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Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Happenstance Strikes Again.

So back sometime in the spring when I thought our finances were going to be getting a whole heck of a lot better than they ended up being (damn you, banks and gas company for your arbitrary increases to our already ridiculous monthly bills) I had this small fantasy, if you will, about how I wanted to spend Columbus Day weekend.

Sounds random, right?

And while I completely respect the movement to abolish the holiday due to racial oppression and slavery of Native American peoples of the times, this has nothing to do with that.

I got married on Columbus Day weekend, three years ago.
blog first dance ten ten o eight
still one of my favorite candids. we're yet to get the professional ones.
it's a long story.

The tenth of October, to be exact. And NO I WAS NOT DOING A CUTESY MATCHY DATE THING like 7/7/07 or this year's 9/10/11. Gag me with a spoon.

No, originally I wanted to get married on Halloween, but I talked myself out of that specific date while maintaining that I wanted to get married on a Friday night, and the place we got married has a huge Oktoberfest event that they block off two weekends for, and I wanted October, and the tenth was available so I was sold.

I should have gotten married on Halloween.

But anyway.

If you're not a long-time reader or, you know, all up in my non-digital life, you may not know that I was 4.5 months pregnant with Kiedis when we finally walked down the aisle I'd been scheming for two years prior. No, he was not a planned child. And yes, he's pretty much been doing whatever the eff he wants whenever he wants since conception, including conception.

So while we were going to postpone a honeymoon before I was pregnant, we just nixed the whole idea once we found out I was. My dad put us up in the nicest hotel downtown for a couple of nights and we did go to a festival the next morning and sort of enjoy our weekend, but we both had to be back at work on Monday so the closest we got to a honeymoon was not sleeping in our own house the night of our wedding.

Then, on our one-year anniversary we were in the process of getting divorced and I cried myself to sleep in my mom's bed at her condo (not even in my old room because she'd moved in there when I moved in with Kyle) completely alone save for the one cat I took with me in the dead of night when I was bullied out of my own house. Kyle had Kiedis that night, so yeah. It was rough.

Then last year, just a whopping six or so weeks after Tova was born my parents "sponsored" a date night (on a Sunday, mind you, because that's what our actual anniversary was) where my dad gave us some money to go eat with and my mom watched the kids for a few hours, but you know, we had to come home at a reasonable hour because Kyle had to work the next day and Tova was still on an every-three-hour feeding schedule, so yeah.

This year, I thought we might be able to manage a weekend actually away, now that the kids are older and I  was under the impression we'd be able to afford it. And while a quick jaunt to somewhere sunny and secluded sounded divine, I found my wanderlust heading more towards something earthy, autumnal, blissfully simple and honestly, unplugged. Somewhere we could connect as a romantic couple -- not just as co-parents or roommates or even a couple in crisis, but as those two kids who met in the Sociology of Sexual Behavior (no joke) six years ago where the regular rigmarole of our daily lives could wait for just a little while as we just enjoyed each other's company for the first time in too long.

I wanted to go to a bed and breakfast somewhere like Put In Bay or Amish Country or maybe even around Louisville -- a drive away, but longer than an hour or so. Something foreign to us but not completely unknown.

And for someone with hotel phobia issues (I was scarred by a Dateline about hotel cleanliness at a very tender age) this was kind of huge for me.

But as money got tighter instead of more abundant and I discovered our anniversary was on a Monday, I gave up my secret dream and resigned myself to another year of pretty much nothing special.

Also in case you were unaware, I've been writing from a home improvement site for a little over a year and a half now, and just recently I was given opportunity to represent them at an event near Columbus. The talks about it started in August, I think, trying to coordinate the best dates and times for the select few involved, which honestly, is awesome because I do have a household I'm trying to run over here and toddlers to get places and such. Plus, I was really excited because this completely makes me feel legit -- they trust me to be their arm at an event.

Better than all huddled in my corner of the dining room in my pjs that are two days old, that's for sure.

So this thing's all coming together throughout September, and I find out that it's less Columbus-ish and more somewhere between Canton and Akron-ish, so further than I thought and slightly more gone than I anticipated but I'm still all stoked about it when I get the email confirming the dates and my availability.

At 2pm on October 10th, I'm to arrive to a brand-new hotel suite in Amish Country, dine at a local Amish restaurant that night, and then get up on the 11th and spend all day at the event, to return home that evening hopefully before midnight.

I'm getting the anniversary getaway I wanted ... just without my husband.

I've been trying to make light of it, telling Kyle that we're just on a one-year-on, one-year-off celebration schedule and this is an off year, and I mean, it is a Monday which is not a very sexy day of the week if you ask me, but it's a little hard to hide the disappointment we both feel at missing our anniversary together.

And I really can't think about the fact that I'll be sleeping alone again on my anniversary. It makes my PTSD want to flare up something awful.

It's just that we've been through the trenches these last three years and while we're by no means out of the woods, we are doing better and are trying to figure out how we can be better for each other because there actually is a lot of love there between us, just a whole bunch of shit burying it most of the time.

So it would have been nice to be able to celebrate together even making it this far, considering the odds we've faced. But this is life and while it kind of sucks, it'll pass as everything always does.

I just can't believe the happenstances of life sometimes -- it's all just SO CLOSE to being perfect, but just falls short.

But that's pretty much the story of my marriage as a whole, so I really shouldn't be surprised.

I really just should have gotten married on Halloween.