So a year ago, I did something I never planned to do, in a state that once again does not allow some of the most wonderful people I know to get married to the person they love, and I did it with full knowledge that getting married meant that the next crazy thing I'd be doing would be attempting to get pregnant, on purpose, so that I could have a child with this guy I was getting legally tied to in the eyes of the government. I'd say my 20-year-old-self was likely hitting her head against a wall repeatedly, but even back then, I knew that there was some room for negotiation from zero to one for exactly the right person. Who knew such a person would ever walk into my life, but here he was, standing next to me on the beach in Pacifica on a sunny October afternoon, surrounded by my friends and family, and the most improbable thing I could imagine became reality.
In the year since, I've gotten used to a new name, a new title (Mrs.), and the experience of being kicked from the inside by a space alien. I gotta say, there's not one tiny part of me that thinks this was a bad idea.
Meanwhile, I'm once again enjoying the benefits of lowered expectations. Towards the end of last week, Erik giddily bounced up to me and was all manner of thrilled just because he was going to get to have a one-year anniversary. That I wasn't planning to divorce him in the following week was reason enough for me to be the Best Wife Ever.
So we plotted and planned what to do for our anniversary. We would not be following the "tradition" laid out by the American National Retail Jeweler Association. They can keep their commercial opinions for others. Instead, there would be pie, and a visit to Our Tree in Pacifica and a trip to the California Academy of Science, and then a nice dinner somewhere. This got slightly derailed by an invitation to brunch with John and Becky that we just couldn't refuse. Heck, we'd have likely dithered and picked a much later date without their wedding as incentive. So, we added that in. Then we forgot to take into account the Columbus Day holiday weekend, the 49ers game, and Fleet Week. At 2:45, we abandoned the Academy of Science plan in favor of hanging out with John, Becky, and friends at brunch for longer. We were also stuffed, so we ran errands on the way home, then decided on a dinner plan later in the evening. We went to Vaso Azzurro in Mountain View for nommy Italian (courtesy of a recommendation from Paul Wilcox) and followed that with a trip to Alien Extreme
, a new haunted house thing in San Jose. Alien Extreme had a few rooms that were pretty impressive: (Spoilers - highlight to see) animatronics + vibrating effects in the floor, black aliens on black walls, and a strobe room with bloodied body bags swinging to navigate through
. All in all, a nice new venue. This satisfied my basic wish to do something new together on our anniversary, so I was a happy girl. We concluded the day on the sofa, with Leeloo curled up on my arm for an hour, thoroughly pleased with her universe (blissfully unaware of how her world is about to shatter), watching the latest episode of Supernatural.
Meanwhile, I've passed the 24 week mark on my own alien incubation experiment.
The space alien has learned how to jab me in the ribs in exactly that spot where people reach around to tickle you. This has led to several moments of jumping uncontrollably as she lands the first kick just right. I find myself unable to explain to her why this is a bad thing while I'm driving. So it goes.
Her room is currently empty of stuff with two big test patches of paint on the walls. We've picked a color, and we're planning to paint on November 13th (yes, missing one day of Dickens workshops).
Speaking of Dickens, Michelle Marovich offered me her maternity gown from last year to wear this year. Better yet, she's even taking it in this week to fit me even better. For this, I'm supremely grateful. She built it from several extant photos and other documentation and it's a dress that has passed costume approval previously. All of these things are totally awesome. It's a great dress, well-made, and tailored to me. I can't thank her enough.
Why yes, I am planning to do Dickens this year. One thing is certain - staying active is the key to getting through this with my health intact. That's why I still climb all the stairs at the Clark Center every day before lunch and why I still do ceili every Tuesday and Friday Night Waltz whenever I can. (Plus, the space alien likes it. She sits merrily and enjoys the ride all through ceili, then when I get in the car and sit still, she starts jabbing me in the ribs as if to say, "Hey! Dance, monkey!" Somehow, few people who know me are surprised by this.) Also, by Dickens time next year, I'll have a crawling baby who will think that crawling around on the ground at the Cow Palace seems like a grand idea. As I'd rather she survive her first year, next year is the year to take off. So this year, unless things go very contrary to plan, I'll be there for all but one day - the day of my grandfather's 90th birthday party.