The Wedding Week
I picked up my mom at the airport on Monday night and Kevin and I took her to dinner at Mexicali Rose. This was the site of one of our very first dates and is located just a block away from where Kevin first lived when we started dating. It?s got a very interesting interior and has been voted Best Restaurant in New Jersey the last five years in a row. She loved it.

After dinner she and I went back to her hotel and we hung out for a while. It was nice just hanging with my mom.

The next morning I picked her up and we had breakfast at a place called the Tick Tock Diner before heading over to the train station. It took forever to find parking but once we did it was all good. We headed into New York and from Penn Station walked north on Fifth Avenue to the Plaza Hotel while stopping to window shop along the way. We had a blast. I love Tiffany?s. I saw the most wonderful necklace that I am still coveting.

After we were done playing we headed over to the Imperial Theater and saw The Boy From Oz starring the hotter-than-hot Hugh Jackman. ::sigh:: So pretty! We had kick-ass seats. I mean, really. We were roughly twenty feet from the stage and dead center. He looked right at me twice. It was amazing. Hi, Hugh!

The next morning my mom and I got manicures and pedicures and then went to a tea-house in Sussex County where I introduced her for the first time to Kevin?s mom and sister. We had so much fun drinking tea and eating these teeny little finger sandwiches. It was a riot. Yes, I said a riot.

The following day MORE family flew in and it was a bit of a debacle. My dad arrived at Terminal A and my aunt and cousins arrived at Terminal C and then we had to rent them a car at Terminal P2. Getting everyone to where they all needed to be was a little time consuming but it all got taken care of.

From the airport I took everyone back out to Sussex County where Kevin?s parents were having a barbeque. We all ate, drank and were merry. I had a great time. They had a shower for us and it was so fun to watch the families meld together.

The only bad part came when I had to drive all the way home to Bloomfield that night. I left at about ten and was dreading the hour in the car until up on the horizon I noticed something. Not only was the moon tremendous, but it was orange. The big, orange moon played hide-and-seek with me in the trees all the way home. It was a beautiful.

Friday was cloudy and chilly and for the first time I started to think that Saturday might not be nice weather. I packed my stuff for the weekend (stupidly forgetting things like PAJAMAS) and headed back up to Sussex County. We caravanned to the Inn at Panther Valley, checked in and a few minutes later my brother, sister and sister?s boyfriend showed up. We hugged and laughed and commented on how long the trip had taken. They drove from Iowa to Jersey in eighteen hours. Well, my sister?s boyfriend drove most of the trip so he gets major props for taking that one for the team and getting them all to the hotel safe and sound. Within another hour my friend Joy arrived and we went up to my room to hang out.

The rehearsal began at four and we practiced the outside version and the inside version. I was incredibly calm until at the end of the rehearsal when I was surrounded on all sides by people firing questions at me. It was a little overwhelming. That was the beginning of what would accumulate into a big, fat meltdown later the next day.

But I?m getting ahead of myself. From Panther Valley we went to the Lafayette House for the dinner and after a little bit more tension we all sat down and ate. I had two glasses of wine and some champagne and then I was pretty much good to go. We gave out our gifts for people and everyone had a great time.

After the dinner we all went our respective ways. My family back to Panther Valley, Kevin?s back to their house. A little bit of celebrating ensued. Laughing, talking, reminiscing, accusations of pregnancy?you know, the usual.

The next morning I was up at seven and at the hair place by eight. They did a beautiful job on my hair and at nine-thirty I was at the make-up place. By ten-thirty I was done and back at the room where I hung out with Joy, Kim, Jennie, Colleen, my aunt Kathy, my mom, and waited for the photographer to arrive. At about ten to twelve I got in my dress and we started taking pictures. Kevin and I displayed a flagrant disregard for propriety by having our pictures taken before the ceremony but let me tell you, it was so worth it. After the ceremony (which we?ll get to) we went right into cocktail hour and the reception. There was no waiting around with the pictures while my guests partied down in the next room.

Where was I? Oh, yes, the pictures. After the pictures the guys left the room and the girls all went downstairs where there was more tension and realizing that we would have to get married inside because of the weather and forgetting who doesn?t take checks and signing the license and what-not. I have to say that I was expecting this marvelous moment of catharsis when I would sign my name with a flourish, look up and be married. Didn?t happen. My sister signed, then our friend Bob signed and that was it. We were married. Before the ceremony and without me really noticing. It wasn?t a good feeling.

The pianist arrived then and needed to be shown where to go and my bridesmaids disappeared except for Jennie and Kim and there was another moment of tension when I couldn?t find anyone to help me answer all the questions being thrown at me by the minister, pianist and florist and others and it was all so overwhelming and difficult that I started to lose it in the lobby. My mom, Jennie, Kim and my aunt got me back to the room where I asked to be ?let out? of my dress. After taking it off I put on a denim shirt over my underwear, hose and heals and sat on the floor and seriously let go. I was crying so hard I got stomach cramps. It wasn?t pretty. My mom was great, though. She just held my shoulders, gave me Kleenex and kept telling me it was okay.

After I calmed down a bit and wiped my face I felt a lot better. The release had happened. When four o?clock came I was completely fine again. My mom and dad both walked me down the aisle and as I walked I saw nothing but smiling faces and happiness.

People told me later that during the ceremony I was beaming and I believe them because I felt like I was. Once we were up there I gave my flowers to my sister and Kevin and I just held hands and I sort of stopped paying attention to what the minister was saying which resulted in me answering one of the questions wrong ? luckily not the important question. The room had a good laugh and it broke the ice. After that I paid more attention.

We only had about forty people there and after we kissed they threw rose petals at us as we walked down the aisle to the receiving line. When that was over I went back to the getting-ready room changed out of my fancy white heals and into the pink cons I?d gotten when I visited Joy and we headed for the cocktail hour.

The great thing about having a small wedding is that we made all the rounds in that one hour and spent the rest of the night on the dance floor. Seriously. I danced every dance. Somebody told me I was the ?coolest little bride ever? because I only came off the floor to get water and pull people on. I had a blast. We danced to Fat Bottomed Girls, Bust-a-Move, Stuck in the Middle with You, Teenage Wedding, I?ve Loved These Days, Let it Bleed and more. I?ve never had so much fun at a wedding reception.

Throughout the reception I kept turning to people and announcing, ?I?m MARRIED!? partly in a state of excitement and partly in a state of shock. They kept answering, ?I know!?

Afterward, Kevin and I changed in our room and headed for the pub. We partied. Then we went back to the room with some friends and we partied some more. It was awesome.

Finally everyone left and we went to sleep. Yes, you read that right. It was late and we were both wasted.

Thought we were done? Not even close. The next morning I woke up at eight (I know, I?m a freak), met people for breakfast and coordinated the rest of the day.

I had rellies in town who wanted to see the city. Being the accommodating host that I am, I gladly arranged for us to go into New York. We had a such a great time. I showed them the Theatre District and Midtown. On the way to the city the bus driver told us the wrong gate number to catch the return bus so we were almost stranded but luckily we caught another bus to a stop that wasn?t too far away and Kevin picked us up. It was a bit of a debacle, but since he hadn?t gone into the city with us, it was all okay. Of course that meant that he and I didn?t spend our first day as a married couple together but it was fine.

It was my parents? last day in town so after he picked us up, we got my dad who had hung out at the hotel while we were in the city and went to dinner at a diner. After that we dropped them back off at the hotel and Kevin and I went home.

Once there we watched the Season Finale of the Sopranos (awesome), opened cards (a little shocking) and went to bed.

The next morning we picked up my parents at the hotel, took them to breakfast and then the airport and spent the rest of the day catching up on the practicalities of life. We did four loads of laundry, got all the grocery shopping done, checked the ten thousand emails received in the last few days, bought an air conditioner which we then proceeded to install incorrectly, took a walk around the park where we got engaged, watched Big Fish and went to bed.

Today was my first day back at work and it was a definite jolt. Now that all this nonsense is over look for more regular (i.e. daily) entries and as soon as I get some pictures.

Hey, you guys. I?m MARRIED!!!

Irritations
This morning I had to go to the mall to pick up some last-minutes stuff for the wedding (i.e. white stockings, dress for the rehearsal dinner, etc.). What I forgot is that today is Memorial Day and our town always has a parade on national holidays. So I got stuck in traffic and had to wait for the parade to end before I could get going. Then, I get to the mall and my tailor is closed. CLOSED! He told me last weekend that he?d be open so that I could pick up my dress. Now I have to go back sometime this week, which would be fine if the entire week weren?t already planned out. Bastard!

Side-note: I?m listening to Jagged Little Pill as I type this and I?m realizing that Alanis was a lot more interesting when she was angry. Her new song, ?Everything?? Sucks as bad as the rest of the crap she?s written since that first album. Get angry Alanis. Get angry and maybe I'll start listening to you again.

Healthy Lipstick
I read somewhere once that women eat something like five to ten pounds of lipstick every year. Gross, right? After that I didn?t wear lipstick for the longest time but now that I wear it everyday it got me thinking. If this statistic is correct, why don?t cosmetic companies add healthy stuff to lipstick? Calcium, protein or even vitamins would be an excellent addition to something you have to have on your mouth and will probably consume, anyway. Healthy lipstick. Someone needs to take this idea and run with it.

Random Thought
I was just reading in one of the local newspapers about the craptacular reality of property taxes. The complaint is that if you own a house but don?t have kids then you?re paying to educate someone else?s child. The problem with this complaint is the social responsibility we all have to educate the next crop of youngsters.

The arguments goes on and on but I think I have a suggestion. Property taxes should not be property taxes. The government taxes your property but the end result is pubic school education. The tax should be called Education Tax and everyone who has a vested interest in a community (i.e. homeowners) should pay x amount. If you have a child you should pay x + 1. If you have two children you should pay x + 2 and so on. This way, everyone is holding up their end of the social responsibility, but those who actually benefit from the system put more in that those who don?t. Problem solved.

And don't give me that schlock about how this makes it a penality to have kids. Having kids is not a right it's a privilege.

Ten Days and Counting?.
In ten days I will be someone?s wife. We went to get the license yesterday and after the 72-hour wait period we will have a license to marry. Talk about life-changing experiences. I will be so glad when it?s all over and done with. On the current to-do list: get a haircut, get a garter, do the table seating, arrange the receiving line, make sure out-of-towners are renting a car, get white stockings, plan the schedule for that day, keep track of the rings, pick up license next week, buy thank you notes for the attendants, write thank you notes out, and wrap gifts for attendants. Add to that the non-wedding-related to-dos that have to get done and I am one busy girl.

And on top of everything else the 17-year life cycle of the cicadas is about to begin and when they hatch Jersey will be overrun with these red-eyed bugs that screech all night long. I can only hope that they wait another week and a half to come up from the ground. If they will just wait then I won?t even care if it rains that day. Duh. Except that if it rains we won?t be outside anyway and then the cicadas won?t matter. Gah! When did I get stupid?? I used to be smart. Honest. No, really!

Gah!

The Gas-Out, Other Options And Money
Some of the comments have expressed confusion over what a ?Gas-Out? is. A ?Gas-Out? is a boycott of gasoline purchases for one day. The theory is that one day of no profits will hurt the oil companies so much that they?ll lower their prices to keep from it ever happening again. As we saw last week, they don?t work.

As for the question from England regarding other options, the problem is that Ford, GM, and Chrysler give so much money to the government through campaign donations, etc., that the government won?t impose mandates on them regarding necessary miles per gallon.

Added to that the oil companies who also give money for the same purpose. If car companies started making automobiles that use fewer gallons of gas per mile it would cut into oil company profits because people would be buying less gas.

It all comes back to money. Now, I?m not suggesting that Democrats don?t take bribes, campaign donations or other ?soft money? contributions. Pretty much once you?re part of the government on any level, you?re probably crooked. That?s the way politics work.

What I do believe is that where Republicans will screw you over hard, Democrats will at least take you out to dinner and get you drunk first.

The Illusion of Control
On Tuesday night this week I received two forwards asking that I participate in the gas-out. The movement was supposed to encompass millions of people who would refuse to buy gas on Wednesday. Well, unfortunately, I was bone-dry and really needed gas. So on Wednesday morning I filled up. I paid $2.17 per gallon.

Last night as I passed the gas station I go to, I noticed that the price of gas is now $2.22 per gallon. Do you know what this means? Everyone who wouldn?t buy gas on Wednesday now has to gas up for the weekend and must pay five cents more a gallon. Basically, it?s a great big ?Piss off!? from the oil companies who know that we have to come crawling back at some point and when we do we can expect to get hammered.

What we have is only the illusion of control. We can pretend that we make a difference by getting together and boycotting gas for one day but in the end they know we need it and they?re going to make us pay for any attempt at controlling them.

If we really want to make a difference we should be getting ready for the election in November. More and more prisoner interviews and pictures are coming out and the result is that we are becoming (if we weren?t already) one of the most hated countries in the world. A change in leadership is paramount.

I?ve said it before and I?ll say it again. Just like the Roman Empire, our American Empire is crumbling stone by stone.

Worth Repeating
Stee posted this as a link, but you need a password to read it. For those of you who don't frequent Plaintive Wail or who don't have a password, I'm posting the article in its entirety.

From the New York Times:

A War for Us, Fought by Them
By WILLIAM BROYLES Jr.
Wilson, Wyoming - The longest love affair of my life began with a shotgun marriage. It was the height of the Vietnam War and my student deferment had run out. Desperate not to endanger myself or to interrupt my personal plans, I wanted to avoid military service altogether. I didn't have the resourcefulness of Bill Clinton, so I couldn't figure out how to dodge the draft. I tried to escape into the National Guard, where I would be guaranteed not to be sent to war, but I lacked the connections of George W. Bush, so I couldn't slip ahead of the long waiting list. My attitude was the same as Dick Cheney's: I was special, I had "other priorities." Let other people do it.

When my draft notice came in 1968, I was relieved in a way. Although I had deep doubts about the war, I had become troubled about how I had angled to avoid military service. My classmates from high school were in the war; my classmates from college were not ? exactly the dynamic that exists today. But instead of reporting for service in the Army, on a whim I joined the Marine Corps, the last place on earth I thought I belonged.

My sacrifice turned out to be minimal. I survived a year as an infantry lieutenant in Vietnam. I was not wounded; nor did I struggle for years with post-traumatic stress disorder. A long bout of survivor guilt was the price I paid. Others suffered far more, particularly those who had to serve after the war had lost all sense of purpose for the men fighting it. I like to think that in spite of my being so unwilling at first, I did some small service to my country and to that enduring love of mine, the United States Marine Corps.

To my profound surprise, the Marines did a far greater service to me. In three years I learned more about standards, commitment and yes, life, than I did in six years of university. I also learned that I had had no idea of my own limits: when I was exhausted after humping up and down jungle mountains in 100-degree heat with a 75-pound pack, terrified out of my mind, wanting only to quit, convinced I couldn't take another step, I found that in fact I could keep going for miles. And my life was put in the hands of young men I would otherwise never have met, by and large high-school dropouts, who turned out to be among the finest people I have ever known.

I am now the father of a young man who has far more character than I ever had. I joined the Marines because I had to; he signed up after college because he felt he ought to. He volunteered for an elite unit and has served in both Afghanistan and Iraq. When I see images of Americans in the war zones, I think of my son and his friends, many of whom I have come to know and deeply respect. When I opened this newspaper yesterday and read the front-page headline, "9 G.I.'s Killed," I didn't think in abstractions. I thought very personally.

The problem is, I don't see the images of or read about any of the young men and women who, as Dick Cheney and I did, have "other priorities." There are no immediate family members of any of the prime civilian planners of this war serving in it ? beginning with President Bush and extending deep into the Defense Department. Only one of the 535 members of Congress, Senator Tim Johnson of South Dakota, has a child in the war ? and only half a dozen others have sons and daughters in the military.

The memorial service yesterday for Pat Tillman, the football star killed in Afghanistan, further points out this contrast. He remains the only professional athlete of any sport who left his privileged life during this war and turned in his play uniform for a real one. With few exceptions, the only men and women in military service are the profoundly patriotic or the economically needy.

It was not always so. In other wars, the men and women in charge made sure their family members led the way. Since 9/11, the war on terrorism has often been compared to the generational challenge of Pearl Harbor; but Franklin D. Roosevelt's sons all enlisted soon after that attack. Both of Lyndon B. Johnson's sons-in-law served in Vietnam.

This is less a matter of politics than privilege. The Democratic elites have not responded more nobly than have the Republican; it's just that the Democrats' hypocrisy is less acute. Our president's own family illustrates the loss of the sense of responsibility that once went with privilege. In three generations the Bushes have gone from war hero in World War II, to war evader in Vietnam, to none of the extended family showing up in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Pat Tillman didn't want to be singled out for having done what other patriotic Americans his age should have done. The problem is, they aren't doing it. In spite of the president's insistence that our very civilization is at stake, the privileged aren't flocking to the flag. The war is being fought by Other People's Children. The war is impersonal for the very people to whom it should be most personal.

If the children of the nation's elites were facing enemy fire without body armor, riding through gantlets of bombs in unarmored Humvees, fighting desperately in an increasingly hostile environment because of arrogant and incompetent civilian leadership, then those problems might well find faster solutions.

The men and women on active duty today ? and their companions in the National Guard and the reserves ? have seen their willingness, and that of their families, to make sacrifices for their country stretched thin and finally abused. Thousands of soldiers promised a one-year tour of duty have seen that promise turned into a lie. When Eric Shinseki, then the Army chief of staff, told the president that winning the war and peace in Iraq would take hundreds of thousands more troops, Mr. Bush ended his career. As a result of this and other ill-advised decisions, the war is in danger of being lost, and my beloved military is being run into the ground.

This abuse of the voluntary military cannot continue. How to ensure adequate troop levels, with a diversity of backgrounds? How to require the privileged to shoulder their fair share? In other words, how to get today's equivalents of Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Dick Cheney ? and me ? into the military, where their talents could strengthen and revive our fighting forces?

The only solution is to bring back the draft. Not since the 19th century has America fought a war that lasted longer than a week with an all-volunteer army; we can't do it now. It is simply not built for a protracted major conflict. The arguments against the draft ? that a voluntary army is of higher quality, that the elites will still find a way to evade service ? are bogus. In World War II we used a draft army to fight the Germans and Japanese ? two of the most powerful military machines in history ? and we won. The problems in the military toward the end of Vietnam were not caused by the draft; they were the result of young Americans being sent to fight and die in a war that had become a disaster.

One of the few good legacies of Vietnam is that after years of abuses we finally learned how to run the draft fairly. A strictly impartial lottery, with no deferments, can ensure that the draft intake matches military needs. Chance, not connections or clever manipulation, would determine who serves.

If this war is truly worth fighting, then the burdens of doing so should fall on all Americans. If you support this war, but assume that Pat Tillman and Other People's Children should fight it, then you are worse than a hypocrite. If it's not worth your family fighting it, then it's not worth it, period. The draft is the truest test of public support for the administration's handling of the war, which is perhaps why the administration is so dead set against bringing it back.


William Broyles Jr., the founding editor of Texas Monthly, wrote the screenplay for "Cast Away."

Pumpkin
I kid you not, this is my cat.

Bush's Approval Rating At An All-Time Low
I wonder why....