Utils in Bat Country

This is what happens when I try to be smooth

As has been established many a time, when I'm caught off guard or feel out of control, things tend to not work so well for me. 

Naturally, wedding planning has been an adventure.  I hate interviewing vendors, figuring out who to go with, trying to negotiate packages, the whole bit.  I end up liking people and establishing pseudo Italian friendship bonds and then I feel like I'm deliberately hurting people's feelings if things don't work out even though I rationally get that they understand and don't take it personally. 

And because my universe is one all encompassing swirl of ridiculous, choosing a photographer has been especially epic.

I did some research, found a few photographers and sent out inquiries.  Had some phone conversations and honed in on one that was great.  Super fun on the phone, amazing pictures, and of course, super expensive.  Had been upfront that was going to wait a bit while the venue was finalized and then get everything booked.  While we were getting all that sorted out (nothing like a technical glitch that prevents email from getting through from them for a month) we did what we do best: continue to analyze and basically spin our wheels.  I couldn't stay away from the SMP preferred vendor page and came upon another photograper's site that looked just as amazing. Had all sorts of accolades and the wedding locations featured were of the Four Seasons variety so I was hesitant to event inquire since spending upwards of $10k on pictures is not an option.  Figured couldn't hurt and got all the information, had a phone conversation and ended up unable to choose between the two.  Both fun on the phone, equal cost, similar photography style, the whole bit.

Had told both that was waiting to finalize the venue and that we'd sort it out because I am not good at the ok we'll let you know spiel.  And, it would be great to work with both.  And yet, thus began a multi week still haven't heard from the venue, this is the package we want dance.  Polled family members who are photographers, colleagues who are artists, random people on the street, and the vote was evenly split.  Was going crazy having it unresolved, felt guilty for dragging it out, frustrated with the venue when we didn't know they had an email glitch and just hadn't received any response and so on. Was standing at work, with each of the photographer's sites on my monitors, scrolling in vain, essentially about to flip a coin.

And then! One of the photographer's had a post up from an award he got and there was a picture of him with a group including his wife.  And in the caption, I suddenly recognize a name.  Turns out, photographer number 2 is married to photographer number 1.  

Horror slowly dawned when I remembered that J and I had asked to talk to each of them on a Sunday when I was hoping he would have a tie breaking vote and talked to one at 230 and the other at 3.  Wouldn't be a problem except it was Sunday and she mentioned she was out with her husband running errands.  Hang up with her and 10 minutes later call him.  Asked if it was still a fine time to talk and he said sure, he was just in the car going around town.

I WONDER WHO WAS IN THE CAR WITH HIM. 

On that particular day, neither of them let on that they knew so I'm not sure when they found out we were talking to both of them but after I saw the picture and realized what had happened I spent a couple of minutes trying to sort out the logistics of running away to Tahiti. When that didn't pan out, figured the best thing to do was embrace the insanity.  I emailed them and basically said so, obviously we all appreciate good photography, we like you both and are going to flip a coin so whatever you two want to do works for us.  Ok, byeeee.  

Good times then at 6:02 tonight when my phone rings and he's all so, yeah.  I immediately start stammering and laughing and pacing around the bedroom and generally sounding like a utter buffoon. Explained that I found one, J found the other (what is wrong with me) and that with all the venue stasis we just kept going back and forth and since we were unable to make a decision, wanted to get their input that way if one wanted to shoot the wedding more than the other, we'd take that into account.  He was all, uh, so, that's not how it works, you actually have to decide.  I managed to stop myself from begging them to not make me do it and said, ok, well just so you know, if you really have no preference, I'm assigning you each a number and using the random function in excel and letting the wizards of math decide.

So, both of the photographers now know I'm a nutter and likely think I'm an imbecile and I still have to make a decision.

Maybe I can get the cats to choose. 

I need a contraction jingle

Actually perplexing or insomnia induced inanity?

If it's can/can't and w/c/should/n't, why isn't it will/willn't?

Candid, captured

One of the unfortunate effects of being active on the Internet when most of the rest of my in-life relationships aren't is that there isn't a huge frame of reference when I try to explain or relate various things.

Now that it's summer and most of the internet is off gallivanting and, of course, posting pictures of the gallivanting, I'm envious of how nice their captured memories look compared to mine.

Not that they have nicer lives or more fun vacations (though sure, sometimes), more that their pictures and setting tableau's are just generally delightful.  You know how when people take their family pictures on the beach or in front of some rustic fall barn and no one is standing straight smiling at the camera but all the photos are of the fun (if posed), spontaneous (if staged) variety.  Those are my favorites.

Of course, once people started seeing that hey, these are more fun to look at then the same 6 participants standing in a row saying cheese, the people of the internet started adopting this photo technique for their own personal photos.  

But try and get the non blog reading, pinterest browsing family members to get on board and I'm met with stares of confusion.  'I should take your picture when you're not looking at the camera...?' Well. Kind of.  Which results in pictures of me not artfully laughing at something just out of frame but still turned enough towards the camera to be attractive but of a blurry but zoomed in capture of my nose.

In my own photo taking, I try to capture the fun moments as sort of a look how enjoyable pictorial guide. And the shots are typically met with reactions of 'hey, when did you take that, what a fun picture, I didn't even see you take it.'  But when it comes time for me to be in front of the camera it's still everyone look over here and say cheese.

But I will persevere! Granted, I can see where Dad thinks it's odd that I'd want pictures of us being goofy decorating the Christmas tree instead of just the nice family shot standing in front of the glowing ornaments but one step, and holiday, at a time.

And maybe one day Mom will think it's fun to blow snow towards the camera.  While saying cheese, obviously :)

To a fault

While I do stop short of Spock level, I am endlessly logical.  It suits me well enough, my life and career both benefit from this particular personality quirk and there's enough Ariel at the castle is real left in my head to balance it out.

Occasionally, I get evidence to refute my logic is beneficial claim.

I was in Anthropologie, purchasing a couple present and the cashier and I started chatting.  One area where Anthro excels (sadly, less frequently than they used to) is excellent customer service.  I mentioned which items were gifts and she wrapped them up and was asking me about who they were for and why I picked them and in the course of conversation it came up that I'm an economist.  She commented on how interesting it must be, I said sometimes, etc.  So then she asked if I could do anything, what would I do.

And I'm stumped.  The logical side of my brain immediately contradicts all the "dream job" options I can conjure up.  Bakery owner: generally requires a work day start time of 4am.  (Also: would weigh a jillion pounds or get sick of sweets, neither is appealing).  Anytime after I watch episodes of Gilmore Girls, have an inn: must deal with laundry and disgruntled people.  Dancer: I love my couch. Dog walker: winter.  And so on.

Even my beloved, would quit my current job in a second, Disney princess fantasy: too old, hot, would probably loathe whoever was playing my prince.

Am I really so logical that I can't even come up with a dream job?

I finish my reasons why not and the ever pleasant Anthro worker cocked her head, looked at me, and said ' you're a Virgo, aren't you.'

Indeed.

 

Road tripping

Over Memorial Day, I trekked back out to Michigan.  Supposedly the trip was to do things like pick up the rest of my things, introduce J to T/B and get away from the toxic pollen that ended up making me miserable for 4 days but really, there was one main reason.

She remembered me!  I had my phone recording when I walked in and there's 45 seconds of Blair Witch style footage where Tilly is divebombing me.  I sat on the floor and she climbed halfway onto my chest and snuggled right up.

She looks good, is crazy as ever.  Was following me all around the hour I was there.  When I went to load everything the car she hopped right back into her spot all I go to Mom, right?

No shocker - I sobbed.

I'm glad she's happy and while I miss her I know she's in the best place right now.  Made me feel better about leaving.  

Till we meet again, sweet girl.

Stress Relief

I love Target for stress relief as much as the next person but everyone now and then, going to to nice grocery store and just letting myself browse around and find whatever sounds good to cobble together.

Breathe in... 

Breathe out... 

Of course two days later it was back to cereal.  Business as usual.

Economist-ed

(Not quite as easy to bam out as Marshall's 'Lawyered' but I'll manage)

At the train station this morning before the sun had properly risen:

J: Engagement rings have no value - it's a small piece of rock that marketing and society have decided are the only way to quantify worthiness.  They're essentially pointless.

[Ed: We like to razz on each other and since I'm a sap and we just got back from my cousin's wedding, he figured this would be an easy win, nothing more implied, no one get excited or go calling my mom about my impending nuptials]

S: Insurance companies place plenty of value on them.

J: ...Dammit.

S: Economisted!

I might have to drop the type person

I think of myself as an adult-type person.  I say type person since my mental image of an adult is what the grown ups looked like when I was 15 and babysitting.  So - mid 30s, house, fenced yard, spouse, kids, job, dog, accountant.  

And since I possess few of those things and certainly don't feel like I remember the adults being, am still a adult type person.

Over the weekend, J and I drove up to NJ for my cousins 8th grade play and have dinner with the fam. Since the shows were spread out over the weekend, my aunt and uncle asked if we'd bring her and her friend back to the farm between the matinee and evening shows.  No problem.  We get to the matinee, snark about the kids in the program (see: not fully adult), enjoy the show, have a this is your future moment of crisis thinking of spending Sat afternoon at a middle school play surrounded by parents/grandparents/bored siblings.  Show is over and we get my cousin and her friend and head back to the farm.  In the car, asked the occasional how was the show question but they were involved in a discussion about the wrap party at a diner that night and then it hit me. 

To them I'm the annoying mom type person driving carpool.  Fitting that the performance was the Little Mermaid as my mental self immediately shriveled up into one of Ursula's 'helped' merpeople, wailing.

Farewell, type-person.  I guess I'm an adult.

[Of course, not even 24 hours later when I had sort of started eyeing the idea of adulthood w/ not an entirely horrified attitude since maybe life is starting to become adult in most areas, am totally caught off guard in the middle of the mall and spent the rest of the weekend spazzing. Never leave me, type person moniker.]

Compliments

I do that annoying girl thing where compliments from other women are more meaningful/valid/hard-earned than compliments from guys.  Well, I suppose it's about half that and half compliments from people who know and love me are less meaningful/valid/hard-earned than those from strangers on the street.

I'm not particularly wordy, neither is J but he knows I think he looks very nice and vice-versa.  A thumbs up/thumbs down when either one of us comes out of a dressing room is sufficient.

Friday night when we were chatting about our week and he relayed a (what I'm sure he thought would be) random aside about the grocery store.  He goes shopping at the same time every week so he's familiar with most of the employees and they him.  I happened to be with him one night so the woman working the deli counter saw me.  Then the next week as he was getting cold cuts and cheese for sandwiches, she told him 'your girlfriend is beautiful'.

I danced around about it all weekend and I'm sure he was a bit perplexed why the woman at the deli counter thinking I'm beautiful would inspire such cloud nine levels of glee and while I recognize that it's perhaps a smidge odd, I also recognize that it's just how it is.

Your girlfriend is beautiful.

Oh thank you, woman at the deli counter.  You are awesomesauce.

One year and still driving in circles

It's been a year.

A good year, overall.  Definitely not perfect but more laughter than tears and more smiles than sighs so not going to push my luck.

But while I may be doing reasonably well at this forward growth gambit, I'm still me, so there's a story about me being logistically inept for my anniversary.

Since Tass being in Bmore was the reason I decided to live here instead of closer to DC, which turned out to be a very good thing, it made sense that she and I celebrate together, at the diner.  As with most major cities Bmore has a loop and several major highways feed into it.  I take 695 to the train station some mornings and see the signs for 95.  I've driven back from Tass' before via the highway and it's 95 to 695.  So when I headed out Sunday, I took 695 to meet up with 95.  Couple exits later, right at my destination, easy peasy.  I'm driving down the road, singing along to my music and notice that the signs say that Baltimore is NORTH on 95.  That... shouldn't be what I want to do....  Hmm.  GPS was on the floor of the passenger seat, too far for me to reach and neither of the iphone map apps I have would have been up and running quickly enough.  Figured I should heed the sign and head North.  Luckily, my ez pass was in the car so one $4 trip through the tunnel and some muttering about highway maps, I arrived.

So yes. I went the wrong way around the loop.  

Never change, self.