially abstracted. And I find God most easily praying with other people in the room, even if we're all doing it in silence.

That's one of the things I look forward to the most about marriage. Adam's a partner, to share life's moments with me, no matter how small. I'm glad every moment of our lives doesn't have to be an exciting climax. The spectacular and the mundane--it's all a pleasure with Adam.

But again and again during marriage prep we've been warned: you have to spend time alone. You'll go crazy if you spend all your time with your spouse! I guess I understand the principle, but I've often wondered how. What in my life will be as enjoyable without Adam there. Outings with friends perhaps, but that's not really spending time alone. How will I find the strength to be on my own when the temptation of Adam's company is so great?

It hit me tonight: bath time! Taking a bath is the one and only thing I truly prefer doing alone. I love to lie in the bubbles and lose myself in a book for hours at a time. I come out feeling so clean, renewed, ready to take on the world. And, based on the picture I found earlier, it seems I may have always felt that way. It's good to know I've found a place where I can find calm and peace by myself, without missing Adam.

So, I'm glad to have found a compromise with myself, something I really enjoy doing alone. I hope Adam can find his and that I can be as patient and understanding of it as he has been of my bubble bath disappearances when I go to visit him. Is there anything you
really enjoy doing alone?

Ballet... or, Why I Missed Two Days Posting Last Week

2009-06-02T07:47:00.003-04:00

As most of you probably know, last Friday and Saturday marked my first dancing performance on stage in almost twenty years. The experience was exhilarating!

I pushed my body far beyond what I thought my limits of endurance were, which was wonderful. I had a lot of fun, which was phenomenal. But, most importantly, I had a huge number of friends come and support me.

I have to own up that I was a bit bashful about dancing on stage--I'm not a paragon of grace. I'm so glad so many people came and enjoyed the show. Thank you! All of you.

Some pictures are available on Facebook, here. For those of you Stateside, there should be a DVD in a few weeks for your viewing pleasure... or not.

Moved In!

2009-06-01T18:19:00.002-04:00

I've only just finished assembling my new Tesco desk! So ends the six-month epic of furnishing my tiny, idiosyncratic room at the Oxford University Catholic Chaplaincy. I move out in two weeks.

Over six years since I graduated from high school (that makes me feel a bit dated!), my life hasn't really been the picture of stability. I've visited fourteen countries on three continents, seen eleven states. I've lived on two sides of the Atlantic, and in four states. My mailing address has changed a whopping eleven times--try explaining that to the person giving you a background check! I beat Adam for moves, but not by much. Even this year, when we both have the same physical address for two years in a row, we've both moved into new rooms in the same building.

I think I understand now why people talk about "settling down." I love the idea of living in the same city, building up a community I won't have to leave every six months. And I crave my own kitchen to clean, my own bedroom to decorate, my own craft room to liter with fabric and sheet music. I'm ready to carve out my own space in the world, literally. For a tiny pocket of existence to be mine, and to share it with Adam.

I've always been afraid "settling down" was related to "settling," giving up on something you wanted for the sake of emotional support. But I'm not "settling" for Adam--I'm choosing him as the greatest adventure life has to offer me. We're not retiring from life by getting married like a pair of agoraphobic recluses. We're setting up a life for ourselves, a foundation built on the rock, and setting out on the mission God has in store for the two of us--together.

Yesterday, I told Adam I was ready to go home. He asked me where home was. I told him that home is where he is. I don't care if we live in a cardboard box as long as it's a space that's ours to share.

You can read a chronicle of my family's European ramblings here. Pictures!

Hard Times and Marriage

2009-05-31T11:20:00.009-04:00

More than a year ago, I dispatched Adam to read my very favorite Dickens novel, Hard Times. After struggling a bit through the beginning of the novel--Adam doesn't share my a priori love of depressing or straight-forward literature--he returned with a surprising verdict: Hard Times is a wonderful novel about marriage.

His announcement really shocked me. I'd like to consider myself an astute literary critic, but I'd completely missed any significant emphasis on marriage. Sure, the action largely centers around two couples, but surely the novel is about the monetary poverty and suffering of the lower classes, and the mental poverty and suffering of the elite. Armed with Adam's assessment, I returned to the novel over the last couple of weeks. Though I'll stick to my Dickensonian guns about themes of poverty, I think Adam was also right.

"Now, what I want is, Facts. Teach these boys and girls nothing but Facts. Facts alone are wanted in life...This is the principle on which I bring up my own children, and this is the principle on which I bring up these [school]children." These words open the novel and introduce the character of Louisa Gradgrind, the daughter of the speaker and the female partner in one of the two major relationships in the novel.

From a very early age, Lousia's father encourages her to dismiss her emotions and her fancies. She completely lacks experience in love and accepts an offer that would make her father and her brother happy--she marries the much senior Mr. Boundaby, the greatest humbug in the town. Needless to say, their marriage is unsuccessful.

Their loveless marriage contrasts sharply with the tragic love affair between Stephen and Rachel. Stephen, too, is trapped in a dreadful marriage with a woman who became an alcoholic and left him. He finds a long-term helpmate in Rachel, who tends to him with a quiet devotion, knowing that Stephen will never be able to marry her--no matter how much he wants to. Dickens draws our attention to how love makes a sacramental bond far more powerful than an unfeeling ceremony. Stephen gets from Rachel what only a blessed man finds in his wife: "I nevermore will see or think o' anything that angers me, but thou, so much better than me, shalt be by th' side on't." He looks forward to the day the two will be together in the bliss of eternity.

The greatest tragedy of the novel is not this poor couple's--they have hope for the future, even if it is only after death. Louisa has no hope. Her life is meaningless, and she knows it. Her upbringing has ruined her for the vocation to marriage for which her indomitable compassion suggest she is intended. Her father ironically admits this when he discusses Boundaby's proposal with her--"You do not come to the consideration of that question with the previous habits of mind, and habits of life, that belong to many young women." The goodness within her gradually stirs, first as she strives to help Rachel and then as she falls under the influence of her foster-sister, Sissy. But even after she returns to her father's house and her husband dies, she is permanently scarred. All the time in the world left to her "better nature" cannot undo what has been done. She remakes herself as a women children love, but is never loved by a man again.

What does all of this say about marriage?

First of all, love is what makes a marriage. Stephen and Rachel may never consummate their "marriage," but they are bound in a way far deeper than Lousia and Boundaby could ever be. A marriage without love means nothing.

Second, and more importantly, God grants to each of us only one life to live. Poor Louisa's life, the vocation her loving and compassionate nature could have meant for her, were stolen by bad habituation very early in life. To love, to be capable of receiving love, requires a lifetime of continually developing good habits. There is very little in life sadder than an unrealized vocation.

The "Not" Bridal Shower

2009-05-27T16:57:00.004-04:00

Because there are so many people in England that I'd love to have at my wedding, I decided to throw myself a bridal shower and invite many of them. We had tea at the Randolph, the posh hotel where C. S. Lewis met his wife, Joy.

We had a wonderful time. The food was delicious and the company couldn't have been more pleasant. I felt really loved to spend a pleasant afternoon with some of my very favorite people.

I have to own up to being a bit disappointed with the picture, though. Ah well. Not everything is perfect, apparently including my photography skills or the concierge at the Randolph.

A Nicer Story About Adam

2009-05-27T05:13:00.003-04:00

After posting about a dream that could be interpreted as an unconscious annoyance at Adam yesterday, I thought it only fair to post about something I absolutely love about him today...

A friend of a friend had a major run in while doing the right thing. It reminded me how risky it sometimes is to "step up" when something is obviously wrong. Zak was particularly unlucky, but there are few opportunities for interfering with other people's lives that don't carry the risk of embarrassment or emotional trauma.

Because I've known Adam for more than a quarter of his life now (we've been dating for so long!), I watched him grow into a conscientious man who's willing to help others, even when there's a cost. It's been wonderful to realize that he's willing to take these kinds of risks to do the right thing.

I'm aware that last time he did this, I questioned his motives. I was embarrassed that he'd done something very public to help a woman in need. That's not the attitude of a teammate--a helpmate--with a shared commitment to helping others. I hope I can better learn from his example.

Particularly for a woman, there are serious limitations to how helpful I can be. My public sphere of helpfulness is usually limited to offering to call the police--confronting people in public isn't really part of the vocation of a 5'2" female student except under extraordinary circumstances. I'm especially glad to be with a man who takes being helpful seriously. We can use our strengths together to help others!

Wedding Nightmare #2

2009-05-26T16:50:00.003-04:00

Nothing profound to say today, so another wedding nightmare...

With our ceremony fairly soon (just 81 days to go!) the fear that inspired this nightmare has largely evaporated. I think I can manage another less months (less!), but back in March, I wasn't sure I could manage five.

I dreamt that Adam and I decided to get married earlier. Not elope, but to move our proper, full-blown celebration up by five months with only a week's notice. Undaunted, I told him that I would take care of everything. All he had to do was get the priest (Father Bill Gurnee, who is flying in from Maryland for the wedding) to the church by the day of the ceremony.

I worked tirelessly all week to rebook the church, the photographer, the caterer, the band... I called every single individual guest, talked people into flying thousands of miles without any warning. Saturday came. Everyone was there and everyone was set.

"Where's Father Gurnee?" I asked.

"Oh. I called and left a message on his phone a couple of days ago. I haven't heard from him."

Silence. I was so irate! I grabbed his phone and glared at the outgoing calls list. He hadn't even called the right number. It was so unlike him to drop the ball, I couldn't believe he'd done it over something so important. I was so annoyed that I woke up furious with him, even knowing it was a dream.

Of course, Adam would never do anything that careless or thoughtless. He's a wonderful fiance who's been amazingly helpful during the entire planning process! But even though I can hardly wait for the day we get married, but that nightmare was certainly an incentive to try!

Literary Happiness

2009-05-25T05:40:00.005-04:00

Leo Tolstoy wrote that "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." The line is one of the most famous in Western literature. It seeps into the reader's soul with a kind of all-pervading "true-ness." But is he right?

Adam has been making fun of me recently for my choice in literature. I like depressing books where unhappy things happen to characters. I think the only poetry really worth reading is poetry about dejection, loss, and pain. These stories and poems seem to mean something in a way other stories don't. If Tolstoy is correct--unhappiness is a unique, case-by-case, individual experience--how can it be that the literary texts, the ones that are supposed to capture universal human experience, are so often the tragic ones?

There are many poems that describe the way I feel when Adam is far away. Many that capture the fears I have about losing him. But there are no poems that express the way I love him. No poems that encapsulate the way he makes me feel. There are analogies in texts, and I've written about these, but nothing really fits us. It isn't our unhappiness--missing each other like we'd miss a piece of ourselves--that makes us unique. Lots of people spend months, years, or even decades apart from their lovers. It's our love, our own story of our vocation to marriage, that makes us unique. Our unhappiness is shared; we are happy in our own way.

So perhaps that's why I prefer "depressing" poetry to "happy" poetry, if such simplistic labels ought to be applied. Sadness is sublime. It transcends human differences of time, or class, or race so that I enter into Poe's pain, Longfellow's longing, and Hardy's obstinate grip on hope. Happiness is transcendental. My love, my happiness, is intimate, uniquely shared with only one other person. It's our own. We can, and hope, to pass it on to others. But I can only ever share my happiness with Adam.

Am I wrong? I'd love to learn about the positive stories, songs, or poems that you find compelling.

Experiences I Wish I Could Have Shared with Adam #3

2009-05-24T18:27:00.002-04:00

...learning to draw.

I guess this is more of an ongoing process, something I worked on today that I'd like to develop further with Adam later. But I couldn't share an amazing day of drawing in an idyllic setting under cloudless skies with him today.

One of my best friends and I walked down to Port Meadow. Everything and everyone was fresh and vibrant. Cows lolled along, grazing on the grass and gorgeous yellow flowers. Teenaged boys prodded each other into jumping off the bridge into the river. Babies abounded. Everyone was happy and smiling.

You can click here to see more pictures of the day. There are also older pictures of the meadow on less idyllic days here and here.

Epic Fail

2009-05-22T16:27:00.005-04:00

Today I had the distinctively unpleasant opportunity to be reminded of one of my greatest flaws: I hate to lose. I hate not being at the top of the class. Not being the greatest and best at everything I do.

Over the years, I'd like to think I've improved. Now that I've learned to better love and respect the people around me, I'm usually very happy when they do well--even when it's better than me. But I still can't stand the idea that my performance was sub par, that I could have done better.

It occurred to me how dangerous my attitude toward failure may be for the future of our marriage. What happens when something goes wrong? Am I going to try to hide it, pretending it doesn't exist so I don't have to admit I might have failed? Or will I quit? Just get up and leave out of a fear I might not succeed at "this marriage thing" after all?

Of course, failure isn't the same for married Catholics. Divorce isn't an option. But separation is. Even worse, so it deep-seated unhappiness and resentment. My fear of failure, left unchecked, could easily become a self-fulfilling prophecy if it forces me to stop communicating with Adam.

No, I haven't failed anything today per se. I've only disappointed myself. Maybe in the long run it's far better to be reminded of my very human shortcomings in a context where the stakes aren't very high.

Young Widowhood

2009-05-21T17:19:00.002-04:00

One of my best friends went to a funeral today. I wish I'd known who it was for--I would have gone, too. The husband of one of my tutors from last year died. That might not be surprising to you, but it was to me. You see, the tutor can't be more than about ten years older than me.

Her face has haunted me all day. It's terrifying, the idea of being a widow at thirty five. The whole big, beautiful future that floats tantalizingly before me could melt away in an instant. I could lose Adam and there would be nothing I could do about it.

At the risk of trivializing something as serious as death, I have to say that being in love makes me feel just a bit like Edward Cullen from Stephanie Meyer's Twilight saga. "Have you ever thought about how fragile they all are? How many bad things there are that can happen to a mortal?" the immortal lover says of his breakable human girlfriend in Midnight Sun. Late at night, miles and miles away from Adam, it's hard not to dwell on how fragile he is--how fragile we are. Our huge, momentous love that means everything in the world to me now can disappear in the moment it takes a heart to stop.

I've written before about how morbid and flippant I sometimes find Adam's attitude toward death. "We all die when we're meant to die," he'll say. In some ways, it's the sentiment of someone who's never really suffered the loss of a loved one. But, in others, he's profoundly right. Part of the reassurance of being a Christian, particularly in a tradition that puts so much focus on vocation, is my faith that God has put Adam on the Earth for a reason. As much as it hurts me to think that reason might not include raising children and growing old with me, that's a fact of life I have to accept. If it's true that whoever tries to save his life will lose it, it must also be true that whoever clings to the life of a loved one will never take as much joy from their relationship as God intended.

I know none of this would help my tutor, surely grieving from her terrible loss. But I hope you will join me in keeping her, her husband, and their family in our prayers.

Wedding Hymn

2009-05-20T17:43:00.003-04:00

Because Adam and I are having a nuptial service instead of a Mass, we only get one hymn. For two people who love to sing, that's a bit of a disappointment. And a lot of pressure to pick just the right one.

We went through a long list of hymns. The "wedding hymns" in most hymnals are pretty spectacularly awful. We also wanted to be sure to choose a hymn which my Southern Baptist relatives would know. After two months of searching, I'd almost decided we should cut the hymn all together.

That's when I remembered a scene from one of my very favorite films, Little Women. Meg March marries on a bright spring day. The entire family walks around the happy couple, singing a hymn of thanks to God, "For the Beauty of the Earth:"

For the beauty of the earth,
For the beauty of the skies,
For the love which from our birth
Over and around us lies,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For the beauty of each hour
Of the day and of the night,
Hill and vale, and tree and flower,
Sun and moon and stars of light,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child,
Friends on earth, and friends above,
Pleasures pure and undefiled,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For each perfect gift of thine,
To our race so freely given,
Graces human and divine,
Flowers of earth and buds of heaven,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For thy Church which evermore
Lifteth holy hands above,
Offering up on every shore
Her pure sacrifice of love,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

It hit me! What a perfect hymn! It perfectly summarizes our feelings of gratitude and love for one another and the God who made us for each other.

Of course, it's a bit long as it is. We'll almost certainly cut verse five. Which other one should we cut? The verse about human love is the least poetic sounding but, as my mother pointed out, fairly perfect for a wedding. What do you think?

Either way, I'm very excited about the idea of singing this song to God with Adam and with my family on our wedding day.

PS: The hymn only plays at the beginning o Don't watch the entire clip unless you like to cry.

Friends Abroad

2009-05-19T17:17:00.002-04:00

Adam and I have friends in many, many different places. That's one of the consequences of our unusual, long-distance relationship. I've lived in four states and two countries in the past three years; Adam, about the same. But very few of our friends are left in the city where we're getting married.

It's a bit bizarre planning a wedding to which you expect very few of your friends to be able to come. The reception promised to be fun, but with an unusually venerable group of attendees. What kind of music do you choose when the average audience-member is likely to be closer to fifty than thirty? And to whom do you throw the bouquet when the only "maids" at your wedding are your bridesmaids? I love my family. I'm excited to celebrate with them. Still, I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that so many people I care about would be excluded from our big day on the basis of sheer distance. Adam and I have always been a bit too self-conscious about friendships to presume on anyone's time or dime by inviting them to our wedding from so far away.

That's why I've been truly amazed by the outpouring of support Adam and I have had from our geographically-diverse friends:

A few of my friends in England made it clear they expected to be invited. What a wonderful way to make me feel loved! They knew how much it meant to be and took for granted they would do whatever they could to come.
An impressive number of people from DC have volunteered to travel by planes, trains, and automobiles the five hundred miles between Washington and Atlanta. We haven't lived in DC for two years, but our friends share our strong feelings of affection and community. We are so excited to be joining them again.
Encouraged by my success--and a few prods from interested friends--Adam finally broke down and asked his Seattle friends who would like to be invited to our wedding. Again, we've felt so loved by the number of people who want to, or sincerely wish they could, travel across the country to spend the day with us.
Not to mention, of course, Adam's relatives--all of whom have many miles to travel to come to Atlanta--and my South Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi relatives who will be trekking with kids in tow.

Overall, the whole experience of getting married has really highlighted how loved I am--not just by Adam, but by all of our friends and family. Whether you're coming to the wedding, or wish you could come, or have been faithfully following my ramblings on this blog, we appreciate your friendship.

An Awesome Cake

2009-05-18T11:34:00.004-04:00

No profound thoughts today... just an awesome wedding cake that sent my delightfully nerdy fiance drooling.

Notice the intricate detail, including the icing roller in the back. Also the Lego men in bakers' hats.

Too bad Adam insisted we couldn't have a sugarpaste cake. We had to settle for something a bit more sane... and significantly more appropriate for soon-to-be-married adults.

The photo comes from Cake Wrecks, which may be the best useless blog of all time.

Another Medieval Marriage

2009-05-17T17:37:00.004-04:00

Much of the work on my dissertation focuses on the romance Guy of Warwick. The work has provided me with yet another medieval model of marriage, but this time with a few more added questions.

As a young man, Guy falls in love with the king's daughter, Felice. He goes to her and tells her that he loves her, but she rebuffs him. She's a princess, he a mere retainer's son. When he seeks her attentions again, she tells him that she will accept his love only if he becomes the greatest knight in the world.

Guy spends the next seven years traveling in Continental Europe and the Middle East winning tournaments and defending good against evil. He finally returns as the most renowned and talented knight in the world. He marries Felice, the most beautiful and intelligent woman in the world. They are the perfect couple.

Up to this point, the romance perfectly captures my ideal for marriage. Guy's love for Felice forces him to be better, striving to earn her love. It isn't just that he's showing off. He can't just appear to be the best knight, but must become the best knight--with all the qualities of courtliness, moral strength, and chivalry that go with the title.

A subtle allegorical note makes the romance even more astute. Felice's name means "happiness." Medieval philosophers recognized happiness as the greatest good of human life. She's not only the perfect woman, but the greatest good which Guy can ever attain in this life. Who wouldn't love that image of marriage? Guy's marriage to Felice represents a man who has worked hard to become perfectly happy.

But that happiness isn't enough for the romance writer, or for Guy. Just two weeks after they marry, Guy walks alone along the parapet of his castle, staring at the stars. He suddenly realizes what a fool he has been, working all his life for the sake of Felice rather than for the sake of Christ. So he leaves Felice, simply packs up and walks out on a pilgrimage which will consume the rest of his life. He's gone to seek God--Felice and earthly happiness are left by the wayside.

Felice, left sobbing on her own in her husband's extended absence, struggling to do good on her own: the most terrifying image of marriage I can imagine. She's been tossed aside by a husband who goes to seek a greater good. Their marriage has been insufficient. It hasn't brought Guy any closer to God. What a nightmare!

So the romance left me wondering: how realistic is it to expect marriage to help me be better? Why are there so few married saints? Is it really that hard to be married and holy, so hard that Guy had to leave Felice?

Adam and I want to commit ourselves to a life of doing good and seeking God together. I can't imagine the pain it would cause both of us if either struck out on his own her own. We hope our felicity will lie in our marriage to each other and, in loving each other, we can grow closer to God.

Experiences I Wish I Could Have Shared with Adam #2

2009-05-16T18:07:00.005-04:00

My mother raised me to find time to volunteer, no matter how busy I am. The objective was clearly to help people, but my most recent volunteer activity is more fun for me than anything else. Who wouldn't want to spend a Saturday afternoon helping English children try on chain-mail or make paper samurai helmets? That's just how fun it is to be an Oxford University Museums volunteer.

Today I did something new... I helped kids dissect pigs' eyeballs. As squeamish as I know Adam can occasionally be about his eyes, I would have loved sharing the fun I had today with him. Adam loves helping people learn things! And these children were really, truly engaged in learning about the eye. Volunteering is something I really look forward to sharing with Adam!

If you're in the Oxford area, I strongly recommend volunteering with OUM. You can find out more about it here.

Offbeat?

2009-05-15T03:28:00.004-04:00

I recently discovered a new bridal blog, offbeatbride.com. I don't really like as much as Weddingbee, about which I've posted a great deal, but it's still a fun diversion from writing my dissertation. Most of these weddings are so bizarre and so far-out it's difficult to take them seriously.

Then imagine my surprise when I discovered that, from their perspective I'M AN OFFBEAT BRIDE. Why? Because I'm planning to wear my glasses on my wedding day.

I HATE contact lenses. I hate the wear they adhere to my eye. I hate the panic that sets in when I can't get them out. And love the way I look in my glasses. They offset the roundness of my face and make me look generally a bit more clever.

Does that really make me offbeat? Is it a horrible idea for me to wear my glasses on my wedding day? Here's a picture of my AWESOME glasses. What do you think?

Camera Shy

2009-05-14T07:08:00.000-04:00

For most of my life, I've looked pretty rubbish in photographs. That's why paying lots of money for a pretty dress and a nice photographer makes me feel so nervous: I may well turn out looking frumpy and uncomfortable anyway.

There's really only been one photographer in my life who has made me feel comfortable in front of the camera, my friend Anne Abarr. She took my high school graduation photos. I think I look particularly nice in them. She made me feel beautiful and completely comfortable in front of the camera. (She now runs a studio with her husband. You can see more of their work here.)

Anne didn't quite work out as our wedding photographer, but she was really supportive in helping us find another one. No one else in the Atlanta area seemed to have Anne's impeccable taste. After days and days of Google searches, we found Robert Combier. I have to say, his photography is one of my favorite finds for our wedding so far.

When I contacted Robert, I expressed my concerns about our photographs to him. I'm camera shy. Adam is a foot and a half taller than me. And neither of us seems to photograph very well at all. Free of charge, he came to my house for a consultation. He showed me all of his photographic equipment and walked me through the day. He started taking pictures after I'd dropped my guard. I have to say, he got some pretty nice shots. As an added bonus, Robert is a graduate student at Georgia Tech. Adam and I were very excited to support the work of a student like us, trying to make ends meet while doing a degree. It helps that his work is particularly brilliant.

Of course, I understand that part of the process of brilliant wedding photos is learning to be comfortable with myself and the way I look. As a matter of fact, learning how to comfortable position my body was one of my goals when I started taking ballet .That's why I was so excited by the ballet headshots taken the other day in the lead up to our show on 29 and 30 May. One of my fellow dancers, Henry Uniacke, runs a small wedding photography business. He photographed us for our program. Between his wonderful behind-the-camera work and my ballet teacher posing us nicely, he took really beautiful pictures of me. It was a wonderful object lesson in how to have my photo taken.

We're supposed to be compiling a list of photographs we want taken during our wedding. Can you think of any shots we "have to have"?

An Affair to Remember: A Counter Tragedy

2009-05-13T10:36:00.006-04:00

About four o'clock this morning, I finally realized why the plot of Casanova seemed hauntingly familiar. It's because I've seen that story before--two people making their livings off of the misplaced affections of others fall hopelessly, and impractically, in love. That's the basic plot of one of my very favorite films, An Affair to Remember. But where in Casanova the characters' unwillingness to live a life of hardship and sacrifice makes the tale a tragedy, the choices of the characters in An Affair to Remember make it an uplifting story of the redemption of selfless love.

In An Affair to Remember, two people meet aboard a trans-Atlantic cruise. One is an artist-turned-playboy, now engaged to an heiress. The other is a lounge singer and live-in girlfriend of a wealthy businessman. The man takes the woman to meet his grandmother on an Italian island, one of the ship's ports-of-call. While there, they both stop and pray in the family chapel. That moment they drop their guards, see each other as they really are, and begin to fall in love. When the cruise ends, they decide to meet in sixth months. If they've successfully turned their lives around, they will marry. Instead of running back to safety and security, as Casanova and Henriette would have done, these two leave their lovers and set off to become independent, to redeem their past lives of indolence and questionable morals, and to make themselves worthy of the love they share.

That's what love is. They never pine or mourn or even complain about the situation. They give in to the transformative power of love. They take great pride and pleasure in their growing abilities to take care of themselves and to make moral choices. Love makes them want to be better than they were before. And the process is cyclic. The better they become, the more they love; the more they love, the better they become.

That process, of love refining my personality and inter-personal interactions, is what I enjoy most in my relationship with Adam. Over all our time apart, I've gradually noticed how much more difficult it is to be nice to people and to use my time in efficient ways. It's part of why I feel so comfortable in my vocation to marry him: being with him makes me better. Not being with him makes it more difficult to be good.

As much as I empathize with Casanova and Henriette, it's an empathy born of the knowledge that they've made a tragically wrong choice. They've chosen to remain static, unchanged by the powerful impulse of love which leaves people with little choice but to grow better. That's what I have with Adam and what I hope we'll never lose.

Casanova: A Tragedy

2009-05-12T18:01:00.006-04:00

I spent more time than I ought to have today watching a 2005 BBC production of Casanova. David Tennant, of Doctor Who fame, played the world's most famous lover. The chronicle of his youthful exploits was delightful, but it was the frame narrative that really made the mini-series worth watching. Peter O'Toole plays Casanova in his old age, withered and spent. Amidst all his lovers and all his conquests, O'Toole's Casanova ends his life alone and almost forgotten.

In the BBC production, Casanova's actions revolve around Henriette, his one great love, and his inability to ever be with her. The one that got away. The one woman whom he loves too much to seduce. His whole being revolves around her. No matter how many terrible choices he makes, his love for her stands out as the redeeming quality of his life. His enduring, unrequited love, destined never to be fulfilled.

Henriette loves him, too, but craves a life of stability and prosperity. She once vowed to herself she would never live in poverty again, as she had in early life, nor raise children in an unstable environment. For her own sake, and for the sake of her children, she chooses stability over love.

A few days ago, I posted about how irrevocably linked I already am to Adam. From that standpoint, Casanova's struggles become gut-wrenching. I can't imagine a life of constantly reaching out for Adam, barely missing him. Worse yet, I can't imagine Henriette's life--a marriage of convenience to a man she doesn't love, always wishing she could have been with another.

What would life be like, spending it without the one I love, my soul mate? How would my life change if Adam and I weren't set up to be independent? Could I always choose Adam over every other thing? What would happen to me, to us, if I couldn't? These are the questions Casanova forced me to ask myself.

But I don't think those questions give me enough credit. I know what I would choose. I would choose a life of poverty over a life without Adam, hands down. A life of scandal and a life of hardship, too. I could never choose the kind of tragic life Henriette chooses for herself, and for Casanova. I don't think there is anything on this earth more important to me than love, and unity, with Adam. I think that's the way marriage is supposed to work, isn't it?

Wedding Ethics

2009-05-12T03:14:00.000-04:00

Last term, I posted about a "Catholicism and Economics" reading group I've been attending at the Chaplaincy. I joined the group hoping to get a better handle on my own buying decisions. I know that statement seems a bit pretentious, so please let my try to explain.

In a Capitalist market, I, as a consumer, have many buying choices. But with those choices comes a certain responsibility. If, for example, I buy clothes only from stores that mass produce, I'm contributing to the downfall of local enterprise. If I buy milk in a plastic jug, I'm telling milk farmers that biodegradable materials aren't important to me. And so forth...

Ultimately, I've deduced that responsible buying means never putting price at the top of my list of priorities. When I buy something, it ought to be the best value, not the cheapest product available. A hand-made skirt from Etsy might cost more, but it will probably last longer than one from Target--and it was made by a small-scale producer working in an environment where she could take a sense of pride and accomplishment in her work, rather than mass-produced in an impersonal factory.

But knowing price can't be my highest priority is only the first step. I have to decide what does matter to me. What labels do I look for? Sustainable? Hand-made? Local? Organic? Fair trade? On top of that, how much can I cut down on my consumption--period--regardless of a products "localness" of "sustainability"? Suddenly moral buying decisions become more complicated than I ever anticipated them being.

These are the sorts of questions Adam and I have increasingly been asking ourselves about the way we spend our money. It's difficult, but we're trying to take buying decisions seriously. In a Capitalist market, its the best way we have to tell producers what's important to us. The way we spend our money ought to reflect what we find important. That's why we've tried to take those kinds of factors into consideration when planning our wedding.

"Ethical weddings" have come into vogue in the past few years. Dozens of websites, like EthicalWeddings.com, offer brides thousands of suggestions from serving a vegan/organic brownie wedding cake to packing your entire bridal party onto a London bus to save on CO2 emissions. The massive lists suggestions is alarming... and guilt-inducing. In the end, I think it's important for me to accept that the buying decisions I make for my wedding, and my life, are never going to perfectly reflect my values. There's just no realistic way to always choose the "most ethical" product in a market with this many choices. Still, I'm happy with the little ways we've been able to incorporate ethical buying decisions into our wedding:

We hired a local, small-scale caterer and baker. Our caterer is a friend of my mom's. I'm very excited to be working with someone with whom we have a personal relationship.
We chose to have fewer flowers, and flowers which are not difficult to find. By cutting the number of flowers, we saved a lot of money. We were also able to get flowers that are seasonal, which cuts down on CO2 emissions racked up in shipping plants.
We are having our invitations hand-made by an Etsy artisan. As a bonus, she's also using paper from sustainable forests. You can read more about our invitations here.
I bought a dress from a small, local store. Again, going local has been a good move. The shop attendants at Natalie's Bridal have been incredibly helpful. They're even communicating with me over the internet about my veil.
And we've stayed in budget! Adam and I really wanted to stay in budget as a sign of respect and gratitude to my parents for paying for our celebration.

Can you think of other ways we could make our wedding a little better?

A Good Omen

2009-05-11T17:44:00.003-04:00

If you've been looking at ...and Enide's FEEDJIT feed, you may have noticed that we've been getting a surprising number of hits from Google for my post about our Old Testament reading. I finally got around to doing a bit of digging to find out why.

I have to say that I'm delighted about what I found. If you do a Google search for "Old Testament 'Allow us to live together to a happy old age,'" ...and Enide is the second cataloged hit. I'm not one for superstition or omens, but it I love the idea that people looking for such a delightful ideal in scripture find it on our blog.

Variant Readings

2009-05-11T02:16:00.000-04:00

Alison and I are alike in a lot of ways. By the time we talk about most things, we already agree. But whenever we discuss something we’ve read together, we are very different.

I’m a smart person and I don’t like saying banal things. When discussing readings in college classes, I rarely bothered to answer the professor’s questions because I had moved a few steps further. When I spoke out with what I was thinking, I saw blank looks from my classmates. I always thought it was because I was so much smarter.

But I know that Alison is smart, and so am I, and we have the same problem. When we settle down to discuss a book or article, there’s always an awkward pause as we consider all the true but insultingly obvious things we could say. Whoever gives the first opinion, the other invariably disagrees or has to ask a few questions before it makes sense. Starting from the same observations, we arrive at very different critiques. I enjoy that we bore down on different points and frame the reading so analytically that the equally-obvious observations of the other become fresh and exciting.

The whole arc of our relationship has taught us to respect each other so much that thoughts and opinions we would consider obviously (but not provably) wrong come to deserve our attention. There are numerous books, movies, foods, ideas, people that I came to respect only because of a willingness to share with Alison.

If I can be excused for a theological digression, the widening of our realm of acceptance is part of the vocation of marriage. All vocations are a way to experience giving and receiving love as God does. God’s love reaches to all people and all of creation. We can’t grasp for such universality, because we are limited and dependent. But joining with another person invites us to look at from the inside, rather than observing from the outside, the love another person has for creation and share in that love.

I hope that coming to know and love me has introduced Alison to just as much a change of perspectives and perhaps in future entries we can together about the favorite things we’ve learned to love from each other.

Wedding Party: the Mother of the Bride

2009-05-10T14:00:00.003-04:00

Because today is Mothers' Day--at least on the other side of the pond--it seems like the perfect day to inaugurate my long-intended series on members of our bridal party.

The mother of the bride is different than the rest of the bridal party. The parents of the bride are the only people involved in the ceremony about which the bride has absolutely no say. I picked my readers, my bridesmaids, and even my groom... but, even if I did have a choice, there is no one I would rather have gone through this wedding planning journey with than my mother.

Mom has been absolutely amazing! She's spent a lot of time playing intermediary across three states and the Atlantic Ocean, but she's done it without ever complaining. She asks me what I want and then makes it happen--like a fairy godmother, except better. We could never have done this without her.

More than that, though, she's been an amazing emotional support. She's been extraordinarily aware how being overseas occasionally makes me feel like I'm missing out on part of the "wedding-planning experience," so she's gone out of her way to make me feel extra special when I'm at home--particularly in the forms of manicures, "trousseau shopping," and pleasant lunches. She's also the one I call for tough answers about marriage. After almost thirty-five years of loving marriage, she's always ready with honest and helpful advice about starting our marriage off right.

There's no way a simple blog entry could be an adequate tribute for someone who has done so much to make our wedding a success. But in the little way I can, I just wanted to thank her. Happy Mothers' Day, Mom.

Experiences I Wish I Could Have Shared with Adam #1

2009-05-08T16:44:00.009-04:00

After a few days of fairly heavy posts, I thought I'd offer something a bit lighter.

Oxford academic years are divided into three eight-week terms: Michelmas, Hilary, and Trinity. For people who aren't sitting exams, Trinity Term is the fun term. There's a lot of work to be done, but the mood shifts from gloom and panic to a better sense of perspective and fun. That's where punting comes in.

Punting is a lot like riding in a gondola. Well, a bit. It's actually a lot more rustic. Beautiful. Someone stands in the back of the boat and pushes it along the river, steering by using the pole as a kind of rudder. Everyone else lounges in the front of the boat, soaking in the sun--or at least the light glare off the clouds. Adam and I have never had the great fortune to go punting together, but I did have a delightful time punting with friends.

Punting together made it onto a recent "to-do list for life" that Adam made. Hopefully I'll post more about that later. See more punting pictures here.

Learning from each other

2009-05-08T02:15:00.000-04:00

Alison recently posted about her false self, the conscious thoughts that judge her and worry her rather than helping to improve her. I wanted to reflect on one way that we are starting to face up to and reject our false selves, with each others’ help.

Marriage is two people learning to live as one. During our engagement, Alison and I have learned to look at our lives through each others’ eyes. We have worked hard to share the parts of ourselves that we don’t like. I think we expected to need to forgive and work together to improve. That has been hard, but there is something even harder. Sometimes, when you bring up the most embarrassing and horrifying things about yourself, the other person isn’t shocked at all. They think that your horrible secret is the most natural thing in the world. We were prepared to work through the places in our lives that honestly needed improvement, but had trouble with the even harder task of sharing and letting go of the secret fears and judgements that have accumulated after so many years of listening to our false selves.

Alison and I could both improve our lives and those of our friends in so many ways. But shame gets in the way. Those of you who know Alison know how constantly thoughtful and sweet she is. If you’ve never talked to her deeply, though, you might not realize how constantly she is ashamed of small mistakes in her words and actions that she thinks have offended others. I am always at a loss how to talk with her about this. I know that she truly does feel shame, but I also know that the shame comes from the judgement of her false self, which is counter-productive. I am learning to accept the reality of her feelings first, and then tell her that I think she wasn’t at fault and has nothing to gain from guilt over unintentional slips.

Seeing Alison experience this process has also shown me that I need to distinguish between real faults worth focusing on and false shame that only traps me. I have a hard time differentiating on my own. But because I know that Alison loves me and will not condemn me, and because she doesn’t have to constantly hear the running commentary of my false self, I trust her judgement. I can even trust her judgement when she isn’t here. I just ask: if I told Alison this, would she lovingly help me improve by changing my behavior, or would she help me improve by telling me not to worry, to be thankful for the many gifts given to me, and to go do something productive?

A Walk to Remember: or, When Is a Marriage a Marriage?

2009-05-07T10:14:00.006-04:00

I finished watching Doctor Who on BBC iPlayer two days ago. So, when I needed something else to do to waste my time, I found myself fumbling through You Tube for old movies. That's how I ran into A Walk to Remember.

Just in case you missed the 2002 teenage romance, allow me to fill you in. Landon, a popular, somewhat troubled high school boy gets stuck doing community service for his school. In the process, he finds himself spending more and more time with Jamie, the socially outcast, devoutly Christian, minister's daughter. He is initially embarrassed to be seen with her, but slowly learns to admire her quiet faith and conviction to do good. Ultimately, he finds himself in love with her and the life-affirming presence that she represents. She surprises herself by loving him back.

As the story moves towards its climax, it is obvious that something is terribly wrong. "I'm sick," she confesses to him, "I have leukemia." Although he is first devastated and resentful, he resolves himself to helping her through the terrifying experience of death by disease.

What makes the picture particularly beautiful is the way in which he helps her. Earlier in the film, she admits to him that she keeps a "to do list" of all the things she wants to accomplish before she dies. With an unexpected sense of urgency, he helps her with as many of them as he can as her health slowly deteriorates. He takes her to the state line so she can be in two places at once. Her helps her apply a temporary tattoo. He even builds her a telescope so she can observe a comet.

But the most beautiful moment in the film is the moment he asks her to help him meet the goal highest on her list: she wants to get married in her mother's church. She agrees. They marry. And she dies at the end of the summer.

After I finished hysterically crying, the film forced me to think about some of my own less-than-orthodox questions about marriage.

Landon and Jamie truly love each other. Each values the other over his or her own happiness. Their love makes them better, and makes the people around them better, too. They are a part of one another, long before he asks her to marry him. Why aren't they married already? What has the ceremony changed?

As a medievalist, the answer is not as straightforward as you might think. Historically speaking, marriage just requires the consent of two adults in front of witnesses. There are medieval anecdotes of parents who catch their daughters in bed with men. They tell her parents they plan to marry. The parents go back downstairs, considering the marriages valid and binding--which, for all intents and purposes, they were. Even now, the Church recognizes that the priest doesn't administer the sacrament of marriage at all--the couple administers it on themselves. The Church doesn't make two people one: two people decide to become one. All silly anecdotes aside, mutual love and commitment make a marriage, not a priest.

Given that fact, it's difficult to determine what makes the significant difference in what a marriage is if it performed in a church in front of a priest. Landon and Jamie gives themselves to one another a long time before their wedding takes place. And Adam and I decided to become one, to give our lives to each other, a long time ago. I feel irrevocably bound to Adam already. It's virtually impossible to believe either of us could walk away at this point without leaving a piece of ourselves behind.

Obviously there are problems with marriage purely by intention, else the Church wouldn't have bothered to clarify. Marriages require the formal sanction of the Church for our own sakes, to protect the sacramental and legal validity of our marriage. How else can they assure that neither partner is being coerced or misled. Plus, marriage is more than just the formal commitment in ways that Jamie and Landon, and Adam and I, haven't satisfied. I plan to follow the traditions of the Church and to continue talking about and treating Adam as my fiancé, rather than as my husband. Still, the three months that stretch before us seem like an endless formality given what we already spiritually share.

I posted a few weeks ago about what engagement is. I suppose that deserves a clarification. Adam takes the idea of engagement more seriously than I do, but that doesn't mean I'm any less committed to him than he is to me. We are, as I believe many couples are, more than engaged. We've already given our lives to each other. We're just waiting to close the deal.

Please do comment if you have any insight! I know I'm not being particularly orthodox. I'd love to better understand what marriage means.

Wedding Website

2009-05-06T15:00:00.004-04:00

My mother has been religiously checking Emily Post's Wedding Planner for Moms just to make sure she hasn't committed some gross breach of wedding etiquette or forgotten some vital part of the ceremony. I half-listened one January night as she poured through the engagement checklist. "Alison! When are you going to make a wedding website?" she cried.

At the time, I was extremely loathe to create a wedding website. It seemed self-indulgent and unnecessary. But, as with many of my unrealistic and idealistic impressions of wedding planning, the unnecessary website proved unavoidably useful. There's just no other simple way to provide a large group of people with a large body of information--information about directions, accommodations, and registries.

And so, without further ado, I reveal to you the wedding website.

There's also a new, permanent link on the side bar of this blog for easier access.

(The domain name does make me feel warm and tingly! The URL is at www.thesoloves.com. Adam and I have our own domain together! We're almost more official now than we were when we declared ourselves engaged on Facebook.)

Invitations: Check!

2009-05-05T06:35:00.007-04:00

Thanks for all of your comments and suggestions here and on Facebook. Adam and I decided to go with these, made by Etsy artisan Two Silly Sisters.

Invitations were never high on my priority list, but Adam and I are both very happy and excited about these. They're perfect, just the right mix of traditional and contemporary. Elegant, but not overdone. Not to mention handmade by a small-scale artisan on sustainable paper. Exactly what we were looking for!

I highly recommend working with Etsy. We got exactly what we wanted at a reasonable cost without having to go to a big-name provider. (I'm buying the wedding present on Etsy. Shhh!)

Once we picked the vendor and the design, our only real question was what to do about the response cards. 50-75% of our guests would rather RSVP by e-mail anyway. We settled on a postcard design. That isn't too "new," is it?

Now we just have to finalize the wording. It's amazing how careful you have to be with the way you phrase wedding invitations!

Blogging: A Moral Question

2009-05-04T08:52:00.004-04:00

A friend of mine asked me today whether I thought "the sudden and dramatic explosion" of blogs was "a good thing." His question tapped into a issue I've spent a lot of time thinking about over the past few days. What is the value of keeping a blog?

We all know that blogs come in all shapes and sizes. Some make us more aware of the world around us. Others are simply fun. And some are stream-of-consciousness journals, unedited accounts of those willing to bare their souls for the world to see. All of us are asserting ourselves in a vast, world-wide medium, competing for our moment on the LCD screen. What's one more drop in a pond that vast?

In the end, I guess I just like stories. I like to read them, to study them, to tell them, and to write them. Stories mean something. They gives us a vocabulary for understanding our own lives. Sometimes, just reading a story can liberate us, set us free to think about our selves and our experiences in ways we never thought possible. They help us to step outside ourselves, to see our actions in the stories' characters, helping us to understand who and what we are.

Stories, too, shape the narratives of the lives we lead. What teenage girl hasn't pined away for a great unrequited love just because that's what teenaged girls do in stories? Better yet, what child hasn't whispered "I think I can" to herself the first time she rides a bicycle? And what Dickens reader has read the final scene of A Tale of Two Cities without the instant to go and do some "far better thing" of his own?

Best of all, a story has its own, external existence. Romeo and Juliet is timeless because of what it shares with no many stories of tragic love, both real and fictional. Dante's Commedy remains relevant because a struggle with faith is a common human experience. Hundreds of stories get retold on paper and on the stage of the world around us every day. We share the narratives that run through our lives with billions of other people in human history. No two people share the same narrative threads, but those threads create a vast and intricate web connecting all of human history. That's why reading really can make us more human. We all have our own stories. But we are never truly alone because there is never a new story.

So ...and Enide is my attempt to tell my own story--a story I share with hundreds of other people, but told in a way that's uniquely my own. My blog is my quest to find others like me who share tales of prince-like lovers or of conquering their own personal monsters. It's my quest to shape my own engaged, and later, married life into the patterns of Enide, Jo March, or even my parents--patterns that work. And it's my quest to share my story with people still writing their own stories in the hope it will help them understand their own.

No, I don't think that "the sudden and dramatic explosion" of blogs is "a good thing." Or at least not necessarily. In fact, my blog--my story--may not mean what I would like it to mean to anyone else but me. Still, I do believe there is a value in people telling their stories in a medium free from the struggle to be profitable or trendy. And whether they are interesting or not, stories almost always have a value. I hope you, as a reader, continue to find some value in mine.

Love: a first sight

2009-05-04T03:14:00.002-04:00

A number of friends have come into or out of relationships in the past few weeks, or wanted advice on finding a significant other, and it’s made me think back on our early romance. I had pursued Alison indirectly but persistently for months before winter break our freshman year, and she had, at times more or less politely, declined. When we came back, things had changed: suddenly she was stopping by to see me, getting a bit closer, or even tickling me.

We already knew a lot about each other, but when we started dating a whole new vista emerged. Suddenly it was fun to just hold hands, talk for long hours, or see each other first thing in the morning. After that brief interlude, our relationship has changed many times and we certainly know and love each other far more now than then. It’s tempting to say that we were naive and shallow those first few weeks, but I’m not sure that’s true.

When I first started learning Chinese, I was so ready to study and work hard that the first few weeks went by very quickly. Then it dawned on me, like a child who makes the mistake of thinking when first riding a bicycle: “I’m doing it, really doing it!” and a period of self-satisfied contentment set in. After that, learning how much I didn’t know about the language, I found myself stuck in self-effacing despair.

Those two feelings alternated for many years, and I thought they represented the full range of possible attitudes toward the language. But the two apparent opposites, contentment and despair, actually both share a common antithesis: love. Both enjoying my language skill and being humbled by my lack of skill have in common that they are focused on me. When I stop worrying about myself, I can simply love the language, both the parts I think I know and those I know I don’t, desiring to improve not for any personal goal but simply because it is intrinsically worthwhile.

It took me a long time to stop creating incentives for learning and just love what I was doing. When I was centered on myself, I used to look back on that first few weeks of Chinese class and think how shallow my understanding had been. But now I know differently: the short time that I simply lost myself in the new language was actually a small foretaste of the wonder and mystery that I have now, really loving what I learn.

I think the first period of our romance was just like that. In the years since, I have often felt either confident or worried about our relationship. But at my best, I’ve let go of those concerns and simply been overwhelmed with the mystery of what I do and don’t know about Alison. In those times, I feel a lot like the first week we were dating and just enjoy being with her and learning about her.

Love is choosing to be absorbed in something else and forgetting yourself. I don’t always succeed; but when I don't, I remember that first time that I was absorbed in Alison and make an effort to once again let her amaze and mystify me.

My "Not Me"

2009-05-03T16:59:00.004-04:00

Hello, my non-self. Let's get something straight here: my friends don't hate me. You hate me. Go away. I don't like you. I am not the person you want me to be, and I will never be the person you want me to be.

A friend of mine wrote a very interesting blog post a few weeks ago about her "not me." She defined it as a part of herself that occasionally takes control , convincing her that she is unloved and unlovable. I thought the phrase was profoundly true and helped me to explain some of my own experiences.

You see, I have a not me, too. She cyclically affects the way I treat other people, making me grumpy, irritable, and even less tactful than normal. She also makes me cry at the drop of a hat. Worst of all, though, she tricks me into an exaggerated perception of how unfit I am for human companionship. Suddenly, the friendships I felt to be strongest just the day before are threatened: any moment, my closest friends may figure out who I really am and leave me on my own.

In five and a half years of dating, Adam has never gone anywhere.

In fact, it's largely to his credit that I've learned that the "not me" never tells the truth.

Adam used to fight with the "not me" all the time. It isn't his fault. He simply didn't know she existed. I finally admitted her to him. I expected him to bitterly put up with her a few days a month at best or break up with me rather than go through the trouble at worst. He did neither. Instead, he's shown love and support for me at almost every opportunity. He watches for her, for the moments I feel unloved or unworthy, and treats me with a special respect and kindness. He even gently helps me keep my grumpy behavior in check, knowing how painful the memory of it will be to me later.

The best part is, Adam has never once denied that the "not me" exists. He never scoffs at me, or jokes about my "woman troubles." He knows that my feelings and fears are, no matter how artificial, absolutely real to me in the moment. He never ignores the "not me." And he never shows any resentment toward her. He loves her because he loves me, and she's a part of who I am.

"Not me" is a part of my life that may never go away. But because Adam loves her, I, too, have stopped dreading her return quite as much as I once did. It helps to have Adam's outside perspective that, no matter how bad things seem now, everything will be normal again in a few days. Besides, knowing that Adam loves even this worst facet of myself means that my greatest "not me" fears will never come true: with Adam, I'll never truly be alone.

Bridesmaids' Gifts

2009-05-03T02:59:00.003-04:00

I've been loathe to post about my very favorite DIY project for the wedding because my bridesmaids are more likely than anyone else to read my blog... I think. But I'm so excited I just can't resist!

Because I live so far away from my wedding venue, I've had a really difficult time putting as much of a personal touch on my wedding as I would have liked. In an ideal world, I would have had time to find a second-hand or vintage dress. I could have learned to make my own veil. And Adam and I could have made our own invitations. But, if our wedding is a projection of our relationship, it certainly makes sense that I ought not lament the fruits of our long-distance love.

Still, the result of my DIY-longing has been a manic and focused attention on my bridesmaids' gifts! I want to say "thank you" to four of the most amazing women in my life in the most personalized way possible.

Without giving too much away, I decided to use English culture as the starting point. I've picked out a very personal gift for all four of my bridesmaids. Each one is getting something "quintessentially English" that either fits her personality, or that references a funny story from our past together.

That's obviously not the handmade part. I'm also scouring the Internet for fun ways to present pictures to them. I have an idea for cute photo frames, involving bridal magazine cut-outs, but I'm still looking for the one, perfect personalized present. Any ideas?

A Mixed Marriage?

2009-05-02T16:50:00.003-04:00

Time and time again over the past few months, I've excitedly invited a friend to join Adam and I in our new, Washington, DC home. Most people face me with blank stares or, at best, a sort of vague threat: "Don't say that if you don't mean it." My friends don't seem to realize how fundamentally important hospitality is to me, and to Adam.

Even though Adam and I are of the same race and the same nationality, we come from rather fundamentally different cultures. I'm from the American South, while he's from the American West with Yankee parents to boot. Still, Adam violates every Southern expectation of Yankee behavior on at least one point: hospitality.

Southern hospitality is one of my very favorite features of my culture. It's generosity and communal spirit in action in a vitally important way. That why it's so very important to me that Adam is not just an excellent host, but one who enjoys it. For both of us, sharing our food with other people is energizing and uplifting, as is opening our home to others.

When Adam and I sat down to think about our priorities in marriage, it made me really happy that we both included having an open, welcoming home on the list. That's part of the reason we chose our New Testament reading, from Hebrews 13: "Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unwittingly entertained angels."

And, for the record, our home will always be open to you.

Wedding Nightmare #1

2009-05-02T04:07:00.002-04:00

Adam and I both have been having enough nightmares about our big day that I thought it was high time I started blogging about them! I'll try to catch up and keep up with some of the other nightmares we've had. Here's one from last night:

I dreamed that I went for a walk down by the beach(?!?) with my friend, Ellie, right before the wedding. Before we knew it, I was late for the ceremony! We ran up to the church and I lept into my dress, only to discover that it wasn't mine. It was a 1980's monstrosity, completely with long, sticky lace sleeves (our wedding is in August) and huge puffs on the shoulders. To top it off, the dress was several sizes too big and in great danger of falling off.

Because we were so late, I bit the bullet and decided the show must go on. My father walked me down the aisle... but where was Adam? The priest started the ceremony, but still no Adam. Finally, I turned around to look for him. He was running around the back of the church like a madman. In khaki pants and a t-shirt. Adam has completely failed to find a suitable tux!

I ran back down the aisle while the priest continued the service(?!?). Adam and I spent the rest of the ceremony desperately hunting for a tux and calling the bridal store in the vain hope they could bring the right dress in time for our photographs.

Strange, huh? I suppose the worst part is that, in the dream, Adam and I clearly got so distracted about the externals for the ceremony that we completely forgot about the part of the ceremony that counted: our pledge to each other.

Invitations

2009-05-01T11:47:00.008-04:00

Since my mom knows, well, everyone in the town in which Adam and I are getting married, wedding planning has essentially been a breeze. We didn't painstakingly select a caterer or a baker--we used Mom's. Of course, our lack of experience choosing from amongst a large number of candidates has made selecting the few vendors we did have to pick from scratch a bit stressful.

Needless to say, when my mother's printer fell through as a possible source of wedding invitations, chaos reigned. After flirting with the idea of hand-writing them (seemed smart, until we realized we need about 100), Adam and I decided to post a request on Etsy.

For those of you unfamiliar with Etsy, please allow me to explain. Etsy is an on-line marketplace for homemade and vintage crafts, the source for everything from Victorian wedding hats to reusable sandwich bags. I really like Etsy because it's a great political statement. It is possible to shop small, local, and handmade without breaking the bank. It's a positive moral choice... plus everything at Etsy is about 75% cuter and 100% more original than anything you can find at "High Street" shops.

We asked designers to create a simple, elegant--but fairly traditional--invitation in champagne and burgundy. Eco-friendly materials would be a plus. We also gave them a link to my blog to give them an idea what Adam and I are like. And (cringe) we asked them to help us figure out how to do invitations, RSVP cards, and information cards all for a reasonable price.

So far, so good. We've gotten about thirty artisans willing to run our invitations in the last few days. After I rejected bids from anyone breaking our price limit, we still have about ten choices left.

All of the ideas they've sent me have been absolutely gorgeous! Sorry there aren't more specific pictures, but these are the best options so far:

This one may be my favorite. It really captures the simplicity I was going for.
This designer didn't post a picture, but she melted my heart by suggesting a design with medieval fonts in our color scheme.
This designer didn't suggest anything specific, but her work is gorgeous! See anything you like?
This designer has the most eco-friendly designs.
This designer says she has a design with a perforated RSVP card that detaches from the invitation to save money and paper. I think it sounds like a great idea. Chic or too much?

How does one choose between invitation designs? Do you have a preference? What about advice for narrowing the field?

If you fall in love with one of our proposals, please contact the seller yourself. Part of my purpose in posting this entry was to promote Etsy awareness and show off some really beautiful art. Besides, you might help us narrow the field by at least one.

Flippancy and Swine Flu

2009-04-30T19:24:00.002-04:00

Adam's attitude toward tragedy and death has always been an annoyance, and a bit of a concern. Who wouldn't wonder about a true lover who could stone-facedly speak about your hypothetical death as "God's will." I share my deepest, most painful paranoid delusions about losing him with him and he responds, "Well, I'll be happier with God anyway."

On reflection, I know he's right. Infuriatingly right. But it's never made his attitude any easier to bear. I want the idea of losing me to be painful to him. How else do I know he really cares about me.

The mass hysteria about the swine flu has really opened my eyes to his way of thinking. I hate feeling helpless, but there is so little I can do about a global pandemic that it seems silly to even waste time thinking about it. The English National Health Service speaks about a global flu pandemic as inevitable. Why worry about what I can't stop.

From within this context--facing a frightening, world-wide disease I cannot stop--Adam's attitude suddenly becomes clear. It's not that he doesn't, or I don't, care about what happens. We love each other, the life we're going to live together. But why spend time worrying about what we can't stop? And what's the point of believing in a God who saves and a perfect afterlife if I'm going to fear death?

Honest Blog

2009-04-29T18:37:00.003-04:00

As you may have noticed, I've been doing more and more reading at Wedding Bee. They've got a nice balance of bits-and-bobs posts about wedding planning and serious posts about "marriage planning," so to speak.

This post really spoke to me. The blogger's concern about how her own personal failings might affect her marriage seem really familiar.

Sometimes I just want a knight. I want to be saved. I want to be needed and wanted and adored. I want someone to think of me first. I want someone else to figure things out. I want to be cherished. I want someone to come to my rescue. Unfortunately, those times seem to be when my beloved wants all those things too...

I've posted about my favorite story of knighthood, Erec and Enide nore comprehensively before. Erec and Enide are lovers in a medieval French romance. Erec wins a tournament, defends Enide's honor, and they are both happily married. But, years later, Erec discovers that Enide doesn't think he's quite the man he once was. Together, they set out on a grand quest to prove Erec's prowess. Along the way, they learn many valuable lessons about themselves, and each other.

Adam really is my knight, my Erec. Like Enide, I've had to gradually learn to trust him. Like Enide, I've had to learn never to undermine his masculinity by doubting his willingness or ability to take care of me.

He's had to learn lessons, too. Like Erec, he's had to learn that simply being a masculine hero isn't enough. Like Erec, he's had to learn that I'm not just his lover--I'm his partner.

But perhaps the most important lesson is the one we've learned together: even though they have different needs and desires they don't always understand, Erec and Enide are always best when they're putting their lover ahead of themselves. We both want to be loved and cherished in our own special way. We'll be happiest when we do that for each other.

What Does Engaged Mean?

2009-04-29T15:49:00.003-04:00

Last night, Adam and I discussed applying for an apartment. My job for next year is more nailed down than his is, so I may need to apply alone for the time being. Of course, many apartment complexes require a certain amount of money in the bank as a kind of collateral for their residents. After two years at Oxford, I don't have a dime. Adam's response? "That's okay. I'll just give it to you."

Whoa. It suddenly hit me just how much more seriously Adam takes engagement than I do.

I would be dishonest if I said I didn't find my commitment to Adam serious and binding. But in my family, debate isn't over until both parties have said "I do." We celebrate how a father reminds his daughter, just before her big procession, that the marriage doesn't have to go through. Engagement is just a period for wedding planning.

It's not that Adam would try to take me through divorce proceedings if our relationship fell apart in the next three and a half months. It's that, for him, asking me and receiving my consent seems to have made marriage a pretty "done deal." We're not just wedding planning. We've started our lives together. Marriage is the next step on a journey that will last a lifetime.

For someone like me, always a little afraid my friends will figure out how annoying I am and leave at any moment, Adam's attitude is extremely liberating. He loves me and he's already serious about spending the rest of his life to me. Which is good, because I'm serious about spending the rest of my life with him, too.

Showers

2009-04-28T17:31:00.006-04:00

I've had a number of really awesome experiences in the last couple of weeks. One of these was my "week of showers," a week of wedding-dress fittings and bridal parties like no other.

I've already written about some of the moral qualms Adam and I felt about wedding and shower presents. But seeing the looks of love and generosity on the faces of so many friends and family members laid most of those reservations to rest. The rooms were full of people who really care about us and who really wanted to help us provide for our future! We're grateful for their generosity, for the generosity of my Aunt Donna and friend Linda Summerlin who planned the events.

Favorite gifts? Too many to name! But they do include a Royal Albert tea setting for four, a new Cuisineart food processor, and a Black and Decker tool-kit (mine, not his).

The Black and Decker tool-kit was a brainstorm I had a few weeks before the shower. I added as many practical, "non-traditional" things as I could think of: a picnic basket, board games, an herb garden. Can you think of anything else "non-traditional" that might make a nice registry addition?

The Veil

2009-04-27T20:14:00.005-04:00

I don't normally seek out advice on this blog, but it's worth a shot.

My mom laughed at me when we went dress shopping because every dressed had to be matched with a veil before I felt "like a bride." A long, flowing veil adds that mysterious charm, the once-in-a-lifetime allure or a bride. Not mention a veil is traditionally the symbol of a woman's purity. To me, the veil makes the dress.

When I went for my fitting, I found the most gorgeous, cathedral-length lace veil. Stunning. Mom said my face lit up with they put it on my. Even though I knew the lace didn't quite go with my dress, I've not got an itch for all that lovely lace that I can't scratch.

Two problems: A, budget. That gorgeous, cathedral-length lace veil costs $300. B, Adam. My fiancé doesn't get it. And why bother with an investment that significant if my groom is going to roll his eyes while I walk down the aisle.

He's right about the width of the veil. I'm only 5'3" (ish) and 115 lbs. I need a narrow veil for my frame. But what about the length?

Do we compromise on a lovely, finger-tip length veil like these?

Or do I totally give into his hesitations, and my parents' pocket-book, and settle for a simpler number?

I need to call the bridal store in the next few days to tell them what we've decided. What do you think?

Ballet: The Arisotelian Exercise

2009-04-27T17:42:00.005-04:00

I know I still have entries on our Engagement Encounter pending, but I thought I would write a post I've been meaning to write for a while now as a follow-up to my review of Giselle.

As an undergraduate, I read a lot of Aristotle. I'd like to think that The Nicomachean Ethics and The Politics have played a large and important role in making me who and what I am today. In The Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle brings readers to two important conclusions which I always try to keep in mind. First, the end of human life is happiness. Second, humans become happy by becoming good.

Of course, as anyone who has ever made a resolution knows, we can't merely choose to be good. Choices don't work like that. Every action is really a chance to choose what's good. We become good by choosing the good again and again and again. This process, the habituation to virtue, is the path to happiness in life.

If you've looked at the title of this post, you may ask yourself what this has to do with ballet. I'd never considered the connection either. I started dancing about a year ago, purely on a whim conjured up by one of my favorite animes. I knew Adam and I were headed in the direction of marriage, and I wanted to get in shape. Ballet is a wonderful way to build muscle tone without (if I avoided the anorexic that often plagues professional dances) losing the feminine curves I love in the way I look.

I started dancing and slowly grew to love it. For the first time ever, I could see the changes exercise was bringing about on my body and on my mind. Plus, it's a lot of fun turning your first successful pirouette. Then, sitting in on a rehearsal of the English National Ballet last fall, I realized ballet's real virtue.

Before that rehearsal, I'd never known that every company, no matter how professional, begins every day with a class. And every dancer, no matter how talented, fills each class with the same basic techniques, albeit at greater or lesser levels of difficulty. Every single dancer begins his or her days with plies, simple bendings of the knees. That's it. Ballet teaches by repetition, developing muscle and skill by performing the same movements over and over again.

Viola! Aristotelian exercise. By habituating my body to physical virtue, I found myself suddenly liberated physically in a way I never have before. I'd started this regime to look better for Adam. Now, I find myself stronger, more flexible, and happier about my body and its abilities than I've ever been before.

I think Adam felt challenged and inspired by how happy I was with ballet and decided that was something he wanted for himself, and to share with me. Although ballet isn't so much of an ideal exercise for a 6'6" man with a fused spine, he has found his own ways to build muscle and flexibility. When I saw him a few weeks ago, it was the first time in almost six years of knowing him that he's seemed pleased by what his body can do. It was a real treat to see the joy in his face at overcoming some of the physical limitations which have challenged him since his back surgery almost eight years ago. He's giving such a wonderful gift to me: a strong, healthy body with a better chance of lasting the lifetime I want to spend with him.

Dancing has turned out to be a joy and blessing I never expected. I feel stronger, lighter, healthier, and happier with myself than I ever thought I would. And those things are all gifts I'm excited to give to Adam. So ballet has turned out to be the ideal Aristotelian exercise, leading me to a kind of virtue and through that virtue toward happiness.

If you're in the Oxford area and interested in ballet, I'd like to invite you to our upcoming ballet performance on Friday and Saturday of fifth week. Please e-mail me if you have any questions or would like to purchase a ticket.

Well-Played Medical Information

2009-04-27T11:30:00.003-04:00

This blog post may toe the line between a useful reflection and too much information, but please bear with me. Without going into too much detail, I'm so I'm not the only one who feels plagued by misunderstand and ignorance about some of my personal health decisions. That's why I was so excited to discover the English National Health Service's explanations of NFP, here. It's fair, balanced, and open about what NFP is, why it's safe, and who ought to consider using it. Bravo for unpoliticized health information.

Don't worry. I'm not trying to turn ...and Enide into that kind of blog. I just want to share information that I've found helpful and refreshing on our journey toward marriage.

Marriage Preparation

2009-04-24T09:42:00.004-04:00

I hope to spend some time this weekend digesting our Engaged Encounter weekend over the next few days and to write about it, at least as much as propriety and Adam's better sense of discretion allows.

For now, though, I was impressed by this blogger's honesty and perseverance in tracking down the right marriage prep course. It comes from Wedding Bee, one of the more interesting (i.e. likely to talk about marriage as well as weddings) blogs I've found on the subject of weddings thus far.

Giselle

2009-04-24T03:26:00.005-04:00

Several friends and I went to see the ballet Giselle last night to celebrate my twenty-fourth birthday. Giselle is the "quintessential romantic ballet." It tells the story of a young nobleman in disguise and the naive village girl who falls in love with him. She abandons her betrothed for love of him and then dies of grief when she discovers his identity and meets his fiance. In the second act, she finds herself a member of the beautiful and terrible wilis, ghosts of women abandoned on their wedding day who dance unsuspecting men to death. Even in death, she saves her lover from dying at their hands by prolonging his execution until the sun rises and the wilis disappear.

My friend Tom and I had a rare disagreement about the ballet. He was critical of the young man, just another incarnation of the nobility-loves-then-abandons-peasant motif. Her furtive defense of him is supposed to pique the audience's anger for him and sympathy for her. But I don't think Tom's got this one right.

The choreography of Giselle is singularly playful in a way I've never seen. The first act, the chronicle of the couple as they fall in love, lacks the sultry pas de deux of other ballets. Ballet has ample physical means to portray the attraction of a lusty nobleman to a virginal peasant. Giselle exploits none of it. Instead, their courtship looks like what it is: a perfect visual demonstration of what it is to fall in love.

Her pursues her, she resists. He pursues her with greater zeal, she yields. She turns her happy solo, peasant dance into an integrated pas de deux with him. He seems truly caught up in her, and in her world. When the noblemen discover him, he fiercely resists reclaiming his place among them.

And then there's the way the nobleman responds to Giselle's death. It is far more than Tom's proposed "guilt, but not penance" for what has happened. His pitiful and poignant response to Giselle's body is moving and sincere. Later, it is only because he seeks to keep vigil over her body that he is put at risk by the wilis at all. At the end of the ballet, the nobleman and Giselle's final separation is gut-wrenching as the very-real specter loses form and disappears.

To me, at least, the love between the pair seems very real. The playfulness of their courtship captures exactly the way I feel about Adam. At our best, we are capable of all the gay joility of the dancing pair. Being with him is just that much fun. And the intensity of the longing between them, knowing they will never be together, evokes the way I feel every time I'm separated from Adam--irrepresible longing.

Most importantly, the emotion in the ballet isn't one-sided the way it so often is. In the choreography, Giselle loves and is loved in return. That's the most shocking, and important, thing I always have to remember about the love between Adam and me: he loves me, too.

This clip, from the second act, captures the couple in both their plaintive and playful moods.

Incidentally, you can see what would have happened to Giselle's lover/my favorite moment of the ballet here.

Revolutionary Road

2009-04-22T08:25:00.006-04:00

Although I have many happy things to write about from my vacation (including my first dress fitting) and my trip to DC with Adam (including our first meeting with the priest, an Engagement Encounter weekend, and apartment shopping), I find that it's always easiest to write what's fresh. And I have something slightly less sunny on my mind.

Revolutionary Road reunites Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio in a dark sketch of married life. DiCaprio plays a disillusioned thirty-year old working in a job he hates to support the family he has been compelled--half by his own desire and half by social pressure--to start. Winslet matches him as an independent-minded woman trapped into the life of a suburban housewife that she never wanted. Though the film tends to be somewhat over-the-top and self-indulgent, it encapsulated some of my darkest fears about marriage after the silver plate has tarnished.

DiCaprio's character is a man who has never found his vocation. He suffers through his desk job to support his family. But he doesn't daydream of life as a writer, or an actor, or a teacher--he doesn't have that luxury. Because he has never taken the time to find his vocation, he doesn't even know what to dream for. This gapping hole in his life leaves him undamentally unhappy, emasculated, and unable to love his wife the way he ought.

Winslet's character has dreams of her own. She still pursues them, choosing to act in local theater even after moving down to the suburbs for their children. For her, its less that her own life is unfulifilled than that her husband's is. They can't be anything is he isn't anything. As he loses respect for himself, she begins to question his masculinity and lose her respect for him. The more he resentfully rebuffs her efforts to help him find his vocation, the more estranged their marriage becomes and the further she drifts from sanity.

The real tragedy of the film is how alone the couple is in their search for meaning. Other characters are fundamentally incapable of understanding the couple's complaint. Friends look at them with skeptical astonishment when they discuss their schemes to find something better in life. DiCaprio's co-worker waves his arms, gesticulating, about DiCaprio quitting his job to find his "vocation." In the end, the only man who recognizes the horror of the couple's lifestyle is the mad son of a neighbor. In the world of Revolutionary Road, only the insane look for meaning.

Winslet's character truly thought that he life was going to be special. Not that she was going to be rich or famous, but that her life would mean something to her and to those around her. It drives her slowly mad to watch the man she loves failing to live up to his purpose. Neither of them answer their callings; it ruins their marriage and their lives.

I'd be lying to myself if I denied how much I identify with Winslet's character, or at least the way I imagine her to be when she and DiCaprio's character first married. I, too, occassionally wonder whether I will feel trapped in the life I've chosen. I worry that Adam would choose a life he hated if that was the only way to support me, rather than allowing me to make whatever sacrifice is necessary to help him find and fulfill his vocation.

The mental image is difficult to sustain. Adam is absolutely wonderful. We have a strong vision of what it is we want in life. We've communicated with each other about it and are both prepared to do what it takes to get there. We think we're on the track of God's vocation for our lives. And, in all honesty, I think we are pretty special. But, in the dead of night, I sometimes wonder with Winslet: will my life always have meaning?

I'm Back

2009-04-22T08:24:00.001-04:00

I'm back in Oxford with more time and initiative to think and write. I should be back to posting every day or two. If I have any readers left, please take note.

Showers

2009-04-07T22:04:00.003-04:00

My daily routine is so bizarre and non-standard while I'm home that I often find it difficult to make time to write. I'll do better when I get back to Oxford in two weeks. But, for now, I would be horribly remiss not to mention my two amazing showers!

The strongest impression coming away from my showers is one of overwhelming love. One of my mom's best friends, Linda Summerlin, and my aunt, Aunt Donna, put a lot of visible time and effort into throwing me absolutely beautiful showers. People came and people gave me extraordinarily generous gifts. But more than that, I had thirty people really interested and invested in my life. People who wanted to know where I'm going with my life, who cared about my dreams for marriage. The entire experience was overwhelming. Thank you to everyone who helped make my showers so lovely.

You can view pictures of my showers here, here, and here.

A Love for All Ages

2009-04-03T20:13:00.004-04:00

I try very hard to admit when I'm wrong. I was wrong to condemn Twilight outright. I'll stick to my guns about how wildly inappropriate it is for the reader of its usual demographic, but, for me, the four-novel saga has been eye-opening.

Traditionally, good literature doesn't tell the reader anything more than it has to. It shows the reader. We all recognize that the best kinds of learning come from experience, so it only makes sense that the structure of a narrative does more for the reader than narration itself does. So often, novels that tell the reader outright what the characters are thinking and what their actions mean are just poorly written.

Just imagine, though, a novel writer who completely absorbs the reader in one character's mind. Every minute detail of every perception presented to for the reader's consideration. Every nuance of every decision spelled out for the reader to process. And every sensation of every sense cataloged for the reader to experience. It's a different kind of reading. Not learning by watching, which works so well in the best of novels, or learning by hearing, which ruins so much popular fiction. It's learning by being, by becoming a character within the novel in a very visceral way.

That is why the Twilight novels have meant so much to me in the five short days during which I have finished them. I have become a character hopelessly in love with the perfect man. I have been personally shocked, again, that the perfect man could ever love me. My own heart has beat, my own senses have been aroused, by the mere thought of the man I love. And I, myself, have again been forced to recognize the powerful love which binds us--not just me to him, but him to me.

Twilight hasn't made me enter into Bella Swan's world. Her world has been pressed onto mine, giving me a new clarity of perception about my own life through the oddly fitting analogy between her life and mine. I feel really changed, altered, in a way only writers like Alcott, Dickens, or Stevenson have left me. Bella Swan's tale might not be told as well as Jo March's, but she, too, has become part of the way I perceive myself. I see myself--my weakness and my really quite remarkable strengths--in a new light as something to appreciate. I am different, special, with things I will always do poorly and others I will always do well. And Adam, my perfect match, fits me like a key, his own liabilities and assets working with mine in a truly extraordinary way.

More than that, though, the mastery of Stephanie Meyer's portrayal of the love between Bella and Edward means that, in my eyes at least, Adam is altered, too.

As though I've been turned into a vampire myself, my feelings toward Adam are all heightened and intensified. I feel the physical distance between us in a way I never had before, a physical need to be with my other half greater than any I've ever known. I want him in a way I've never really allowed myself to before, in a way that makes me even more impatient for August. And I may even love him in a way I never have before: Twilight has given me a new vocabulary, a new framework for looking at how and why I will love him for the rest of my existence.

I've penned the words and I feel more at peace. I'm sure the heightened emotions will quiet themselves into something more sustainable, and healthy, as the venom of Meyer's novels works its way out of my system. But Bella Swan has been imprinted into my mind, into the way I see myself. I hope that--and our shared love and desire for our perfect lovers--will never completely fade.

A Vampire Romance

2009-04-02T14:48:00.005-04:00

Because I'm going to teach high school English at a girls' school next year, I thought it was about time I read "what the kids are reading": Twilight. The books aren't literary or well-written, so I'd like to blame my week-long voracious reading marathon on my interest in my future students' reading habits. But I just can't. I'm hooked on a story that, for all its lack of literary nuance, presents a powerful metaphor for the dynamics of a serious relationship and the draw of physical intimacy.

The Twilight novels, Stephanie Meyer's contribution to the over-crowded world of melodramatic teenage fiction, are the chronicle of the romance between human girl Bella Swan and her vampire lover/fiance/husband Edward Cullen. Cullen is a member of a vampire coven which has decided to abstain from human blood. His physical self-control is put to the limit when he meets Bella, whose blood proves an almost irresistible temptation for him. He craves her and that draws Bella to him. When she figures out his secret they work to make a tenuous and impossible relationship work, together.

The closer the two get, the more intense the physical demands of their relationship become. The normal teenaged struggle between hormones and virtue gets dramatically amplified into an intense, visceral struggle between their physical needs and Edward's desire not to kill the woman he loves. The author slowly, and in pain-staking detail, describes every instance of the tension between the lovers.

At the risk of being crass, I have to hand it to Ms. Meyer: she got it exactly right. The deep, difficult, often impossible-seeming task of controlling oneself in a physical relationship with the love of ones life. To read her novels, for all of their flaws, is a visceral experience. She knows... everything. The way my pulse quickens when Adam comes into the room. How my body shivers when he rubs my back. It's all just, well, right.

And, for me, the analogy between beautiful, perfect Edward Cullen and self-conscious, clumsy Bella Swan and the two of us seems refreshingly close to reality. While Adam has no deep secrets, he does share with the vampiric lover an impressive ability to do just about anything he tries. And I, like Bella, sometimes look at Adam and wonder, "How can someone that wonderful, that perfect, really be in love with me?" That's a question Bella spends the better part of the third novel learning how to answer: he just does. As impossible as it seems, love with a perfect vampire--or with an almost-perfect human fiance--can, and is reciprocated. And I suppose it is a healthy reminder for me that, in the novel, Edward constantly wonders the same thing. Adam's look of wonder into my eyes reminds me sometimes that he considers himself as lucky as I do.

All in all, the Twilight series has been a delightful diversion from the heavy reading I normally seek out. Sure, I could never suggest to a teenaged girl that she read the novels without some serious explanations of the physical and emotional metaphors in the novel. But for me, a twenty-three-year-old engaged woman, the novels have proved an escapist foray into some of the ideas I ought to have spent more time thinking about. Maybe fiction for teens isn't quite as dreadful as I'd always imagined.

Other Blogs

2009-03-23T18:49:00.002-04:00

As you may know, I started writing ...and Enide because I thought someone ought to be blogging about getting married, rather than having a wedding. I was pleasantly surprised when my favorite whimsical wedding-planning blog included this entry today. It's nice to learn from the insights of other brides-to-be. And, when my fiance is so very, very far away and there is a major deadline looming on Thursday's horizon, it's nice to be reminded to look on the bright side.

TARDIS: The Choice

2009-03-21T13:56:00.005-04:00

Growing up, I wanted nothing more than to be a part of something great. I dreamed about the day I could save someone's life, discover something new, change the world. So, like generations before me, I read fantasy and watched sci-fi. But the books and films weren't cathartic: experiencing them, becoming involved in their worlds, was physically painful. I wanted so much to do something important. And it never seemed like I did.

If you read my other blog, I'm sure you've picked up on my most recent sci-fi obsession: Doctor Who. It's a show about normal--painfully normal--people who take up 'traveling' with an alien genius who takes them through space and time to change history and save lives. His 'companions' come and go, individuals given the once-in-a-billion-lifetimes choice whether to see the universe with the Doctor on his ship, the TARDIS, or to stay safely at home. I can imagine myself, as a teenager, praying for that choice, praying that my life wouldn't be "normal."

The thing is, my life isn't normal. It's amazing. It's full of people who love me, a community of support and dependency. I'm not normal, either. I'm equipped to live an extraordinary life and, best of all, have a fiance ready and excited to share it with me. For the first time in my life, I think I would say "No" to the Doctor.

I know I go on and on about vocation, especially for someone too young to really know much about it. But my life with Adam seems so exciting, so full of promise. Teaching, writing, making love, making lunches, hosting crafternoons, singing musicals with friends--all these things, now, seem so important. My vocation isn't, I think, to change the world in a revolutionary way. But I hope it is to live a revolutionary life of happiness and simplicity. As bizarre, maybe even cowardly, as it seems to me to say this, I'll take that life with Adam over traveling with the Doctor any day.

You can read more about my minor Doctor Who obsession here and here.

Trip to Italy

2009-03-21T04:34:00.003-04:00

My brain is still a bit too comatose from traveling to have something serious and reflective to say beyond "I really missed Adam." The five days I spent in Italy made up the longest time I've been without having a conversation with Adam, I believe, since the day we met.

Until I come up with something clever to say, I invite you to read more about Italy and my trip on Amateur Anglophile.

We'll be back soon!