With all the drudgery of wedding planning, there are also requirements that need to be fulfilled for the Catholic Church.  Absolutely lovely!  One of those requirements is a Catholic Engaged Encounter.  Most couples choose the one day program, but our deacon highly recommended the weekend one.  Dean doesn’t read anything unless it’s sports-related so I had to summarize the emails we’d gotten.  “It’s from Friday evening through Sunday afternoon.  Couples talk about their relationships.  I guess we do exercises.  Oh, and we sleep in separate rooms with a roommate.”  So off we went to Menlo Park last weekend with our duffle bags plus diet cokes, crackers and chips—our contribution to the snack table.

I was certain we were going to be the oldest people since most of the classes we’ve been to have been dominated by couples in their twenties.  But there was a mix of lots of different ages.  A lot of people around my age.  It actually doesn’t really matter because the weekend is so focused on hearing about the relationship dynamic of two couples, then reflection time, then couple time.  There was an older couple married for 29 years and a younger couple married for 16 years.  They would each cover topics like communication, sexual intimacy, family, forgiveness.  After their talk, each person would write for 15 minutes about the topic and exploratory questions.  Then you’d find your fiancé and talk for 15 minutes.  That was the basic structure.

What I just wrote sounds super-boring.  There were a lot of glum faces on Friday evening, but by Sunday, even the guys were talking about how powerful they found the program to be.  People left saying, “Yeah, that was really good.”  I think what made it good was listening to these loving couples who have been married for what seems like an eternity talk about their struggles: second marriages, children, fidelity.  The challenges they faced are the same ones we’re going to face and they talk about how they handled them, then you think about it by yourself, then you come together as a couple and process it together.  I also think the whole weekend of doing these exercises really helped ingrain the messages.

We had to write pledge letters to each other.  Dean’s made me cry.

Beautiful Baby,

You are the best thing that ever happened to me; and most importantly I appreciate the gift you are in mind, body, spirit such that we make God’s gift together abundantly clear–we two are one…

In love together – forever!

This is why, I will use each day to take steps closer to you, sharing and caring as well as loving you beyond our wedding day which is simply the beginning of a journey with hills and valleys.

I never want to walk upon the tender stems, leaves, and petals of my gentle flower; yet, should I ever fail you, I fail us.  I know this and I dread this, because I love you and because I know missteps are imminent.  However, please never doubt my pledge and understand my stupidity is only exceed by my remorse.

I am however deeply committed to us.  I can see the most beautiful days on the horizon, because you have given me so much already.  I’m looking forward to everyday and ready to cherish the biggest challenges as well as our small victories; a child; a home; a hug.

Love forever,

Dean!

We were delighted to attend a University of Chicago event last night at the Rena Bransten Gallery which is within walking distance to where we live.  The event was sponsored by the Chicago Society—a group whose members donate $2,500 or more every year.  I think they were courting me because I’m certainly not a member.  The first part was mainly mingling.  I was really zoned out from the Wellbutrin, so I forced myself to eat the cheese and hors d’oeuvres.

The second part was what stood out for me.  I had no idea that the school breaks ground in two weeks to build a $314 million arts center to be completed in 2012.  Officially called the Reva and David Logan Center for Creative and Performing Arts, it is MAJOR.  I can’t emphasize major enough.  I’m sure it’s bigger and definitely looks much better than our new business school.  It is gorgeous.  I want my kid to go here!  Here are some details I remember.  There will be a high rise building adjacent a low-rise section.  They plan on mixing the studios and classrooms so there aren’t isolated areas of specific practices.  The penthouse with views of the city will be a performance area for jazz ensembles, poetry readings.

The event also featured a senior at Chicago studying art.  She showcased her work and talked about why Chicago is different from other schools.  She spoke in the abstract so she totally lost me!

Overmedicated.

I couldn’t stand the feeling anymore after the second pill.  Woozy.  Three days was enough.  I called Kaiser.  They put me through to the advice nurse after eight impatient minutes.  ”How can I help you?” She had a filipino accent.  I listed my symptoms.  Then I told her I had communicated with friends who were also on Wellbutrin and none of them took an afternoon dose.  Why did I have to take a pill in the morning and a second one in the afternoon?  ”Your doctor must have thought it was right for you, did you talk to him about your concern?”

“I have never done this before so how would I have known what’s the right dosage for me.  I’m 85 pounds.  Why am I getting the same dosage as guys twice my size?” I was exasperated.

She responded, “You should have told the doctor your weight.”

“Really?  Isn’t that in my file?”

“It depends.  When was the last time you were here and had your weight taken?”

“I go every year for a pap.  It’s there in my file!”

She said she’d have another doctor call me within 48 hours.  The doctor called in 30 minutes.  I told her my symptoms.  I told her my weight.  I told her about my friends.

“I would have never given you 300 milligrams.  I wouldn’t have even given you 150. Especially if this is the first time, I start on 100, even 75.  It’s ok to stop the afternoon pill.  How about you continue, then let me know if you want a lower dosage.  We can do that too.”

Unfortunately, I spoke to her after the second dose.

I’m sitting at Marc’s candlelit dining room table as he walks from the stove to the bookshelf.  ”When you braise, do you cover?  I forget.  Is pork at 160?”  He flips through cookbooks.

“Why are you asking me?  I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Black Eyed Peas is playing in the background.  My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.  Lulu is on the brown cowhide, gnawing on a bone.  After kissing and nuzzling with me, she returns to the bone.  She dismisses the boxful of dog toys.

Marc has set out a plate of apples and another with some kind of soft cheese and Carr crackers.  He says he has a lot of work to do, but he’s fluttering around the kitchen over potatoes and the braised pork.

Glee in twenty minutes!

It’s evening time and I feel like throwing up.  The afternoon dose doesn’t make me very happy.  I feel nauseous.  I can’t concentrate. I feel like laying down, but I’m also super jittery.

It’s different with the morning dose.  I feel a little kick–like taking Sudafed, but without the cold.  It’s enough of a kick that I don’t need caffeine.  I used to drink black tea constantly.  I’ve switched to soothing ginger tea.

I’m extremely focused on what I’m doing.  There’s no more periphery.  I’m either focused on something or not.  I can see why Wellbutrin helps with smoking cessation.  I don’t crave what I used to.  No more chips, cookies, See’s chocolate.  I’m super mellow.  Even Dean can tell.  Little things don’t bother me.  I’m not irritable after work. I guess that’s the result I wanted.

What I can’t deal with is the damn second pill.

In honor of book club tonight, here is an email from a friend and then my follow-up response.

hey cathy,

just wanted to ask how you know what books to buy for the kids. madie absolutely loves all the books that you’ve bought her, esp. Dear Zoo.  she loves it so much i think we have to buy her a new one. Peek-a-Who is another bedtime favorite. she doesn’t really like the Dr. Seuss ones. anyway, i was thinking of buying her more and wanted to know where you bought them or if you have any other suggestions…

thanks auntie cathy!

—————-

thanks stepher, that totally made my easter sunday!  the weather here is horrible (pouring rain and hail!) and i’m sick so it hasn’t been quite the holiday weekend i was looking forward to

i actually keep a running list of books that friends recommend to me and i also do research around the holidays / gift-giving time.

if you don’t have these, here are some good ones!

goodnight moon

goodnight, gorilla

brown bear, what do you see

the little engine that could

ten little fingers and ten little toes

if you give a mouse a cookie (whole series)

i also have more book recs for when madie is older, too.  but i’m saving those for her birthday!

it’s also hard to ascertain what kids like.  i bought a friend’s kid some of the books that madie likes and i swear that kid doesn’t veer from this one really lame book that he has ripped apart.  i don’t even think it’s that compelling!  oh well.

so glad madie likes the books i got!

xoxo,

cathy

Today is my first day on an anti-depressant.  First day ever.

Take 1 tablet orally 2 times a day.  150mg in the morning.  150mg eight hours later.  The ingredients and timing seem so calculated—the same way my life was calculated: elementary school, college, business school, work, and throw in several solid international vacations.  I could have plotted my life on a Mead’s spiral-bound notebook.

Yet the decision to go on Wellbutrin was not a calculated one.  It’s like it whispered to me.

I’m not one of those people who’s scared to take medication.  I’ll take aspirin, Sudafed, Nyquil, Ambien, and wash it down with a glass of wine.  Once I called the advice nurse and made him promise I wouldn’t end up like Heath Ledger.  He chuckled.  No, of course not.  It’s fine to take all the meds you mentioned.

Taking the medication wasn’t the problem.  The question is when to stop.  With the cold and flu, you end the drugs when you’re better.  With Ambien, I don’t take it every night so that doesn’t concern me.  With an anti-depressant, how do you know when to stop?  When I posed that question to the psychiatrist, he said, “Given what you’ve told me, you’d have to be on indefinitely.”  Being on a medication forever seems like a scary prospect for me.  So I never went on.

Until a good friend of mine publicly proclaimed the benefits of Wellbutrin, “Changed my life.”  You don’t hear those words often.  I remember several years ago, a friend told me that Botox cured her severe sweating problem.  She had said it changed her life.  Really?  You mean I don’t have to sweat through my blouses at work anymore?  Underarm sweating had caused me a lifetime of embarrassment.  I signed up eagerly for the 15-20 injections in each armpit.  Good-bye sweating.  Good-bye deodorant.  Botox changed my life, too.

A couple weeks ago, I had lunch with a coworker.  It had been a while since we hung out and it was time to catch up.  But it didn’t turn out to be a surface-level catch up lunch.  We delved into relationships.  He confided about his broken engagement.  I described to him what made my relationship different from others.  Then I don’t know how it slipped in, but he said, “I’m lucky I found Wellbutrin.  I’ve tried anti-depressants before, but this one really works for me.”

Ever since I was a little kid, I could cry my little heart out.  I thought I’d grow out of it.  I thought it was an adolescent thing, or the pressure of Berkeley, or uprooting myself for Chicago.  I thought it was the weather.  Maybe it was the emotional roller coaster of dating.  Then you find someone to love who loves you back, but you’re still crying.  I realized I never outgrew it.  Maybe this can help.

If I owned my own business, I would promise to be professional at all times.  I’d promise good customer service.  I’d promise responses to emails in a timely fashion.  In other words, I wouldn’t treat my customer as if they didn’t exist.  How would I expect to grow my business then?

Here’s my dilemma: wedding vendors.  Some don’t respond AT ALL.  Some take forever to respond.  I personally think it’s bad business when you have to project manage these businesses.  I am—in all ways—project managing my vendors.  It’s ridiculous.  I still have yet to find a makeup artist.  I love it when they don’t respond to clarifying questions that I have.  It’s like, why bother on their part.  Why bother?  Don’t you want my business?  It’s such a joke that I told myself.  You know what, I’m going to book the first makeup artist who responds to my email within 24 hours.  Can it be that hard, people?!

I can understand slacking once you’ve inked a contract.  Let me caveat that by saying I PERSONALLY WOULD NEVER DO THAT.  But in one case, I told someone that I was ready to sign the contract if he could simply answer some final questions.  I haven’t heard from him in two weeks.  WTF, people.  What the fuck?

You know how doctors take the Hippocratic oath?  Business owners need their own creed.  I swear to treat my customers with respect at all times

WORK: I’m so tired, I feel like throwing up.  I’m over-caffeinated and sleep-deprived.  I was told jokingly, but probably factually that my bonus was dependent on a certain metric.  I have not felt this kind of pressure at work in a very long time.  Add to the mix that I’m the only grunt worker who supports the group at headquarters every single day versus others who are part-time or work in other locations.  So I get stuck with phone calls, responding to letters, and doing a bunch of miscellaneous shit.  I had a ‘woe is me’ moment last night.  It’s just not fair, blah, blah, fucking blah.

At least I have a job.  At least I have several years worth of savings.  At least I have a roof over my head.  A friend from high school said that the hardest thing was really wanting to work, desperate for a job, but not having the chance.  I try to remember her words whenever I complain about my situation.

FRAUD: A couple fraudulent Microsoft X-Box charges for $50 each posted to my credit card a few days ago.  I called Charles Schwab.  “I honestly don’t even know what X-Box is.  I had to ask my coworkers.”

“Do you have any kids at home?”

“Unless you consider my fiancé a kid, no.”

“That’s funny.  Well I’m going to go ahead and credit your account for those charges, close out the account, and open up a new one for you.”

NOOOOO!  Painful because now I have to call everyone who’s linked to my credit card: PG&E, Club One, internet services.  I have no idea.  I have to scrutinize my bills for the past couple months and figure it out.  Then I have to call and deal with some customer service rep in Hyderabad who I can’t understand.

HELP: I need either a vacation or a personal assistant.