A Rough Move Six Weeks Before Our Wedding and Honeymoon

We’ve been moved into this townhouse for one week and one day today.  The first few days were rough as hell.

I was exhausted from the move.  I had forgotten to take time off of work because I was so busy wedding planning, and trying to coordinate things for the move.  We ended up less unpacked than I had liked to be.  The house seemed strange, and not like home.  It was gorgeous, and intriguing, and inviting, but also new.  Unfamiliar.

I just didn’t feel like myself.  And all my coworkers felt the need to tell me how tired I looked, and that really ground my gears.

We moved August 15th, and I didn’t truly start feeling better until this past Wednesday when my coworkers and I all spent the day at Six Flags for free!  We even got a free lunch, and we all got to bring a guest.  I brought my wife-to-be, of course, and we hung around my main crew of therapists, being silly and riding roller coasters all day and all night.

Six Flags   The rest of the week went quickly uphill from there.  This townhouse started to feel more like a home.  Our cat seemed better adjusted and more comfortable here, and we did as well.  It’s never taken me time before to adjust to new living quarters.

Our friend Elliot came over last night and we all went out for Indian food.  He loved the townhouse, and we just had a blast all night.

LifeproofI bought a LifeProof case for my iPhone six plus, for the purpose of added protection on our honeymoon in Santorini! Also because the first two levels of this townhouse are hardwood, and my partner’s phone screen smashed a few nights after we moved in! My life is occupying bigger spaces and traveling to further distances, so my phone needs a better helmet.  Life is taking off!

What’s coming up in the next eight weeks:  Our bridal shower, our bachlorette party, the Mehndi ceremony my family is throwing us, our wedding night, and our nine night honeymoon in Santorini, Greece!

And we’ve only been in this townhouse a week!  We’re both glad that all the work of the move is over.

We’re completely unpacked as of this weekend, and looking forward to all the craziness the next eight weeks has to offer us.

Townhouse Keys

New Keys & Moving Boxes

We’ve lived in this condo for two years.  We became us in this condo.  She didn’t propose to me in this condo.  That happened in a tiny, dirty house we shared with a friend of mine, and his pets.

But this is where the majority of our engagement has taken place.  Our time figuring each other out, and figuring out what being an adult is like.  This is where we planned the majority of our wedding, and, so far, our life together.

My partner, and my cat, and I, have become this kind of mesh of a family inside these condo walls.  But, not we’re moving to a townhouse.  Where we’ll be living when we become an official family.

Change is exciting, but it’s also hard, and it comes with many things.  It comes with loss, and a sense of things ending.  Or, at least for me.  At least right now.

At this time when I’m nearing thirty, about to become married, and, essentially, starting phase II of my life.

I’m mourning my childhood.  I’m mourning phase I of my life being over.  I’m mourning that that time of never paying bills is over (it has been for years, but it’s somehow different, now.)  I’m mourning how much time has passed since I was all legs and energy, climbing trees and being taken care of, completely.  I’m nervous for phase II.  Can I really do this? Can I really be a wife? Can I be a grown adult?

Only time will tell.  The work that a marriage will take is daunting, to say the least.  The amount of work it will take to survive in this country and this economy at this time is a much higher level of daunting.

This townhouse is the start of all that.  This townhouse is the start of Phase II.

I’ll miss these condo walls.  But, those townhouse walls sure are awfully bright, too.

moving boxes


A Decade Is Just Way Too Long (A Long-Distance Story Of Friendship)

I had a close friend junior and senior year of high school.  She was new to our school junior year.  Her family and her were Pakistani.  She had been born there.  She loved living in America.

A month after our high school graduation in 2005, her family had to move back to Pakistan.  She was heartbroken, and scared that she wouldn’t be able to come back to The United States for a very long time.

Not long after her family moved back to Pakistan she contacted me, frantic, saying that she feared she wouldn’t be able to come back to the United States for ten years!  An entire decade! I’m not sure if I was naive at the time, but I just kept hoping it wouldn’t really be that long.  I kept assuring her that we would figure something out before that length of time.

Years and years went by, and she kept on trying to find ways to get back into America.  We kept trying to find ways.  There was nothing we could do.  What were we two young ladies to do?

She had been right from the start.  It did take an entire decade.  Our ten year high school reunion is taking place three months from now!

I had dinner with her and her husband.  I brought my fiance along, at my friends’ very urgent request.  It was a splendid evening.  Everyone got along easily, and happily.

It was like no time had passed between Sally and I.  A decade? So many miles? It’s like they never existed.

We caught up on each other’s lives as much as four to five hours can allow, and then we had to say goodbye.  We held each other for a good, long while.

Her husband has invited my soon-to-be wife and I to come and stay with them in Malaysia.  We talked about plane ticket cost.  It’s heartbreaking to have a really close friend that you may only get to see every 5-10 years because of the cost of traveling.  Because of the cost of plane tickets.  Because all parties involved are millenialls, and we’re still so (financially) tied up trying to get our own lives set up.  Trying to make it out in the world successfully, on our own.

My partner and I will make it there.  I know we will.  I’ll find a way.

And it will definitely be well before ten years.  A decade is just way too long.




On May 17th of this past Spring, my soon-to-be-wife and I participated in the NOH8 Campaign’s photo shoot when they came to Washington D.C.  There will be a second photo being emailed to us sometime soon.

Both my fiance and I love how this first picture came out! We are about nine weeks out from our wedding.  We’ve both been mushy and gushy and emotional with all of the planning lately, and receiving this picture today has amped up our excitement level even more!

I’ll post the second picture when it arrives.  Cheers, and I hope everyone has had a lovely weekend.


The Biggest Anxiety Attack I’ve Ever Had In My Entire Life

I walked into work yesterday, rushing.  But, that’s not that strange.  I’m constantly rushing.  I’m constantly moving from one thing to the next. I constantly have goals.  I’m always striving for more.

My heart was pounding, and I felt shaky, and panicky.  Why was my vision dimming?  I just kept going, trying to breathe, taking on ujjayi breathing from my yoga practice, silently pleading with some divine energy that that breathing technique would quiet the storm that was brewing inside of me.

I got ready for my massage shift just like any other day, by lowering the table, grabbing enough face cradles, filling my bottle with lotion, putting my Chuck’s on.  But, my heart was pounding out of my chest.  My head wouldn’t stop spinning, I was overly aware of all the big changes soon happening in my life.  I sat in the break room for a moment, with my head between my knees.  I grounded my hands into the floor, just like in yoga.  I tried to deepen my breathing.  I tried to let go.

Several coworkers were in the room with me, but no one asked if I was fine.  They wouldn’t though.  I’m always fine, I’m never falling apart, or crying.  I’m one of few who is always there to massage every client on their book.  I take care of others when they’re having a bad mental day.  I’m always checking on everyone else, offering words of encouragement, or just listening.

I only had a few moments to sit with my head between my knees before the clock told me it was time to grab my first client.  I felt like shit.  My mind was everywhere,  My heart was pounding, I was dizzy, and growing increasingly nauseous.  I greeted my client, put him on the table, and massaged him for a few minutes before admitting to him that I was feeling nauseated, and briefly excused myself.

I ran down the hall and made it to the toilet just in time.  I puked, felt better, cleaned up, and went back in to work on him. Because  I had to give him his massage.  I had to.  I had to work on him.  I always feel this way with my clients.

I proceeded to work on him for a few minutes more before realizing, with a heavy heart, that I was, indeed, feeling nauseous again.  I apologized, ended the massage, and ran back to the bathroom to dry heave, puke a little, and feel dizzy in the bathroom, alone, at work, while the clinic was quiet with massages going on.

I finally got myself off the floor and sat in our break room for a while, drinking water.  They cancelled the rest of my appointments for the day.  Several coworkers sat with me, gave me some food, and tried to help me figure out what was happening with my body.

But I knew what was happening.  I knew it was stress.  A move to a townhouse, a full wedding and reception, and a honeymoon in Greece all happening in just seven weeks of each other? There’s so much to plan for.  There’s so many steps to cross off a long list.  But, more than anything for me, it’s a lot of change.

To me it felt like the center of my anxiety attack storm. The feel of all the change coming, the feel of it processing through my mind, and through my body.  We move in less than two weeks, and in in less than two months I’ll be a wife.  Not just a girlfriend, or a fiance.

My amazing fiance, my wife-to-be called out of work herself and came and picked me up.  She fed me, we napped for hours together, and we spent the rest of the evening taking it easy, resting, and talking.

I got a good amount of sleep last night, but then woke up today feeling very tired, and like I could sleep much longer.  So, I called out, which is something I never do, and now I have a second mental health day to rest and relax.

I’m definitely feeling better.  I’m feeling less anxious.  The change is starting to move through me a bit.  My bones have let go of the familiar life they were clinging to.

I know the next nine weeks or so will be very stressful, and I’m not surprised at all that the change and stress caught up to me in such a large display.  I am glad, however, that I’m taking some time out to rest, and just be.

The Islands In The Sky

The Islands In The Sky

She gasped with excitement and shouted over the noise of the helicopter: The islands in the sky are real!”

Jeda rolled his big faerie eyes at her, feigning exasperation at the very obvious statement she’d just proclaimed.  Of course the islands in the sky were real!  He had known they were real his entire life, even though the fae believed them to be legends.  Even though the adult faes in the village always insisted to him that the islands in the sky were just old stories passed down from the fae elders, and didn’t really exist.

Corin met his sarcastic eyeroll with a huge, beaming smile, and slowly turned back to look at the nearest island that had only just appeared moments before.  He looked back up at the island, over her left shoulder, and was hit with a huge pang of nervous excitement in his gut.

They really were real!  Of course he’d always known it, but never before had he actually seen them.  Not ever before these few last moments.

Their helicopter slowly floated them upwards and higher, climbing to where the air was even thinner.  To where a small sea of islands lie.

The closest to them was by far the largest, the island he swear he saw from his bedroom window as a young boy.  His island.  His secret island he always knew he’d somehow make it to and explore.

Well, his island with Corin.  It was more his, than hers, of course, but he guesses they can share it, and call it theirs.

They rode higher and higher in silence for a few more moments, each fae caught in their own wonder, excitement, and awe.

Finally, feigning and initial shock washing aside, they hurried to each other in a few steps, crossing the small floor of the helicopter in just a matter of seconds.

She excitedly grabbed his arm, beaming upwards at that large island that was drawing ever nearer.  He didn’t shake her off the way he might have any time before now.  Like back home when they were on the ground, back in their fae village.  He would have shrugged her off and given her a stern scowl, even if it were the opposite action of what he really wanted to do.

He watched the bottom of the island become larger as they drifted closer, and all at once they were both a rush of commotion and movement.  Him, running to the wheel to steer them outwards a bit more.  He figured flying over the side of the island and then landing on top of it would be the most practical and safest.  Apprehension thudded in his chest.  What if he wasn’t able to do this? What if they crashed?

Corin had rushed over to the other side of the helicopter, angling her neck as she bent her head back, trying to see around the side of the ever larger island.  She was gripping the outside of the helicopter through the open door, and a sudden concern for her safety and life flooded him with anger and exasperation.

“Be careful!”, he almost barked at her.  “Help me by telling me exactly where to fly.  I’ll get us there safely if you can bother to not screw that up!”

She gave him a half smile, part hurt, part scared, and turned away from him to start directing him.  Why did he always do that? Why couldn’t be just be nice to her? Isn’t that what you were suppose to do when you felt this way about a girl?

Over many moments and several shoutings back and forth, they managed to find themselves starting to fly up and over the island, flying parallel to it and straight upwards along the large side of it, and then slowly watching the terrain start to smooth and flatten before them.  He started to look for a place to land.  The island was breathtaking.  She beamed at him excitedly.

“Where shall we land? Where shall we go first? I can’t WAIT to get home tonight and tell Daleka and Tin all about this!….”

As she continued to speak hurriedly, and excitedly,  he started to wonder if today, on their island, he would have his first kiss.