some regrets are regretful

I saw a brilliant film, for the 2nd time, with new eyes, and it was as brilliant today as it was back in 1995 when it saw it for the first time at the Montreal World Film Festival.

La Haine by Mathieu Kassovitz.

Seeing that film on the big screen is a must - because the power of the image is lost on a small screen (not entirely, the characters and writing are simply phenomenal), but this was a film that was instrumental in influencing my reasons to be a filmmaker.

I can remember when it came out and I saw it here at the WWF. People were still reeling from their raging erection over Resevoir Dogs and i could not understand why. Taratino made over the top, in-your-face-violence sexy. Critics hailed him as a genius. When La Haine came out, I told everybody and their dog to RUN and see this film.

"If you think smart ass is the best thing since sliced bread, then you will see that this young man is the best thing since the electricity!" 


was my pre-amble and would quickly pique the interest of the testosterone mongers.


"And if you think Resevoir Dogs was raw, then you will walk out of this film with shit stains in your pants. Kassovitz does not make violence sexy. He makes it real. Yes, the film's atmosphere is fuled with fear, hate, and agression, it's also filled with a small glimmer of hope.  Any act of aggression is primitive, but this is the thinking man's aggression - a double edged sword which can be used for change or destruction. And in this film, it's both."

People listened up until about the last line and then yelled out in a sophomoric grunt:  "But Resevoir Dogs fucken Rocks man!"

Perhaps that is why La Haine never really "took off" in America. People were wrapped up in the sexualization, the glamourization of killing and maiming people. Power equals sex appeal. Sex appeal equals power. And Resevoir Dogs was all about that - it was an gangster genre regurgitated in an Armani suit and spit back out at the public in technicolor and dolby sound.

European films were always my preference. And this film solidified my belief that despite the US's hatred of the French, les Francais were head and shoulders above the intellectual and spiritual evolutionary ladder of middle America...



I'm too tired to go into all the details right now, because if i didn't edit myself, i could go on for hours, so i will edit...

I was called to be an extra in the movie Gothica and had auditioned for one of the bit parts, but was cast as a mental patient/inmate at a woman's prison. (The irony was not lost on me, and had a hoot telling my friends this story: "they could not have picked a better person to play a mental patient - HELLO!!")

Working with Halle Berry, and Robert Downy Jr (who actually shares my birthday - how geeky of me to know this..) was something i was looking forward to as they are both actors who are beyond talented, but I almost fainted when I found out after the fact that Mathieu was directing it. Working on the same set as him. What in God's name were the chances?!?!

it gets better...

I ran into him at one of the main film production houses before the show began. A complete chance meeting. We walked by each other and smiled - and both looked back at the same time. He must have been wondering why I was dragging my chin on the floor as he approached and then passed me.

I felt as if i was 14 and had just seen one of the Beatles in person, nearly fainting when i got outside of the building.

The first day on the set, (I had just highlighted my hair, making it even more flaming red than it already was) I whispered to all the girls about my meeting and that this quiet and sweet director was perhaps one of the most prolific young european directors of our generation.

And then he walked onto the set.

Nobody knew of this film i was raving about, let alone the director.

He walked past us, a group of 20 women, smiled, and then,  i guess he remembered me from our chance meeting a few days before (with my flaming red hair and falling jaw), looked right at me, and said "Hello".

I could hear the gasps behind me, and one of my friends grabbed my arm so hard, i was convinced that she was about to rip it off.

"YOU KNOW HIM!? HOW DO YOU KNOW HIM?!"
20 women began to buzz around me like angry hornets.

I explained my story. They were all star-stuck, but not as much as i was....

Here i was in the presence of a director who changed my views on filmmaking forever and I could not even bring myself to thank him for making that film, let alone tell him how much i admired his work not only as a director, but an actor.

I froze.

And the first shot of the filming, the camera pans past the women in the prison yard. Placing people is key. No matter what you think, every little thing in a shot is there for a reason. Everything.

Every body.

Chatty hens we were, and as they prepped the shot, MK looked over to my direction, talked with his assistant director, who then came up to me and asked me to move to the forefront of the shot. I guess he wanted my flaming red hair to punctuate the scene. (I was in fact, the only red head in the whole movie, oddly enough), so i knew this was not a mistake or whim. Red stands out against a grey background, with everybody in grey, looking grey (literally, we were all made to look pasty and ill).

My knees knocked as he yelled action.

We were on the set for 2 weeks, and not once did I say anything more than "bonjour". How i wanted so desperately to tell him: "thank you for that film. It changed my life. What an honor to be working with you...". I didn't say a peep.

And to top it off, I was rushed to the hospital due to an extreme case of food poisoning hours before the "famous Hale Berry naked in the shower scene". I had been picked to be one of the chosen few women to run around on set without any clothes.

Go figure.

I think had i been given the chance to be naked in front of him and the whole camera/sound crew, it would have been so easy to sit down and talk about anything after that experience. I mean, being naked in public can actually grow you a set of balls, and at that time, so desperately needed...


2010 a few hours ago...
5 years after Gothica was made, i saw La Haine again tonight, 15 years after the first time i saw it at the world film festival's exclusive premiere engagement.


And I have the deepest pangs of regret for not telling him how much i loved that film when i could have, actually had...

Criterion collection has made that film part of their repertoire. Jodie Foster even does a short intro about the film. Everybody knows who he is now, and what the film is.

I think that any praise at this point,  would not mean as much as it would have back in 2005 when not even Hollywood knew who he really was, (but at the time of the release of that film, Europe had already been singing his praises) and his film, an obscure cinematic gem was still yet undiscovered here on the other side of the ocean. Yet that film still endures. I just found out that he is working on another film, which i have no doubt, will be true to his vision, and touch people once again.

Deep regret.
I feel so sad that i'm sick to my stomach.


Odd isn't it.
This regretful regret.

Perhaps because I am a filmmaker myself, an artist who lives their work even more passionate than their day to day lives, because i know that knowing that your work has touched somebody's life so deeply is such a deeply humbling experience, and the fact that i missed that window of opportunity while i had more than several wide open spaces to literally, walk right up to him tears me up inside.

J'ai perdu mon courage...

I never got to thank him for inspiring me. For being so brave to take such a bold stance on a subject that was so personal to him. For standing tall in the face of his critics because he believed so unflinchingly in the movie he wanted to make. I never got to say: "your film changed my life...:

That moment is gone forever.

Unless, i can find his agent...



Dare I retell my story at the risk of sounding like a complete geekazoid?

I don't know, but something is telling me: "what's the worst that can happen? it's not like he even lives in my country that I will ever see him again..." and that: "hey, he might actually appreciate your sincere gesture of appreciation."

I dunno

but i do know that my time on this planet is short, and that going for 3 days without more than 4 hours of sleep is making me a bit manic, and there are times when i was manic and did things that i regretted, but life experience and battle scars have  made me a little more savvy and attuned to my intuition when it nudges me. I don't want to live a life of regrets any more.

I've made a promise to myself.
Stay true to your hopes, dreams, and live life to the fullest.
Take chances. Take as many as you can.

Will work on an email, polish it up, sound uber intelligent and coherent, and then take a breath, take a chance, and press "Send" to Mr. Mathieu one day soon.

making it worse before it gets better

I once had a boss who was the epitome of a douchebag.
Seriously.

The day he decided to make my life a living hell was the day that the head surgeon/chair of the department joked to him while I was taking pictures at a 'chi-chi" event.

"Mark, you better be careful or this young lady is going to take your job soon!"

ha ha ha ha

laughs all around.

But it was true. Or could have been.
I worked the room like a smooth ass teflon Don politician. Everybody liked my unobtrusive yet charmingly quirky demeanor. Everybody wanted me to take their picture. The night was a huge success. The head surgeon/chair came up to me near the end of the event: "it is a pleasure to have you working with us."

well, that didn't last long...

Shitforbrains flipped and began to panic because the big cheese was on my side. Loved me and said hi every time he came into our office. Turdo didn't even get so much as a mumble.

And he hated me for it.
Or shall i say abhorred me for it.

He sabotaged me in every way he could. Tried to break me every way he could.
I just had an operation that left me weak and ill, and he used that to his advantage.
I broke and he fired me. Just one day shy of being unionized.

I should have known that it was coming down the pipeline.
"It's only gonna get worse..." was his sick and fucked up mantra.

No wonder he was a miserable fat sloth moron.

But I digress from venting...

It's only gonna get worse ...


I find myself saying this right now as i try to march stoically through these horrendous side effects of my GERD medication.

I tried to explain to my gastro doc that I felt like i had been run over by a buss. That i was putting on weight like a rowboat in a monsoon. That i was becoming moody and manic.

"well, i've never heard of those side effects before"
(ergo - they don't exist)

But now thanks to the internet, more and more people are chiming in about the wonderful world of heavy duty meds and the delightful cornucopia of pleasantries that twist your insides and outsides into a wet noodle.

(taken from Wikepedia: Thomas A. Scully, head of the Federal Centers for Medicare and Medicaid services also criticized AstraZeneca for their aggressive marketing of Nexium. At a conference of the American Medical Association he went so far as to suggest that Astra was using the new drug to overcharge consumers and insurance companies. "You should be embarrassed if you prescribe Nexium," he claimed, "because you're screwing your patients and you're screwing the taxpayers.")





GERD can be a serious thing. I was rumored to have Barrette's esophagus, which is one step away from esophageal cancer, but a biopsy showed that the tissue was not diseased, but was told that I would have to go in every 6-8 months for a gastroscopy to make sure. Getting a tube/camera shoved down your throat is not a fun experience. I would rather have 10 colonoscopies to one gastroscopy.  Yes, that many. Being awake for both, the sensation of having your throat and thorax scraped with a toilet bowl brush over and over again is not my idea of a good time.

It's ironic - i never was a smoker, or a drinker, yet I have what most smokers and drinkers suffer from. Oh if i were only able to say that i had and once enjoyed those vices, perhaps the intestinal prodding would seem more tolerable. Perhaps it's all made worse by the fact that I have a Hiatus hernia...


It's only gonna get worse ...


These pills - nasty pills. Have caused my fybromalgia to flare up in a serious way. I have to actually walk with a cane. Standing causes me to help in pain with each step, sitting is tantamount to sucking my skin and muscles into the floor with an industrial vacuum cleaner. And sleep? Well, I'll have none of that. The brain is mostly made of water, but is also a muscle, and with fybromyalgia, all muscles hurt, a lot. Including my brain.


It also triggers my bipolar.
Not a pretty sight considering I am already fighting that on a regular basis.

No more sunny days, no more walking with flip flops, letting the warm weather wrap me in its arms like a bright candy colored flannel blanket.

Fall - cold, damp, grey.
All my enemies for so many reasons.

I had an alternative, but that is even more scary than what i'm on now.

I had taken it once before, and had to get off after the third dose. My doctors thought i was crazy. Well, this crazy lady now has back up.

Astra zeneca has now packaged a long list of troubling side effects, preceded by the warning: Consult your doctor if these conditions occur or become worse.

Well, all the ones I had once tried to explain were all there in mauve and white.

Pretty packaging, not so pretty side effects.

It's only gonna get worse ...




I can hear people saying: "at least you don't have to go through chemo!"
Well, if this condition worsens, i may just have to...

But yes, it is gonna get worse before it gets better, and i have to take this bitter pill, my medicine, but why does something that is supposed to heal you make you more sick than what you started with?

Isn't that backwards?
Oh modern medicine, why must you be such a motherfucker?

and of course...

got back yesterday from a week of camping. Miss it already - the smell of trees in the morning, marshmallow roasting, mosquito swatting, refreshing lake swimming - pure sublime Vermont mountain chill...

Happy Birthday B

she would have been 89 today

Happy Birthday B.
I can't think of a more fitting tribute than to have your postcard and your story touch other people's lives around the world. For starters, you have already visited Brasil. Next stop, the town you came to call home...


A book about death


(click on images to see full size)

Front and back

Front

Back

Front - no back

pen pals

wow.

I just got added as a friend from an old pen pal of mine.

Way back from, oh man, 1982?

Holy crap.

Do i feel old, but quite happy.

gotta love modern technology.

Deep woods off

Came back from camping the other day.

God. It did us so much good to get away - into the woods, with nature, waking up and hearing the birds sing, the smell of fresh moist earth and wet leaves.

We are all meated out. Hamburgers, steak, and more steak. The best things on the bbq and so easy to make. BBQ season ends soon, thankfully. I've put on 10 pounds since the wedding. But i've enjoyed every mouthful of food that i've shoveled into my pie hole.

Putting up and taking down twice was a chore. We should have stayed at one site, but it was nice to see the rest of the park. First site - right off the water. It was my little fresh water ocean. Waves lapping against the weather-beaten rocks. The wind was refreshing. Kept the mosquitos away too. Nature's insect repellant.

Next site - deep in the belly of the forest. Waking up to a sea of green and dark bark. Nothing like it. Watching log burning tv live was simply bliss.

We got eaten alive. Especially me - welts all over my body. Some infected. Think i might be allergic to black fly stings. There must have been one that snuck into the tent. He must be a fat happy motherfucker today.

Dreamt of my father's father - he was carrying bibles and was waiting in some hallway to an office space with meeting rooms off on the side (hmm. purgatory perhaps?) and holding bibles. Funny and ironic. He was a communist in real life. Perhaps he switched his views while stepping out of his body. Too many iron clad ideas to carry along into the next dimension.

He spoke to me - as always, without words. Was very happy to see me. I didn't waste any time telling him all about my father, how much of an asshole he had been, become, the whole wedding fiasco, how he left me and mom high and dry. I let it all out - without holding back. He had to know that his "perfect son" was not without some really huge ass flaws.

I was so bowled over by his reaction. Utter and complete sadness. He kept on apologizing, over and over again, saying how he never knew and could not believe how he could have brought up such an angry man. Clutching his bibles, eyes watering, repeating like a mantra: "I'm so so very sorry. I never knew". In the distance, i saw a fading apparition of staranka, and thought to myself, "she set up this meeting for me. I had a funny feeling she would..."

A few days later, dreamt of Starenka. Had not dreamt of her since she died, which is odd for me since dead people show up in my dreams not long after they die to tell me how good they are doing, and how they are watching out for me. She looked so well, rosy cheeks, glowing smile, wearing the crazy tacky costume jewelry I gave her with so much pride.

She told me how happy she was that i came to visit her in her new home. Nurses and social workers buzzed about, all smiling and laughing with her. What a wonderful atmosphere. Always the social butterfly, she alternated talking to me with arranging her seating area, giving away candy to the nurses. Nothing much had changed, except she was finally at peace.

I felt a sense of relief, of warmth surround us. She told me not to worry, that she was looking out for me and my mom. With arms wide open, I walked into a warm grandmotherly hug and she was wheeled away down the hall.

Turns out mom dreamt of her too, the same night while mom was at a country house with me and my friends. "I've come to visit and I've brought some of my friends. I hope you don't mind, we are going to stay five days!". Mom was happy, but also knew she had a lot of work ahead with 8 people to feed and entertain, but was grateful for the visit.

"I'm always working. Even in my dreams. No wonder i wake up tired every morning" mom said after sharing her memory with me today.

And today, despite the infected bug bites, the sweltering humidity in the city, and mounds of dirty stinky clothes left from camping waiting to be washed, i feel happy and calm.

It's nice to get these kinds of visits. Even if they are only through our dreams.

Note to self, deep woods off is absolute crap.

change skins

augh.

I'm throwing up my hands for this one.

It seems like there will be a never-ending who hurt who first cat and mouse game.

I mean hello - the man is 67 years old. Grow the fuck up!

His email was like a kick in the face, transporting me back, 30 years ago when i sat at a table across from him. It was the final settlement of the alimony child support fiasco. I had moved in with my boyfriend, and he and his wife deiced to pay a visit. Turns out it was a fact finding mission, not a friendly drop in - according to my father (through his lawyer), since i was living with somebody now, there was no need to pay child support. So he began the process of claiming that he was going to sue me for all the back child support/alimony payments.

it was ugly - even more disgusting than the divorce. I was 20 years old, just recovering from a severe breakdown, sitting in front of a man who called himself my father. His eyes dead, black, not the brown i had remembered them to be.

Back room discussions between lawyers finally ironed things out.

He would continue with the original agreement as stipulated in the divorce papers 19 years ago. Child support until my 21st birthday.

As our lawyers passed around the papers to be signed, i passed him a paper with all the names of my current doctors. Three psychiatrist, an endocrinologist, gynecologist and a general doctor all agreeing that i was in fact, suffering from a severe hormonal imbalance, and severe Premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PPMD) and manic depression. My "fits of crying and depression" were not in my head, and were not tools to "manipulate" him into giving me more money. They were real.

I said this, pointing to the list of doctors and their phone numbers.

"every one of them said you can call them for details. Every one of them said they would be happy to explain all of this to you. My problems are not "in my head". They are real."

Without blinking , or looking up, he snarled:

"well, if i asked my doctor when all my problems started, they would say they all started when you were born!"

and that was all he said.

He stood up, pushed the chair away, shook his lawyers hand and bolted for the door.

We all sat there - mouths gaping wide open.

Stunned.

In shock.

did he just say that?

His lawyer began to apologize profusely, sincerely disturbed by his client's outburst.

What could he say? What could we say?

Our lawyer took me into her office, and gave me a big hug.

"He's just an evil man. In all of my years of practice, i have never seen anything as despicable as this. I am so sorry this had to happen."

I was in shock. My mom was in shock.

We sat in the car, running the scenario over and over in our head for days.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months, and then into years.

And then one day, it just happened.

I learned to let go.

I woke up and told myself that he did what he did for some strange alien reason that i would never understand (which turned out to be his psychotic wife who always believed i was out to steal him from her) and that holding a grudge was only poisonous to me. I had to accept and love him nonetheless.

So then i opened the door to forgiveness. Opened the lines to dialogue.

And one day, out of the blue he called. Left a long message on my phone. He had cancer, had beat it, was retired, and looking forward to reconnecting.

And we did, and it was wonderful. Finally, as adults, we were able to talk, laugh. I had my father back in my life again. Not as my father per say, but a wounded man who was happy to reconnect with a young woman he had once loved dearly. A part of him. He a part of me. Associated by blood lines.

Blood is thicker than water.

but after months of spotty correspondence, old patterns re-emerged again. "Yea, we will get together, come up north", but something would always come up.

Here we go again.

I was the 11 year old girl, sitting on the stoop of her front door. Tiny suitcase in had, waiting for dad to pick her up for a nice weekend up north.

he never came

"I forgot..."

I forgave, moved on. Accepted and then let go.

Life went on.

Then one day, the nasty email from facebook.

"I'm entitled to know what is going on because I am your father.."

whaaaatttt???

I wrote back, calmly. Logically, giving all the facts.

His reply, short and sweet. Something about he suffered pain of loneliness, and that certain people and situations kept me away from him.

cryptic.

I moved on, opening the door to dialogue. Besides, i wanted him to be a part of the biggest day of my life. He was still my father. Not a very good one, but still one.

It was pleasant, but that was it. He only came up to me to say goodbye at the end of the night. We laughed, took a few photos and that was it. The joy of the day overshadowed the awkwardness of that final exchange. But I was still happy he came.

Then the lovely email - a day after my honeymoon.

Another kick in the stomach.

Then the news mom's cancer had come back.

Sucker punched again.

wounded and weary, knowing that another boxing mach would begin soon - round x with cancer treatment. Not again, fucken cancer. Can't you stay away?!

so i replied. Trying to be as honest as possible. What did i have to lose anymore?

Dad,

All i can say is that i'm so very sorry that you felt the way you did. It was in no way done to hurt anybody. I was very saddned and very depressed when i got this email a day after my honeymoon. I didn't know what to say - what could I say after all? I think sorry would not be enough...

You know, not having you in the wedding party was such a tough decision. I was very very confused and it caused me many sleepless nights, but please try to see this from my perspective, please try to understand - if things were different in both of our lives and i had to make decisions on how our lives would have turned out - we all would have been a happy family - both mom and dad walking me down the isle, but the reality of it all is that mom has been all alone to raise me all by herself for the past 30 years. I could not make you a bigger part of this wedding without causing her a lot of pain, and because of everything i have seen her go through first hand, and all that she has done for me and seen me go through, i felt it was my way of thanking her for taking care of me and loving me so much. She was involved right from day 1 - driving me to every store in the city, spending late nights with me making the invitations, planning, and all while in between, doing her il2 treatments. Lots of stuff happened so quickly - it seems like i blinked and the day was over.

It was a hard decision but i hope you understand that as an adult, people have to make difficult decisions in their life, and this was one of them...

And the day really went by so quickly - it was hard for me to get to everybody. People were coming up to me to talk, i really wished you had taken a moment, taken me aside and had a nice father/daughter chat, wished me well, and told me how pretty i looked, because every girl wants to hear that from her dad on her special day - regardless of the situation. But I want you to know, that despite the way things turned out, I was so very happy that you came, and yes, i too wish we could have taken some photos together - but you know what? Nobody got family photos. I have none of us with eric's parents or with you or mom, so don't feel left out. Somebody was supposed to be looking out and making sure all of this got done, but it happened. We can't go back in time and change it or be angry because of it.

but alas, things happened the way they happened. We live and move on.

i think there are a lot of unresolved issues - and the wedding was not the place to talk about them. I know we need one on one time so we can really talk. Email is so hard, and not very personal.

In an email long ago, you wrote: Some situations and some people had kept you away from me

what did that mean exactly? I was always there, always waiting, hoping that we could reconnect, and i hope that we still can.

hpk

Mom had her operation. Another hell experience in the hospital. They didn't give her medications to her for 4 days. Prozac, synthroid. Anti depressant and thyroid medication. Two very important meds. She was going through serious withdrawal. You don't come off cold turkey with prozac. It can make you lose your mind.

Seriously...

She was let out of the hospital too early, without any dressing on her 30 inch incision across her belly. No follow up appointments. Nothing.

She got sick, the wound seriously infected. Rushed to the hospital again.

The never-ending saga.

Then a reply.

Mute and dazed, i walked away from the computer. E was away on business and knew that re-reading this would drive me insane. I fwd it to him and waited for his call.

He came back. We talked. I cried, yelled and cried some more.

I had no more strength. Fighting for my mom in the hospital with incompetent and insensitive staff, seeing my poor mother suffer again drained me. And now this.

Thank you for your email.


It still does not change or lighten up my hurt.


I'll make it short, like your comment, "as an ADULT, people have to make difficult decisions in THEIR LIVES and that things happened the way they happened." You certainly made yours.


In closing, I truly wish you and your mate all the best.


Dad.

I guess that was it.

or that is it.

There is no solution to this never ending fight.

He is now dead to me. How anybody can do this to their own child is beyond my comprehension. Grow up old man. You will forever be under the iron thumb of your so called wife. She got you to tie your tubes, she will make you cut the strings with your only daughter.

You are made for each other.

so i try to walk away, not looking back,

not looking back.

“To change skins, evolve into new cycles, I feel one has to learn to discard. If one changes internally, one should not continue to live with the same objects. They reflect one's mind and the psyche of yesterday. I throw away what has no dynamic, living use.”

~Anais Nin

happy fragments - a memory of a magical night

I will have to do this in fragments

it's late, and oddly enough, past my new bedtime hour, but I have to take the memories where and when I can find them - so here they are, a few at a time.

Incredible - the weather, the place, the dress, the mood, the food.

ohh. the food was sooo good!

Memories - the Limo

And go figure, it was called the Presidential limo. No letter from Obama, but like mom said: "at least we got the Presidential Limo!" I hope somebody got a shot of me leaning near the crest making a thumbs up.

Lori could not believe how calm i was, and kept on saying so. I too was calm. Don't know how I did it, but I was. Even Ma. Neither of us cried (I don't think she did) but i was stoic, peaceful throughout.

Yea, I guess I rocked.

Dancing 

Remember at some point, Betty telling everybody to do the conga line - follow the bride. Remember looking back and seeing about 15 people waving their arms in the air - mimicking my steps. Too funny!

The ceremony

The superman blessing. How cool was that?

Seeing E tear up as he was reciting the vows. That took my breath away. How sweet was that?

Oh that had to be the best mass I have ever attended in my whole life.

That day, Fr. Gerry made us all see how cool God was...

Remember standing at the bottom of the steps, waiting for Scott, and looking outside and seeing Auntie Lilly and Uncle Stanley coming out of the car. Their fragile bodies slowly making their way up the stairs. That moved me so very much that they took the time and effort to come.

Walking down the isle - the British Airways commercial in the background on a Cassavant organ. Betty flagging me and my mom down - "Don't walk so fast! Slow Down!"

Me walking slowly, taking it all in, looking at all the faces looking at me, and then as I got closer, E looked over to me and smiled.

Sitting there, listening to Fr. Gerry talk about how he knew me, met eric, his connection to the Pols and Slovaks, the whole unity thing. He should be speech writing for Obama...

And then the vows. Facing the crowd. That was so new. I wasn't nervous. I could tell E was tho.

Still can't believe how calm i was. Don't know what came over me. And it was only .25 of an Ativan. Baby dose. And I only took it in the limo for backup; and in retrospect, I don't think I even needed it.

Our first dance.

That actually turned out to be no too painful. E was lubed up, but i was yet to discover the joys of having an open bar.  Perhaps it was a good thing he was smoothed - no counting and bobbing his head. Yea, I guess it was a good thing. We hit our mark on the end - photo finish. Everybody loved it. Auntie and Uncle told ma that we "were the new generation of dancers". Coming from two former champions, that rocked.

and I ended up wearing the shoes I wore the first time. The shoemaker made the others too big. A disappointment to me and E, but the other shoes brought us good luck. They were happy feet again.

The food - oh how awesome it was!

Really enjoyed it. But that whole Little Miss M meltdown at the table as E did his speech. Hmmm. Thank God E's joke saved the moment.

And the whole cupcake table - that was such an awesome job Anayiz did!! I hope lots of people took lots of photos of it!

And to hear how much everybody loved the whole get up - theme tables, the cd's, cupcakes etc. All that hard work, late nights were worth it.

The shoot at the park.

That was nice. Oh the weather was just perfect.

I had been terrified all the way home from the hair salon. Grey, cold, and getting darker by the minute. At one point, it even began to sprinkle, and like magic - the clouds parted, the sun came out, the temperature rose and as I stepped out of the house, into the limo - summer began.

It was so nice to walk around in the grass, the sun in my eyes, not having to worry that at 6pm, i would need a shawl or jacket (thank God we didn't end up spending 175$ on a shawl!) cause I didn't' need one anyway. Hope scott got some good shots.

Still kicking myself for not bringing my camera.

but I can't worry about that now, or let it drag the rest of these fond memories down.

Note to self: how often do you say after a concert: Oh i was so pissed off and disappointed they didn't play this song!? and let that leave a bad taste in my mouth? Can't do that now.

Must remember that out of 70+ people, at least 50 were taking photos that day. At the church, ti sounded like a press conference!!

Ooof. I am pooped.

must sleep, and hopefully to return refreshed with more happy fragments 2mrw.

from this day forward...

Everything was simply perfect -

the dress, the makeup, the hair

the maid of honor and bridesmaids

my mom and all her wonderful glowing aura rays

the limo

the flowers

the church

the organ music

the huge group of people who came

the food

the decoration

the music

the dancing

and the weather - oh the weather was just so perfect

and the man, the moment and the day

that is what dreams are made of

and my husband and i now being a new life together

from this day forward.

everything was just so perfect, beyond my wildest dreams

Goodbye Vandoosh

Goodbye Vandoosh
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty

Goodbye vandoosh.
the world seems a little less wonderful without you in it...

goodbye

it was about 6:30pm when she died - a heart attack. Quick and silent, and apparently, without pain. She was surrounded by the wonderful women at the nursing home where she stayed - her "home" away from home. She loved it there, and they all loved her. She was one of the most lucid people in the whole building.

I was asleep when e woke me up to tell me. 

I'm still in shock.

It was just a few days ago we were talking about what she was going to wear to my wedding.

she loved it when i did my impression of the greek woman in the house next to my mom's. 

she loved it when i laughed

she loved it when i sang "sing with heehaw vandoosh" - apparently vandoosh was a name I heard somebody say on the radio, and at 3 years old, you couldn't tell me that it was not a real word.

38 years later, it still made her laugh so very hard - we all did.

What a wonderful memory. One of many...

So very sad. I wanted nothing more than her to see me walk down the isle - her first granddaughter.

Goodbye Starenka.

Hopefully, you will find many vandooshes to sing to you in heaven and may the souvlaki and greek music fill your days with sunshine.

I will love you and miss you terribly.