Zora Travels

Not-such intellectual pursuits

Barely making it onto the blogosphere today with a few hours to spare.  Various domestic projects and crafting adventures kept my mind occupied and hands busy today.  Finally, after over a year, the wedding photo album is starting to come together.  It took my mom showing up full of vigorous and perky energy to force me to deal with the 350+ photos that I had printed last week.  Up until last week, our lovely day was held in a gorgeous shining cd from the photographer...easily mounted on the wall for all to admire.  Today was about mounting, gluing, cutting borders, rounding corners, etc.  All the scrapbooking whimsy that takes a few hours to settle into and obtain some sort of rhythm before the first few pages squeeze out of the pipeline. 

I wish I could say there was even a small part of my brain that craves intellectual pursuits.  A fine piece of literature.  Listening to classical music.  Writing a finely-honed story.  Alas, it is more the busy-bee activities that whittle at my time.  Happily, I stay in the moment with various lists of the simple.  Going to Trader Joe's these days with less than five items on the list.  Tackling Target with only two things on the list.  Minutiae after a yoga or swimming class...and then great lengths of time with my swollen sausagesque-feet up in the air.  Marinating in the hours of leisure and swirling thoughts and thumping belly.

I am fortunate beyond words to have this time...with Daniel, my family and friends, this baby still nestled inside...basking in a beautiful waiting game.  We are ready.  And I would gladly accept several more weeks of this anticipation.  Pregnancy has been kind to me.

Noa's Artistic PHOTOS!!!

of course...the LAST email I checked before leaving for the airport.....was the lovely Noa of Feather Love Photography.

Our vintage perfect photos are up on her blog...with many more to come in the future.

Her artistry was brilliant, her presence - unnoticeable, her photos - AMAZING!

Enjoy them by clicking here.

We're off to LAX.....

Wonderous Weekend

To set the mood - BEFORE reading this post, please listen to this in the background.

 

Daniel sits across from me now.  His freshly-shaven chin leans into his hand (wedding ring visible).  Soca music spills from his laptop and competes with Garth Trinidad's radio show.  Every few minutes he reads more reviews and suggestions for our trip to St. Lucia that begins tonight.  Turns out that we are visiting during Carnival.  Imagine our luck....the streets erupt with elaborate costume parades, steel drum competitions, and soca dance parties.  Near our resort giant leatherback turtles sun themselves on the sand...snorkeling in crystal clear water beckons...and cocktails, adorned with umbrellas and fruit slices, will flow freely from the bar....and back in our ocean-view villa our very own "private plunge pool" awaits.

I can't wait for our honeymoon....I'm abuzz with excitement.  My dad will enjoy our home while we enjoy the sun in the Caribbean waters.  Neither of us have ever been to this nook of the planet.  And although we're staying in a fancy hotel, you can't take the "hosteling/mosquito-net-carrying" mindset out of us...we have packed tupperware to scoop up "inclusive meals" and jaunt off on the bus into various little towns.  Towns that offer fish-frys from old men on the beach, dancing circles that erupt near local bars, Rasta food, and sand bars that allow for hours of simple sitting.

But before our feet trapse in the waters at Jalousie, I wanted to share just a few of my favorite photographs from the weekend....with a wee bit of storytelling.  The professional photographs from the artistic Noa should be available in 5 more weeks.  We can't wait to share them.


Courtney flew down with her son (and my Godson) Jonah for the nuptial festivities.  Here we are at the rehearsal dinner.  I forced myself to sit apart from her because we often get consumed in our own side-story, gossip, and inside-jokes (a growing repertoire since we were 9 years old)...but we often raised our beers toward each other, winked, and shared knowing glances.  For her to stand as my matron-of-honor, holding my hands in the bridal salon, spraying my shaking legs with cooling mist (thanks, Claire), and delivering the only speech of the night that made me cry....was an amazing gift.

Of course, the time with my nephew Sam has been incredible.  If only they lived down the street.  If only I always knew the pajamas that fit him, the book he loved most, the way he likes his fruit sliced, the songs he most enjoys...these little details I capture and relish in his presence...with heartbreak that they will soon change and I'll be once again just the  "Auntie Zora on the phone."

But this weekend, I knew the story.  "Dumbo" on page 233 of his Disney book.  Kathy, my other fabulous bridesmaid, holds a reluctant Becca.

And well, I know she's my niece, but seriously....is there ANY cuter than Becca-Bean-Bear?  I could hold her, sniff her neck, wipe her wispy hair from her face, watch her squish raspberries, blow bubbles with her lips, and dazzle me with her four-tooth grin all day.  I want to stop time when I look at her.

And this young man.  My, what a long journey it's been.  On the day he entered the world, I was anxiously awaiting his arrival along with Courtney's other family members.  We twiddled our thumbs, shot nervous smiles, and felt the sheer anticipation of this amazing boy.

His kind heart, outdoorsy spirit, and wild curls were a pure joy this weekend.  He listened to more topics (including me discussing bikini waxing, manny/peddys, bridal panic, and magic spandex underwear) than most young men his age should every have to.  He rode in the backseat of my car as we approached the wedding site...patient as I replayed my song for the day.

The rehearsal dinner was this golden evening when our two families, two sets of friends, gathered for a casual evening.  Lumpia and pancit were served while Bea (Daniel's Goddaughter & our flower girl) danced with Becca in the hallway.

And if only my immense gratitude for my mother could be captured in words.  Whether it be the ribbons dancing from flower balls, the bouquets and boutonnieres, the moss covered rocks, the shining vases filled with roses for Lola, the placecards swirled with calligraphy, the fountain bursting with succulents, the hosting of the rehearsal dinner, or the tugging of my magic underwear right before I walked down the aisle...she was my hero.  She is my treasured mother.

And she can sing, too.  Thanks to Ding & Daisy who brought their karaoke machine! (and to Daniela & Alyce for setting up the decorations!)

 

Days after the formal evenings...it was beach time!  Hours of sun-bathing, sandcastle building, and wave jumping took place.

 

Jonah also made an incredible friend in Eduard.  Another young man whose zest for life matches his own.

 

 

Sam is a blur in the midst of the men.  Shane, Daniel, John, and Steve all enjoyed watching him spin around the back yard.

 

We took a brief departure from our visiting family & friends and enjoyed a night at Crystal Cove.  Here is our first "vacation hand" picture.  Notice the rings!  It still makes me giddy to see it on his finger!

 

And with our wedding date inscribed in the sand, we bid adieu to the beach...at least for a few days...until we welcome the crashing waves once again on an island.

Happily Married!

What a fabulous wedding night we had!  In one candle lit room...with a fountain gurgling, glasses clinking, and music playing...were gathered almost all of those we both so dearly love.  Standing and dancing together, tossing an abundance of joy and smiles and congratulations our way.  We had so much fun! 

I had entered the evening trying hard to be present...in the moment.  Standing around the corner from the guests, waiting for my musical cue to walk...I kept telling myself to feel the intensity, to experience the anticipation of holding Daniel's hands, to meet his gaze for the first time down the aisle with the intention of truly listening to the words of the ceremony we had scripted.  And indeed the hours passed slowly, luxuriously soaking up the hugs, kisses, and merriment of those in attendance, giving a silent thought for those who were with us only in spirit...and most of all, squeezing my husband's hand...and kissing whenever the guests tapped their glasses.

The music played and we danced for hours.  The decorations, inspired by my vision, given life by my mother, and arranged by Daniela & Alyce, were simple and classy.  Food was forgotten, drinks (rum & diet coke) were in abundance....but I held it together with grace until the very end.  After all beloved grandparents, aunts, uncles, and children had left for home...I tipsily crawled into the car with my step-dad, John, at the wheel, Courtney & Kenny in the backseat with me...and my HUSBAND in the passenger seat.  I recall rambling on about the fun, the dancing, the music, and the happiness.

And at 6:00am, after walking home several blocks from the "post-reception" party with Daniel's friends, we climbed into bed as a married couple and relished our first snuggle.  I spun his wedding ring around and around....felt the intricate swirls and stones of my own...and fell asleep with sun shining through the curtains and a smile lingering on my lips.




(Our first dance)

Wedding Bells!

I'm getting married to Daniel today.  Last night, our families sat in my mom's back yard, Filipino food piled on plates, Mexican beers and Cuban cake scattered about, karaoke ballads belting from the living room.  I was aglow with excitement, a wee bit of nerves, and just glorious joy at the merriment, satisfaction, and fortune in my life.

I am marrying a man who choreographed my dad and me on our "father/daughter" dance moves.  My dad's song choice.....tear, tear.

 

 

 

And when we couldn't quite get the hang of it....he stepped in himself.

And my best friend since I was 9 years old is also here to be my matron of honor.

 

 

And Kathy, my dear friend and brother's wife, is also here to be a bridesmaid! We got our manny/peddys yesterday.

 

 

Two maids I love, Claire & Fadime, are celebrating from Chicago and Germany.....and I'll miss them holding my hands and toasting me with champagne....but they'll get flooded with pictures soon.  My mom and step-dad and aunts have been angels.  Daniel's family, despite hearts still carrying grief, are all here with smiles and happiness on their faces.

And it is this man who just kissed me on his way out the door....who is going to become my husband the next time I see him....after I walk down the aisle to this song.

 

 

**Want a sneak peek at the vows I have written?**

"I promise to stand next to you on this day and all the days of my life. 

 

Together we will dream,

we will stumble but restore each other;

we will share all things, serving each other and our fellow humanity."

 

 

 

 

The Greeks

White clouds puffed and blue skies hovered above Downey today as Daniel & I attended the Greek Festival with my aunt.  My breath stilled as I entered the church.  Saints moved their eyes, intricately carved blond wood surrounded paper flowers, and vibrant colors splashed against pristine white walls.  The deacon explained the iconology behind some of the paintings and Mary's luminous blood red arms reached down from the heavens.  Lambs crackled and rotated on spits, coin-stitched scarves jangled past, and folk music blared from the stage as young and old clasped shoulders in a line dance.  The sun found my pale flesh inviting and soon painted warmth and pink across my back.  Styrofoam containers overflowing with lamb, feta chunks, tomatoes and dolmas coated the table.

And in the midst of our merry feast, three copies of our ceremony overview were dotted with olive oil, tzatziki, and scrawled notes.  We had come to the festival with our wedding officiant (my Aunt Pat) to plan the heart of the matter...to give thought to the thirty minutes that nestle into a musical sandwich and will solidify our union in marriage.  These are some of the most poignant and serious words that we'll ever write.  They are passages, vows, and promises that I'll make before family and friends...looking into D's giant cocoa eyes.  I hope I can speak.  I hope the tears don't fall so quickly that I can't muster up a voice. 

We also celebrated Mr. D's birthday a wee bit early with the largest margarita ever and scrumptious shredded wheat honey mounds (from the Greeks) and flaky cheese pastries (from the Cubans).  The evening rounded out with Mara's vegetarian feast, Beatle's ballads sung to accompany Alexis' wicked guitar, a cute cheribum baby kissed and cuddled, Cherry Garcia ice-cream, and the typing of this here post.

A bit of magic

My tongue swirls the remnants of frozen cherries and thick Greek yogurt in my mouth.  My slight brain freeze thaws as the wild parrots squawk in the trees outside our front yard.  The office chair occasionally creeks under Daniel's shifting.  He's preparing for a gigantic job interview tomorrow....Druck die Daumen (that's German for "cross your fingers").  I finished my own 4th interview for my teaching position next year....you know, that position that had already been offered.  But the consultant said "colors were flying high" and although that sounds like a mixed metaphor, I relished the comment and drove off to the mall.

Retail therapy (and it's ugly step-sister, "return therapy") have been my playmates of late.  A little less of the "quesadilla-cheese-sugary-sweets" and more of the "tiny boutique-Banana-Gap-Macy's."  I flirt, I swipe, I sign, I wince, I return, I blush, I leave.  Repeat cycle.  This is my merry tune.  And the melody has yielded a bounty of garments, although few with tags removed.  Today, it's a smashing black dress.  Yesterday, it was magic-fat-sucking pants.

Let's talk about these magic pants for a moment.  You know those amber-hued photographs of a bride's foot up on a boudoir chair, her fingers gracefully smoothing a stalking up her thigh, pinning them to jeweled clamps, a boned bustier cupping delicate mounds of flesh, her graceful visage glowing with sensuality and confidence.  That wasn't me.

I entered the Nordstrom fitting room alone.  My mother was encouraged to look around outside....this was going to be a solo-adventure.  I eyed the daunting mountain of bra's - strapless, wireless, padded, halter, bustier, and clear strapped.  I eyed the "suckers" - Spanx, shapers, full-body, mid-section, mid-thigh, firm-support, medium-support.  I was in spandex hell.  But you can't wear regular skivvies on the "big day." It requires a miraculous garment (or two) that constrict, push, stretch, reduce, minimize, enhance, and flatter-- but only with shimmering cloth draping the outside.

Let's just say that I did NOT look like the byatch in this picture.  I was sweating, flushed, and struggling to pull on the tightest undergarments in my life.  I jumped madly and banged my limbs against the fitting room door -- much to the dismay of my attendant.

"Are you okay in there?" the nervous voice asked.

"No, lady, I feel like I'm stuffing a turkey into a condom" I mean..."Yes, I'm fine"

...bang, trip, tags fly off, tiny hangers fall to the floor.

So, to the few of you out there who will actually see me that day....and Courtney & Claire - you'll actually witness the magic underneath the beaded white shimmer...know that I can breath (just lightly) and that I can sit (just slowly).  I am wearing magic pants or "flattering body shapers."  And I both hate and truly envy anyone who wouldn't have to wear them.

But in the end...I left with a bag of magic and a wedding ring.  You'll have to wait to see it...but it's divine.

185 things to do

Some things are silly.  Last year, I quit my teaching job to travel in South America.  Since I never left, I stayed teaching (subbing, actually) at the same school all year.  In order to work in the same school system next year, they want me to fill out an online application, complete with letters of recommendation, transcripts, the whole works.  I have also gone for three interviews (guest teaching, English department, and administration).   They now want me to travel to downtown LA to visit the HR department in order to participate in yet another formal interview with "a consultant"...although I was already offered - and accepted - the job.

Umm?  Hello?  I love your school.  I never really left.  You said the position is mine. I still currently sub and also coach, observe, and critique all eight of your "first year" teachers....but you still need four interviews, a complete online application, and a visit to HR?  I'm still on YOUR COBRA insurance, for Christ's sake.  I still use your internal email system....the same one that you used to ask me for all the above materials.

uh....silly...silly, silly, silly....but the job -- I'll TAKE IT!

Besides that...all is well....you are about to experience my mind late at night....and the blather here will reveal why my blog has been so ignored.  I mean I can't possibly express each day how I am the ever-expanding bride.  I know, I know, "he loves me the way I am" but I don't love the lingering possibility that the dress won't fit...or the hovering shadow of what it is that makes me eat myself into twenty pounds in six months.  I mean, my dress is a rental...there is only so much forgiveness in those seams.

And what is up with DIY invitations?  Stab me in the eye with a rusty nail next time I even consider print-at-home anything.  The paper doesn't suck, when it sucks it gets stuck, the ink runs dry, the dimensions don't work, online directions don't seem right - so the happy couple endeavor for HOURS to drive around local LA freeways and exit various dodgy points in Long Beach to find the perfect way to describe the finding of our merry local's parking lot.  The future bride-to-be with her lime green swirled heart .42 stamps has to thumb down a Navajo necklace .02 addition....and the black landscape of the envelope now seems somehow tainted.  And tissue paper--- what the f__k is that for?  To bug me?

But then there's my mom.  Who sits with me today for hours and talks me through various acid peels, obscuring undergarments, vendor confirmations, seating arrangements, center pieces, placecards, flower girl accessories, ring bearer shoes, and banister decor.  We relax in her backyard that smells of coconut and chocolate mulch, lick popsicles and sip iced coffee.  She scurries off the porch ... plucks her gardenia leaves and the neighbor's orange leaves to check their viability for boutonnieres.  She's my hero today.

I am in love with Daniel.  I am no longer in love with wedding planning.  It draws a portion of most breaths into a vortex of white, black, lime, and rusty orange.  How did I ever develop a color scheme?  Why do I care so much about my hair that I not only ask a stranger to fix it...but today scheduled a "trial" appointment?  Is it that serious?  And no my "bride arms" aren't in the most amazing shape and no I haven't been "treating" my hair and skin to luxurious regimens.  I just shower, ignore my hang nails, and occasionally go to the gym.

And that woman long ago who imagined bare feet and spiked lemonade in mason jars and a few calla lilies in hand while an Ipod played played a Beatles tune...where is she?

"She" is slipping off the wedding shoes (shown here) after a day of breaking them in.  "She" is wondering what else can be accomplished tonight from the 185 items left unfinished according to The Knot's checklist.  (And why does the groom's section have only 5 things on it?)

I want to be more present in the moment, thinking of heart and mind-filled vows that will join me to Daniel forever in the tenderness and adventure of marriage.  I need to find yoga again, meditation, relish the steady comfort of employment and health insurance...and peace of mind in the day...gratitude for my health and the health of those I love...not constantly planning and vexing over the five hours of one day in July.

Oh, was it like this for you other brides out there in cyber-space?  My mind is tired.

But when I take a breath and let the air and my mind move freely, I think of other things...like the fact that instead of complaining about HR....I was offered a job!  9th grade English teacher...the BEST grade level for my cheesy personality...the September bliss of a paycheck and free insurance. 

Amazing things like Claire who awaits her beautiful baby to frolic under dancing monkeys.  Like Julie who received her referral of a little girl and her baby brother today from Ethiopia.  Like Cindy who is in Addis Ababa right now picking up her son Olly.  Like our friends who stay up late watching their brave child battling illness.  Like our grandparents who tell stories despite their pain.  Like my step-sister who got engaged yesterday.  Like my niece who turned one today.

And that's how I'll end.  Here's the little 1 year old applet last summer....on the day we met.  I love you, Bean!

Full circle

Sometimes I just need to ask for help.  And when I do.  I get it.  The list of "to do" items for the wedding continues to build.  Nothing is being added...it's just a matter of crunch time.  The calendar now whispers that flowers be ordered, grandparents be asked about their boutonniere/corsage wishes, rehearsal dinners thrown together...and the invitations. Eighty of these little suckers need to be printed and put together and mailed this week.  I saved us a few pennies by picking up invites at Michael's.  They are nice and simple...and a complete painin the arse.  The printer doesn't suck them up properly and some of you dear readers will soon have a chance to see the off-center, smeared, squirly invites next week.

But I got Mr. Daniel (aka Mr. Thesis) to spend some quality time hovering over the printer. And sometimes I just need his time.

If time is what I want....now I'm going to get it.  Here's the handsome graduate of CSU Fullerton.  A recipient of a Master's of Economics.  A writer of a 52 page "wind-energy-policy" thesis.  It was a beautiful work printed upon cotton sheets, signed with flowing ink from his panel members, invisible blood, sweat, and tears (of my ducts) watermarked the pages, if held up to the light.  The journey was long.  Months and months of his shiny head bent over the desk, fingers plugging at keys, eyes soaking in the luminous Excel screens and policy pdf's.  Quick dinners eaten with a distant and weary gaze.  Countless weekends and evenings spent alone...although sharing the same house.

But it's done!  He's graduated.  Graduate school is completed.  I am so proud and happy (for him and for us).

And now we're here...in Las Vegas.  Tying ribbons on the invitations.  Taking care of his Lola.  Soaking in the buttery warmth and comfort of his family's home.  His mind belongs once again to the world.  His eyes shine brighter, his sleep comes quicker, and his heart now widens to embrace the needs of his family. 

I've never taken part in the daily care of a grandparent.  Combing their hair, mashing their food, putting on their chapstick, lotioning their feet.  This family cares as much for their older members as most care for their babies.  There is no nursing home.  No weekly visits forced upon grandchildren.  Awkward halls and meeting rooms with bingo and applesauce and sullen attendant faces.  Instead, Lola Rose, sits below photos of family, cruises down the stone floors with a loved one at her side, listens to angelic singing and naps wrapped in worn blankets from long ago.

Life comes full circle.

Late but not jumpy!

I thought about the wedding today and decided to dust of the gigantic "planning binder" that my mom gave me.  For weeks it sat on a bench, basking in the sun, with this photo of our hands taped on the cover.  During each meal, I would glance at it...and most days fondle it at some point.  It had to go somewhere else.  There was nothing left on the to-do list in the 4-5 month range.

Deep into Daniel's closet it went.  His polo shirts camouflaging the box of myriad "to-do" lists, bridal magazines, boxes of invitations, and advice books.

Today...as yet another blissful day without work unfolded...the binder came back out.  And to my shock and dismay --- I was "over-due" on many items in the 3 month range.  Suddenly we needed to: apply for our officiant's license, pick out wedding bands, choose a tux, decide on the rehearsal dinner logistics, find all addresses for invitations, make an appointment for hair/make-up trial run, apply for a marriage license, and frolic in the land of honeymoon selection. Yikes!  Seriously!?!?

I hastily located the county registrar's website for marriage licenses.....what a labyrinth of paperwork I need to fill out just to change my name.  Good thing LA doesn't require blood tests.  And what a name I'll soon have!  I will never have to be punctual again; however, I will have to worry about being excessively jumpy.  *(This inside joke is unfortunately only for those who know both of our last names.)

And the guest list....ummm...it keeps growing (another mixed-blessing of the blended step-families that exist on both of my sides).  I recognize that with each additional name it means another person or couple whom we love that may attend....but it also meant that the caterer today added 3 more waiters, 1 more bartender, another bar table, and additional glassware rentals to our tab to accommodate these beloved folks.  But what can you do?  Can you seriously look a relative in the eye and say no to their request?  We both can't so far.  Maybe as weeks pass and the bills mount...we will muster up the guts to say, "Sorry, the guest list is full" but for now it's a "more the merrier" mentality.

So, tonight, an amazing gift compiled from friends and family will be of use again.  I am diving into the recipe book that Claire made me.  It is full of favorite recipes from all the women in my life (except it's still missing lemon bars from Barbara and Fadi's tiramisu)...and peppered with quotes about love and how to have a happy marriage.

This evening's menu: (one that I HOPE will draw Daniel from his computer/thesis to join me on the couch)

A Spanish salad with asparagus and oranges

Claire's red lentil soup (I simply can't get enough...the photo is of the virgin immersion blending experience)

Daniela's salmon with parsley and panko

I've got to stir up the energy to chop and saute things with my aching arms.  This Curves business is really giving me quite a workout.  30 minutes of dashing around leopard-printed carpet and weight machines...and hopefully, I'm shrinking.

Yes, I officially want to shrink.  He loves me now...blah,blah, blah...I'm beautiful just the way...yadda-yadda-yadda....bull crap....I want there to be less of me in that dress.  If someone says, "She has such a pretty face," I'll forbid the waiters from delivering them cake.  If someone thinks, "She looks really fit," it will telepathically reach me and they will receive extra cake.

Yikes!  Am I using food as a reward?.....oh....ummm.....I'm going to go chop carrots.