life

the new year should start in march

Having tagged along for my husband’s conference, I now sit in a casino-hotel called “Mystic Lake” run by the Mdewakanton Nation of Minnesota Native Americans, and it smells like cigarette smoke and old coffee. Likely because the casino is across the way and there’s a Caribou Coffee right behind me (cue the squeal of steaming milk). The combination of smells is mildly inspiring, if only for the old song. And I realize in a jolt I’ve not written here for a good six months.

Let me give you a brief photo update:

After I left Thailand in July 2017, my street rescue Jet got a new home and a new best friend, a little chihuahua named Tinkerbell. They’re pretty close, close enough Jet feels she can push Tink around a little…

In late October, I got to see my best friend in her new home in Kansas City, where she’s working like a BOSS at Hallmark. We then roadtripped back to my house in Kentucky in time for Halloween. She even wore a witch hat for me (dress-up is SO uncool). I was Mavis, the vampgal from Hotel Transylvania, and somewhere mid-transformation, used way too much Hard Candy concealer. People kept walking up to the antique shop booth where I was working and jumping when I moved. “Wow! I thought you were fake!”

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Bestie pulled an illegal U-ee in Lee’s Summit, Missouri for me to snap this. She knows me so well.

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Mid-November, about two weeks before my wedding, I visited my in-laws in Wisconsin…and realized just how cold my new home was going to be. Proceeded to search Amazon for appropriate clothing:

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Speaking of weddings, my best guy and I were engaged in August! After two years of long-distance, a story I will have to share another time, he proposed to me at my family’s favorite beach in South Carolina and even used sign language to ask me to marry him.

I mostly worked the ANTI-wedding planning game, because when I had to sit too long and think about details, the mental atmosphere ran something like this:

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There’s a reason I work at a café now.

Our wedding was December 2, a mid-morning ceremony with twinkle lights, Southern breakfast foods, and the best cake any of us have every tasted (thanks to my best friend’s aunt!).

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It’s amazing how fast the wedding flew by. I think here, standing with my new brother-in-law and his gorgeous wife, who got married only a few months before us, I was in such a daze that the only thing I could think to be grateful for was that we were no longer standing in front everyone, getting stared at. The week before, I had started to Google searches like “how to not get sick on your wedding day” or “INFJ marriage terrified too many eyeballs.” While I was still nauseated and could barely eat all the way up to the ceremony, I calmed down as soon as I saw L. And then, surprisingly, he cried before I did!

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It’s still just as cold as I worried it would be, and most days my clothes are so puffy, I cannot even detect myself in them. Observe, how I wear the coat I bought for Nepal and Turkey, thinking I would never have to wear it again…

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But after some time learning how to dress, get around in piles of snow, and I don’t know, cook food*, I’m starting to get the hang of married life and am getting back to writing. (*In Thailand, I just walked down the soi to our neighborhood restaurant, a hole-in-the-wall joint with the most delicious yellow curry–served best with a plateful of rice and a fried egg on top. What was the point of cooking when I could get all that and a coconut water for under two dollars?)

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On another note, after hearing about my sadness in leaving my Thai kitty behind, L’s family gave us one of their cats, Millicent. Black like my street sass but with a tuxedo pattern of white fur and “gloves,” she is the bully granddaughter of the family’s first two cats, who like true barn cats just kept having herds of kittens until they were taken in for preventative measures.

Millicent apparently did not like people or other cats or anything really and so would hang out under the stairs in the basement like a troll. Seeing how unfriendly she was, I was at first resistant to taking her in. I like my cats to be mostly like dogs except able to properly employ a sand box. But after a few weeks of hermit life under the bed, she decided she could stand us. She’s especially affectionate in the morning, when her food bowl is empty. It’s a good thing we don’t have stairs nearby. I’m sure one of us would go tumbling, how she winds around our legs.IMG_0937

So life has settled in, green things are reemerging from their solace in the deep earth, and I too sift through the things I’ve collected in the winter and turn to my journals and keyboard to discover what I think again.

Stay tuned. Many words in the works. And thanks, as always, for reading.

❤ , dori.png

 

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