I've been trying to think of something blog-worthy for a few days now...A friend who reads my blog regularly, even though I don't write often enough to keep anyone interested, told me that I need to just put things out there until I find my blogger voice.  I 'umhm'd' and shook my head politely all the while thinking, "You just can't say blog out loud in person, it makes everyone sound dumb."  She is one of the coolest people I know, and it didn't really work out even for her.

 I wonder how many people who actually have blogs admit it in the face of adversity.  I think I might cave.  What does this mean about me?  That's another thing, don't most blogs just become woefully self-indulgent?  Yet, one has no choice!  You can't listen or ask questions while blogging, the only thing you can do is go on and on about yourself, show picture after picture of yourself in various crazy and zany poses and pray that the masses still respect you in the morning.

My impulse is to blog about wedding stuff because I'm eating, sleeping, and breathing wedding related tasks as there are only 31 more days until January Elizabeth Newbanks is no more.  Now don't worry, she won't completely disappear, she'll come back as January Elizabeth Newbanks Soell (Yes, I do realize it is obnoxious to reference one's self in third person, but I am trying to find my blogger voice, please make allowances).

For those of you who have known me in person, you know that until recently the phrase, "I want to get married" has been conspicuously missing from the list of things I say.  There is a reason for this.  I never really wanted to be married--and certainly not in my twenties. I think I was right. Love has made me soft.  I don't even know who I am anymore without that acute sense of being alone in the world coupled with a little tiny bit of angst.  I used to be so full of sass and spitfire.  These days I'm buying very expensive white dresses, obsessing about centerpieces, seriously tempted to put one of those curious count-down things on my blog... perhaps accompanied by a little slideshow of Andy and I kissing each other's cheeks while holding our own camera.  What has happened to me?  I've gone soft.

Despite what the last few paragraphs may indicate, I decided against blogging about wedding stuff. Practically everyone is getting married who isn't already married, and I don't think I'm going to contribute much there.  Although, I have to add as a side-note before I move on, that I was surprised the requirements for getting married set by the state of Ohio are so alarmingly low in standard.  Andy and I took a little jaunt down to the court house to pick up our marriage license and all we did was raise our right hands and swear that we weren't drunk, high, or cousins...seriously?  That's all?

I think Andy is having second thoughts about marrying me (Ok, I'm not really moving on...I guess my blogger voice is blocked by the afore mentioned poofy white dress).  The other night I came home from work, made myself some tea and settled in to watch three brain-free hours of a bejeweled pop-culture spectacle otherwise known as the MTV 2006 VMA's.  This is one of the highlights of pre-season television viewing in my world, AND Justin Timberlake was opening the show with his crazy-pants dancing...what could be better, I ask? (I'm intentionally avoiding the obvious  'Sexy Back' joke; Al Gore ruined it for me)  Andy happened to come over at some point and sat down to watch with me even though this is way, and I do mean WAY beneath him.  He reminded me of this fact a few times.  I should have noted the more than sufficient warning, but I lack the necessary presence of mind to avoid large mistakes while Missy Elliot is wedged into a mini-jeep wearing what can only be described as a sparkily hunchback teletubby suit.

So Lou Reed is introduced at one point and without thinking I say to Andy, "So who is Lou Reed, again?"  Big Mistake.  BIG.  He turns to me looking personally wounded and says, "Are you trying to get to me, now?  Seriously?  Lou Reed?"  That is when I saw it...the look in his eyes that said, "I am making a huge mistake marrying this woman."  Now, before Andy promised to love me no matter how stupid I am or become, I would have just let Lou Reed come and go with no acknowledgement.  I would have said nothing and everyone would still think I'm smart.  I blame love.  Like I said, love has made me soft and willing to look like the idiot that I really am to my cute little elitist boyfriend and who knows if it will stop there.

Had things gone a little differently and had Missy not been in the middle of that mind-boggling mini-jeep and spacesuit performance, I may have reminded Andy that while he spent his high school years listening to Pearl Jam and exploring the stimulating depths of classic rock all the while worshipping the devil, (inadvertently, of course...he really lacks the commitment to pull off something like that) I was reading the Bible and feeding the homeless.  I simply had no time for classic rock exploration.  ;)

If you are worried about us after reading this, you needn't be.  Andy won't really leave me.  I think he kind of likes to have me around as an ego boost.  Elitists need we ordinary folk to remind them just how cool they are.

In closing, I would just like to take a moment to celebrate a new milestone in my life.  After 27 years on this earth, I finally know what 'haute couture' means.  I owe this all to Project Runway, which has been changing my life one episode at a time for three seasons now.  It's a good day.


P.S.  I have listened to Velvet Underground before.  I even liked it.  I just don't know all their names.

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With the start of Fall (aka the greatest season) only a few short days away, I could not be happier. The weather here has already sunk to the 60's and I can see little tips of leaves starting to turn yellow and red.  Autumn happens to be one of Ohio's only redeeming qualities...that and the hills.  I love hills.  Pretty soon, the world will look like this again:



Only a few short weeks until Andy and I get married, I really couldn't be more excited.  I'm also looking forward to traveling again.  Costa Rica should be fun...It's been a while since I've visted our Latin friends :).

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Well folks I've been married officially now for nine days and Andy has already had a chance to see if  I really meant what I said when I gave my vows.  Approximately  two hours after we left our  wedding reception, my brand new husband  found himself with a boiling temperature and unable  to breathe.  As luck would have it, he has Pneumonia. Good times.  I've been a little neurotic over the last week.  The xray tech called the day after Andy was diagnosed with Pneumonia and said there were some abnormalities that concerned them and he needed a CT scan so they could get a better look.  After the CT scan, the doctor said they couldn't see past the infection to have any sort of idea of what the abnormalities are. We'll have to wait six more weeks for any definitive news.  These happenings have prompted some real heartwarming conversations between hacking fits.

Andy:  "You know, it's pretty crazy to think I'm sick with an illness I definitely would have died from a hundred years ago."

January:  (Staving off panic attack at images of being widowed after only one week) "Yes, Andy, that is pretty crazy."

So, Andy's been house-bound for the last week and a half and we had to postpone our trip to Costa Rica by a few months, but nothing a little Battleship and far too much tv can't handle.  I wouldn't recommend watching more than two Grey's Anatomy episodes in succession.  We rented the first two seasons to watch which was a bad idea on several different levels.  First of all, EVERY patient is worst-case-scenario and needs some sort of life-threatening surgery to cure their rare and deadly illness, AND people die sad, sad deaths.

All in all, we've had a good time trying to keep each other entertained and distracted from the thought that we could be at a tropical resort walking, talking, moving around, going outside, you know, doing things that you can do when you are able to breathe in and out. Someday this will be nothing but an amusing anecdote, I'm sure *crossing fingers*.

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So...who would have thought?  With all the event planning and calendar keeping that seems to plague my life wherever I go (Oh, who am I kidding, I like it), I can't seem to motivate myself to plan my own wedding.  I'm actually having dreams of running off toVegas and I HATE Vegas! 

I think part of it is the money...why do these things have to cost your first born child?  Also, planning and thinking about the wedding makes missing my mom a million times harder.  Even though she's been gone for nearly two years, now, imagining getting married without her is so painful. 

I suppose if you're going to be a bad bride, Andy is a good groom to be marrying.  He's sweet and thoughtful and doesn't mind planning things for me.  I like him :). 

OK, well, I suppose instead of writing on this thing, I should be making important decisions on things like centerpieces.

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