Life in Chicago

Preparations

I'm sitting at the dining room table as I write this, sipping coffee and yawning, trying to wake up and get back into my routine. I haven't been at work since last Thursday and I'm still coming down off this Boulder trip and can't believe that we're leaving a week from tomorrow for Cape Cod.

We blissfully have nothing going on this weekend. We were originally going to go to Cleveland for the baptism of Greg's very sweet, little, new nephew, but with the wedding coming up we decided it might be best to have this time to prepare. Along with shopping for wedding bands, shoes, writing vows and planning the ceremony, I want to go swimming in the lake and do lots of yoga.

Tonight I'm starting a 3 week meditation series, which I don't think could come at a better time. When life is moving this fast I have to put in a lot of effort to remain present and to create space in my life.

Last night, too drained to do much else, Greg and I watched Father of the Bride -- that 1991 movie with Steve Martin and Martin Short -- and I realized during the opening scenes that this movie really shaped my idea of what a wedding sh0uld be like. I must have been only 12 or 13 when I saw it for the first time and it really paints such an idyllic picture of the great American wedding.

For anyone who hasn't seen it or who needs a refresher, the movie centers around the Banks family, an upper-middle class white American family living in a picturesque Southern California town. At the start of the film, the 22 year old daughter comes home from a semester abroad engaged to a nice American boy from a rich family. Suddenly the Banks have a wedding to plan.

Steve Martin plays a wonderful but stereotypical father who is distraught over the escalating costs of Annie's wedding, confused by hilarious wedding coordinator Franck, and desperately trying to come to terms with the fact that his beloved little girl is all grown up and leaving him for another man. The whole thing is set in a big, white house on a pretty tree-lined street and epitomizes the American ideal of the way life should be.

The way life perhaps should be...but rarely is. It was interesting to watch this movie and to realize that so many of the things I've been mourning for my own wedding are false ideals, painted by Hollywood, and that when I actually try to insert myself into this plastic picture of the way things should be, it's absolutely no wonder that it doesn't fit.

Anyway, I'm rambling, still trying to wake up. Yesterday, on the airplane, every time there was a lot of turbulence, I stared at a little crack between the two seats in front of me and I pictured myself walking down the aisle towards Greg.

p.s. I went back into yesterday's post and inserted a photo of me (not) on a mountain bike.

Interlude

Greg and I have been in Boulder for the last couple of days. I wrote yesterday's post from the desk of our lovely room at the St. Julien Hotel and Spa where I am writing from again right now.

I'm here working a story about Chef Jason Rogers who is the man behind St. Julien's Jill's restaurant and who also happens to be an avid mountain biker. During the summer he offers a mountain biking and bbq package in which he takes guests out for a bike ride and then back to the hotel where he makes them a fabulous bbq dinner based on their preferences.

As you can imagine, Sunday afternoon found me and Greg on mountain bikes on nearby Betasso Preserve trying out our first time skills on the single track Canyon Loop Trail. Needless to say, within ten minutes I was sprawled in a ditch, my bike on its side, a big scrape beading up with blood on my left leg. Laughing from my position in the ditch, I called for Greg to take a photo (coming soon). Mountain biking turned out to be wildly challenging but overall it was definitely a fun experience.

After making it around the 3 mile loop without anymore mishaps and with a couple of deer sightings, we flew down the paved road back to Boulder, the mountain vistas dipping and rising before us as we rounded each curve and then crossed over to ride alongside Boulder Creek. It was just beautiful and it was the perfect way to get me out of my head and all that is going on these days, if even for a couple of days.

The rest of our trip has been spent at the mercy of Chef Rogers who has made us one incredible meal after another. I don't think I've ever eaten so well in a two day time span. Highlights include heirloom tomatoes with spearmint, arugula, pine nuts and served alongside a burrata cheese calzone. Also unbelievable, from last night's zero-carbon vegetarian dinner, were homemade ravioli with aged goat cheese from Oregon paired with a Barbera D'Alba Mauro Molino. Trout ceviche, duck confit, Adobo-rubbed steak and leg of lamb have also delightfully crossed my palate in the last 48 hours.

I've experienced several moments on this trip where I knew that if my parents could see me, they just couldn't be happier. Me, sitting across from the most wonderful man whom I will marry in 10 days, eating some of the most wonderful food in an incredibly beautiful setting and about to return home to a fantastic life in Chicago with a meaningful job and lovely home and a future that is continuously unspooling itself in the best ways possible.

I'm very appreciative of my life right now.

Okay...off to catch a flight home. More soon, including photos of me on a mountain bike!

Getting Closer

I don't think there's much point in trying to keep the date of the wedding a secret. (Greg was concerned about me announcing when we'd be out of town -- ever since the break-in it's seemed like a good idea to exercise a bit more caution around here -- but it turns out that a couple of good friends of our will be staying in our house while we're getting married that weekend so I'm not too worried about revealing the date anymore.)

I'm going to marry Greg Boose on July 19th.

That's less than two weeks away. And there's still a lot to do. Most everything is done -- our families have been wonderful about just taking over and making decisions and coming up with ideas and that's just fine with us. We still need a spot for the rehearsal dinner but I think I have it pretty well narrowed down. And Greg and I are still on a hunt for the perfect little hotel where we can stay together the night of our wedding -- we'd love to take the ferry out to Martha's Vineyard after the reception and stay overnight there. Oh, and we need wedding bands. And I need a rehearsal dinner dress. And shoes.

But the most important thing to do yet is work on the ceremony itself. Although my uncle is a minister and has performed plenty of weddings, I still want to plan out the majority of the ceremony. What we say and do in those moments are very important to me. I have a lot of ideas and have been making a lot of notes and combing over in my head all the meaningful wedding ceremonies I've attended. (If anyone wants to share any ideas for ways to make a ceremony meaningful or personal or even just suggest readings or poems or candle rituals, I'd love to hear about it.)

Last Friday we had the most wonderful yoga party on the deck with about 20 people in attendance. (Check out our write-up all about it on She Wrote, He Wrote.) And on Saturday I took Greg to see my favorite hospice patient -- a 95 year old retired revered that I've been visiting every week for 6 months now. He's been the most wonderful father-figure in my life these last months and every week our time together never ceases to calm and restore me. On Saturday he gave us a blessing for our marriage and told Greg several times what a lucky man he is and they just don't make 'em like me anymore.

On Saturday night we hosted an 8 person dinner party out on the deck. My dear friend George Ducker was in town from LA and he came over in the late afternoon and we drank mimosas and ate brie and crackers and the three of us caught up on all our favorite topics. Later some of Greg's friends who were also in town joined us and I made grilled pork tenderloin skewered with country bread and bacon, potatoes gratin and grilled asparagus and we ate out under the stars with the trees whispering above us and ever so often I took a deep breath and reminded myself to take these moments in, to be present, to be here, to love appreciate and be grateful for all that my life is right now.

Watching fireworks by the lake on the 4th of July:

Independence Day

It's just after 9AM on the 4th of July. Greg's uncle and cousin are drinking coffee on the deck and Greg is sweeping the house.

We're about to host a 20 person yoga session on our deck, followed by a mimosa brunch -- all an idea born out of that night with my friend Cat last month. I'm not sure any of us expected that we'd really end up with 20 people doing yoga on our deck on the 4th of July but here we go!

I realized last night it was exactly a year ago today that I met Cat. I was on an airplane, flying from Los Angeles to Boston, to meet Greg for only the 3rd time ever. After our first date here in Chicago, he came to LA and asked me to move to Chicago. I agreed but only on one condition: that he join me and my family on Cape Cod for the 4th of July. So Independence Day last year found me flying across the country to meet him at the Boston airport and seated next to the most wonderfully vibrant woman who would go on to become my friend and teach a yoga class on my deck in Chicago a year later.

Life certainly moves forward doesn't it?

Happy 4th of July everyone! Hope you have a nice day with your friends and family no matter where you are or what country you live in.

Aloneness

Last night Greg went to dinner with his uncle and cousin and I opted to stay in by myself.

The second the door shut behind them, the house quiet except for the spatter of rain against the window panes, I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I spent an evening at home alone. Greg and I have been living together for 4 months now and we haven't spent a night apart yet. The night before our wedding will be our first. We've certainly gone out independently of each other but I just haven't stayed in alone...not since I lived in my old place in Lincoln Park.

I sat for a while on the couch just being quiet and looking around the house. A home always feel different when you're alone -- the walls expand, the silence increases, the hours stretch on quietly before you. I thought about how sometimes this feeling used to strike fear into me, about how I could feel the whole world shifting out from underneath me when alone for too long a time. I thought about how, for so very long, I've felt disconnected and untied.

I remember those first moments after my father died. Letting go of his hand and walking away from his bedside, walking down the hallway of his condo, the carpet shushing underneath my feet. I walked outside to the little patio on which he always stood on Sunday mornings, watering his flowers. And I gently turned off the oxygen tank that sat in the corner. The machine hissed to a stop and the silence that was left was like a thing. I looked out across the rooves at the dusky California evening and I felt the whole world drop away from me.

Ever since that moment I've been struggling to regain myself. To at once reconnect in a meaningful way and to find a way to exist alone. I think that's what this blog has been about all along. What my life these past five years has been about.

And last night, sitting on the couch alone in the quiet house, I realized that I wasn't alone anymore. That Greg would be home in a couple of hours with members of his family and that the house would fill again with light and noise and love and that none of that is going away, that it will in fact, only increase. And that in a matter of weeks, I will commit myself to this man and this relationship -- to this deep meaningful connection that has been so deftly missing for so long.

The Countdown

Wow, so things are just happening so fast.

Yesterday was a blur of quick-decision wedding planning. I'm enjoying the last minute of it all because it's forcing me to make decisions that might have otherwise tripped me up or that I might have spent hours deliberating over...but there's no time for that now.

The church can't do a late afternoon wedding, would you be open to midday? Sure! Chocolate or vanilla cake? Both! Bride & groom on top or flowers? Bride & groom! Lobster clam bake in the backyard by the ocean? Fantastic!

In a flurry yesterday morning I registered at Crate & Barrel, made an appointment for hair and make up at Heather's Hairport in Harwichport and popped into Vogue Fabrics in Evanston so that I could match some material to the Vera for alterations. Then it was off to work where I can barely concentrate because I'm getting 20 emails an hour from the Booses and Chattertons (my mom's side) alike and we're all going back and forth about a million things and it's really quite fun and exciting and my favorite part is that all of our families are talking to each other and everyone's pulling together and collaborating and I don't feel so alone in all of this anymore.

And if that's the price I have to pay for not getting nitpicky over every single decision myself, then it's a small one.

And then it was off to Midway to pick up Greg's uncle and niece and then home to a relaxing evening eating dinner on the deck and drinking one of Lien's bottles of Beckman. I crashed at 10pm and now here I am at the dining room table while our guests are sleeping and Greg's getting ready for work and I'm drinking coffee and I have to hop in the shower because I'm working out of the Downers Grove office today and I'm wondering how I'm going to respond to all the emails in my inbox and I'm realizing that this is all going to fly by.

Here We Go!

Wow, in one day my life has turned into a maelstrom of wedding planning.

Although I'm not going to disclose the date publicly, I will say that Greg and I are getting married quite soon in a small ceremony on Cape Cod. We'll be married by my uncle in the same church where my parents were married and the date will be the same as the day his parents were married. I like the simple interweaving of the past and present, ourselves and our families.

Getting married is a surreal thing. Planning all the details, reconciling images long-held in my head with those that will actually occur, working with our families to create something that is meaningful for everyone, researching hotels and hair salons, making lists that say things like um, wedding shoes!, rehearsal dinner dress, champagne!!, and on and on.

Yesterday I ran to get the Vera Wang altered and stood there before the mirror in the shop with the women pulling and tugging and clucking over me and there I was in that white (ahem, sorry -- ivory) dress -- all those ideas women get about their lives and their weddings and their husbands and families swimming before me in the mirror.

The things I come back to over and over are the small and meaningful aspects of it. The things that Greg and I will say to each other, the unfolding of the quiet ceremony, the lighting of candles, of bringing together our families, of honoring those that can't be present. Every time I start to imagine walking down the aisle towards Greg I get tears in my eyes and I wonder if I'll actually cry when it happens. (Sometimes, at the most appropriate moments I don't cry. But I can also imagine practically sobbing.)

Before we had planned this hasty wedding (and no, I'm not pregnant -- we were literally just sick of planning it), I thought I had all the time in the world to talk with Greg about what marriage means to each of us and about this monumental commitment we're making to each other.

And now suddenly it's all happening and I keep thinking that we need to set aside time to explore all these issues. We need to go on a retreat or something! We should do a few sessions of marriage counseling! But then when I take that thought a step further and think of things I want to discuss with Greg, I suddenly realize that there is nothing.

I realize that I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that he is the man that I want to marry, that he holds dear all the same values and traditions and openness and goodness and love that I do, that he thinks of marriage as sacred and irreversible, and that he will always strive to be the best husband and partner and friend and bug-catcher and dish-washer emptier and cat-litter sweeper and trash-taker-outer and father and brother-in-law and friend to my friends and on and on and on until I realize that he is the only partner I've ever felt this way about and that's why we're getting married!

Okay, back to wedding planning and work and Greg's Uncle Ron coming tonight and the 4th of July and a yoga party we're having on our deck on Friday and my friend George from LA coming on Saturday and a short travel writing trip to Boulder and another friend coming to stay with us and life moving forward and onward, full of light and possibilities and love and family and friends...

 

Monday Morning

There's something so comforting and also so depressing about Mondays. I suppose it depends on how I'm feeling about my life.

Today I'm glad it's Monday. I'm glad for the fresh week, the unblemished perspective of the new days and thoughts that await. I'm glad for the weekend behind me, for all that it brought, the warmth and rejuvenation of friends and the Sunday afternoon respite.

We had the nicest weekend with my friends from Los Angeles and their magical three year old daughter. We cooked dinners and drank wine and rode the brown line down to the Loop and we ate deep dish pizza and Mick and I went to yoga, and their daughter was such a source of light and wonder throughout the days.

And then yesterday, after they had left and the house was quiet again and we were still shuffling through the newspaper and there were only dregs left in our coffee cups, Greg and I talked about the wedding. And we came to a final decision.

For now I'm not going to disclose any details, but I will say is that we're both very happy and very relieved by the decision we've arrived at. And there's no backing out or last minute change of hearts on this plan. We've already set it into motion, quite irreversibly. 

We've run the plan by most of our closest friends and family and it seems to make sense to everyone, most of all us. I'm so relieved to have a plan and a date and a picture in my head. I'm excited and nervous and it's all happening fairly soon so there's a lot to think about.

Wow, I'm getting MARRIED!

Tomorrow Greg's Uncle Ron from SF comes to stay with his teenage daughter through the July 4th holiday, so we only have a moment of respite before the house is full again. But I'm so glad for all the wonderful friends and family in my life that even in the midst of wedding planning or back-to-back guests, I never have any doubt that this is how I want my life to be.

(Check out our latest review of Cirque du Soleil's Kooza on She Wrote, He Wrote.)

 

The Morning After

Well, I'm feeling a little sheepish about yesterday's wedding tantrum.

Like I've been saying recently, in a lot of ways this blog is my diary...which means it's a place for me to really let out some of my inner thoughts and dialogues. Often a lot of things I'm still working out in my head end up on these pages. But that's part of my process and all of you are witness to that. And ultimately, I have to take responsibility for that.

I'm definitely feeling better. Not that anything has changed, but I do feel like I've gotten a lot of my feelings about planning the wedding off my chest. And I really appreciate everyone's input. Thank you for all the sweet and helpful comments everyone left yesterday -- it's so nice to hear that I'm not alone in my wedding madness -- all the tips and advice are helpful and fun to read.

Today I vow to take the approach that everything is just going to work out somehow. Or at least I vow to adopt this attitude until Monday, after the weekend is over. I want to put aside all this silly stress over something that's going to happen whether I stress about it or not, and focus on spending time with my friends who are coming to town this afternoon. Because above guest lists and perfect dates, caterers and honeymoons, all that really matters to me are the people in my life and the time I get to spend with them.

All that really matters to me is that I've met the most wonderful man who just makes my heart so full every time I even think of him.

On Wedding Planning

I cried for about two hours last night.

We finished the entire series of 6 Feet Under, which really set me off. I cried for a long time after the credits rolled up the screen, my tears soaking into Greg's t-shirt while he held me on the couch. For anyone who hasn't seen this show and who ever thinks big thoughts about life and death and love and everything in between, it's a must see.

When my sobs finally subsided, Greg and I went back to talking about the wedding -- something we've discussing a lot in the last couple of days. We're back to being unsure of where/when/how we want to get married. I feel like we've already gone through a thousand incarnations of how we want to do this but every few weeks we find ourselves back at this place of trying to figure it all out.

Right now we have a beautiful space here in Chicago reserved for April 11, 2009. We both love the space and we've taken friends and family alike to see it and they all love it as well. We could definitely imagine getting married there, amid a glow of candles and people we love. And April 11 is my Grandmother's birthday which is quite meaningful.

But try as we might we can't quite seem to make it all work financially. While Greg's parents have given us a generous sum, I'm receiving no financial support from my family, and I have no means by which to contribute myself. This has been a source of much shame and humiliation for me. I know that it's not always this way, but typically the bride's family takes care of the wedding, and even if we could stretch things to make the reception work with Greg's parent's money, I couldn't pay for a rehearsal dinner, fund our wedding bands or back a honeymoon.

The silliest part of it is that we really do have a fair amount of money from Greg's parents and we're so grateful for it but the thing we come back to over and over again is that even if we could double that money or just add a few thousand to it, we're uncomfortable spending that much on a wedding. The conundrum then is that we both get sad when talking about not having a wedding. If we're going to get married we want all of our friends and family to be there with us.

The bottom line is that we've explored it all at this point. Chicago, Cape Cod, Greg's hometown, and even the latest idea of Playa del Carmen. Over and over again we run up against walls of money, wrong dates, too much flying, not enough connection to that place, money, and on and on until I'm in tears and Greg is doing his best to reassure me that it will all work out.

All I really want is to get married in a meaningful ceremony. I've never wanted anything more in my life than to marry Greg Boose. And I just don't care about all the details. I've never been one of those girls who cares about invitations or flowers or place settings or guest favors. I appreciate them at other people's weddings but they aren't important to me at all when I think about what my wedding means to me and what I want to get out of it.

Last night we started talking about having a really small ceremony that would be just for me and Greg and his immediate family. I don't think I'd want to invite anyone at all. And that's what makes me cry. In that kind of thing I'd only want my parents and I can't have them. There are, of course, close friends whom I would love to be with me on my wedding day but I have so many amazing people in my life that I think it would be too hard to pick only a few. I think that not having family has enabled me to forge some incredibly close bonds with many people and I've come to truly view my large circle of friends as family. Not having them all there would be incredibly hard.

I'm feeling quite defeated over this whole thing. I would marry Greg this afternoon. And if it were up to me, we would just go somewhere, an island somewhere, just the two of us, and say our vows quietly to each other. Because that's all that matters to me.

But Greg's family matters a great deal to him. And that matters to me as well. One of the things I love so dearly about him is how much he loves his family and how close they are to each other. I do very much feel that I am marrying not only him but his big, wonderful family and I want to honor that as best I can.

Oh, I'm just writing myself in circles. I haven't figured anything out. I don't know what to do. I sat on the floor in the dark by my desk last night petting my old cat Lily and crying. She's 14 years old and I've had her since I was sixteen. I've had her since both my parents were alive and I was in high school and lived at home with them. She's the last remaining member of my immediate family. And I sat next to her last night and petted her fur and let tears drip down into translucent circles on my t-shirt and I wished more than anything in the world that my mom was here to help me figure all this out.

And then I cried because I missed my mom and because my memories of her seem so used up at this point. I have no new memories. Each memory I have is so worn out -- I've played them over and over in my head that they're like old videotapes that don't even seem real anymore -- and I can't really remember what it was like to sit next to her or to talk to her as a daughter talks to her mother.

When I finally went to bed Greg just put his arms around me and told me how much he loves me and we fell asleep that way.

---

On a lighter note, my girlfriend Mick and her husband Michael and their three year old daughter are coming to stay with us this weekend from Los Angeles. I can't wait to see them and to show them Chicago. They're thinking about moving here next year when Mick graduates from the same psychology grad program at Antioch in Los Angeles that I did. If they do move here then Mick and I could go into private practice together...which just sounds heavenly.

Tonight I'm taking Greg to the opening night of the new Cirque du Soleil show, Kooza. He's never been and I surprised him last week by getting us tickets. I can't wait to see what Greg's She Wrote, He Wrote post on Cirque is going to be like.

And speaking of SWHW, we have a new post up called Stop Us If We've Been Here Before: Brioso Vs Jack Rabbit.