The Bubble Test

Actually, it's called the Focus Test. But you fill out bubbles with a #2 pencil, I guess, just like when you take a test at school, if it's that kind of test. This test will tell Brian and me if we are compatible. I am worried that we'll get a bad grade. Why, you say, are there problems between you two that we don't know about? Nope, I say, just my ordinary performance issues. I remember the first (and last) time I got a C+ in grade school. My mom called me downstairs. Unsuspectingly, I bounced down the stairs but as I rounded the landing and saw my parents sitting sternly waiting for me, positioned exactly as these people are here (although my parents would have been much younger than this couple at the time), and my mind started racing - what did I do? I couldn't for the LIFE of me remember breaking anything! A vase? A dish? What then?? I paced my steps to cross the rather large front hallway as slooooowly as possible. I had to explain why a student such as myself had gotten a C+.

I never had to have that conversation again. My dad died, and my GPA went down from a 9.9 to a 9.3 (out of 10, in my high school). I had to work through all manner of things in college and grad school(s) but that was never reflected in my grades.

Performance is essential. Or not. I've tried over the years to work out some of my psychoemotional kinks relating to this issue, but it's a little like prying something out of a cold, dead hand - that stuff is deeply embedded in my soul.

Anywho, Brian and I have struggled with the religion issue. When we decided to get married, I thought it was just about getting married, but it turns out that it's actually a pretty significant public ritual solemnizing an important event in two people's lives. I mean, we will actually be making a statement on all levels. Hopefully, the ceremony will state that we are more focused on the true meaning of the event and less so on bells, whistles, and ribbons. Hopefully, the reception will reflect our focus on fun and family get-togethers. Hopefully, our wedding ritual itself will say a lot about who we are as people... I mean, I didn't know it was that big of a deal -- I thought we were mainly making a statement to each other -- but it does involve others. This is not to say that our decisions should be made on others' preferences; only that we will be making statements whether we want to or not, so we should take care that we don't communicate something we don't want to. Ultimately, the choice of what to communicate or not is up to us, but I don't want to unwittingly or carelessly communicate something that I don't want to...

So back to the test, tomorrow nite. I'm actually excited, and that really outweighs the trepidation. It's the first formalized marital prep things we're doing. All along, we've wanted to do some structured prep no matter where we got married, and now we're doing it. We'll be talking to a priest who will hopefully also handle our formal pre-cana "talks" and then we'll do the engaged encounter and natural family planning things. Or maybe he won't require them. We don't really know yet. He's a new priest, as the other gentleman handling our pre-cana didn't work out (see our entry about that issue). It won't be our priest friend in California 'cause he's far away. It's the priest at Cronan's, Gerry Kleba.

Anyway, he wants us to do the test first and then we'll talk about whether he'll do marriage prep or not. I think he didn't want to commit to giving his blessing on the wedding if the test showed we were diametrically opposed to each other on all major issues. That does tie in a little bit to my ordinary feelings of performance pressure (it's not anxiety, because I do well on tests and have all my life - it's just the knowledge that no other option is acceptable), but more than anything, it feels good. If something comes up, we'll talk about it, just like we do about everything else that has come up this last year. It's something beautiful and touching and full of hope and our love for each other, that counters some of the ugliness this week.

In memoriam

ONE YEAR AND COUNTING...

Quick post, but I just wanted to say that today is the one year anniversary of Alex and I first beginning to talk. I replied to her initial e-mails for the first time on April 12, 2006. I love you Alex!!!

Of eggs and cakes and tears...

So this past Easter Saturday, Alex and I went to her mom's and we decorated Easter eggs...this was the first time I have ever done any dying of Easter eggs, at least that I can remember. We all had one wooden egg to do and several real eggs. I thought my wooden egg, after dying it blue and pasting the green bits on to make a "world egg," turned out pretty good:

Anyway, Alex made a cake and brought it over and was decorating that as well.

But, before I get to that, I need to talk about this...

A couple of weeks ago, Alex and I were talking about finances, specifically her debt from law school, which as anyone who's had school debt will assume, isn't insignificant. She told me that she was worried that I'd break up with her over her debt.
I told her, and I absolutely meant (and mean) it, that "I would rather live in a cardboard box on the street with you than live without you."

Now back to your regularly "shed-yuled" blog...

Alex was decorating a cake. It was a simple yellow cake in white icing. she was really going to town as well...doing a whole Ace of Cakes thing on it. She had rolled fondit and coloured it, making it blue and put two rectangles of it near one end, covered about 3/4 of the other end in a greenish tint, put what looked like a # sign on that in red, put a small picket fence around the side with a couple of dogs, a small plastic pizza on the top and to finish it off, two heads, one with a black hat on, resting on the blue pieces of fondit. She then took it to the other room to finish it off. She was cutting out cardboard pieces and taping them together.

NO ONE knew what she was going for...

So finally she told me.

Alex said: "What does this look like to you?"

Me: "I would assume that the heads are you and me...and it looks like we're in bed."

Alex: "Right. And do we look like we're in the lap of luxury?"

Me: "Hmmm...not really...we're eating pizza. What's this number sign here?"

Alex: "That's a patch on our blanket."

Me: "Oh...okay, I get that now...but...I still don't get the theme..."

Alex puts the last piece in place: "And what's this?"

Me: (still baffled) "It looks like an empty box."

Alex: "Right. And remember how you said you'd rather live in a box..."

I never heard her finish her statement. I began to sob, right there. I threw my arms around her and held her and wept for about a minute or so. I just couldn't believe that she'd make a cake about that. I couldn't believe how much that meant to me.

I still mean it, by the way. Granted, living in a cardboard box on the street isn't anything I'd want to do...but if I had to, I could...as long as my love is with me.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....

That was my only thought about 9:30AM on Saturday.

I was barely conscious of Alex getting up about 30 minutes before. I barely had enough wakefulness to pull the cover around me and roll over.

I wasn't totally asleep. You know that asleep where you have that one little voice in the back of your mind where you hear "it's time to get up now..." Yeah...I don't like that voice very much.

I heard Alex come up the stairs but I hoped maybe she wouldn't wake me up.

"Oh, Bri-an..."

Damn!

I rolled over, opening my eyes barely...

"Breakfast in bed, my sweet..."


I opened my eyes and Alex had brought up a tray with scrambled eggs and cheese and croissants and jelly (the real good organic raspberry kind) and milk.

Wow! Just...just wow!

I have never been served breakfast in bed before, unless I was sick and not allowed to leave bed. Just the amount of love that went into the decision to do that...for no reason other than she wanted to make me happy...I was completely overwhelmed. I do not know what I did in this life (or a past life) to deserve this kind of treatment from this kind of woman...I'm just thrilled that I'm here.

Alex told me later: "I heard you rolling over a couple times...I just kept saying 'please don't come down here...' I wanted to surprise you."

She did indeed.

It will be hard to top breakfast in bed. I know relationships aren't a contest...just because one person does something nice for the other, it doesn't mean anything is expected in return. But I want to do something special for her...something to show I care like she did when she made me breakfast for no other reason that to show me she loves me.

I'll come up with something...maybe for our anniversary...which is coming soon!