#24. things I learned last week:

the training I went through last week was a lot about self-discovery. yes yes, and how to use the MBTI to help others with that whole self-discovery thing, but I really learned a lot about myself. here's what I've got:

1. I actually am an extrovert. I've been off and on about this for years but I've completely proven it now. I love to talk to people, meet people, work with people, do things . . . and I always have, but I used to be shy. painfully shy. really. like, wouldn't speak up in an empty room because I might disagree with myself shy. (that's because of the F part of me, if you're familiar with Myers-Briggs. I'm an ENFP. and I love it.) but dang, you tell me my job is to talk to people and I am off running and loving every minute of it!

2. I HATE traffic. there is not enough money in the world to make me work downtown and have to drive in every day. I am totally open to moving closer -- even into a downtown loft (I mean, if you're paying me, why not) -- but I cannot will not drive through that crap every single day. somewhat related is point 3:

3. I am terrible at directions. and the gps doesn't help (in fact, I'm convinced she's really out to get me. maybe she's jealous. story for another time). Rock kindly lent me Suzie, his garmin gps, so I wouldn't get lost. I also looked up and printed both mapquest and google directions. all this led me to call Rock from somewhere outside love field (north of dallas) totally totally lost. (have I mentioned that I live south of dallas? way south? and west? like, into tarrant county west?) this just made the driving part longer (and added more yelling)

4. parking garages scare the living crap out of me! for real. they're so big and strangely lit and echo-y it just creeps me out. actually, I already knew this. what I learned: an all-underground one? worse. way worse. if some creepo jumps out from behind a parked car to attack you, at least you can't be thrown off the edge, but there will be no one to hear you scream! they made a movie about this very thing (P2. interested? review here) and I refused to see it! (well, more because it looked really terrible, but still, it's the principle of the thing) scary!

so yeah, that's what I learned at my MBTI training. and all sorts of helpful stuff about team-building and leadership training and career coaching . . . but how often will I use that? really?

#19. the "w" word . . .

I’ve been reading the wedding blogs again . . . and the magazines. and the books, websites, catalogues – anything with the word “wedding” will draw me in! even though I know better . . . it's makes me crazy. they’re all the same, even if they think they’re not. oh, I know your wedding is not a contest and that we should liberate ourselves from expectations and that the “evil” wedding industry sometimes makes no sense and that your wedding should be just that, yours, and a way to honor people/ideas/things that are important to you. and all of these brides are so great at doing that . . .

but what if I want a “wedding” (air quotes and all)? what if I want a white dress and a pretty cake (or cupcakes, whatever) and a dance with my daddy and a veil and flowers and candles and rice? maybe I don’t want it all (the bouquet/garter toss? not a big priority. the bridal portrait or engagement pictures? I don’t know what we’d do with them.) but there are things I do want. there are things momma and my dad and Rock’s granny hope to have and see and do. and the happiness of my family is unbelievably important.

I don’t want to spend a lot of money. I fell in love with a gorgeous, reasonably priced location. for an extra price, they offer rental all day & the night before (& a pool!). adding that option makes it out of my reach. but momma wants to spend the extra money for us to have more time to relax. at that price, my total budget will go way up, but she wants it. she wants to buy it for me. and I will not refuse a kind gift from my mother just for the sake of my ego or (worse) so I can show the internets that I too am practical and offbeat and able to stick to a budget.

If it’s not martha or the knot demanding I investigate teeth whitening for my big day, it’s someone else telling me that wanting to wear Vera Wang makes me ridiculous.

I guess either way I’m out the group . . .

UPDATE: I just read Maggie's post for today and feel so much better. Please go see her here.

#17. cause I'm awesome

I applied to grad school about a month ago and haven't heard a breath of a word. until the other day. the head of the department left me a message about some changes in the program, I need to select either thesis option or project option, etc, etc, etc . . . and I start freaking out.

after asking everyone who would stop and listen to me, I decided on the thesis option. (our vietnamese building attendant thought I should. that or I should stop walking on his flowerbeds, not really sure . . .) I called and left the department head a message that I would like to start in the thesis option one but that I wondered about the other and that I didn’t have much information about the specifics . . . and while I was doing this (standing in the super echo-y entryway to my office), it starts raining like crazy, weather sirens start going off & I get all confused, stumble over my words, and forget what I was saying . . . it was awesome.

more freaking out. so, I decide to write her an email clarifying that I am interested in the thesis option & sorry if she couldn’t understand the message, with the weather sirens and such . . . I’m almost done with this email and she calls! I try to close the window & accidentally push send (cause I’m awesome). So she got this half finished email that may or may not actually make sense . . . (cause I’m awesome). more freaking out.

I had a great conversation with her (in spite of the freaking out silently). she thought I’d hear something in the next few weeks & if I get in (she said that part), she will email me more information.

now we wait. and hope that my inability to use email doesn’t hurt my chances. and that super-awesome rambly voicemail I left her . . . crap. I'm screwed.

#9. I do have really cute shoes

{postsecret.com}

my irrational fears:
- using the "accessible" stall in a public bathroom and exiting to a massive beatdown from a woman in a wheelchair who had to wait
- birds
- needles
- not fitting into my wedding dress

no, really. I dreamt last night that my mom washed it for me the day before the wedding and the whole thing shrunk to child size, like a really nice sweater in a cheesy sitcom . . .

this whole thing is irrational because I: a) have over a year until I'll need to wear it so there's a lot of time there for me to figure something out and b) know some really good seamstresses (umm . . . me) in a "worst-case-scenario"

(that and c) my mom hasn't done my laundry since the 6th grade. I know there is nooo way she'd start back up now)

but still . . . the fears swell up time and time again . . .

I just didn't figure the wedding nightmares would start up so soon . . .

#2. ohmmm

So. Rock & I are getting married. Next year sometime . . . (more on that to come)

Rock's brother is also getting married. Later this year. Later this year, in fact, on a date that I had a special fondness for (10.10. how often does that date come up, people? oh, once a year? right . . .)

Rock's brother is getting married about 6 months before us. And today I started thinking:
is that too many weddings? (umm, 2? 2 is too many? really?)
are they too close together? (it's over 6 months. that's a looong time. I'll change my hair 3 times between the two.)
what if everyone just goes to their wedding and not mine? (have I mentioned my lingering childhood insecurities?)

and then, the kicker

what if their wedding is EXACTLY like ours? will I have enough time to change things?

Now, you do not know Rock's future sister-in-law (side note: what does that make her to me? sister-in-law-in-law?) but, let's just say we don't have a lot in common. while I've only met her a few times, she is the ultimate definition of Southern girly girl, but without the blond hair. Let's call her Sparkles.

Sparkles is the Manolo to my Payless. she is the appletini to my bud light. the French manicure to my bitten down nubs. the Barbie to my Punky Brewster. for real. damn good thing Rock is so different than his brother

there is no possible way we will have the same wedding. unless I get hit over the head by the rhinestone fairy and lose all consciousness. I constantly do this "stress over the most impossible situation" thing and then wear myself out in the process. even if we have similar ideas, so what? then, we have similar ideas. is my marriage less worthy or valid if we both use those big Chinese paper lanterns? or if we both have chicken for dinner?

really, isn't the whole "wedding" concept pretty similar anyway? – girl, guy (or another girl. whatev), flowers, dinner, dancing, commitment of live & love . . . ? Ariel at Offbeat Bride put it best: your wedding is NOT a contest! I could use that as my new mantra during yoga . . . my wedding is not a contest . . . my wedding is not a contest . . .

oh, Rock's mom just sent me an email . . . she sent Sparkles my ideas website . . . and Sparkles really loves my centerpiece ideas . . . not a contest . . . not a contest . . . *deep breath* . . .