Okay, upon re-reading that last entry I realized how decidedly uncool I truly am. Because really, deep down, don't we all just want to be more like Bazima?

Unfortunately, the reality is I'm sitting here in front of my computer on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon, still in my pajamas, nursing a cup of tea, and blowing my nose into what's left of this scrap of toilet paper. Oh yeah, and did I mention I'm still unemployed? Not very glamorous or sexy. Thank god for the internet. I can spend hours reading through the various blogs of individuals much cooler than myself and secretly pretend they're my friends.

Glad I did it, glad it's over.
I don't think there's a way to talk about the events of the last weekend that could adequately express the memories and emotions that the entire experience holds for me. Somehow I think Chris summed it up best when, right after we were married and had slipped off for a moment alone, laughing and crying with the weight of what we had just done he said it felt as if he had just been born.

There's nothing quite like standing up in front of all your friends and family and declaring your most intimate feelings for the person standing in front of you. That was probably the most profound aspect of the whole experience for me. I mean, we've told each other a gazillion times how much we love each other and shared our own secret little whisperings about our dreams for our future together. But to stand up in front of the people that know you and really love you and say, "This is it. This is the guy I'm committing myself to for the rest of my life." To put it all out there on the line...Somehow that's what makes the whole thing real.

On Saturday we were married at the Buddhist Temple in the Thai tradition. And the monk said to us, "You were two and now you are one." And somehow, after almost 8 years together, I can see that that's actually true.

And another thing, it took a whole football team of people to pull off this production. Apparently getting married makes people want to bend over backwards to show you how much they love you. Even if it means getting to the ceremony two and a half hours before everyone else to receive the rentals, or cleaning every dish in your house a few hours before the party, or bringing you breakfast and an US magazine while you're getting ready even though they've gotten about 3 hours of sleep, or agreeing to sing at your wedding about 3 days before the big day. Being the bride rocks. For more musings about the big day by the most holy Reverend who performed our little shindig, check out Bryan's blog.

And now it's off to Yosemite for a week of decompression and communing with nature so we can get back in touch with what's really important.

Well, we did it. I'm blissful and exhausted. The last guests leave tomorrow and I think I'll sleep for about a week. More later.

10...9...8...7...
Since moving here I've applied to well over 30 jobs. Jobs which, and I don't think I'm being boastful in saying this, I am completely qualified, if not overqualified, for. I'm talking the full spectrum from Barista to Program Associate. How sad is it to say that, phone interviews aside, I have had three, count 'em three, positive responses that led to interviews. And to add insult to injury, those three interviews were all for food service. And as if that's bad enough, I didn't even make the cut on at least one of them so far.

The only sign I've gotten, which I'm clinging to for dear life, was in a rejection letter I received from a job that I would have sold my soul for. They mentioned in the short but sweet letter that they received over 200 resumes for the position. Two hundred resumes! So I've finally admitted to myself that I officially have a snowball's chance in hell of finding a decent job for long time. And now that the Republicans have officially bought the state of California, it doesn't show any signs of letting up. Let me just say that grad school is looking pretty good at the moment.

In other news, I am getting hitched in 10 days and I am officially freaking out. Only for the first time in the last 2 months it's not actually about ribbons and china or roses and champagne. Regardless of what you may think, even a woman that has been with her man for what's going on eight years can get cold feet. When the-poor-soul-who-has-agreed-to-marry-me joked that we were not a couple of commitmentphobes but rather a couple of commitment-cautious fools, he surely had no idea what he was getting into. Maybe that's why I decided to plan this whole circus in a whopping two months. Maybe subconsciously I knew that I just had to throw myself out of the blocks and sprint, arms flailing, toward the altar or it just wasn't going to happen.

Fortunately, the poor guy also happens to be my best friend, so I feel at complete liberty to discuss all of this with him, which only confirms for me that he is the greatest man in the universe and also happens to be my soul mate. So regardless of the fact that I'm fixating over just how big his nose and ears are going to be at age 75; and regardless of the fact that I'm starting to have serious doubts about whether he will ever leave my half of the ice cream alone; I will be there at the appointed time and date ready to swear my eternal love and devotion to the-poor-soul-who-should-have-known-what-he-was-getting-into...and I can't wait.

Totally devastated....can't...type....send....help.