What's for Dinner?

It's a question I get asked at least once a day by my loveable finance, who never has been one to "wing" a meal. In our years together--and especially in the year living together--the division of labor has happened organically, based on each of our interests and skills. Dan, who never misses a wrinkle when ironing shirts, has taken over laundry duty. He also has an extra "neat" gene, so it's more likely you'll find him vacuuming the floors. I, on the other hand, love to watch a meal come together and so have become the unofficial chef in the relationship. When I see my clothes nice and neatly folded, I know my cooking is worth the effort. But sometimes in the middle of the day, when I'm plugging away at work, I suddenly realize I have no idea what's for dinner. A slight panic rushes in. In my few post-college years, I've assembled a small repertoire of dishes, but still, finding something fun, interesting, healthy, and nutritious to cook--that appeals to both of us--can seem like a daunting task. I've thought more than once that this is karma for when, as kids, my brother and I used to complain about whatever dish my mother served up--there was nothing wrong with the meal, it was just fun to whine about it. Somehow, though, an answer always appears. Whether it's something I find at the Trader Joe's right next to work, Dan pitches in on a day when I'm just exhausted, I brainstorm with a friend on cooking ideas, or we just decide to splurge and eat out, I can usually figure something out. And when we sit down to a nice meal at the dinner table (OK, sometimes we eat on the sofa while watching DVDs of The Wire or LOST), I'm glad I toiled over a hot stove.

Ode to Ephie and Leens

Eighty-five years ago today, my grandfather Ephie was born. Unfortunately, he and his better half, my grandmother Lenor (aka "Grandma Leens") passed away some years ago, so I haven't been able to share with them my excitement in finding a life partner. Every rose has its thorn, as the old song goes, and even times of great celebration are tinged with a sadness when you remember those people who are no longer here. But as I've mentioned before, missing people can be a sweet sadness. And there are plenty of wonderful things to miss about my grandparents--how my grandmother used to wait in the hallway outside their apartment after we'd called from the lobby to tell her we were coming up for a visit, or the sweet-and-sour meatballs she'd always make for us because she knew how much everyone, especially my dad, loved them. And always being able to tell someone how she really felt. (Something I appreciate more and more as I realize how my fear of confrontation can sometimes cause problems) And for my grandfather, it was sharing with us his (mostly) original quotations of love and life, all printed up on 3 by 5 inch index cards. Or, if I go back earlier in my childhood, giving us 20 words and paying us a dime for every definition we copied from the dictionary. Or letting us pick a ceramic owl from his massive collection. But more than anything, I miss how they were always there for each other throughout my grandfather's long battle with MS. It's something I miss, and also admire as I embark on a life-long commitment.

WHAT? You're Doing That?

Judging is easy. And when something seems unfamiliar or strange, there is a guilty pleasure associated with criticizing it. A wedding could be the ultimate Judgment Day, people looking at your flowers, your dress, and the menu you choose and thinking "Oh, I would never choose this." These thoughts can be almost subconscious and hard to avoid. And while the judgment scares me a bit, I have come to some peace with it over the last two months. As long as the wedding reflects what Dan and I and a few other VIPs want, then it really doesn't matter what other people think. Of course, I HOPE people like it, but appeasing to everyone's taste is a tall order. But as a guest at many weddings in the next year or two, I'm really trying to incorporate this non-judgmental attitude. Knowing now how much time, work, and money goes into a wedding is making me think twice before criticizing someone else's effort.

Life Right Now

Part of this blog's purpose is to capture what this whole engagement process is like, so that in 30 years I can revisit this time in my life. But I haven't really articulated what my everyday life is like. So here it goes: Dan and I life in a cosy, two-bedroom D.C. apartment. I like to call it shabby chic, a loveable place where the heat only broke down once this winter. We both walk to work, and there are days where we barely cross out of the zip code. The aroma of freshly ground coffee from the small cafe across the street tempts us to stay there and read the newspaper on Saturday afternoons. We shop at a Safeway commonly known as the Soviet Safeway because forget about getting produce on Tuesday nights--better to wait for the new shipment on Wednesdays. But we can always splurge on Whole Foods. OK, there's more than food, I promise. Tranquil Space is my favorite local yoga studio, where I often go for my down-ward dogs, shoulder stands, and plank poses, as well as a bit of peace of mind. The metro takes me pretty much where I want to go; otherwise, I have to catch a ride with Dan, because I sold my car and haven't learned to drive a stick shift yet. There's more than that, of course, but hopefully that paints a picture for all of you readers, and for me when I flip back.

A Restless Mind Is OK

On Monday, I went to my third night meditation class. The whole day long, I was looking forward to spending some time by myself on my cushion. Once I got there, the teacher said that when you find yourself drifting, just label it "thinking" and move on. I had a lot of "thinking" moments, where my mind seemed to move away from my breath and I started pondering about all sorts of things, mostly work and wedding. But being able to label it as such, without any feelings of punishment or wrongdoing, was really helpful. It reminded me of how I can label themes in this blog. Just a very matter-of-fact, conscious action of saying "OK, I am thinking now." And then I could move on. Of course, thoughts would arise again, but there were a few moments of stillness, where all I thought about was the breath. Those moments were great. But perhaps a more important lesson I took away was not to beat myself up if my thoughts drifted. Just acknowledge and go back to the breath, leaving that middle part about blaming yourself out of the equation.

A Matter of Trust

It's more than just a Billy Joel song. Having trust that the wedding will go smoothly is important for me right now. Sure, there's a lot to do, from the big parts like securing a venue to the more minor, detail-oriented tasks such as choosing color schemes, table charts, and songs for the band to play. But it can be a lot more overwhelming if you don't trust yourself and other people helping you plan the big day. And to some degree, even if you double check everything, some things are out of your control. You just have to close your eyes, cross your fingers, and make a leap of faith. Hopefully the lead band singer won't have a cold, the flower shop won't close down, and there's no snow storm in the middle of June. In some ways, a wedding seems like marriage itself. When deciding whom to marry, you can consider all of his or her good qualities, the pros and cons, predict how that person might be like in 20 years, but eventually you need to make a leap of faith. You won't know what the future holds, what surprises might come, but you trust yourself and your partner that being together is the right decision. And that not being together feels wrong somehow.

There is Also a "We"

Ok, maybe the word "we" cannot literally be found in "marriage." But to elaborate a bit more on my last post, marriage is clearly a union, not only of two people but of two families. I am thinking about this union of families now, because Dan and I and my parents just returned from a trip to Chicago to visit his family, a mix of his parents, sister and brother-in-law and their young daughter, aunt, uncle, and cousins. I knew the weekend was a success when my parents were discussing their next trip out there as we boarded the plane to come back. I'm having trouble describing the weekend in words, which is why I broke my rule and am going back into the post and reworking it a bit. While Dan and I chose to marry each other, our families didn't choose to be in-laws. Now they're two groups of relatives interconnected for life simply because sparks flew between their son and daughter at a D.C. bar one night. This randomness could have led to awkwardness and tensions, as can be the case when marriages bring families together, but the weekend didn't have those feelings. It had a kind of magic instead. My parents looking at old picture albums, my dad talking wine with Dan's family, and all of us relaxing by Dan's parents pool while the sun beat down on a hot but beautiful July afternoon. There's something exciting about meeting a new family, discovering their background, their old stories, and then making them your own.

There is an "I" in Marriage

Marriage, or any long-term relationship, involves two people. And throughout that relationship, they share, compromise, argue, agree, and form some sort of union. Although being part of a team is really important, it's not enough. To have a mindful marriage you should be strong all on your own. That means having interests outside the other person, managing if he or she is away for a long work trip, and sometimes meeting up with friends on a Friday night instead of staying in with your spouse. (Or, in Dan's case, playing poker with the guys while I catch up on Grey's Anatomy). It's hard. When you spend a lot of time with someone, you can miss them easily, even if they're gone for just a few days. But instead of wishing them back quickly, take some time to acknowledge your feelings--missing people can be a sweet thing too--and take advantage of some alone time. Being a piece of a couple is a great feeling. But so is being yourself.

So, I'm Marrying a 30-Year Old

As this title implies, today is Dan's 30th birthday. And I'm not too far behind. This picture is from his birthday fiesta last Saturday night, where he and I and some good friends celebrated the three-decade mark. Thirty can be scary because it's always been associated with the beginning of adulthood, throughout society and literature. And what is adulthood, really? Is it when falling asleep early on a Friday night after an exhausting week at work seems a lot more appealing than hitting up the bars? Or when you start looking to buy a home and matching pots and pans? And, of course, moving forward with careers. But as the two of us emerge into this grown-up world, having an inner, light-hearted child inside is more important than ever. And it's not mutually exclusive. We can look at china patterns, think about our future together, while laughing at silly jokes and even making it out to the bar one night!

Attention for the No-Attention Queen

I really don't like all eyes on me. I've never been a huge fan of public speaking, although a college course did help out some. As the bride, I have to realize that everyone will be looking at my new husband and me as we walk down the aisle, stand under the chuppah, exchange wedding bands, and then dance the night away. The attention makes me nervous. What happens if I trip over my dress and everyone stares? Or, less damaging but more likely, my face turns a bright crimson, my eyes well up and my mascara blurs, and my legs shake uncontrollably. Thankfully there's waterproof make-up, but the other solutions are a little harder to find. Relax, stay calm, I'll have to think. Breathe. One friend told me that she had similar fears, but when she saw her finance walking down the aisle, things fell into place. And I guess I must ask the rhetorical 'What's wrong with a little emotion, anyway?' It is my wedding day, after all! But still, Dan and I have mostly eliminated some attention-grabbing moments, such as long first dances, big introductions, and a bouquet toss.
Personal nerves aside, a wedding is an inclusive event, where families and friends meet, mingle, and hopefully make strong bonds. I hope everyone at my wedding feels a bit of personal attention, whether it's in a conversation with a new friend or a slow dance with a lifelong spouse.

Learned Mindfulness

Today, in the scorching D.C. heat, I sat outside at Nationals game for three hours. And they lost! But it was still a fun time, the seats were great on the first row of the first base line. And even though I am not a huge baseball fan, I always am entranced by the cheering of a stadium crowd. As I watched the star athletes hit, catch, pitch, and run, a thought ran through my head: They are acting mindfully. As I saw an outfielder manage a grounder, I saw him pause a second. He was debating whether to go for the more difficult out at second base--thus, eliminating someone closer to scoring position--or the easier out at first. He chose the easy out, because in this case, it wasn't worth the risk of getting the out at second base. But I saw that even in a game where a runner can get to a base in a matter of seconds, the player took his time. No doubt he wasn't born with an innate ability to think for a second before deciding which play to make. Professional athletes spend years and years training, and probably within that time they learn to take a moment before making plays. They learn to scan the field, see the whole picture, weigh risks, and then make decisions. From my understanding, that's mindfulness. And it's learned. Not overnight. But over years. I don't have years to plan my wedding, but I do have 11 months to learn to plan it mindfully. And years later to have a mindful marriage and life

All Dressed Up

So, I have begun the wedding dress search, which everyone says is just the best part of the wedding planning process. I agree. Two weekends ago, I had an official appointment at a wedding dress store in Georgetown. Although none of the dresses were a perfect fit for me, it was so much fun prancing around in silk and satin. When I tried them on, I tried to imagine myself walking down the aisle in one, the picture is a bit blurry. Even though we have a place and a date--and I can envision the spiral staircare that I will (carefully) walk down--it still seems unreal. Even as the details come together, will the wedding ever feel real until its actual day? Or is it more of a gradual thing? When each piece of the wedding picture gets set, the whole pie feels more and more like you can see, taste, and smell it. And then when the day comes, it's just a totality of all your efforts.

Just A Second Here

I just have a moment here. After my initial excitement earlier this week, things have calmed down a bit. And I am thinking I have a little reprieve before craziness piles up again. Last night I finished my soduku, went to yoga, had fafalel and a goat cheese salad for dinner, and went to bed early. It was nice. Being engaged ultimately doesn't change who I am. It's not like one day I woke up a completely different person....

Simma Down Now

Last night it seemed that all the major details were aligning...for the same day! The rabbi, caterer, venue, and band were all available. I found myself bouncing around my apartment, letting the bridezilla in me come out at last. At 11pm, I couldn't contemplate sleep, so I started reorganizing my all my wedding notes and emails, jotting down ideas, looking over some of the bridal dresses I had admired online. But then a gradual reality check crept in. I have work tomorrow. It's 11:30 and I still haven't washed up, let alone finished the sudoku I'd been working on. The wedding is still 11 months away, and while it's so important to relish the thrills, the moments where things all seem like they're coming together, it's also necessary to find moments of peace, of relaxation...and be able to sleep comfortably.

Peace on the Cushion

Last night I went to one of my first meditation classes. In the midst of Dupont's busy 17th St, I stayed still for 3o minutes or so, noticing my breath and my body. It was weird--at times my feet felt really cold, but the rest of my body was burning up. Not sure what to make of that--but that's the point exactly. Just notice, not analyze or judge or wonder. I've been thinking about meditating for a while. I practice yoga, which some could say is meditation on the mat. Meditation, it seemed, could be a way to deal with my everyday stress, coupled with the fact I am now planning a huge lifecycle event. It was hard. Thoughts about the wedding, work, what to eat for dinner, what to do over the weekend, even how to describe my meditation experience in my blog raced through my head. It's hard to meditate.

More on Mindfulness

I admit, I am a mindful beginner. But when wedding plans seemed out of control, I started thinking about this seemingly simple mindset and began trying to incorporate some of its concepts as I organized my big day. I opened my old copy of Wherever You Go There You Are to a page about not expecting all things to be calm and easy, but to able to roll with the surprises. The chapter, in fact, was titled "You Can't Stop the Waves, but You Can Learn to Surf." While there are some elements you can control as you plan your wedding, you can't control the fact that you'll need to make a lot of decisions--each with a hefty price tag--and some of which won't appeal to everyone. It's better to tackle each decision and any associated consequences head on, than wishing they would go away and resolve themselves.

Rabbi Searching

There are times when you just know something's a fit. Today it was the rabbi. On a friend's recommendation, we went to see a conservative rabbi at a nearby shul. He was warm, friendly, and said something I really liked (I am paraphrasing here): "A wedding is great, but a marriage is more important." So we got into the details of our families, and our good and bad qualities. Nothing about the wedding per se, which somehow relieved me. Discussing what marriage could be made me more excited about planning a wedding because it would be our first step as a married couple. It also made me less anxious about the overflooded industry, because if you can see past that (and I am still trying to), you don't have to worry if every little detail. You have the marriage. In other words, I got some perspective today.

Engaged!

When my finance Dan asked if he could turn out the light at 5:00 AM, I begrudgingly agreed, but pulled the blanket over my eyes to return to sleep. When he nudged again, I saw a red jewelry box opened to a shiny ring. It took a second, but then I shrieked. He was proposing, I was yelling in excitement, and we were both smiling ear to ear. It was a moment I'll never forget....Now, there's the wedding. Fulled with making big decisions where a lot of money is involved, making guests happy, digesting an industry flooded with everything from designer cake, chair covers, china patterns. For someone who's prone to stress and lack of decision-making, it can be really overwhelming. So i am trying to breathe easy, relax, and enjoy the process.