check back on July 12

Last Sunday, Jon and I went out to eat with cc at Royal Thai, where she and I especially enjoy the sticky rice with mango. After a great meal (Hooray, Jon has decided to un-blacklist this cuisine), the server brought some fortune cookies back with our check.

In this photo, you'll find the fortune I received (bottom) and his (top). I believe cc got something standard like "You are a beautiful person" or whatnot.


I know these are mass-produced, but for some reason the fact that they're not exactly the same makes it seem more spooky. I try not to be as superstitious as my peeps from the Motherland, but I can't help but wonder what we have in store for us on July 12.

I hope it's REALLY GOOD.

jon and cadiz in the department store

"Hey Mr. 20/20, tell me what that sign says way down there. Dresses have got to be around here somewhere."

"Men, Boys, Girls, Home, Women's Sizes."

"Women's sizes? What the heck does that mean?"

"You know, Women's Sizes. That's where all the men go to buy their women. They have them in all sizes."

"Is that right? So where did you get your woman then?"

"Internet."

"Oh yeah?"

"Definitely. Everyone knows all the best deals are online."

we may not have money, but we are rich

When I was a kid, I took a field trip to a prestigious, gorgeous, foreboding building where really smart people did impressive stuff. I turned to a friend and said, "I'm going to work here someday." And I actually made that happen. At the end of my very last shift there, I emptied my drawer, packed up my nameplate, put on my pink coat and turned to leave the enormous open room in which everyone rolls up their sleeves and gets the job done every night. And these people I respect, a lot of whom I hadn't really had the chance to speak to, began to applaud. All the way until I made it out the door.

I can't express that feeling. I had seen them do that for people before, but only ones who I thought had been there for a long time. As a two-year contract person whose time was up, I never dreamed that I deserved such a send-off. It was an unexpected and touching moment that I will never forget.

Last week, nearly five years to the day Jon* and I found each other in the comments of Jazz's blog, I had another of those moments. After 31 straight days of being two impossibly pointy thorns in the side of everybody within reach/phone/Internet, begging for votes to help us into the top 50 in Crate&Barrel/Daily Candy's Ultimate Wedding Contest, we were humbled by the results.

Unfortunately, we didn't crack that dang Top 50. But I am not sad in the least. After the fraudulent votes (I guess we had three) were thrown out, we placed 70th with a total of 764 votes. AND THAT IS DAMN IMPRESSIVE, FOLKS, considering there were what I believe to be thousands of other entries to choose from. Scrolling through them all, I am so amazed at how far we got. Especially because we were up against competition with touching stories of cancer, service to city and country, sexual discrimination and paralysis. Sure, we have our share of troubles, but in the face of that stuff it's a wonder we had a chance at all. But we did have a chance! We even hovered between 60th and 70th place. And that is no small feat.


And we never could have done it without you.


So to every single one of you who:

a) took time out of your busy day to follow the links and vote for us
b) re-posted us on facebook or twitter or here or here or here or here or here or here**
c) put a note in your church bulletin
d) got us a shoutout on a sports radio talkshow in Mobile, AL (thanks, bro)
e) nagged your significant other/friends/parents/neighbors
f) tried to incentivize voting to your students/others under your command
g) received harassing faxes/phonecalls/letters/emails/lectures from my mother
h) voted from (cough)made(cough) more than one email address
i) translated our story into other languages for your family in other countries to vote
j) had all your coworkers vote even though they don't know us
k) badgered celebrities to try and sponsor us to win
l) did stuff to garner votes for us that we didn't even HEAR ABOUT

there are no words to adequately capture how much we appreciate your efforts. This was an unexpected and touching experience, and we will never forget it.


Jon and I are going back to the original 2013 wedding date, and hope to save enough to have a wedding worthy of how much love and support we have around us. But there are plenty of wedding contests still out there (are you reading this Good Morning America?).

Don't worry, we know we've already played our Vote For Us Card...for now.

We love each and every single one of you. Thank you so much again for showing us how loved we are.





*Yes, I'm retiring the "H" now that the cat's out of the bag and scratching up the furniture.
**We'd hate to have forgotten anyone. Please let us know if we did!

T-minus 3 days, 11 hours

Now that H and I, as well as our close friends, family and colleagues have annoyed the everloving socks off of everyone within ten miles with our pleas for votes, we have moved on to ABJECT BEGGING.

PLEASE VOTE! KARMA WILL BE GOOD TO YOU!

http://ultimateweddingcontest.com/entries/36688


Here are the very, very, very boiled-down facts:

H and I met in the comments of Jazz...in Strange Places, FIVE YEARS AGO. Before, as someone recently put it: "blogging became SO 2007."

None of us knew each other but after he and I got to doing so, we dated longdistance for 2.5 years. Then he moved to Chicago.

A whole lot of economy-related crap went down in terms of 4 layoffs in 5 years, underemployment and not being able to sell my house. H and I are thankful to have paychecks, but still working on getting healthcare for him. We realize we are not the only ones struggling with these problems.

We'd love to get married soon. But can't afford it until probably 2013.

So we entered this contest. We don't have to get the most votes, just the 50th-most votes.

And we actually have a shot! Last night we were closer than we've ever been, and don't need too many more to get in.

It's one vote per email address; you don't have to fill out any personal information beyond that.

No one has received spam.

Yes, we really did walk around downtown Chicago yesterday trying to get votes. (The idea of seeing someone throw your picture on the sidewalk is HUMBLING. I feel for those going-out-of-business-solicitors who get walked past every day).

If it's not obvious, we would be thrilled to make it into the top 50. In fact, I think it'd feel like victory, especially because the competition has become so fierce. AND WE LEGITIMATELY HAVE A CHANCE!

Contest ends Wednesday, March 31. Every single vote makes a difference (currently we're tied with another couple) and is GREATLY APPRECIATED!

PLEASE TAKE TWO MINUTES TO VOTE WITH ALL YOUR EMAIL ADDRESSES!

all we need now is a beret for H

Mythbusters: wedding contest edition

Let me tell you, folks, there are ALL KINDS of awesome experiments H and I conducted on video--a la Jamie and Adam from the hit television show--regarding fallacies about this wedding contest we've been crowing about for the entire month. Unfortunately, I am currently trapped in the land of dialup for employment reasons and unable to upload any, so you all will have to use your fine-tuned imaginations to picture them.


MYTH 1: You can only vote once. Busted.

I, myself, have four email addresses:

• The original yahoo address from college through which I still get newsletters from professional organizations and school affiliations.
• A gmail address I use for the bulk of messaging with people I know in real-life.
• A gmail address associated with this blog: cadiztwelve[at]gmail[dot]com
• Another yahoo devoted to sign-ups at stores and for sale emails, etc.

And as much as my coworkers swear I secretly voted for the couple who currently has the most votes because I was touched by their story (along with the rest of America), I voted for H with every single one. Seriously, even if you didn't want to vote for yourself, wouldn't you be compelled to vote for the person you want to spend the rest of your life with?



MYTH 2: The current leaders have a gajillion votes! Karen and Jon will never win! Unconfirmed.

This contest is set up as more than just a popularity contest. Yes, there are people with gajillions of votes, but being #1 only secures a gift certificate to C&B. All Top-50 candidates will be considered for the big prize. So we just have to get in that top 50 and hope that the judges think our story and our personalities are worthy of winning.


MYTH 3: Only people in the United States can vote. Busted

My cousin in Australia was pretty much the first one to vote for us. (Thanks, D!) It's the World-Wide Web! Tell your family on other continents!



MYTH 4: Voting for us will lead to some sort of spam in your inbox. Busted.

Not one of the 570 (so far) voters has mentioned any extraneous spam in their inboxes as a result of going to the Web site and entering their email addresses. Crate & Barrel requires every couple to register for 50 line items (meaning a set of glasses counts as one)/$2,000 worth of stuff. If you take a minute to look at how many couples have entered, you know C&B is getting great business there. Plus, I'm pretty sure if you are on some kind of mailing list, companies are required to offer an "unsubscribe" link so you can put a stop to them immediately.



MYTH 5: They are using your votes as market research. Busted.

It became clear that even some people who were supporting us by telling others hadn't voted themselves because they were wary of becoming statistics. It's pretty hard to market-research people based solely on email address (You don't have to give ANY PERSONAL INFO besides email address).



MYTH 6: You have plenty of time to still vote. Busted.

What exactly does "plenty" mean, anyway? THERE IS ONLY ONE WEEK LEFT. We have narrowed the gap between us and the 50th-place couple more than we imagined and we really have a shot at this! But I'm sure everyone else is making last-minute pleas to people, too, so we have to come back with more votes. So if you haven't already, please vote from all your email addresses! www.ultimateweddingcontest.com/entries/36688



Every single vote is greatly appreciated! WE HAVE A GENUINE SHOT AT THIS!

sometimes you just gotta ask

"You do know i'm talking to you from a brand-new iPhone, right? That I got fixed FOR FREE."

"You ARE?!?"

"Well I was WAITING for you to ask, and you weren't DOING IT!"

"Well, I was WAITING for you to tell me why you weren't available for several HOURS and YOU weren't doing IT!"

"OKAY THEN!"

"ALRIGHT! SO WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME HOW YOU MANAGED TO SWING THAT THEN!"

one of the best things about falling in love with another blogger is the joy of watching the rest of them figure it out

One thing I'll never say about people who read this blog is that they don't pay attention.

On February 14, 2006 I was on vacation in Simi Valley, CA, visiting H for the second time and celebrating Valentine's Day with the grand sum of my days off for the entire year: 4.

It was exciting, having this cross-country love affair with another blogger while trying to pretend in our posts that we were just friends who had never met. And it would have made for a truly awesome reveal. If I hadn't slipped up.

Apparently over in New York, Omar was having some sort of tooth problem. And being on vacation wasn't going to stop me from commenting about it. So I hopped onto H's computer, clicked on Omar and left what was probably a ridiculous and certainly an all-in-lowercase comment that made use of the word "toof." I didn't think twice and hit Post.

It wasn't until I got an email from Omar with the subject "CSI:Los Angeles" that I realized what went wrong. Because it was H's computer, all of HIS name/address information was saved on frequent sites. So I had made that very-Cadiz comment signed in as "Onj."

Here's what it said:

Let me preface this by saying that I don't mean to seem stalker-ish or nosey.

I check StatCounter roughly 150 times per day. I noticed a handful of hits from the dslextreme.com host. I assumed they were from Jon, as I think that's his service provider.

Then I checked my email, and saw your comments... from the same dslextreme.com host... in California?

THEN I double checked the last comment from Onj, on Feb 11th, about wanting to hear about the proposal... It seemed odd that Jon wanted to hear about the proposal. And using the word "toof"? AND the comment was all in lower case letters?

AND you haven't been posting/commenting much recently?

My CSI training tells me that either you're a hacker and you're spoofing Jon's IP address OR you're at Jon's computer.

This is totally none of my business. Please forgive my nosey-ness.

and then a follow up:

Or that Jon stole your identity. I left out that possibility.

my reply:

i know you're not stalker-ish. or nosey. and you're my boy. so of course i knew you'd figure it out. especially because i know you're addicted to your statcounter.

he TOTALLY stole my identity!

:)

nah, i'm here. at my boyfriend's computer. and i forgot to check the identity with which i was posting before i hit the button. oops. i knew that toof thing was going to be obvious, but i didn't realize people picked up that i never capitalize anything. omg, you think anyone else noticed?

Omar:

You absolutely could have continued with that "he stole my identity" story, and I would have believed it :)

Well that's fantastic news! I've never even MET another blogger, and you guys are dating?!? From halfway across the country?! I won't get all girly and ask details. Just know that I'm thrilled for both of you.

We've since met Omar (along with his gorgeous family) in person, and I can attest that they are every bit as cool as I had suspected all these years. Several other readers happened to piece together that H=Jon, including Becky, who I believe figured it out while lying awake at night trying to figure out how it all fit together.


btw, PLEASE VOTE FOR US! couples closest to the top 50 are making a serious push to get in and we STILL HAVE A SHOT! Here are some tips:

1) You can vote from more than one email address. BE SURE TO HIT the "logout" button in the top left corner. It's tiny.

2) You can post to your twitter, facebook and myspace from the actual www.ultimateweddingcontest.com page, right underneath our photo.

3) You can email every single person you know with the link...?

milestone: year 5

Holy cow, it's been FIVE YEARS since I started this blog in an effort not to go insane by myself in the middle of the night. WHO COULD HAVE PREDICTED ALL THAT WOULD HAPPEN?!?

First off, the folks I've met (both in-person and not) because of this thing are some of the kindest, most entertaining people on the planet. How unfathomable would it have been to hear that I'd be marrying one of them! Especially because not a lot of people knew what a blog was in 2005--it took a great deal of lengthy explaining to get my parents to understand that we met by BUMPING INTO EACH OTHER at Jazz in Strange Places, not by going out and looking (of course, there's absolutely nothing wrong with that). Trust me, if I were making requests I would have listed "Illinois resident" as a criterion. And then I would have completely missed out on H.

Second, in 2005 I was working at the dungeon, then the Canadian company, then the startup, then freelancing. And now I'm back to the employer whose summer checks kept me in Pokey Sticks, textbooks, cover fees and the occasional cup of coffee throughout college. As much as I mourn the fact that I don't get to use the skills I honed for a decade every single minute of the day anymore, it sure feels good to have benefits.

Third, relatively recently I loosened my grip on secrecy and put my photo up on the blog as well as sharing the address with, well, PRETTY MUCH EVERYONE I KNOW. That's progress, y'all. Especially for a control freak like myself.

But it just wouldn't be a blog anniversary without a recap. So indulge me. Here's what you missed:

Ten years can change a lot of the details, but the sentiment is the same. There's no such thing as a vacation from your life--and perhaps the best way to figure out where you're going is to take a good look at where you have been.

When I ripped open the wrapping paper that morning, I noticed that Brigitta Sylvia looked slightly different than the *real* Cabbage Patch Kids my friends had. But my mom--clever as always--put on the spin: My doll was WAY cooler than everyone else's because she came all the way from GERMANY, just for me.

5. If you want to be sure I will get absolutely nothing accomplished, leave me home alone where there are one or more of the following: a television, a couch, a bed and/or the Internet.

The light display was very cool. And seven years ago--when I could dance all night in four-inch heels and run around without a coat when it was below freezing--it would have been pretty freaking awesome.

But is it all for nothing? Am I going to be the annoying person whose children roll their eyes whenever she tries to get them interested in some music or a movie? Does it make a difference that I can cook all this stuff if nobody wants to eat it?

Unemployment means I can come home, drive her to appointments, pick up medicines--and most importantly--smack her around.

But I needed that venting--nothing gets you primed for productivity like the sleeve-rolling-up exercise of describing how much the impending job makes you want to throw yourself off a balcony. And apparently people enjoyed reading them. When I graduated, several people told me how much they'd miss the frenetic warnings against waiting until the night before the exam to start the assigned readings or stories of how a computer-lab stranger can really do you a solid by banging on the table when he noticed you drooling on your psychology book.

I have been logging in some serious hours in front of the television--escaping into the drama of fictional people really takes the edge off of my real-life issues.

Suddenly some Indian-sounding lady (I normally wouldn't categorize, but I happen to be intimately familiar with how they sound and have recently been talking with dozens of call-center people) gets on the line, says "You're welcome" as if she were in the middle of talking to someone else, and HANGS UP ON ME.

I got my brother on the phone to give her a good scolding and she sat back down. Then I went to finish chopping the spinach and hadn't been in the kitchen two minutes before she was out in the driveway dragging in the empty garbage cans from the curb.

For me, the best way to hone a skill is by playing for keeps. And this project slowed me down and steadied my hand.

Apparently the legacy of the "professional" wrestling my brother used to watch--Jake "the snake" Roberts, "Macho Man" Randy Savage, "Rowdy" Roddy Piper, Hulk Hogan and Ted "the million-dollar man" DiBiasi--continues through their children.

When I asked the Wonder Twin who completed that last challenge, I realized I never had a chance; she had been playing some sort of Facebook flag application game and locked it down in a matter of seconds. Who says Facebook is just a time waster?

h) So many people are hassling us to get married, even though we barely have enough cash to purchase the Betty Crocker for a cupcake tower.

And for an extra-curricular activity to my full-time job of being on hold with them, I'm gathering a posse to kick Citibank's collective ass.

But H's youth spent building bike-riding dirt ramps came in mighty handy. Our method was to fill the wheelbarrow, push it into the center of the yard, take a running start up a ramp in the dirt and dump it without getting flipped over or dragged down.

And there was even a 12 Angry Men moment during which I convinced half the table that a particular idea would be a flop because it had even less sincerity than Rock of Love.

A long time ago I had visited the dungeon's illustrious tower on a school field trip and turned to a friend and said, "I'm going to work here someday." And I did. Sure, I sort of referred to it as a torture chamber (out of love, of course), however it really was quite an experience and I learned so much. So I'll have no regrets.

3) I stopped counting the number of pairs of surgical gloves (for my own protection whenever I dealt with a patient) I put on and took off today somewhere around 38. That was before lunch.

The person um-hmmmed. I started to elaborate, but she cut me off with a comment about Heidi Pratt's boob job.

I can't imagine you training anyone on anything other than obscure football regulations and video-game cheats (Up, Down, Up, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, A, B, A, B, Select, Start).

"Bloodwork does not lie. Unless someone stuck an IV full of sugar into your arm while you were sleeping..."

I must admit, we haven't yet run out of things to say. And I hope we never do, because today he asked me to spend the rest of my life talking to him, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

My brother is having panic attacks. For his entire life he has always been the one in jeopardy, the one people toss and turn worrying about. He has absolutely no coping skills to deal with feeling so powerless, terrified and being too far away for a hug. All I can offer him in the way of comfort is a welcome sign to our side of the fence.

He didn't, in fact, have any cameras on me (which is a shame, because I sort of hammed it up for an audience of nobody).

This futility-of-love-against-life-threatening-illness seems to be a running theme in my life.

7) Hospital employees GET THE FLU, TOO. And double the patients with half the staff makes for a little longer wait. Bring a crossword puzzle and be a little considerate.

"Cadiz, when you become a parent, you'll be ecstatic if your kid will flush the toilet."

I think it's going pretty well so far. Except for that one patient whose husband was, um, difficult, and tried to chase me back into my office, rip out all my hair and feed it to me.

"When they ask you about a date, just tell them we've narrowed it down to one of 12 months."

I know I shouldn't be bitching. Two months ago, I didn't have steady work or health benefits. I just need a hot bath and a nap.

If only I had gotten the "morning-person" gene (I'm the only one of us who has a problem waking up); getting this engine going in the a.m. wouldn't always be such a terrible experience.

b had gone in, become a "fan" of Jeff Hardy and written "I LOVE YOU JEFF HARDY!" on the wrestler's Facebook page. Except to Jeff Hardy and the rest of the Facebook community, it looks like that message was posted by a 30-something philosophy professor.

People who have to give up that much of their take-home pay to have a roof over their heads can't get a refinance, but if it only takes up 28% of your income, you can get a lower rate pretty easily. I mean, I get it, but I DON'T GET IT.

For goodness' sake, on phone directories where numbers are listed by department, instead of the name of her area it just says her name.

Cc and I were giddy from the fanciness (and champagne).

By the way, I don't feel like doing Thanksgiving this year; your brother isn't even coming home. So we're coming to the condo. Okay?

I stopped watching the show last season after the plotline became too ridiculous to bear, but a girl's got to put aside her principles when it comes to a nice-fitting pair of pants.

It must have been tricky to keep sight of something as silly as an extravagant birthday party for your six-year-old when your 2-year-old is getting ready to have open-heart surgery.

"Whoa, greedy, what if all you get for Christmas this year are hugs?"

With that, I snapped right back into consciousness. Not my mom! Please don't call my mom!

5) My new Realtor took a look at the activity in our building for the time my place was on the market and gently explained that it had been listed far too high for far too long and was actually being used as a bargaining point for other units to be sold at a better price.

We don't even know 5,000 people, so we're counting on your votes and we're hoping you'll ask other people to vote for us too.

http://ultimateweddingcontest.com/entries/36688

Thanks for reading!

Also, PLEASE TAKE TWO MINUTES TO VOTE! We are just 258 votes out of the t0p 50 and cannot expect the competition to stop where they are. We can do this with YOUR help!

do it for the penguins

Shortly after we got engaged--probably around the time we started telling anyone who asked that our wedding date was tentatively set for 2013--we got this in the mail with some lovely gifts from H's youngest sister. I have it hanging on the bulletin board above my desk and it garners a lot of compliments.










Apparently my side of the family isn't the only one with baby fever.

If you haven't already, please take 30 seconds to vote for us to win a wedding from Crate & Barrel/Daily Candy. Just enter your email address and any password (may I suggest "liverisforsuckas"), then when you get a confirmation in your inbox, click the link to verify.

While it'd be a dream to get as many as the current leaders, we're just looking to crack the top 50. Please tell your friends, family, facebook friends and Twitter followers!

www.ultimateweddingcontest.com/entries/36688


-- Posted From My iPhone--everybody needs an editor.

and to think, we were only worrying about the ∞ symbol

H and I spent a long time deciding on how best to present our very unique love story in 100 words. Unfortunately, we had no idea how the form we submitted to was going to make it look. So here is what we INTENDED to post for a shot at an Ultimate Wedding. PLEASE VOTE FOR US, and tell your friends!

http://ultimateweddingcontest.com/entries/36688

Our love story.

Random comments about Encyclopedia Brown vs. Nancy Drew that started it all: 2
Miles of separation in March 2005: 2039
Initial text messages—determining how all future children will be named: 6

Flights between LAX and MDW: 51
Average minutes on the phone per month: 5400
Cross-country moves: 1

Unexpected foods Jon has tried: 71
Professional athletes on Jon's favorite teams whom Karen can now name: 26
Pancakes consumed during the proposal: 11
Puzzles Karen solved to get her ring: 8

How long we’ll be together: ∞ (infinity)


Three important details about our Ultimate Wedding.

All our loved ones will be there to take part in our special blend of Indian (samosas and stealing shoes) and American (but not the Chicken Dance) traditions. A photojournalist will be on hand to capture awesome candid moments so we don’t have to take long breaks from the fun. On top of all that, we’ll set up a semi-elaborate series of puzzles that will not only entertain, but help our guests get to know each other better.

Our everyday dream day.

After six snoozes, we still manage to get up early enough to have an adventure--skydiving/go-kart racing/zip-lining, what have you. We come home to an amazing meal with a few close friends, squeeze in an hour of really great television and pass out on the couch. And nobody had to do the dishes!

tell your brother, your sister and your momma, too

Hey, remember when we asked you for advice when we were going to enter a wedding contest?

We signed up for Crate & Barrel's Ultimate Wedding Giveaway. The competition is FIERCE, y'all, with couples already logging in more than 5,000 votes a full four weeks before the end of the contest (ends March 31). The top 50 vote-getters will be in the running for a lot of cool prizes--the best being an entire wedding coordinated by a planner to the stars.

Our under-100-word description style was inspired by the lovely and talented Omar. Formatting didn't translate as intended (we couldn't edit) but we think the spirit of what we were trying to say comes across.

We don't even know 5,000 people, so we're counting on your votes and we're hoping you'll ask other people to vote for us too. All you have to do is find our entry, enter your email and any sort of password (suggestion: H&CadizFTW) and a confirmation will be sent to you. Then just click the link to verify and your vote will be counted!

The one thing I can guarantee is that you'll read all about the shenanigans involved when Cadiz and H try and plan a wedding--hopefully a lot sooner than 2013.

are you there, blog? it's me, Cadiz

I realize that I haven't posted for more than a month. Here's an update on what's been going on:

1) I've been working a lot, and freelancing--which is awesome because

2) We're trying to save for a wedding, tentative date in 2013.

3) I miss H. Because I work evenings, I often pass out mid-conversation and by the time it's the one weekend day I see him, I can't remember anything I had wanted to say.

4) I dumped my Realtor, who had my condo listed for 637 days (at what he said was "the right price") with a ton of showings but very few offers. This is my fault for being too distracted by staying gainfully employed to continually check up on him.

5) My new Realtor took a look at the activity in our building for the time my place was on the market and gently explained that it had been listed far too high for far too long and was actually being used as a bargaining chip for other units to be sold at a better price.

6) Eight of the 12 units for sale in our building are short-sale/foreclosures and the unit one floor below mine (same layout, very nearly the same view) is priced at 100K less.

7) So we must re-list at 50K less than what we had been asking for.

8) This amount is dangerously close to what I still owe on the loan, which is nauseating considering how much I put down originally and what I've paid off in the last five years.

9) So there is a possibility that everything we've saved for the wedding will go toward getting rid of the condo. And I may still owe on top of that.

10) We will likely be unable to turn around and buy another place, as previously hoped.

11) I am extremely upset about this (what with my life savings vaporizing even after having done "everything right"). I can't really complain because I'm certainly not the only person in this situation, and I am better off than a lot of people because I have a job with health insurance.

12) In other--GOOD--news, H and my family got me an iPhone for Christmas! Which means I can do nearly everything (but post, apparently) from my phone without the old dialup. This brings joy to my life, which I can really use. AND because H and I have combined our plans, I end up paying less for a smartphone than I did for the non-smartphone I had. Everybody wins!

13) My brother says he will move back to Chicago when I get pregnant. Like I need any more pressure. But it is still a sweet sentiment.

14) I like my job, which is a very good thing indeed.

15) Everyone at work thinks I have this sunny, cheerful personality. Little do they know how pessimistic I really am.

16) But the people I love have their health! And for that I am so grateful.

17) And I'm doing yoga every day, which makes me feel nice. And sore.

18) I get to see my mom's smile during the day, and if things are quiet enough I can catch the sound of her laugh as I'm walking by. I cannot explain the boost I get inside when I hear it--as if there IS a chance that things may turn out okay after all.

Sorry to be such a stranger lately. I'm going to carve out some time this weekend between freelancing, taxes and emptying out the condo (so it looks bigger) to leave the comments I've been meaning to make while I've been checking out your posts on my reader.

a waste of a perfectly good bag of Sun Chips

Yesterday my colleague came back from lunch, said she was going to donate blood, and asked if I wanted to come along. It didn't seem like a big deal--as a universal donor (O+) I always mean to do it more often.

The last time I was going to donate was the birthday on which I got laid off. Something about hearing that our whole office was being eliminated made me feel lightheaded enough not to want to lose a pint of blood on top of it. And the time before that, my brother needed blood for his surgery. I lied about my weight to be able to give him two pints, so I could barely walk after that. Hey, it's my baby brother--I'd cut out my own heart if I thought it would help him.

Obviously those other factors were what made me feel dizzy after donating, right? So I filled out the forms, hopped on the table and let the phlebotomist hook me up. It really wasn't a big deal. She gave me a little grip-shaped cylinder to rotate in my hand while the blood came out and after a few minutes the bag was full with 1 pint/1 pound of blood. Everyone was really impressed that I filled it in just 6 minutes, 22 seconds. It was some kind of record.

I felt great. I jumped off the table and to the "recovery area" where an elderly volunteer was handing out chips, cookies and juice. I opened a bag of Sun Chips and started making small talk with him about how many people he'd seen pass out after donating. The volunteer said there were three who blacked out the day before, all in a row, but none so far that day. I was feeling fine, mentioned something about feeling a tiny bit woozy, and one of the phlebotomists ran over and told me to sit closer to the table with my knees under it.

The next thing I remember was that I was having a really vivid dream and woke up to one of those scenes from a movie where silhouettes standing over me were starting to become clearer. I was lying on the floor. There was an ice pack on my neck and on my belly under my shirt, they had a fan on me and the guy was telling me to rock my knees back and forth. And way off in the distance, I heard someone say, "Get me my purse! I have to call her mother!"

With that, I snapped right back into consciousness. Not my mom! Please don't call my mom! She'd already left for the day and was probably still on the road. The last thing you ever want to tell a driving mother is that her kid has had some sort of accident--and of course those people told her I'd blacked out and fallen down somewhere. I started panicking that she'd get into some kind of accident because I was an idiot.

The nurses kept taking my blood pressure (which is always sort of low to begin with) and tsk-tsking me for not having hydrated or eaten more before getting on the table. I looked around and saw the contents of that bag of Sun Chips strewn all around me, crushed to a powder by everyone who had rushed to help.

And mom made great time. She took one look at me, asked if I was feeling okay, then smacked me and demanded to know why I hadn't eaten more for breakfast. Which is exactly what I'd told all of them she would do. I was just glad she hadn't freaked out. She gave me something to eat, scolded me more and told me to get my butt back to work.

When I got back to the office, my coworkers had somehow crammed a full-sized wheelchair behind my desk, covered the arms, back, footrests, the floor around it and my keyboard with blankets, and adorned it with signs that said "Cadiz's wheelchair, do not remove" "I've fallen and I can't get up!" and "I'm not sleeping, I passed out." Then everybody proceeded to make me eat and drink every fifteen minutes for the next several hours.

I came home to find my mother had gone to the store and made a fat pot roast. It was so delicious I forgot how full I already was. I've learned my lesson! Next time I want to donate blood, I'll be sure to have a nice juicy cheeseburger first.

YOU make the call

H and I have been bombarded with questions about when we're going to get married. The day we got engaged, we decided not even to think about setting a date until we had accumulated a certain amount in our "nuptial fund." And while we've both been working very hard (which is why you haven't heard much in the way of posting/commenting lately), it seems like our "2013" estimation is more realistic than we had thought.

So when someone mentioned entering one of those wedding contests, we thought, Why not? We've got an interesting story, right? And we've certainly had to face plenty of challenges together; maybe it's worth a shot.

We spent the afternoon in front of the camera-on-a-timer and had Brian Regan's Comedy Central Special playing in the background to ward off the fake smiles. We probably took more than a thousand shots, but these are the two we feel most look like the normal us. To appease my brother, I'm in half of them without the glasses.

You guys know us pretty well. Which set of these people would you give a dream wedding to?

this is the boy who once made his Christmas list in July

"So are you coming to pick me up from the airport?"

"Yeah, I'll get off work at 8. Please tell me that you're not bringing your entire wardrobe again this time. Getting your baggage takes FOREVER! It'll only be seven days, for God's sake."

"I'm going to bring it, even if it's mostly empty. For all the presents I'm going to need to take back with me. "

"Whoa, greedy, what if all you get for Christmas this year are hugs?"

"Then they'd better come with gift receipts."

you won't get this if you don't listen to Weezer

We just got back from the Weezer concert at the Aragon Ballroom* and I've gotta say, the band put on an excellent show. I only wish I could say the same for the people in the audience. 

Here's a little bit of commentary from H and I, Siskel and Ebert--style.

H: I don't know if I know how to do "Siskel and Ebert--style." Doesn't that mean that one of us has to hate it?

C: No, they agreed sometimes, right? Anyway, we can agree that we both loved the songs (except that one I didn't like) and that Weezer put on a great show. 

H: Agreed.

C: But those motionless dudes in front of us who only came to life for the Pinkerton songs, those guys I could have done without.

H: I could have done without them, the potsmokers, the chick next to me who was constantly updating her Facebook about how much she loved Rivers Cuomo. Coulda done without a lot of them. 

C: I was coveting the balcony seat of that one guy ROCKING OUT above us. Kind of like when we went to see Rancid and my boss hooked us up with center balcony seats. H, what are some highlights for you? (That's part of my s&e spiel.)

H: I just enjoyed Rivers's performance, because he was just fun to watch. And when they had that radio contest winner come out and duet "(If you're wondering if I want you to) I want you to," I thought it was going to be terrible, but it turned out pretty decent. I didn't know if they were putting any prerequisites on whether the person had to know how to sing or not. You know, at first. 

C: She was pretty good. She's from my hometown--of course she'd be good. I liked when he put on the blonde wig and did the Lady Gaga "PokerFace" cover. But the sad thing is that everyone in the audience was surprised. What's that about? That song is on the new album. At concerts I've been to in the past, I always felt lame because everyone already knew all the words to the latest album--which, duh, came out right in time for the tour. NOBODY knew any of the new songs, which I was pretty much rocking out to. I can admit it: I LOVE POP MUSIC.

H: Yeah they did "Let it all hang out" early in the show, and the crowd just stopped moving. Nobody was singing along. They were just standing there like they were waiting for it to be over. 

C: I think people were way too uptight. And I'm tired of people saying Pinkerton is the be-all/end-all of the band's catalog. Seriously people, there are WAY MORE SONGS that do not sound like that. GET OVER IT. As you can see, I'm not much of a fan of Pinkerton. I happen to adore the fact that Weezer's Cuomo is "ticking off some of his hardcore fans." Hello, hip-hop? I'm all about it!

H: It's like you hate Pinkerton on principle now. I think it's a decent album, but I agree, it's not the be-all/end-all, but their entire catalog is solid; there's not an album that I don't like. I don't understand how you're ticking off fans just because you do something they don't like. What are you a fan of the in the first place?  

C: Yes, I now hate it on principle. I can't believe people are stupid enough to think bands are supposed to sound exactly the same from album to album. Bands grow, too, people. Which is sad, because maybe I would have given it a chance if it weren't for the die hards who hate on everything else. Make Believe is the album that resonates with me the most.  

H: I agree. I'm always annoyed when fans don't like a band to experiment. I'm a fan of the *artistic* side of it. If you want to keep re-creating the same album over and over again, I'm just going to get bored with it.

C: Amen.

H: Less Than Jake is the same way. Some of their fans got pissed when they changed up the band a little bit.

C: Same with Madonna.

H: What songs didn't we hear that you wished they would have played? 

C: There were so many. Personally, I would have loved "This is such a pity." I'd say that's the song that made me really start liking them. It reminds me of driving around with you in California and falling in love. I also like "My best friend." But I'm a sappy cheeseball.

H: Those were good times. It's funny because it took me three or four full playthroughs before I started to really like Make Believe. On the flip side, their new album, Raditude**, I've loved from the first time I heard it. 

C: We could go on and on, but then it'd be like that part of I Love You, Man when Paul Rudd and Jason Segel were talking on the phone to "go over the setlist" of the Rush concert and Rashida Jones felt all left out. Actually it's going to be exactly like that. Here's the setlist*** from tonight's show, which was the first stop on their national tour: 

Opening acts: Jack's Mannequin

1. Hash Pipe

2. Let It All Hang Out

3. Tired of Sex

4. (If You're Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To

5. Say It Ain't So

6. Troublemaker

7. My Name Is Jonas

8. Perfect Situation

9. Why Bother

10. Dope Nose

11. Undone (The Sweater Song)

12. Surf Wax America

13. cover of Pink Floyd song that is killing me that I don't remember the name of

14. I'm Your Daddy

15. Can't Stop Partying

16. Beverly Hills

17. Pork and Beans

18. Kids/Poker Face 

19. Island In The Sun****

20. Buddy Holly

*References to Chicago places like this are what made me EXTRA love Audrey Niffenegger's Time Traveler's Wife.

**Apparently, Rainn Wilson came up with the name of the latest album.

***Don't quote us on this order.

****This was the first song in the second encore. Rivers pretty much performed it by himself using a loop-back machine. He started off by playing a few measures on the drums, followed by the bass, then a little rhythm guitar and he had the crowd do the "hep hep"s. Wil Wheaton linked to a similar-technique performance by Kid Beyond. The concept is very cool; probably one of our favorite things of the evening.

all together that's 120 posts, y'all

November 30 (at least for the last four years, anyway) is a bittersweet day. On one hand, there's a huge sigh of relief that I don't have to carve out two hours to dial into my parents' Internet connection and then figure out what the heck to post about anymore. But on the other, I know that when I do a quick sweep of my comrades this year in NBPM*, Syar, Madelyn, CoFo and Jon, there is no longer a guarantee of new material.

I know I phoned it in at least twice this month, but like anything else, writing every day gets less tough the more you do it. And post ideas start to come more easily the longer you need them (Except for days when all you'd like to do is moan about the people you had to deal with all day at the risk of being fired for breach in confidentiality). Right?

So to a close comes another hectic month of posting. I am sad that I couldn't spread my net of comment love farther, but there's only so long I can wait for pages to load (re: dialup), and the swine flu is keeping me clocking some serious overtime.

I don't think my mom will miss it, however; my leaving to go post for hours at a time really cut into our knitting-on-the-couch-while-watching-Hindi-soaps time. But at least now she sort of has an idea of what I've been doing on the computer for the last half a decade.

But thanks for reading, guys. Your comments make it worth all the trouble. And a special shoutout to the unicorn crew for letting me in even though I didn't have the bandwidth or patience to get the button onto my sidebar.

*And also SupaCoo, whose beautiful blog's design I love but unfortunately takes forever to load on dialup, so I haven't always been able to comment.

isn't technology grand?

Jazz just texted me asking if I could please email Ale and ask her to text Jazz as to where Ale and Jazz would be meeting up tomorrow. Something to point out: I'm in Chicago, Jazz is somewhere in Kenya and Ale is just outside of Amsterdam.

my sister's keeper

I just finished reading My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult. I approached it with a little hesitation. Mostly because I've always thought of myself as my brother's keeper, but more in the sense that I asked for him, I can't give him back and (don't tell him but) I would never want to. 

I'm not going to go into detail about the book, except that it's about how a family deals with having a daughter with a serious medical condition. Cc is also reading it; she mentioned that it could hit close to home for me and that I didn't have to finish if it made me uncomfortable. And I did identify with some of the book--the helplessness, the confusion, the loving somebody so much that you'd risk anything for them. But that's about it.

As the story unfolded, I started to examine the memories of feelings I had as a kid. Sure it wasn't always a picnic when my brother was in the hospital (and maybe it's because that was so long ago), but I rarely felt overlooked and certainly never felt invisible. I credit my mom for that; she grew up having to share my nani's attention with six other kids and three jobs. It made sense why other, more needy kids got more facetime, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt her. So my parents have always gone out of their way to make sure I had special moments as the center of attention, too, and that I wasn't an afterthought. 

I assumed being vigilant about doling out attention was something everyone's parents do, but as I moved through the book I realized that's not the easy feat my mom and dad made it seem. It must have been tricky to keep sight of something as silly as an extravagant birthday party for your six-year-old when your 2-year-old is getting ready to have open-heart surgery. But I remember all those birthday parties, every special outing, and how they only shuttled me off to some Auntie's house a couple times when the going got really tough, not as a protocol.

Little kids are perceptive. They remember things like the refreshing relief that not everything is about the other guy. And they hold onto feeling loved and special well into their adult life. I can only hope to do just as right by the kids I might have someday.

"shoe-wearing-agility" is right behind "healthy," "intelligent" and "well-adjusted"

[bending down to untie left gym shoe] "Um, are you forgetting something? You've got your coat on and are carrying all that stuff."

"Oh, you mean my shoes?"

[putting on left gym shoe and tying the laces*] "Yeeesssss; don't you want to put that stuff down?"

"Not necessary. [slips feet into gym shoes without use of hands] I got skills."

[untying right gym shoe] "Oh, well not all of us are blessed with such talent. I can only strive to one day be as good at putting my shoes on as you are."

"You'd better hope for the children."




*One of my early childhood memories is being 3 years old and tying my shoe properly for the first time, by myself, not at home and not under the supervision of my parents. It was a sunny day, and the a.m. pre-school class at Little Shepherd School was going outside to play. I stopped on the single step before the long long sidewalk, bent down and did it all by myself, using the bunny-ear way, not the bunny-goes-around-the-tree-way the other kids did**. I'm told I hated the Velcro fasteners. It was a fabulous day.

**I could have sworn I wrote a post long ago about the little song about the bunny going around the tree that people use to teach their kids to tie their shoes. I cannot find it in my archives. Am I crazy*** or do you guys remember that? Syar? (Btw, I added that link you requested for yesterday's post.)

***I AM NOT CRAZY! Blogger's in-blog search sucks!