I came home from work yesterday to find out that my sisters and mothers had gone through a preliminary guest list for me. It wasn't on paper, but everytime I mentioned someone, one of them said, "Yep, we thought of them."
Chris and I haven't discussed it but I am pretty sure that our wedding will be smaller than larger. This gets tricky with so many cousins on my end but after a preliminary count, my side will be 80 people. The breakdown is about 30 relatives, 12 friends of the family, and 30+ friends.
The only person from my dad's side of the family will be his sister and whoever drives her to the wedding. The only person from my maternal grandfather's side of the family will be my cousin Goyo, whom I lived with for a month in Guadalajara in 2008. The rest are my aunts, their kids and spouses, my maternal grandmother's brother and his guest/my cousin, and my cousin Diane's family. I hope my dad isn't offended by the lack of representation of his side of the family but he knows I'm closer to my mom's side.
Thinking of friends to invite was pretty clear. There are my go-to gal pals, a couple of junior high and high school friends, a few former co-workers, anyone whose wedding I've been in or attended in the last five years, and basically, the people I call and talk to most. As I've gotten older I've realized that there are fewer people I call with my problems or good news. Basically, if I wouldn't call them when I'm down they're not on the list.
I told the last of my co-workers about my engagement today. Everyone was very nice about it. My superviser got married not too long ago and was especially happy to share her wedding know-how. The reporter that sits next to me, Jay, even asked to see my ring. He said, "So sparkley!" My ring is actually too big for my finger and falls to the side all the time. Must get to that and also promise myself to get it cleaned every six months so that my lifetime warrantly will be valid.
I've never owned any fine jewelry. I would have never worn something this nice in Argentina or Mexico. Call me paranoid but I don't want to give anyone a reason to rob me. Women wear bling all the time. It needs some getting used to. I stare at the ring a lot. My first diamond! What a man. What good taste. I love him.
Other good news... I spoke with my boss yesterday and he said I was being considered for a permanent position. It might happen but he wasn't guaranteeing anything. The worst thing is that the position will most likely require a Friday night, Saturday night and Sunday. Yikes. That sounds awful. I won't poo-poo it until a) I am offered the job, b) I see the salary, and c) I can commit to a crazy schedule. We'll see. The good news is that they like me enough to consider me for full-time work. I wasn't sure that was the case and now have to put my best foot forward in January for the new owners of the paper. I can also keep looking for positions elsewhere. Yay to 2010! Ass-kicking time.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Engaging daily
I might have taken "Julie & Julia" too seriously because I'm going to blog about my engagement and wedding with the hopes someone turns it into a book. Yes, I'm engaged. Chris proposed to me on Christmas Eve in front of my whole family. It was ballsy and brave and sweet and wonderful. I said yes and it's on.
Sooooo, in the hopes of getting a book deal that will secure my future, I'm going to write about the wedding. It's the only thing people want to talk to me about anyway so why not? Seriously, it's as if life before the engagement ceased to exist and now I'm in weddinglandia. I've been advised to enjoy it and will my best to.
I had actually hoped that Chris would propose during the holidays. He did and now I look like the good guy, not the person who was going to pressure him about it in the new year.
So many thoughts have gone through my head these past days. The fact that my sleeping around days are over. That I've picked a partner who will make a great dad. That I love Chris' politeness and dorkiness and thoughtfulness. That I never thought I'd end up with someone like him: He's a straight arrow for the most part. He didn't sleep around. He hasn't taken drugs. He's not a stoner.
The fact that I'm taking the plunge in my late '30s is also a game changer. I'm not a giddy bride-to-be, giggling and telling everyone I can think of about the news. I've been spreading the news slowing, making sure I actually speak to my friends/family to tell them, not leave a message or send a text. I had been trying to tell a friend about the engagement for days but every time I called her, she returned the call with a text message. Then she asked me why it took me so long to tell her. Uh, it wouldn't have if she had actually picked up the phone to call.
Neither my mother nor Chris' mother was excited about the news. My mother was not smiling when the rest of the family was going wild during the proposal. Was it shock? Disapproval? Same with Chris' mom. He announced the news right after we had taken our seats for Christmas dinner. It was Chris, his sister, his mother, and his mother's roommate and no one got out of their seats after hearing the news. No one got up to hug me. It was like, "That's great. Can you pass the butter?" Later in car Chris said his mother was happy, she just didn't show it. I can't complain, my mother was the same way.
Our fathers were much more vocal about their excitement/approval. My dad was happy and congratulatory. His father and stepmother had him call me as soon as they heard. That was nice. They were excited and offered to assist us in wedding planning in any way possible.
Sooooo, in the hopes of getting a book deal that will secure my future, I'm going to write about the wedding. It's the only thing people want to talk to me about anyway so why not? Seriously, it's as if life before the engagement ceased to exist and now I'm in weddinglandia. I've been advised to enjoy it and will my best to.
I had actually hoped that Chris would propose during the holidays. He did and now I look like the good guy, not the person who was going to pressure him about it in the new year.
So many thoughts have gone through my head these past days. The fact that my sleeping around days are over. That I've picked a partner who will make a great dad. That I love Chris' politeness and dorkiness and thoughtfulness. That I never thought I'd end up with someone like him: He's a straight arrow for the most part. He didn't sleep around. He hasn't taken drugs. He's not a stoner.
The fact that I'm taking the plunge in my late '30s is also a game changer. I'm not a giddy bride-to-be, giggling and telling everyone I can think of about the news. I've been spreading the news slowing, making sure I actually speak to my friends/family to tell them, not leave a message or send a text. I had been trying to tell a friend about the engagement for days but every time I called her, she returned the call with a text message. Then she asked me why it took me so long to tell her. Uh, it wouldn't have if she had actually picked up the phone to call.
Neither my mother nor Chris' mother was excited about the news. My mother was not smiling when the rest of the family was going wild during the proposal. Was it shock? Disapproval? Same with Chris' mom. He announced the news right after we had taken our seats for Christmas dinner. It was Chris, his sister, his mother, and his mother's roommate and no one got out of their seats after hearing the news. No one got up to hug me. It was like, "That's great. Can you pass the butter?" Later in car Chris said his mother was happy, she just didn't show it. I can't complain, my mother was the same way.
Our fathers were much more vocal about their excitement/approval. My dad was happy and congratulatory. His father and stepmother had him call me as soon as they heard. That was nice. They were excited and offered to assist us in wedding planning in any way possible.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
What do you do when you're good at nothing?
Ah, I was so spirited in my last post. I'm still excited about Poptimist, which should be on streets now, but I am not excited about the job I did on the December issue.
I gave it my all: editing stories, giving feedback, getting stories rewritten. I even wrote up a band myself -- San Diego's Tape Deck Mountain. (This was less of an exercise in writing than it was a way of making my budget. I decided I could up writer's rate if I wrote a 200-word article and two album reviews myself.)
I devoted nights after work, my Fridays off, and weekends to the project once all the stories were turned in. I read and reread the copy, changing punctuation here, checking spelling there.
Last Sunday I sat with the publisher for four hours as we made last-minute changes. The artist she had contracted wasn't working out so there was a lot of last-minute scrambling. She sent the final version to me an hour before it went to the printer. All the last-minute changes produced some errors, which I was quite proud of catching on my final read-through.
This all went to pot on Sunday. I had been out from morning to evening throwing a friend's baby shower and was horrified to see this email from our publisher awaiting me at home: "the concert listings all say 'November.' "
What?!!! Where?!!!
I scrambled to the print-outs I had gone through for the issue. The error wasn't on our club picks pages, it wasn't on our live picks pages, whew. Oh, but there it was, on the club listings pages. Clear as day it said "November" on the top of the page instead of December. It said "November" four different times.
I had poured over these listings many times. I changed dates, spellings, punctuation but apparently never looked up at the header. Oy!
This drops our publication from awesome to amateur and it's my fault. The buck stops here. I am paid to catch these kinds of errors. I take pride in catching these types of errors.
So for the last couple of days I have been blue. I am earning a living right now as a copyeditor yet I didn't catch what is now an obvious mistake. So if I'm not a good copyeditor or a good writer, what exactly am I good at? How can I sell myself as either when this keeps haunting me?
I dread seeing the magazine now.
I gave it my all: editing stories, giving feedback, getting stories rewritten. I even wrote up a band myself -- San Diego's Tape Deck Mountain. (This was less of an exercise in writing than it was a way of making my budget. I decided I could up writer's rate if I wrote a 200-word article and two album reviews myself.)
I devoted nights after work, my Fridays off, and weekends to the project once all the stories were turned in. I read and reread the copy, changing punctuation here, checking spelling there.
Last Sunday I sat with the publisher for four hours as we made last-minute changes. The artist she had contracted wasn't working out so there was a lot of last-minute scrambling. She sent the final version to me an hour before it went to the printer. All the last-minute changes produced some errors, which I was quite proud of catching on my final read-through.
This all went to pot on Sunday. I had been out from morning to evening throwing a friend's baby shower and was horrified to see this email from our publisher awaiting me at home: "the concert listings all say 'November.' "
What?!!! Where?!!!
I scrambled to the print-outs I had gone through for the issue. The error wasn't on our club picks pages, it wasn't on our live picks pages, whew. Oh, but there it was, on the club listings pages. Clear as day it said "November" on the top of the page instead of December. It said "November" four different times.
I had poured over these listings many times. I changed dates, spellings, punctuation but apparently never looked up at the header. Oy!
This drops our publication from awesome to amateur and it's my fault. The buck stops here. I am paid to catch these kinds of errors. I take pride in catching these types of errors.
So for the last couple of days I have been blue. I am earning a living right now as a copyeditor yet I didn't catch what is now an obvious mistake. So if I'm not a good copyeditor or a good writer, what exactly am I good at? How can I sell myself as either when this keeps haunting me?
I dread seeing the magazine now.
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