blind insight

Precious.

It was bound to happen. He wore it a bit on the loose side, he took it off for climbing, cycling, and when it bothered his finger, and we'd never gotten around to finding a neck-cord for it. Steve's wedding ring, that is. His huge, gold, elvish-inscribed wedding ring, which he lost while inner-tubing in Boulder Creek on Saturday.

Steve was pretty devastated by the loss, so he hired a search-and-rescue diver to hunt for it last night. After four hours of combing the creek bed in the area in which Steve thought the ring had dropped, they called off the search.

While the ring was custom-designed and the Tengwar engraving was hand-done, it is replaceable. The local jeweler who made it assures me that he has all the information from my original order and can recreate the ring without much ado. Perhaps we will have a ceremony of sorts when the new ring arrives. Maybe I can even wear my wedding dress and get my hair done and hire a band and get a giant decadent cake and convince my girlfriends to dress up in matching outfits and . . . well, OK, maybe not. But we'll do something to make the moment memorable, even if it can't quite measure up to that magical day, just about 11 months ago.

And maybe, just maybe, years and years from now, a furry-footed Hobbit will pluck something shiny from the riverbed . . . .

What bwings us togevver today.*

Little to report on the CI front, although I have an appointment scheduled for Thursday morning. Today, in a meeting, my office manager observed that I am hearing "so much better." I wasn't sure how to take that. On the one hand, Yay! I'm hearing so much better! On the other, we were sitting near one another, in an office, with one other person, and I don't recall having trouble hearing in that type of setting pre-surgery. So, grain of salt, and all that.

So, am I hearing so much better? Yeah, I think so. I'm definitely hearing things like announcements, the television, and quiet conversation better. I think I'm hearing better in loud situations, too, as long as I adjust my sensitivity setting. And, now that I think about it, I was able to hear 90% of the (UNBELIEVABLY LONG) ceremony at the wedding we attended on Saturday, despite being outside, with the wind blowing, and having a seat all the way in the back. That's pretty damn good!

Speaking of the wedding, this was the first one Steve and I have attended since ours. We had a great time - it was a casual event in a beautiful mountain park, full of games and beer and happiness for a truly wonderful couple. And we both felt like it was "more meaningful," or something, with our own wedding still relatively fresh in our minds. During the ceremony, Steve was standing near the front, taking pictures. But mid-way through (mid-way being about 40 minutes in - did I mention that it was loooooong?), he came back to where I was sitting and held my hand for the rest of it. We both got a little teary when the couple said their vows (at least the first time, and even a bit the second. By the third round of vows, we were just hungry). Awwww......

*Also, among the songs the couple used during the processional was the theme from The Princess Bride, one of my all-time favorite movies.

A woman of my word.

I promised you photos once five readers answered my plea. I've received at least five suggested post topics, so here they are. We spent our first eight days in Sardinia, which is about as close to heaven as two rock-climbing, beach-happy, wine-loving, honeymooners can get. The island is considerably less developed (and somewhat less expensive) than mainland Italy, full of tiny towns surrounded by cliffs and mountains that drop precipitously down into the crystal clear Mediterranean waters.

Except for an unfortunate evening at an ill-chosen pizza joint called "Snoopy" (which should have been enough to steer us elsewhere), we dined daily on wonderful seafood, pasta, cheese, and flatbread. The wine was inexpensive and delicious, and we drank copious quantities of it.

We spent five nights in the charming little harbor town of Santa Maria Navarrese, then realized that the best climbing was on the other side of the Silana Pass and the Su Gorroppu Gorge at Cala Gonone. So we decamped and found alternative lodgings there (as it turned out, our new digs were cheaper, nicer, and right by the water).

We ended up having only about 4 days of climbing (United misrouted Steve's backpack with everything but the rope, so we were gearless for our first few days), just enough to give us a taste of all Sardinia has to offer. We weren't sure how much of the climbing would be accessible to us, and so we were ecstatic to find thousands of vertical feet of moderate, well-bolted routes. As hiking has gotten progressively more challenging for me (due to my vision, not my conditioning), I've gotten frustrated by the long and arduous approaches necessary to reach many Colorado climbing spots. In Sardinia? Not so much. There, our longest approach was perhaps a ten minute scramble, and many of the routes were just a few steps away from the beach. It just doesn't get much better than being able to take a cool dip in the sea after a full day of climbing under the hot Sardinian sun. Needless to say, we're already contemplating a first-anniversary return trip.

When we weren't on the rocks, we were on the beach or in the water. Our first full day, we took an excursion boat with several other people to a series of secluded, boat-accessible-only beaches. Later in the trip, we rented a little motorized rubber-dinghy and cruised up and down the coastline between Cala Gonone and Cala Goloritze, stopping several times to drop anchor and dive into the water for a swim. Even with just my swim goggles, we could see spectacular sea life below us. Next time, we're bringing snorkeling gear!

Supposedly, Sardinia also has fascinating archaeological sites, considerable "agrotourism" opportunities, and wonderful old towns and cities to explore. We managed to miss all of this - one more reason to return!

Here are the photos. Next up (perhaps once I get five more post requests): Cinque Terre!

Letting the pictures do the blogging. (NOW UPDATED with no sign-in required)

So, the wedding? It was incredible. Throughout the weekend, I was filled with joy and emotion as our families and friends came together to shower us with love and support.

I have written a lengthy, ridiculously detailed recap of the weekend, which is too personal, I think, to share here. But in writing it, I was able to remember vividly all the big and small moments that moved and delighted me. You don't really need to read my account, though, because these photos* are worth at least the 10,310 words my word-processing program tells me I spilled on it.

As I look through the photographs, what strikes me most is how in picture after picture, the people I see talking and laughing and dancing together barely knew each other, if at all, before the wedding. More than anything else, that shows me the success of our planning efforts, and it reflects the extraordinary spirit that permeated every moment of the wedding weekend.

*This album consists of assorted pictures from friends and family, and I'm adding to it as people pass on their shots. Someday, we'll have our professional photos, including a website. I promise to share.

Hitched, honeymooned, and home!

As soon as I catch up on sleep, exercise, e-mail, and life, I shall finish and post the endlessly long blow-by-blow of the amazing weekend that culminated in Steve's and my incredible, magical, glorious wedding (and, we certainly hope, in our incredible, magical, glorious marriage). It was far and away the most fun I've ever had at a wedding, and I'd like to think that at least some of our happy co-revelers felt the same.

We returned today from three weeks of honeymoon heaven.  We climbed, beached, boated, ate, and drank in Sardinia; hiked, swapped travel tales, ate, and drank in Cinque Terre; wandered, toured, ate, and drank in Siena, San Gimignano, Volterra, and Pisa; cycled, wine-tasted, ate, and drank in the Tuscan countryside; and tubed, strolled, tea'ed, ate, and drank in London. Needless to say, along with 600 or so photos (which we'll share once we've edited them just a bit to eliminate the digital-camera-newbie redundancy and provide them with snazzy captions and commentary), we returned with rather a lot of Europe on our hips.

Not to leave you totally hanging, I offer you a taste of the wedding fun . . .

And just one wee snap from Sardinia:

More to follow!

Apparently, the only way I could go 143 days without a wedding-related post was to give up blogging entirely.

A year ago today, I woke up next to my fiancé for the first time. A week from today, I’ll wake up for the first time next to my husband.

I dropped the blogging ball an internet eon ago. At the time, the wedding was finally taking shape, with details galore still to be filled in. Since then, most of those details have either fallen into place or fallen by the wayside. All that’s left, really, is for these many months of planning to magically turn into an actual wedding.

It has been a mostly wonderful period. My amazing and wonderful girlfriends have made me feel incredibly loved and supported, throwing me a crazy-fun bachelorette weekend in the mountains, showering me with gifts and laughter, and being there for me every step of the way. The same holds true for Steve’s family, and for my mother’s friends, who have all helped me feel like a Bride, with a capital "B" (and no suffix-ed "zilla").

Somehow, I found my way through a thicket of anxieties, mostly related to my own appearance-related insecurities. I’ve given in to my inner girly girl and grown out my hair, evened my perpetual tan lines, and agreed to wear a veil (oh, how I love my veil!).

I survived an early dress crisis, which we resolved beyond all expectations with the discovery of a wonderful, talented, patient, and visionary dressmaker. After a few massive sobbing fits - truly, my lowest point during the entire wedding-planning process (which, when I think about it, is pathetic) - I am madly in love with my gown. It was originally my mother’s, but has been remade significantly to suit my style. During the aforementioned crisis, when I stood on the brink of a no-turning-back decision about whether to go forward and try to work with my mom's dress or buy a brand new gown, I realized something important. There are hundreds and hundreds of wedding gowns out there, quite a few of which would probably look just fine on me. But only one of them was worn by my mother on the day she began her incredible 39-years-and-counting marriage to my dad. My one great sadness, alas is that my beloved grandmother won’t be there to see me wearing it, too.

Speaking of my mother, she has devoted countless hours to making this wedding happen, saving me endless stress and probably my job in the bargain. Her creative talent (the handmade invitations put anything on the market to shame), organizational skills (at T-minus-six, just about everything is DONE), negotiating acumen (we're coming in somewhere in the general vicinity of the budget), and boundless energy have produced what is sure to be a glorious and memorable event. The fact that we have made it through a full year of planning with only one or two screaming matches is truly astounding.

Most important of all, Steve and I have grown ever closer and stronger, and are heading into marriage filled with a sense of excitement, adventure, and shared purpose. We celebrated our "proposaversary" yesterday by competing in a sprint triathlon. It was Steve’s first (he kicked ass!), and it left me feeling confident that our life together will continue to be filled with new challenges and a commitment to living as fully and actively as we can. I absolutely can’t wait to marry this man.

The wedding adventure begins Thursday, as the first of our nearly 100 out-of-town guests begin to arrive. By Sunday night, when we walk down the aisle, my hope is that our many friends and relatives will have come together as a group, buoying us on their collective enthusiasm and good will. At the very least, I hope we remember the steps to our snazzy first dance.

No matter what, though, at the end of the evening, we’ll be married. And in the grand scheme of things, that's all that matters.

What else am I supposed to write about?

One hundred and forty-nine days remain before the wedding (but who's counting?). If you’re already tired of reading about it, you should remove my blog from your RSS-feed subscription and back away slowly from your computer. There’s nothing for you here.

As much as I have tried not to be the kind of woman who spends all her time obsessing over her wedding plans, I'm finding it hard to avoid. I’m not particularly stressed about wedding planning, nor am I worried about whether or not every little thing will be absolutely perfect for My Special Day. But I do think about the wedding, or some aspect of it, constantly.

When talking to friends, I try not to bring up wedding stuff unless someone asks me about it. But they nearly always do, so then I have to give myself a mental pinch in the arm so as not to ramble on incessantly about favors and showers and dress fittings and shoes (Did I tell you that I just received my third pair of potential wedding shoes, but haven't found The Ones? Now what were we talking about?). Earlier this week, I managed almost an entire wedding-free lunch conversation with my fabuliscious best friend, but slipped at the last minute and brought up guest-list issues as we were walking back to the office. I’m not sure what was worse about that: the fact that I couldn’t make it through lunch without mentioning the wedding, or the fact that I was acutely aware through the entire meal that I hadn’t mentioned the wedding.

There’s really nothing wrong about focusing on the wedding. It’s a pretty important event in my life, hopefully the only one of its kind. It’s also a great big party, and planning a great big party takes a lot of time and effort and thought. Add to that our culture’s bizarre adoration of The Bride, which leads many of those around me to presume that my wedding is the only thing I have to talk about right now, and it’s no wonder I think about it about as often as the average 15-year-old boy thinks about sex.

Still, I feel awkward about it, even apologetic. As though I am betraying my independent, successful, educated, feminist self by really, really caring a lot about whether my shoes are ivory or gold (or blue, but I’m letting my mother win that particular battle). Truth be told, I don’t care that much about the shoes. But I cannot be wed barefoot, because my dress is long and I’m not about to let the beautiful lace hem of my heirloom silk gown drag in the grass. So the shoe decision must be made, and the array of available options makes it a preoccupying matter. Likewise with decisions such as ceremony readings, attendant gifts, menu selections, and so forth. Whether the ultimate selection is absolutely perfect and deeply memorable or not, something must be chosen. I am an obsessive planner, a compulsive researcher, and a manic overanalyzer when I’m not putting together a wedding; I shouldn’t really be surprised that these traits are manifesting themselves now.

There are other things rolling around in my head, other preoccupations in my life. I’ve thought about blogging them, too. Springtime, good Supreme Court decisions, the criminal (in)justice system, Iranian political history, fundamentalist pharmacists, how Sideways rocks (but makes me thirsty), and why Abe Foxman's security detail thinks I'm a stalker. But I can’t seem to pull them together coherently, because of all the wedding nonsense colonizing my brainspace.

Remind me, though, I really want to tell you about an epiphany I had the other day. I promise, it has absolutely nothing to do with the wedding.

Blah blah wedding blah blah blah.

Wow. Thank you all for your kind, generous, and very very welcome comments. You've motivated me to continue tapping away in this space when time and energy permit. I'll try not to disappoint.

Somehow, this weekend, a coterie of evil little sprites kidnapped my brain and replaced it with Bride'sHead, revisited. Though I did take my first skate-skiing lesson (I think I am hooked on this wonderful, wonderful, but SO FREAKING EXHAUSTING new sport), it seems that virtually the entire rest of the weekend was sucked into a tulle-lined void of wedding madness. Proof that my brain has been swapped with that of a girlier girl was evidenced by a recent obsession with (the most fabulous) centerpieces (of all time), multiple shopping expeditions including a trip to an actual MALL on a gorgeous Sunday, and the headful of perfectly shelacked hair I wore to a fundraiser on Saturday night.

Monday brought my feet a bit closer to the ground. I have a few interesting new cases, which together with a spate of laudable recent Supreme Court decisions (no more executions of 16- and 17-year-olds!), leave no time for bridal excesses in my workaday world.

We have a winner!

What is it with New Zealand? Surely, it must be spectaculiscious, or your comments wouldn't be running 5-to-1 (or something) in its favor. And you would think that my LOTR-geek sweetie would be all over the chance to tour Middle Earth. But, no. The Kiwi rock climbing is, well, not so much, and as best we've gathered, so is the food.

For a time, South Africa held its own as our top contender, until rumors of chilly waters and Great White Sharks unseated it. Burma (or Myanmar, as you may prefer) received considerable attention, and I hope we will someday travel there together because the itinerary my favorite Asia tour operator compiled had me salivating. We flirted with Paris and the Dordogne, Hawaii, and Cayman Braque, but none of these survived the preliminary rounds.

Instead, after much research, discussion, fantasizing, wheedling (on my part), and hands-throwing-in-air (on Steve's), we're going (drumroll, please) . . . .

Here. And then here. And probably here, too.

The hounds of obsessive travel planning have been released. Italy, you've been warned.

Help!

Darling Internet, I need your help. You see, back when Steve and I first became engaged and launched into the delightful planning of Our Special Daaaaaaaaaaaaaay, one of the first things we did was decide where to honeymoon. Priorities squarely in order, no? But now I realize that I was not being entirely honest with myself when I agreed (readily, and with much alacrity, I must admit) to embark upon wedded bliss by spending a few weeks climbing, beaching, exploring, and eating our way through Thailand.

Not that there's anything wrong with Thailand. To the contrary, I adore Thailand. I spent several wonderful weeks traveling there a few years ago, and greatly enjoyed my subsequent stops in Bangkok en route to other places. I have also visited - and loved - Vietnam, and more recently spent 4 amazing days in Cambodia wandering through Angkor Wat and related ruins (following a trip to Bhutan, where you should all go NOW). From personal experience, I know that Southeast Asia offers incredible food, friendly, welcoming people with a rich and vibrant culture, countless opportunities for adventure, and the prospect of relatively upscale honeymooning on a relatively downscale budget. Perfect, right?

But I've beeeeeeen there. And with other people (twice with friends, once with a significant other). Now that I'm being honest with myself, I realize that I really, really want our first voyage as a married couple to be to a place neither of us has visited in the past (Steve's passport figures little into this equation, last month's Costa Rica trip having supplied its first stamp). More selfishly, I want to go someplace NEW, particularly because my list of must-go places isn't getting any shorter.

Here's where you come in. Given approximately three weeks to travel (either the last three weeks of September or the three weeks between roughly 10/29 and 11/19), a moderate but somewhat flexible budget, and an adventurous spirit, where would you honeymoon? Rather, with those givens, where should we honeymoon?  In providing your recommendation, please keep in mind the following criteria we have articulated for our honeymoon experience:

1) We must spend at least part of the trip in proximity to an ocean warm enough for swimming.

2) Ideally, we want to spend part of the trip rock climbing.

3) We prefer to stay in small towns and villages rather than in big cities.

4) Great food, at reasonable prices, is essential.

5) We'd like to have at our disposal a mix of active fun (sea kayaking, hiking, cycling, e.g.) and relaxation (beaches, mountainy retreats).

6) We'd like at least some exposure to a "very" foreign culture.

Where shall we go? When? And what shall we do there?

I'm counting on you . . . .