Playing virtual dress up

On the 'oh-for-crying-out-loud, are-we-supposed-to-be-children?!' front, theknot.com has a little tool with which you can create an "inner bride" avatar for yourself -- pick the facial features, the hair, the body, the skin tone, the dress, the accessories, the setting.... Because we can never get enough of paper dolls and Barbie, even as we age. That's why Second Life is popular (among people with whom it's popular).

Even with all the options provided, this unlikely creature is what I come up with for my "inner bride" --



The body options are limited in the extreme. One can be thin or thinner. The hair options allow for no Louise Brooks bobs (who, like Veronica Lake, seems to be remembered almost exclusively for her hair). In spite of various options for facial features, every face comes out looking pretty much the same. And, of course, all we brides stand in exactly the same coquettish pose.

Getting back into the groove

I haven't posted since November 19th. I was aware that it's been a while, but I had no idea it was quite that much of a while. When the mood strikes, there it is, and when it doesn't, I disappear like a rabbit run to earth.

To assure one and all, my silence should not be read in any kind of foreboding way vis a vis the nuptials. Rather, I got tired of wedding stuff. I don't know how people spend every waking moment planning that one day for a year or more without suffering extreme ennui -- I use that term as opposed to 'boredom', because it better captures the depression that can come from over exposure to the wedding-industrial complex. That said, as I stare into my Blue Wave GoLite P2, it does occur to me that maybe it's just me.

Perhaps because the days are slowly getting longer or perhaps because I did take that six week break from obsession with all things wedding, I'm ready to think about it again. I'm even ready to gather up a group of gurlfriends to go see what promises to be a train wreck of a wedding movie about train wreck bridezillas: Bride Wars. It has garnered comments on Rotten Tomatoes like, "appallingly simple-minded," and "a retrograde comedy that makes women look like shallow, scheming, selfish creatures who worship consumerism and fret about their hips." Well, the bridal mags seem to assume that's precisely what we all are, and work very hard to foster those characteristics, and I have noted before the pop culture obsession with brides and bridal parties behaving badly. This movie is just more of the same neo(?)-misogynist dross, I'm sure, but it will give me something to critique.

David M. offered to go see it with me, but it was made in a tone as to suggest that Slum Dog Millionaire might be more to his liking. As with his offer to go see Sex and the City with me, it was charming of him, and surely points to just how profoundly the man is in love, but perhaps due to the profundity of my own affection for him, I feel the need to shield him from the cruel ravishes of the really bad chick flick.

But my question is, why, then, is he so intolerant of Say Yes to the Dress?

As for the actual wedding, David M missed the entire last week of school before Christmas break because of snow and ice. This means that in all likelihood, the scheme of going down to Santa Cruz for a family-only marriage formalization, followed by the Corvallis reception hoopla the next weekend is shot. His school year is probably going to extend into that first week of summer break. June 20th is still a go for the party; it will just have to include the marriage bit, too, and sadly without the presence of Mama M, as she is not big on travel these days anymore -- the reason for the summer plans and Santa Cruz scheme, to begin with.

Na ja ("oh well," as a German might say it). That does promise to save some money, which will be put to good use on a honeymoon. I think we are now decided on Kauai. It's a little on the 'typisch' side, but it beats Lincoln City. I've heard nothing but 'rave reviews' and 'glowing comments' from anyone who has ever been. Of course, I know someone who responded to my snipey little comments about Lincoln City with, "I like Lincoln City," so who knows how I'll feel about it, but it seems like it would be hard to go wrong with the quintessential island paradise.

Meeting the In-Laws

My parents stopped off in Santa Cruz yesterday to meet David's mother. They were to each other a social success.

Mama M. regaled my folks with the family history, which was right up my mother's ally. Back in the 70's while working on her Ph.D., the latter had collected oral histories of people in South Texas who had come to El Norte fleeing the Mexican Revolution and its consequences. Mama M. had pretty much the same story to tell. She was only two at the time her parents left, but she knew the family tale. Papa was away selling horses when some soldiers came into town. Mama M.'s mama fixed them a meal, and was consequently spared having the house searched for guns, which could have been big trouble, considering that she had told them there were none when, of course, there were. El Capitan told his men, "No, you leave that house alone. She was good to us." But when Papa came back home, Mama announced that she had had enough of that kind of thing and said she was ready to book it for El Norte. And so they did, eventually making their way to Idaho as farm laborers.

To top things off, one of David's sisters had gone on pilgrimage to San Juan de los Lagos, asking to survive her cancer long enough to see her children to adulthood. The milagro was granted. Mexican Revolution and pilgrimage... my parents, and especially my mother, were as happy as little clams. Mama M. served pound cake and coffee.

In other news, I believe I have found the perfect dress. Whether or not a pattern approximating this could be fashioned and executed without too much trouble remains to be seen, but by golly, this is what I'm talking about -- for the party, at least.

No more pears

I think the "perfect pair" wedding decor and favor theme is as done as chocolate fountains. I guess that's why they're having a big sale on "perfect pair" candles over at TheKnot.

Popular Commentary on Marriage, Sex and Living With Cats

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More on the date

It's looking as if June will be the time. The major consideration pointing to that over December is the groom's mama, who at 92, is not so keen on travel as she once was. The thought at this point is to have a small, quiet 'ceremony' in Santa Cruz on, say, the 16th or 17th so that she can be a part of it, and have the 'reception' in Corvallis a few days later on the 20th.

As my friend Ms. K points out, this way I can have two dresses... .

Withdrawals

On NPR this morning, a particularly resonant piece ran:

Morning Edition, November 7, 2008 · The end of the presidential campaign is a relief for many. For news junkies, however, it can mean withdrawal symptoms. No more tracking polls to worry about. No more speeches to obsess over. Election addicts will need to detox.

"Maybe they were binging on election news."

Indeed. I, like the couple in this feature, am emerging from a red and blue haze, blinking and squinting in the bright, foreign light of nature. It's not easy to pull myself away, either. I feel an urge to do research on hypo-allergenic dogs and contact a bookie about placing a bet on the White House puppy.

The Pres-Elect is not making this any easier, either. I've spent the last eight years switching off the radio every time The Shrubbery opened his mouth. With this one, leaving the radio on for press conferences does not cause pain.

But I have a wedding to plan, so I'll let go of the burning desire to monitor the Internets for news on Obama's HUD secretary pick or stories of Rahm Emanuel's pit bullish (oh, there's *that* again) ways or gleeful gossip about Sarah Palin's lack of geographic knowledge.

About that latter, if you are shocked by the rumor that she has been operating under the delusion that Africa is a country and not a continent, don't be. I've had students do things on map quizzes that would make your head spin: putting India in Germany, Venezuela in Namibia and Oregon in the Galapagos Islands. Of course, they weren't VP picks on major party tickets, and hopefully never will be. Nothing worse resulted from their geographical ignorance than a bad grade, but I'm just saying there are a lot people out there on the streets who don't know Africa from a hole in the ground, and don't see what the big deal is in that, either. We majorly dodged something there, folks, but it's all around us.