Beautifucation

Jill primping my hair

Ayesha

My hands, one foot, and my sister's feet, with drying henna paste.

Three nights before the wedding, the girl I trade services with to get my hair cut came over. She brought her irons and tools, and played with my hair, trying to give me some ideas of a way to fix it on my wedding day.

She said she couldn't come the day of the wedding, so she'd teach me what to do.

Yeah, right.

What she did was really pretty. It was partly up, and partly down, and all pretty and whispy and feminine.

I tried to do it myself the next night, and my tools were just all wrong, and I was not about to go out and buy all new curling irons and gadgets.

I discovered that my wedding day hair was going to be pretty much blah. Oh well. Hopefully, the flower I ordered would turn out OK, and that would make up for not having a nice "up/down do" for the occasion.

And then there were my nails.

Not only did P make my dress for me, and hostess the henna party, she also made an appointment for me to go get my nails done on the day before the wedding. (she did not PAY for my mani/pedi, but she made sure that I had a place to go for one!)

D and I had a full day planned. He'd arrived on Thursday, and we had dinner with my sister and brother in law.

Then, Friday morning, we met with BHD and hobbitt for breakfast, then we went out and got our marriage license, and then we went to my office, so D could meet everyone.

At about 2, I dropped him off at home, and left.
He was picked up later that afternoon by my brother in law, and they did a low key boys' night out with my brother, and best man hobbitt, in tow, and then D spent the night at my sister's house.

I went to P's favorite salon that afternoon, which is way up in the area where she lives (about 40 minutes from where I live), and from there, it was convenient for me to go on to the henna party that evening.

The girls at the salon greeted me, and I was taken to the manicure station by my technician. I asked for a french manicure on the nails I had been growing out for a month in anticipation of the wedding.

I asked her to make the nails soft ovals. There shouldn't be much filing to do, I said. I wanted her to keep them as long as they were.

She grabbed her file and started going.
As if I had not even spoken, she squared the nails off.

By doing that, she filed off nearly all of the growth I had accomplished, but I didn't notice what she was doing until too many of the nails had been ruined.

So I just let her go with the square nails, and I decided to just deal with my nails being much shorter than I'd wanted them for my wedding day. It wasn't like I could make her put them back to how they were when I'd walked in the door!

I was too nervous about the wedding, anyway, to be upset with her for wrecking my month of nail growth!

The color I chose was a very soft lavender, with traditional white tips.

We chatted, and I told her all about how I knew P, and how I met my fiance`, and about the wedding.

Then we went to the pedicure station.

I sat in the big, raised chair, and sank my feet into the scalding hot whirlpool. Oh my god, I thought I was going to die! It was way too hot. I asked her to lower the heat a bit, and she said she did, but I couldn't feel it.

She continued to talk, and another of the girls who works there came and joined us. They talked to eachother, then, for the rest of my pedicure. About the other girl's love life. My technician was obviously distracted.

The matching french pedicure on my toes was uneven and shoddy. She did not work on my callouses, or do the other things that are supposed to happen during a pedicure, and she did not do the lower leg massage. She basically washed my feet, filed the nails, and then applied the lavender and white polish.

AND, then I got to pay $75 for the privilege of having my nails done in a fancy salon!

Yes, $75. The polish was even peeling the day after the wedding!

I will never, and I do mean NEVER, do anything like that again!!

From the salon, I went along up to P's house.
I had changed my glasses, and had put on my sun glasses, putting my regular ones in the case in my car. The sun was starting to set, and it was RIGHT in my eyes as I drove.

I arrived in P's driveway, and when I opened my glasses case, I found that my regular glasses had broken inside the case.
I have frameless glasses, and the stuff that holds the lenses in place, that looks like fishing line, had snapped, and one of the lenses was loose.

This had happened before, in the same case (which the glasses CAME IN), and I had taken the glasses to Lenscrafters, where they came from, and they fixed them in a jiffy, for no charge.

Anyway, I went inside, we called F, who was on her way already, and told her that I would need her to take me out to find a place to get my glasses fixed as soon as she got there. They were still holding together, but I wasn't sure they'd stay that way, and I'd hate to be driving and unable to see.

It was starting to come close to getting dark, and I would not be able to drive with my sun glasses on, nor could I do that to get home.
I also knew that I would not have time on my wedding day to go out somewhere and try to get my regular glasses fixed!!
The glasses HAD to be repaired immediately!

P got out the phone book, and we found that a nearby Target had an optical department.

So, F got there. We unloaded the card table, and left P to wait for the other guests by herself.

F and I got to Target, and we waited a good 15 minutes for the only person working there to notice us. She was a teenager without a clue.

She said she could not fix the glasses, and that all she could offer was a repair kit for free. We took the kit and left.

Back at P's house, we took the phone book out again. Pearle vision. Let's go.

P gave us directions on how to get there. We fought heavy Friday night traffic, and eventually found our way to the place, only to find that it was closed up tight. They'd moved.

There was a sign on the window telling us where they'd moved to. OK THEN! Let's go.

We made our way to the new location. Closed up tight. No sign on this door. Just....closed. No furniture inside, no phone on the counter.

Nothing.

I finally began to swear in earnest, and we headed back to P's, hoping that one of us could figure out how to use the stupid repair kit from Target.

The kit, of course, had no directions! It was just a length of fishing line, and an odd little plastic tool for threading it.

Guests started to arrive at the party, and F tried to fix the glasses, only to ultimately break them all the way.

I had mentioned that the glasses came from Lenscrafters, and people had talked about the situation, but no ideas came along to resolve the situation.

We ate, drank, and enjoyed the party, but I was still worried. The food was from my favorite Middle Eastern restaurant in the area, and the wine was delicious and plentiful.

But still, I fretted.
I knew that I was going to have to have someone drive me home, 40 minutes away, and have someone else follow us, so the friend driving could get brought back, another 40 minutes to get her car! Did anyone know how to drive a stick?

Then, while I was being painted on my hands and feet with thick, fragrant henna paste, an idea popped into my head.

Wasn't there a big shopping mall nearby? Didn't Lenscrafters often have locations in big shopping malls?

P got her phone book out again. BINGO! Two party guests volunteered to go take my glasses to Lenscrafters (which we CALLED to be sure they were OPEN), and to get more WINE!

BHD and my niece were the ones who went, bless them.

While the rest of the henna party went on, they left and were gone for nearly 2 hours.

When they returned in triumph, my glasses were restored, and we had more lovely wine!

Everyone got henna art on at least one hand...but I got to have both hands and both feet, and my fiance`'s initials were hidden in the patterns of my left hand, which was traditional in the part of India where our artist was from.

The paste she used was infused with essential oils, and was very fragrant. When the paste was dry, we were spritzed with sugar water to make things even MORE sticky! Apparently, that helps to set the color.

The pictures above are of the hair styling night, and from the henna party.

I was so grateful for everything that everyone did for me to prepare for the wedding, and to celebrate my happiness!!

I could have gotten very upset about all of the things that went wrong. In fact, I DID get a little upset about all of those things, including the florist being a BEEOTCH....but in the long run, it was all good.

I left henna the party alone, able to drive (and SEE), and I got henna paste all OVER my steering wheel, stick shift, seat, and carpet.

I still find bits of it here and there, and I smile.

Moving along....

My weekend in Michigan was lovely, and much needed, though far too short.
I slept SO very deeply, and peacefully, in my friends' home in the woods!!
(Above are a couple of pictures--remember that you can click on the images for a larger view--and I recommend you do that with these!)

My first night back home, I was right back to the nightmares and restlessness. Sigh...at least I got a little respite.

So, back to the wedding story.

When I divorced my ex husband, his family was, at first, on his side.
Naturally.
However, as time went by, and the full story came out, and his family started to see him for who he really is, they started to contact me again.
Through this process, they also started to let me know, in no uncertain terms, that they did not blame me, in any way, for the failure of the marriage.

My ex husband's aunt, in fact, asked "What took you so long?"

Anyway, my ex mother in law had passed away from a heart attack before the divorce, so she never needed to know about the failure of her eldest son's marriage, nor about her eldest son's various addiction illnesses.

My ex father in law, after a time, began contacting me periodically. He would send me birthday and holiday cards, and sign them "Love, DAD" always with the DAD in caps.

He wanted me to know that he thought of me as his own. As the daughter of his heart. As more his child than the son I had divorced.

Dad actually contacted me most frequently, however, through his other son, my now late ex brother in law, Jay.

Jay was the family corespondent. He was the one who stayed in touch with everyone.

Unfortunately, Jay had muscular dystrophy, and he passed away, suddenly, a couple of years ago.

Anyway, one day, when Jay and I had been in correspondence, he sent me an email in which he told me that Dad had said that if I ever needed someone to walk me down the aisle again, he'd hoped that I would ask him.

Jay said that Dad said he realized that no one could ever replace my father, but that if I ever met the right guy, he'd be there for me.

This news touched me so deeply, that I remember bursting into tears upon reading it.

After Jay's tragic passing, Dad and I started to correspond directly. In the course of our getting acquainted again, via email, he reminded me that he wanted to give me away, if I ever got married again.

When I met Dave, I told Dad about him.
Dad said "I have a good feeling about this one, Daughter. You keep me posted, because I suspect this time, things will end happily!"

Time passed, I kept Dad informed, and Dave eventually proposed.

I told Dad, and he was thrilled.

More time passed, Dave and I did not set a date for a while. And then I got an email from Dad's middle daughter, Mary.

I had not heard from Mary for many, many years, and all that I remember of her was that she hated me for taking her brother away when we got married, and she was still a teen (that's another story for another blog....scary shit went on between my ex and his sister--part of the reason for the divorce).

Mary's email bore sad news.
Dad had fallen. He was ok, but he had, as a result of the fall, gone through a battery of tests.

He had been diagnosed with late onset (he's in his early 70's) Alzheimer's disease.

Dad then contacted me himself, and he nearly broke my heart.

He said "Please set a wedding date soon, Daughter, so that I can see you happy-- before I don't remember who you are."

I talked to Dave about this, and we decided to set the date.

I discussed this with my brother, the most obvious "back up" aisle walker, and he was FINE with being second in line, in the event that Dad would be too ill to attend.

My brother, thankfully, understood the gravity of the situation with Dad, and he, also thankfully, did not feel slighted by my choosing my ex father in law to be first in line! When I told him the story, he "got it," and told me not to worry.

After all, choosing my ex father in law to walk me down the aisle is, to the uninformed observer, a rather odd choice!!

But, now, perhaps, my gentle readers will understand better why I chose as I did.

So, Dad and I discussed what he should wear (I told him to be comfortable), and we set up the details...and the rest of this story can be told when I tell you about the wedding day itself!

I'll also elaborate on the henna party, and the trip to the day spa to get my nails done, in my next wedding prep post!!

Promises, promises!

I promise to get back to the wedding story... eventually!

The stress at work has me very burned out. Going to take care of that, at least a little bit, this coming weekend.

I come home from work and am so exhausted, I don't feel like blogging. My apologies.

Feeling beaten up

I had planned to continue the pre-wedding story with my next post, but I just don't feel in the mood today.

I set my alarm and got up about 15 minutes later than I would on a work day. I had to go to the dentist again today.

This time, for the replacement of 4 very old fillings. It took less time than it did the last time my dentist replaced an entire " quadrant" of old mercury amalgam fillings, and it seemed to be a little less traumatic, too.

He said that's because the continuing research into dental science has revealed that the old amalgam material is not as toxic as once thought. Sure, the gas it releases into your body on a daily basis is toxic, but in a very tiny, microscopic way. So it's still good to get the stuff OUT of your mouth. But the actual material is not as dangerous as was once thought.

So no more dentist and technician wearing scary looking masks while they remove the amalgams. No more big rubber dam to keep any tiny fragments from contacting the inside of the patient's mouth. No more noisy, scary sand blasting and vacuuming.

Thank goodness! All it took was the usual drill and suction. Not nearly as bad as the other three times I went through replacing several at once.

The anesthetic wore off quicker this time than it did with the last visit, for an actual cavity, 2 weeks ago. That was nice.

But I am still sore, and headachey, and feeling beat up.

At least it's DONE.

Got the grocery shopping done after resting for a while.

The stress at work over the past two weeks has been completely overwhelming. One of my co managers, and the woman I have been taking daily walks with for 3 years, gave notice.

That's all fine and good. I'm happy for her getting out of that place! However, upper management saw fit to give me her big account.

This is the company's most unique, highest maintenance, most demanding, most difficult account.

It takes a minimum of 3 months to learn this account well enough to be able to do the tasks related to it correctly.

I was given exactly 6 and a half days to learn everything.

THIS IS ABSURD! Not only was I already doing 3 people's jobs, now I have this foisted on me.

My condo REALLY needs to sell. This job has been sucking the life out of me for a while now. I am thankful that I have a job, and that I can pay my bills and my mortgage....but I am really ready for a change in scenery now!

Tomorrow, I will be taking my totally stressed out and aching body to J and R's for some R & R, which includes hot tubbing.

My back injury, which continues to haunt me, is in need, and Doc says it's finally OK to tub. The stress over the past couple of weeks has me way out of balance, and I twisted and re-injured myself a couple of days ago.

Two steps forward, one back.

I can't wait to hang out with friends, relax, and get some much needed hydrotherapy!

Yay!

I miss my husband.

He was here for 4 days over last weekend. We had a wonderful time, but it went by way too fast.

Now we are back to being 800 miles apart indefinitely.

That is the biggest reason for my scenery to change! It needs to , and soon.

The next chapter

My dear friend, and seamstress, displays the dress. She's holding it near the flowers I sent to her to thank her for her work. The flowers matched my wedding bouquet. (click image for larger view)

Apologies for the delay in posting.

My back injury prevented me from spending a lot of time at this desk, and then, my husband came into town for a 4 day visit.

Back to the pre-wedding story.

So, P, my friend who ended up making the dress, did not set out to make the dress herself!

I had done some shopping on line, and had found that the dresses I liked were way outside of my budget, which was basically very, very small.

My income barely gets me by!! Much less provides any extra for something as extravagant as a wedding!!

P suggested I have a dress made, and she assured me that, as expensive as that idea SOUNDS, it would probably end up being less costly than a dress that was already made.

So, P helped me find a pattern, and she helped me find fabric....and she had a friend from church whose MOM was supposed to do the sewing for much less than I would spend for a pre-made dress of similar style.

I wanted something sort of vintage looking, since my engagement ring is from the 1920's.

Anyway, this friend of P's from her church, with the seamstress mom, left P's emails unanswered for too long.

As June 12th arrived (T-minus 30 days from the wedding!), we still had no confirmation! As far as we knew, there was no one to do the job.

In desperation, P said "I will make the dress myself!"

She said this, because I had counted on her friend to come through for me.

I had not ordered a dress on line. I had not found ANYTHING I liked in stores. I needed someone to make me something.

And, I needed someone to start NOW!

(aside: P FINALLY heard from her friend from church about 2 weeks AFTER she said she would just make the dress herself...which was then 2 weeks before the wedding. The response was "No, my mom doesn't have time." Gee, thanks for letting us know!!)

What a huge responsibility this was!

Not only was she going to make my dress, but she had also planned a henna party for the night before the wedding! She had sent out invitations, and had hired a henna artist, and was taking all of that on, in lieu of a "shower."

Her wedding gift to me was the henna party...so I assured her that I would pay her, if only with massage sessions, for making the dress.

My heart swelled with appreciation for all she was doing!

The dress process went along without a hitch after P took the job. I was SO relieved!

So, I had decided on what I wanted to carry for flowers when we selected the fabric for my dress.

The dark chocolate background was a faux "burn out" type of fabric, sheer in places, opaque in places. Upon the background, as mentioned in my last post, were colors.

The colors take the vague shape of flowers and ribbons. There is sage green, tiger lily orange, and royal purple. The orange is in the actual shape of tiger lilies, so that was what I had hoped to carry. Tiger lilies are a popular summertime flower in this part of the country.

Since I only needed one bouquet, one small nosegay to use as the "throw away," something for my hair, and a boutineer, I did not bother to make an appointment with a florist.

My logic was that they can make a bouquet on short notice when you call and order something for a friend in the hospital or whatever. This would not be an order much larger than that. Not very complicated!!!

I decided I would just walk in to the florist that is closest to home, and make arrangements a week or so before the wedding.

On July 5th, after work (T-minus 8 days), I went to said florist shop. I was greeted at the door by a very rude woman, who was outside sweeping.

She was not a clueless teenager, but she acted like one.

Without any smile, or sign of courtesy or even interest, she asked, in a very flat voice, "Can I help you?"

She instantly made me feel as if my presence was a SUPREME inconvenience.

I had, apparently, interrupted a critical sweeping mission....or something.

I wanted to say , "I don't know, CAN you help me?" but I refrained.

I stepped into the shop, and she followed me. I could see three other employees through a window to the back room. They were leaning on a counter, talking and laughing.

I said, with a smile, "I need to talk to someone about a small wedding."

She did not smile. She did not behave professionally.

She rolled her eyes, and said "Oh, you can't just come in here and talk to someone about a wedding. (she actually sneered at me here) You need an appointment."

She reached for a 3 ring binder and opened it. "When is good for you?"

I said, "Well, actually, NOW is good for me, because all I need to do is talk to someone. I have a question or two."

"NO, didn't you hear me? I said you can't talk to anyone without an appointment! When is good for you?" (she was almost, but not quite, raising her voice)

She was amazingly rude and unprofessional.

As I mentioned before, there were three employees in the back room, being paid to stand around talking. I could not understand why I could not just talk to someone about a wedding.
Maybe one of them needed something to DO...you know.... to actually earn what she was being paid to stand around gossiping!!

So, I responded: "Like I said, now is good for me. I'm here now, and I need to talk to someone. Do you mean to tell me that I can't even ask a question? All I need is one bouquet! It's a very small affair!"

"ONE? (another obvious and insulting sneer WITH a rolling of the eyes!) Well, why didn't you say so?" and before I could defend myself to the beeotch, she had shut the binder with a loud thud, had made a "tisk" sound with her tongue, and was storming toward the back room in disgust.

She slammed her way through the swinging door into the back room, where the other women were still chatting.

I saw her go in and talk to them, she pointed out to me, and everyone turned to look.

I smiled and waved, still trying to be friendly, happy, and courteous!

A different woman came out to greet me, through a different door. The first woman came through the door she had used, took up her broom again, and went back outside to continue her critical sweeping mission.

God save any OTHER customers who might interrupt her, I thought.

Well, the second woman was NO BETTER!

She did not smile.
She did not greet me.
She merely came out of the back, leaned her hands on the counter, and looked at me, head cocked.

I said. "Hi." She continued to just look at me.

I said ....finally with an edge to my voice...."OK then! If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to order a few flowers for a very small wedding on July 12th."

She took out and order form, and took my order, grudgingly.
Tiger lilies are not GROWN for FLORISTS (she presented this information as if I were the world's stupidest person). Would an orange lily do?
Yes, that's fine.
We chose ribbon.
I chose one single purple rose to represent my parents (the purple rose is called "silver" by floral enthusiasts, and the silver rose has meaning in my family).
We ironed out details.

Never did she smile.
Never did she suggest anything useful.

She took my money.

She handed me my order slip, and told me what time the flowers would be ready on the wedding day.

No smile. Ever. During our entire encounter.

No thank yous.

No courtesy.

She merely turned, swung back through her door, and went back to gossiping.

If I had not really needed the flowers to come from a place close to home, making it easy for me to go pick them up myself the morning of the wedding, I would never have proceeded after the first woman treated me like crap.

But, I felt like I was a bit trapped. I needed this place of business to help make my wedding day less stressful....but they sure were NOT very happy do to so!

NEVER, and I do mean NEVER.... will I do business with them again! Anyone googling Phillips flowers on Main St. in Lombard may read this and decide the same thing. I hope.

The end result was beautiful, because flowers are beautiful.... but I was treated like SHIT!!!

Ultimately, my sister offered to come over on the wedding day to help me get ready, which I had not even thought about asking her to do....and she went and did the flower pick up for me, bless her.

Anyway....I had planned to include in this post some stuff about the henna party, and the story of why I asked my ex father in law to walk me down the aisle, but this post is already long enough, I think.

I will save the rest for next time!

Where was I?

Oh yeah...we had set the date, the condo went on the market, and it was up to me to plan a wedding!!

I asked my sister to be my matron of honor. She accepted

You may remember that we had decided to ask my friend, F, who is legally ordained, to perform the ceremony when I was in Oklahoma in May.

I came home from that trip and asked her, and she accepted.

Somewhere in the process, D also asked someone else to perform the ceremony. He told me about it after he did it, and then said "oops."
I was a little confused, but I was happy that he did it, because the person he asked was the woman who introduced us...C...a.k.a. The Universe.

As far as I knew, she was not ordained, so I told D; Ok....now we have invited TWO people to officiate, and they will just have to figure out who is going to do what between themselves.

At first he apologized, but it was all good.

I then suggested D ask M, the husband of our second officiant, to be his best man, and to take pictures of the ceremony and reception. He thought that was a grand idea, and he took care of that detail.

I sat at the computer and typed out the basic outline he and I had come up with, and sent it to the two people who would be officiating, with the instructions that they get together on it, via email, and make it work.

One thing I could stop worrying about.

Then, I decided to do a very informal type of reception (by way of an appetizer pot luck, with the guests providing food for all of us), and a very informal invitation.

My sister and brother in law had practically begged me to have a party on the wedding day, and that became the basic plan for the reception.

The invitation text was sent to D's brother to do the graphics (and I managed to use the wrong zip code for the party address), and he returned the end product via an email attachment.

He used a lovely art deco style font, added some clip art, and it looked perfect. After I had him correct my typos, of course!

I had asked for a full size version for emailing to friends, but I never got that...so the friends who were invited via email got a miniaturized version, that appeared twice on their screen. Sideways.

This was because what they were looking at was intended to be printed out onto a sheet of paper and cut in half to make two paper invitations!

I have never quite been sure why I never got the full size version, but time was passing, and I couldn't wait any longer to start inviting people.

So, the double mini invites worked OK for some of the email people, who could open the attachment and see the text well enough to read it. *rolls eyes* For those who couldn't see it, I replied to their bewildered emails with "here's the text of what you couldn't see...come to our party!!"

For everyone else's invitations, I sent the image to F to print out on nice linen type paper for mailing.

For work, I just made photo copies of the two image sheet on the office copier, cut them, and put a stack in the lunch room.

Like I said, very informal.

For the ones that were mailed, I had gotten some linen colored note cards with envelopes, took the linen style paper invites, folded them up, and put them in the envelopes. I wrote the CORRECT zip code for the reception (for those using on-line mapping to get there) on the back of each envelope.

Done. One less thing to worry about.

Then, my sister and I started talking about the reception in greater detail. I had said that I would provide all of the champagne, and a wide selection of beers, preferably all locally produced, and Portillo's chocolate cake for the wedding cake,

The pot luck idea was being cheered as a great idea by people who had already gotten their invitations.
This was an idea that sprung up when my sister started talking about catering fees, and where would we put the rented "hot tables" and all of that....

I wanted simple and informal, and I simply could not AFFORD catering, so I drew the line and said "It's a pot luck. Period!"

My sister offered to rent champagne glasses and plates, and she borrowed tables and a tent from a neighbor.

Then, on their own, she and F went to a party store and got napkins, plastic cutlery, and a cake serving set for us for a gift. They also got table decorations.

I had not asked them to spend any money, or do any jobs, but they took these expenses and tasks upon themselves with great enthusiasm and relish, and they would not take no for an answer!
My sister insisted that, as matron of honor, she had to DO SOMETHING!

I had planned to do these things myself, but was, in the long run, relieved to have someone else taking care of some of the details.

My dress, which was being made by hand by my dear dance friend, P, was dark chocolate brown with a pattern that included sage green and tiger lily orange, so the theme was sort of tiger lilies, which bloom around here in abundance in July.

They got green napkins, but could not find the right shade, but that did not matter at all.

We discussed getting tiger lilies for the tables.

About a month before the wedding, my job was to go to my favorite liquor store, which I affectionately call booze-o-rama (Sam's wines and spirits), and select the bubbly beverages.

I bought a case of French champagne, and I selected several different varieties of local brews.
My sister and brother in law met me at the store, and we loaded everything in their car for them to take to their house in anticipation of the party.

One less thing to worry about.

Then, I tried to order the cakes, but the lady at Portillo's catering assured me that I did not need to order the cakes more than a couple of days in advance.

Yet another worry put to rest. At least temporarily.

Everything was done that could be until closer to the wedding.

I gave myself a couple of weeks to breathe. The RSVP's started coming in, and the dress was being made, and there was really nothing more I needed to do!

Next time, how I was treated at the florist, the dress, the henna party, some of the final details, and why I asked my ex father in law to walk me down the aisle!

Playoff game!

Every once in a while, I get special treatment at work.

My boss and his family are devoted Chicago White Sox fans. They have season tickets, and they have a private box. (the boss's wife comes from big money...very big money.)

When the Sox made the playoffs, they got a large quantity of playoff tickets.
My boss offered me a pair for Monday....IF they won on Sunday, and continued on.

Well, they did win on Sunday, and so there was a game on Monday. They scheduled it for 4:00. But they did not schedule it until the game on Sunday was won!

So, my normal work schedule is 8 am to 4 pm, AND yesterday was the first day for a new trainee. I do all of the training in the office.

I got to work yesterday, assuming that the boss would tell me, too bad...so sorry...you can't leave early today, so I gave the tickets to ....... fill in the blank.

But he didn't.

He helped me figure out how to leave early, and I DID, and I got my brother to go to the game with me! (my sister in law, the Sox fan, was my first choice, but she was out of town.)

While my brother and I are dyed in the wool CHICAGO CUBS fans, how often do we get to go to post season play off games of ANY KIND?
Well, in my case, NEVER!

SO this was a really cool opportunity.

I clapped and cheered and booed at the right times, and I really did hope they'd win, since my Cubbies had lost at the exact same "level" of the season as this game was for the Sox.

The Sox lost.

The Cubs and Sox made it exactly the same distance this season. Perfectly equal.

It was really cool to be at a major league post season game for the first time.
It was also very cool to get to hang out with my brother for something like this (or for anything, for that matter...we usually see one another once or twice a year).

He briefed me in the car about the players and the statistics.

I knew very little about the Sox going in, because I basically ignore them all season!

My brother's life is also : breathe, eat, sleep, baseball....so he knows his stuff. MUCH more than I do, to be sure.

By the time we got there, I felt prepared with basic info about the players. It helped!

We did our best to ignore the insulting things Sox fans say about Cubs fans (on their t shirts, and with their mouths!), and we sort of just blended in. I borrowed a White Sox sweatshirt from my sister in law, so no one questioned my loyalty, or threatened me with harm of any kind.

My brother, on the other hand, struck up conversations with those around us, and was not afraid to "come out" as a Cub fan!

At least no one dumped beer over his head.

Sox fans are really overly rude about us for some reason. We (meaning Cub fans) don't insult them, or have nearly as many nasty t-shirts for sale out side of OUR park!

Anyway...it was fun, and it was nice to be allowed to leave work early, to go see a pro ball game on the boss's dime!

We got to see them shoot off fireworks for 2 Sox home runs (I'd never seen that in person before), and we got to see a major league team, the Devil Rays (I think that's their name...they're in the American League, about which I am clueless), rush the mound in celebration.

I also got to see the Sox stadium FULL. I'd never seen that before. Sox fans are not nearly as ardent as Cub fans, in terms of attending regular season games.

Wrigley Field is full for EVERY game, no matter what....Sox park, on the other hand, is frequently only partially full.

Since I'd only been to 2 Sox games before ever in my life, during regular season play, I'd never seen their park actually FULL.

So that was cool.

All in all, it was very enjoyable, and a rare opportunity.

I am, in a way, sorry that they lost...But on the other hand, that is proof that the Sox are no better than the Cubs, no matter how obnoxious their fans may be in stating the opposite!

Just stuff

So, my place has been on the market for four months, but I can't tell anyone at work.

This is because my boss is unpredictable, and sometimes heartless, and often mean. If he knew I was planning to leave, he could decide at the drop of a hat to let me go. Or demote me. Or something along those lines.

He's done this before.

I can't afford to lose my job, or a penny of my income, while I still have a mortgage.

Unless, of course, I choose to just file bankruptcy, and let my home go on foreclosure.

I COULD do that. I could just walk away, and let my credit rating go down the toilet. People DO that sort of thing. Intentionally, even.

But I can't bring myself to allow that. I have worked hard to recover from being married to someone who ruined my credit. I have earned every point in that score!!!

And, what's more, I don't want to enter into another marriage and ruin my spouse's credit, which is already teetering.

Turn about is definitely NOT fair play in this realm!

So, I wait.

In other news, I just got home from the dentist. I had not been for 2 years, because I could not afford the bills. My dentist is compassionate about that, and lets me make payments, but I have not been in a place where I could comfortably manage payments.

I still am not, but, now that I have insurance through my husband, I was able to go.

Or, so I thought.

Unfortunately, the insurance only covers about a quarter of my charges...so...my confidence was high, and I have appointments to restore my dental health....but now, I am going to have to deal with a HUGE bill. I will be paying this one for years to come, I fear.

My back injury is on the mend. I am still not 100%, but the improvement is evident.

Sitting here in this computer chair, at this ergonomic nightmare of a desk, however, it not conducive to my being comfortable.

So, have a good weekend, and I will be back another time.