There's a Fire in my Gut

The burning sensation woke her up. She opened her eyes with a gasp. Her hands automatically started rubbing soothing motions on top of her abdomen, willing the burn to dissipate. She lay in bed quietly, afraid any motion might wake up her boyfriend. Mumbling in his sleep, she turned her head on the soft pillow to look at him. There was just enough moonlight to make out his features outlined by his silver curly hair. Strong Italian Romanesque nose, cheeks that always seemed to have a healthy bloom, lips that could kiss sweetly and under the closed lids, mossy green eyes that mirrored trust, honesty and love.

The burn came back swiftly, catching her off guard and her hands quickly responded with a faster paced rubbing. She remembered what she had been dreaming when the burn came over her. Later that day, she was going to have the annual discussion of marriage with her boyfriend. She had been having this talk for fourteen years with him and any thought of marriage made her gut burn as if she had swallowed gallons of acid. It was not marriage to him that made her panic, it was her first marriage, many painful years ago and the memories started replaying in her mind as she fell asleep again....

She was eighteen years old when she met her first husband at a New Years Eve party and he was fresh out of the Navy. She flirted but made it clear she was not going to fool around and he made up his mind to have her one way or another. Against the warnings of her parents who saw through his charming thin veneer, she married him and by six months later, knew she had made a terrible mistake. In one of their epic fights, he packed her suitcase, bundled up their five month old baby boy in their old Chevy and dropped them all off on her father's doorstep with a torn, crumpled $20 bill stuffed into the baby bag because that's "all she came with when he married her." Many failed reconciliations later, she had enough of the lies, affairs, and pitiful hand to mouth existence due to the fact alcoholism was not a paying job. She made one phone call to her father who never asked questions and picked up her and her three children and took them home for good.

Realizing it was up to her to provide for her family, she used the hard tested skills she possessed: money management, detailed cleaning abilities and lots of sweat equity in home and garden. This all parleyed into running a restaurant that morphed into running hotels, property management and restaurant businesses years later. She was a successful business woman but what about......

A snore wakes her up and she gently turns her boyfriend on his side and gives his back a gentle little pat.

"Love you," she whispers.

"Love you too," he automatically answers back.

As she closes her eyes again, her glance catches the pile of clothes her boyfriend had placed on her chintz slip covered chair in the corner. The delicate lace bras and panties are laying on the top like an explosion of candy wrappers. She smiles as she thinks of all the times her boyfriend will race her to get things done around the house: emptying the dishwasher, setting the table, grocery shopping, folding clothes, sweeping the floor, cleaning the toilet. She tried to think of one flaw or fault he had while laying in the dark and came up blank. She knew he was easy to get along with and her father loved him and included him in many fishing trips. As she drifted away in sleep, a sense of love and peace floated over her and settled in her heart.

"Good Morning Beautiful," were the words that awakened her in the morning. She opened her eyes into his mossy green ones full of love, happiness and hope.

"Good Morning Love," she easily answers with a smile and touch of her hand on his cheek.

"Will you marry me love?" came the annual question this time of year.

A moment of silence lays like a blanket over them in the bedroom. He lays there with the question between them and she waits for the stabbing burn to attack her like all the years before but there is nothing. Her eyes widen, her mouth pops open in shock that she feels fine. She feels totally, completely, no holds barred in love. In love with the man who has been patiently waiting for her to say "yes" for fourteen years but willing to go on loving her forever if needed.

"Yes," she barely gets out as she throws herself into his arms for a kiss to seal the deal! Catching his breath, her boyfriend reaches over to grab the phone and says,

"Let's call Pops. He has a bride to give away pronto!" 

She was married standing by the koi pond in the backyard of their house. Her father walked her down the grey flagstone path to the pond and when the Minister asked him,

"Who gives this woman away?"

He answered in his booming voice,

"I do and this is the LAST time."

It was an issue of trust that had held her frozen all those years and once she could let go and trust in love again, it was an easy decision in the end. After all, she was 68 and he was 70!!

The Polish Nanny

How does a young dark haired beauty from Poland meet a young dynamic man from Arroyo Grande, California? On the Internet of course! Yes, a person can find love on the Internet but there is a strategic method to the complex maze of surfing the Internet love sites.

Christopher, from Arroyo Grande, with a stable extended family, wanted to meet a woman who could live out of a duffel bag while travelling, could discuss philosophy and could survive and enjoy living with his forty family members. Marija, from Poland, a lone long standing survivor of divorced parents, wanted to meet a man who was college educated, had a job and solid career goals and was open to travel on a plane, train, bike, bus or donkey. After scrutinizing each others questions and answers for months, they began their Internet romance for a year and half. Words, images, photo's, video flew over cyberspace like a regular heart beat. Laughing at the latest Polish joke Christopher had sent, Marija knew it was time to meet in person on neutral territory.

Upon accepting a nanny position in London for a summer, Marija shot off an email to Christopher to come over the pond and visit her and play tourist together. He responded quickly by booking his plane ticket and then started worrying if all this money was for nothing...not for the girl he imagined, not for the relationship he was hoping and not for love. Being a history major in college, he regrouped his scattered thoughts and concluded that the trip would be at the very least, a glimpse into castles, old armor and the Elizabethan age of decadence.

Marija met Christopher at Heathrow's terminal gate (he was waving a little Polish flag) and by the time their underground tube ride had ended at Marble Arch, the words were flowing easy and comfortably. Having only a week together, they hit all the big history spots and because the butterflies of love were swarming, one night at the Dorchester....with tea, crumpets and a single pink rose served on a silver tray in the morning.

The night before Christopher was due to step on the plane back to California, he proposed to Marija in a little row boat floating along the Thames. She mumbled something in Polish which meant, "yes, oh yes, yes, of course yes"; and plans were sketched loosely for a wedding in America. 

Thousands of emails later, Marija arrived in California with her few possessions stuffed into bags and her heart full of hope and love in the future and Christopher. It seemed only months later, she was diagnosed with a liver disease and drugs were heavily pumped into her body. She continues to be on multiple medications and  is at the bottom of a long waiting list for a donor organ.

Marija and her "Krysztof" (Christopher in Polish) are still getting married. They truly understand that their future is not written yet and may end tragically. Their love has been tested by distance, language, time and the frailty of a human body. On their wedding day, as Christopher says his wedding vows, it will truly have a powerful and emotionally charged meaning for him:

I, Christopher, take you Marija, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.

May prayers be sent up that this young couple can have a rich and long life together with their children and their children's children for many days to come. Amen.

The Son of the Groom

Sometimes you don't get it right the first time. It happens. For whatever reasons you end up marrying someone who is not good for you or good with you. At the end, you may have a couple of children who deserve all the love and attention you can shower on them during this tumultuous time. This makes me reflect on a wedding we did a few years ago with a young couple from bumpy first marriages...

The groom was in his mid thirties, pharmaceutical sales and put many miles on his company Saturn. The bride was also in her mid thirties, half way through nursing school at Cuesta College and was burning her coffee pot black due to studying. They met in the local hospital where he was selling drugs and she was handing out the drugs to patients! It was love at first sight over the hospital tray, bed pans and perfume of sterile cleaning chemicals in the air. Lots of coffee breaks in the hospital cafeteria to talk and discover their shared history of mistakes, new lives and new dreams. 

The groom had a ten year old son from his first marriage with big chocolate brown eyes, a shy smile and a habit of looking at you from underneath his baseball cap. He was very quiet and when I questioned him about his new step mother, he would shyly smile and say, "she is very pretty." Sadly, his mother was out of the picture because her mind was focused on drugs and alcohol and not her son. It was very important that this new family was stable and loving so the little boy could finally have a real family...not a yelling, screaming, angry family.

On the day of the wedding, all was calm. The groom kept his son by his side and would often touch his shoulder for comfort and reassurance. The bride was gorgeous in her simple white suit and antique roses were pinned up in her hair. She wore the small pearl stud earrings her new "son" had given her as a wedding present and made a point of smiling at him when she reached the front of the church.

I remember turning my head and looking at the little boy and saw that he was crying. Big crocodile tears were streaming down his face. I rushed over to him, bent down on my knees and said in a whisper,

"Why are you crying? Are you okay? Does something hurt?"

As I handed him a Kleenex although he was already using his sleeve to wipe off his tears, he said very quietly,

"I am just so happy for my father. He is so happy. He loves my new mother."

I was floored. This little boy was only thinking of his father and his happiness.

I reached around him to give him the sweetest hug and whispered to him,

"They both love you because you are a very special little boy. They are lucky to have you as their son. Happy Wedding Day, sweetie."

p.s. They got married on Valentine's Day!

A quote, advice and a wish

Whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

Emily Bronte

Tip to Avoid a Wedding Day Disaster

Never try a new beauty product-or, God forbid, get a facial-on the day or the days leading up to your wedding. The last thing you need is a breakout or rash on face and throat! Stick to your normal routine and you'll glow like the angel you are.

Lizzie Nichols

Happy Valentine's Day Everyone!

Get out there and celebrate love with your honey, family, and friends.

Love is in the air and we all need to take a deep breath!

   Lisa the Queen of Love

History of the Honeymoon

Going back to ancient times and the "grab-girl-go" method of weddings, there was bound to be a few upset families on both sides and abandoned husbands unhappy with the new living situations. The stolen bride would be secretly hidden away for many purposes; either the bride was not too thrilled with her new husband or the brides family was out hunting with crude knives dipped in poison guaranteed to rot off a few his body parts. The ex-husband would be missing the cooking, cleaning and whoopee of his old life and would try to track the new couple while the grooms family had no clue that tribal war was about to break out over their male relatives' lack of self control.

The man or "groom" would attempt to woo his new bride with fresh bison meat, a new saber tooth comb for her knotty hair and a nice flat rock for their bridal bed. Beautiful, artistic fires would be built at every meal to show his domination over fire and not so subtlety, over his new bride. The groom hoped that all his affections for his new woman would persuade her not to murder him in his sleep too.

The concept of hiding away has evolved into the honeymoon where the young couple disappear for parts unknown although they are both willing and equal partners. Maybe if the caveman had the Four Seasons Hotel to soothe the ruffled feathers of his stolen bride, it would have made a happier marriage. If not, having a deep tissue massage while plotting how to kick in your husband's teeth is a lot more enjoyable!

A Short History of Weddings

In ancient times, weddings were a little more casual than they are today. Rival tribes, in order to increase their population (and alleviate their boredom with hunting and gathering all the time), would regularly stage raids against one another, with the main objective of stealing women. It helped if you were not so physically blessed in looks because you just might get to hang around with your parents for a bit longer till the raiding party were really, really desperate for any women.

The raiding party is the equivalent of the present day groom and his groomsmen. Even though they are not wearing loincloths or bear skins, they can act "primitive" in language ( Whattt? no, yes, dunno), action (putting their gum on the pew) and total focus of drinking the "fire water" (beer) before and during the wedding. 

Sometimes the young women in question hear the news on the "grape vine" of the upcoming raiding party and put up a feeble fight. The women may have their own reasons for leaving their families and friends and want to try something new with a good looking guy from the neighboring tribe. Who knows, they may get stolen back in the next month anyways...why not have some fun?

Ancient weddings were pretty simple: grab a girl and run like heck home!

The Highlander and His American Rose

You never know who you will meet in Edinburgh, Scotland while waiting in a taxi line, late at night, flushed with a few beers, lingering smile on your face from the casual flirting and wisps of hair blowing in the cool Scottish mist. You could possibly meet your Highlander.

Isabella had two weeks left on her semester abroad for college and this was not in the curriculum. She had played the tourist well; Edinburgh castle, Hades Wall, Loch Ness Monster, Cashmere sweaters for everyone  and tested out all the pubs in a five mile radius. She was packing up to leave but could not pack her heart away in a suitcase, far, far away from Danny, her Highlander.

Danny knew the way of the land and had never stepped off Scottish soil.  He had startling blue eyes, wavy chestnut hair to the top of his collar and an accent that could melt any woman in hearing distance.  He knew standing in that taxi line that somehow he needed to "chat up" the beautiful, dark haired young woman. Her velvet brown eyes and American accent captured his attention further making conversation easy and following it up with two weeks together too short. Danny had become quite "attached" to Isabella, his American Rose; and they both realized saying goodbye was going to be difficult.

It became a global romance: two months in the Cayman Islands while he was working; six weeks in Seattle as she finished her college thesis; two weeks for college graduation wearing his kilt; three weeks in Spain wearing  her bikini and one huge waterfall for the proposal with a hundred tourists and a diamond ring.

The Highlander and his American Rose have flourished despite the distance, communication misfires and internet dead zones. We celebrated their love in grand Scottish style with kilts, bagpipes and draping them both in his families tartan at the Old Mission Church. Even though Isabella will wait for six weeks before she can join him due to immigration visa rules, we all know her heart and mind are on the Highland moors drenched in thick grey mist where Danny awaits her with a bouquet of purple heather.

Isn't love grand, laddie!

An Ad in the New York Times

If I were to run an ad in the New York Times, this is how it would read!

Job Description

Lisa Pimentel Johnson, the Queen of Love, is a leading interactive wedding coordinator based in San Luis Obispo, CA. I work with some of the world's most recognizable brides and grooms including families from all over the world and a few from space as well.

Me:

~Deep interactive expertise with extensive bride/groom experience.

~Fun, happy and spiritual background with a history of a successful marriage.

~Involved with small/large-scale weddings, saving the bridal couple from social faux pas, and dismantling each other before the wedding.

~Can cut through the crap and will tell you what you need to hear even though you don't want to hear it.

~Adept at coaxing, prodding and motivating with sugar the youngest of flower girls.

~Want to be in on couple meetings from the beginning and work through any floral, photographer, "OhmyGod, I Hate My Hair," or "What was my mother thinking?!" crisis'.

~Possess a solid shoulder to cry on and unlimited hugs.

~Hungry for exciting work with couples over the moon in love.

~If needed, will lock drunk grooms, screaming bridesmaids, nasty mothers and overly obnoxious fathers in the confessional during the wedding.

~Not responsible for lost camera's, lost virtues, lost dreams or lost minds at the church.

You:

~One of you needs to be baptized Catholic and willing to be married inside the church; not in the rose bushes, riding a wave, in the creek or up in the belfry.

~Full of enthusiasm to complete volumes of paperwork.

~Love each other with no exceptions, bribes or torture involved.

~Never call me at home, stalk me in the grocery store or grab me in the Communion line at Mass.

~I am responsible only for the day, the couple is responsible for the marriage...don't forget it!

You up for it?

Call me.

Dear Daddy, I Miss You.

On this drizzly Saturday morning I am thinking of a wedding I did last year with the same weather conditions. The bride and groom were from Orange county, mid thirty's and financially upwardly mobile.

 A sentimental cosmopolitan bride in style, the dress was a sleek white satin sheath, cinched in at the waist with a soft Japanese style obi. Her hair was Audrey Hepburn pixie cut and a creamy white orchid was tucked behind the ear. The wedding bouquet was dazzling in its delicacy. It reminded me of an arrangement gently gathered from a Grandmother's garden; the delicate soft pink shades of antique roses; coral schizostylis; sprigs of lily-of-the-valley and white snowberries. A delicate sky blue forget-me-not was tucked into the bouquet as a remembrance of her father who could not be there that day. 

He had died of cancer six months prior and while the bride helped her mother pack up his books, clothes, tools, and fishing poles to give away to charity, she kept one piece behind. He had worn it to celebrate some of her families most cherished moments; birthdays, holidays, graduations and weddings. He had worn it to some of the most painful and cruel family losses; funerals, federal court, job interviews and hospital visits. 

Best of all it still smelled like him and on this day, her wedding day, she wrapped his favorite red and blue striped tie around the stems of her bouquet. Tears splashed down on the delicate petals of the soft roses, as the bride gazed down at the tie and her father's cologne wrapped around her. Everyone was crying now, touched by the loss and memories evoked by the gesture.

The groom was having his own emotional strength tested. Dressed in a single breasted charcoal grey suit with a crisp white shirt and pinned on the notched lapel was a butter yellow orchid boutonniere. He was wearing his father's navy and grey striped gold tie and family heirloom gold cuff links. His father had just passed away from cancer too...one month ago.

 Struggling to control his face as the tie was slipped on and tightened by his mother, he finally gave up the fight and broke down crying. Mother and son hugged tightly to each other as the wave of emotions swept through them. Friends standing by turned away to give them this last peaceful moment before the emotional wedding festivities begun.

The simple tenderness in remembering the two fathers in this wedding pulled on everyone heartstrings. The fathers had deeply cherished their families and the hole they had left behind was still healing. There was a sense of life's fragility and the importance of being thankful for being alive and in love.

 The two fathers were "present" in the church that day...they were "sitting" in the front pews with their families.  Where there is love, the impossible will happen and it would have been impossible not to have them there on the wedding day with their son and daughter.

Hollywood Wedding

Hollywood weddings are those couples whose address have the Southern California zip code, real movie stars or somehow connected to the film industry. I have done some traditional and some colorful, creative, "let's test my patience," Hollywood weddings. One of my more memorable experiences was the "Cheetah" wedding.

It all started a year ago when the bride called to book the Old Mission Church in San Luis Obispo for the wedding and right away, she wanted to know if a girl could be the Best Man or Best Woman as in their situation. Since there was no canon law stating the sex of the witness for the groom, I told her that would be okay. From that point on, I had very creative and unusual questions whenever this wedding was discussed or planned.

Some of my phone conversations:

The bride: "Can our little Chihuahuas be the ring bearer and flower girl for our wedding?"

My response: "No, only Seeing Eye dogs are allowed in the church."

The bride: "Oh $%#&, we have a little tux and dress for them to wear in the wedding. Are you sure?"

My response: "If only the Pope had a Labrador in the Vatican, and if he would say mass in St. Peter's church with him by the altar, we might be able to have dogs in the church."

The bride: "Does my wedding dress have to be white? I was thinking purple."

My response: (Taking a breath) Yes, your wedding dress can be purple if you like. Are you really sure about that color choice? Does your Mom know? Does the Man of Honor know? Have you talked about this with anyone?"

 

I am desperately trying to save her from herself.

The bride: "I love the color purple! My car is purple, my bedroom is purple, most of my clothes are purple and I just had my hair stylist put in a purple streak in my hair for the wedding. I think purple is perfect!"

She was definitely living in her purple world with a purple groom. Oh well, I did try.

My response: "Wow! You really love purple. Okay, it's a purple wedding dress day."

The bride: "Thanks. Can there be black flowers on the altar?"

My response: "Sure, but we call those dead flowers here in San Luis Obispo!"

Thank goodness the bride and I had a fun working relationship and she could appreciate my humor at this point.

On the day of the event, twenty minutes before the wedding is to start, there are no guests arriving and there are no family members or wedding party at the Mission. I start to wonder if I have the wrong day and time.

Finally, ten minutes before the happy memories are to begin, the groom shows up wearing an orange tux that went shockingly well with his bright red hair.

I found guests walking around the Mission grounds looking for where the "wedding concert" was going to be held and did they miss the warm up band. 

The amazing common theme of the wedding guests was their hair. Their hair was dyed like a cheetah's: yellow, black and with various sizes of brown spots! A whole bottle of gel must have been used to get the "lift" and "swoosh" in their hair.

Their clothes were very trendy, tight and black.

They were also very friendly, fun and understanding when the bride showed up 45 minutes late due to wardrobe malfunction in her purple wedding dress a la 55 staples holding it together!

I love Hollywood Weddings!

The Pirate & Sassy Wench...Part One

The Meeting

This Pirate had to loosen his buckle a little to make room for the expanding good french wine waistline; his swagger was a little slower in Nike tennis shoes and his hair was still thick but definitely sterling silver. He had weathered one divorce and decided his mistress was truly his boat...all 40 feet of her. He was new to plotting his life by the stars and was always looking for experienced sailors and a saucy wench or two to keep the deck lively. He had charted a new dream girl to pursue: a little wispy blond girl that could sail, cook and voraciously read science fiction.

The colorful flags were hoisted to announce the upcoming sailing regatta and the Pirate knew he needed a crew to race. The day dawned sunny, cloudless and calm as the crew walked out to the sail boat with igloo's stuffed with cool drinks, imported cheeses, Swiss chocolate and a few crusty baguette's. Voices were laced with laughter, excitement and anticipation of the upcoming race. A new sailor was among the group. She had been recruited by a friend of a friend and practically had barnacles growing on the bottom of her feet. Raised on the East coast near water, she had been sailing since she was barely tall enough to fit over the side of the boat. She would race her brothers to the boat every day to gain control of the wheel, kicking and pushing as they went.

It was no different today. Her eye was on the main wheel, putting her back to the harbor and let the sun and wind dance on her face. She was a tall dark brunette with moss green eyes, a rapier mind and wit and nothing like the dream girl. She didn't care about the other sailors or the Pirate and only wanted to stay on the water...forever.

The Pirate glanced at the new sailor, saw experienced hands and breathed with excitement that he just might win this race. A slight ripple crossed his face when she took the wheel and in his mind he thought,

"Why, the sassy wench!"

More to come....

The Smashed Groom

Two days before their wedding at the Old Mission Church in San Luis Obispo, John and Mary came into my office for the final pre-wedding check off appointment. Everyone was pumped with excitement and as usual, I asked them what fun social activities were they doing with their bridal parties on the day of the rehearsal.

"Oh, the bridesmaids and I are going for a day of pampering. Nails, pedicures, facials, light lunch cause you know we all have to still try and fit into our dresses,  and lots of girl talk!" exclaimed Mary.

"How about you, John? What trouble are guys going to get into it?" I asked with a smile.

He grinned and with a daredevil glint in his eye he said,

"The guys and I are going rock climbing."

"Oh?" I reply with a huge questioning look at the bride.

"It's okay Lisa. John is very careful and he knows I would kill him if he got hurt or somehow could not make it to the wedding. He has been rock climbing for a long time and I had his best friend, the best man, Ryan, also promise me that he would watch out for John too. We have it all covered." she said with complete confidence.

It's 5:15pm on the night of the rehearsal and we are still waiting for the groom to arrive. Mary is chatting with her mother and looks all polished from head to toe...the spa day was a big success going by the glow of her skin and eyes! I turn to answer a question for the priest when all becomes quiet...

Glancing over to the garden door of the Mission I see what I think looks like John. This John's face is all smashed, bloody, scraped and missing pieces of hair and scalp though. His eyes search out Mary and locks on her face as he enters the Mission hesitantly. There are catches of breath echoing around the sanctuary as John finally stands before Mary with his arms extended palms up. Mary's face is frozen in a tremulous smile as she slowly, gingerly takes his bruised hands in her own freshly polished ones and tenderly leans into John while resting her head onto his chest. He disconnects his hands to enfold her carefully and everyone could hear him say,

"I am so, so, so, sorry. It was a freak accident. I am so sorry. Will you forgive me?"

Mary does not say anything for a few minutes but continues to bury her face in John's shoulder and just let him hold her. All the family and friends find a pew in the church to sit down and await the explosion they feel is gathering like a storm in Mary.

Mary raises her head, looks John in the eyes and says softly,

"I knew what I was getting into when I gave my heart to you. Yes, I forgive you but I need more time to get past it because now our pictures are going to be crap." 

At that everyone laughed and I leaped on the forward motion and lightness of spirit to begin the rehearsal but half way through, John surprised us again. During the part when only the bride and groom are at the front of the altar to exchange rings, John stops the rehearsal. Looking piercingly at Mary, he says,

"Mary, I just want you to know how much I love you and for being truly sorry for the sad state of my face, I have something special for you."

John reached into his pocket and awkwardly pulled out a diamond heart swinging on a silver chain necklace that took him ten minutes to put on with his slightly crushed hands. We all sensed that this had to be done by him only and cheered them both when his task was complete. 

Yes, love gets bruised, smashed and beaten but it can still survive and take you to new heights!

Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can't Lose

You are not going to believe where I saw this! It resonates with me on so many levels. I have quoted this so many times with the couples that come banging on my door to get hitched in a building that is over 200 years old.

Clear Eyes

Do we all see our partners with clear eyes? Do we see what we want to see or should be seeing or are hoping to see? Clear eyes see every little bump, every little freckle and every flaw that makes us human. If you can accept that person exactly how they are; understand that you will differ on subjects, way of doing things and personal taste; know that they will spend money on stuff you will never understand and have quirks that are most of the time adorable, you do see clearly the person standing by your side.

Full Hearts

You must be passionately in love from the roots of your hair to your stubbed toe with your mate. Real passion does not die either. It develops into this rich, warm, soft cashmere blanket that wraps around both of you. Passion is what makes a couple work hard through the communication disasters, money catastrophes, job stresses and human flaws to get to the love that was buried under life's junk. With a full heart you can trust that you will never be alone and somebody is always there with a hug, kiss or three simple words..I love you.

Can't Lose

Life and love are a leap of faith. We don't know where we are going and we don't know if it is all going to work out. Faith helps us to get out of bed in the morning to try this thing called life and love helps us to do it with a smile. You can't lose if you are willing to do the work, see life clearly and do it with a full heart.

By the way, where I found the quote was in the men's football locker room at a high school in Texas. Ain't that something, sugar!

X Marks the Spot

The girls knew they were running late. Today was the WORST day to run late. They also knew that Mike (the Proposer) was very mellow, laid back kind of guy and would probably not be too hard on them that they were getting off 3 hours later than the time promised. They also knew he had planned out a very special proposal plan for that day and their timeliness was critical for the plan to work. 

 What Mike didn't know was:

Five girls will never, ever, leave on time. 

Cell phone reception in the mountains is like trying to call Mars. 

Five girls wanting to read a map...one in a million. Five girls having to read a map for the proposal to work...one in a gazillion.

Clues being lost, moved, removed on a public trail will be mighty tempting for some. Better put Smokey the bear, Fang the Wolf, Snoopy or Tweety Bird on guard.

Your Wingman might not be able to make that one very important call to tell you that your bride is headed up your way...by mistake.

The Explorer tore up Highway One dodging happy campers, casual weekend drivers, incredibly fit bike riders (some of the girls checked out that scenery) and barely noticed the beautiful rugged coastline of waves crashing on the beach and pampas grasses blowing in the breeze. They made it to three of the clues and decided to "jump" to the last clue since it was getting late. Jen, the Proposee, ran up the trail, barely feeling the branches scratching her arms and legs in her haste to get to the waterfall spot. All of a sudden, crouched by a rock, she sees Mike and squeals,

"Hey Mike! There you are sweetie."

Mike turns around in shock that he has been spotted and in the wrong place.

"You don't see me. Pretend you never saw me." Mike quickly replies and dashes back down the trail.

"Oh...bye," whispers Jen as she watches her sweetie leap frog down the trail as if a swarm of bees are after him.

Jen goes over to the last clue and reads that she actually needs to meet him at the beach at sunset. She high tails it out of there back to the car with some more scratches on her legs and arms. By this time she has figured out what is going on and is wondering if her deodrant is still working and if the dew of perspiration is attractive.

They finally got the sweetest part right, on the beach with the sun setting, down on one knee. All the time lags, missed clues, scrapes and bruises were a good introductory to probably what marriage will be like for Jen and Mike. Sure isn't going to be boring!

p.s. I hope Jen and Mike know I love them and took creative license just a little bit with their proposal story. They are a wonderful couple and I am lucky to know them. Kisses and hugs to you both.

The Mermaid Wedding

Shoes were kicked off everywhere on the sand...black shiny pumps, purple sandals, pink strappy heels, black and white converse, brown scuffed up loafers and all different sizes of Reefer flip flops. 

Guys had their pant legs rolled up and women's skirts were swaying gently with the tangy salty air coming across the ocean. 

The sun was melting down into the waves as the groom stood in his cream summer suit at the end of a raked smooth sandy path. There were clear half filled glass vases with sand, seashells and a votive candle to mark the path for the bride to find her Merman. 

A canopy of crisp white sheet sail was stretched and tied with jute rope to four strong branches of driftwood to form a dais where sacred vows would be spoken. 

Murmurs swept thru the waiting wedding guests,

"The bride is coming! She is walking on the beach with the children."

Heads swivel and feet take a few steps in the pebbley sand in order to catch a glimpse of the wedding party. 

The bride looks like she has emerged from her home in the ocean. Her hair is long and loose with a whisper of a veil pinned with a shimmering comb. Her white raw silk dress is backless, held up with spaghetti straps and encircling her hips was a satin band made of silver and crystal bugle beads. 

Holding her hands were their daughters; giggling, while dressed in matching sunflower yellow sundresses and crowns of babysbreath placed on their heads. The brides son trailed his sister carrying five perfectly pink tulips to represent the new family they would become.

The groom's shoulders relaxed as his bride made her way along the beach, laughing and talking with the children. The guests all had smiles on their faces as they watched the Mermaid bride come stand by her Merman.

Soon it was almost over, tears shed, promises spoken, blessings wrapped around all of them. It made me remember a conversation I had with this very special couple. I asked each of them,

"How do you know this is the right person for you?"

The groom easily replied,

"When I saw her sitting on the couch reading to her children.

When I saw her eyes fill with tears as her daughter gave her a picture she had drawn. It was just a tree.

When I saw how many times she hugged and kissed her children, my daughter...and me."

The bride smiled and said,

"When I saw how he hugged his daughter.

When I saw him walking down the sidewalk with roses in his arms towards me.

When I saw him lift his mother from her wheelchair into her bed and then kiss her goodnight."

It was easy to see why these two people had found their "Adam" and "Eve" in each other and wanted to spend the rest of their life creating memories together. At the end, it seemed to make sense, as the couple exchanged a very passionate kiss, their children kicked up sand around them!

"I'm All Shook Up"

The 2008 year was a brutal year for weddings due to the huge scope of construction on the Old Mission for the retrofit. The old terra cotta Spanish tiles were removed from most of the roofs and stored on site behind stylish chain link fences in front of the church (my own favorite spot!?) and in the parking lot. Huge timbers that could be the framework for a Portugese Galleon war ship were used to prop up the church. All priceless artwork, statues, candles and anything that could add ambiance to the church were removed for safe keeping. Deep, dark, ugly pits were dug in the front of the church steps for historical excavation and engineering purposes then left, gaping wide open and unfilled. Lovely yellow streamers screaming "DO NOT ENTER" were freely tied everywhere on everything all the time. This was the eye popping sight to take in as the wedding party, families and guests arrived at the church!

My phone started ringing...

The brides were crying when they called me.

The grooms were going ballistic when they called because they couldn't make the brides stop crying.

The bridesmaids were calling because the bride was still crying and this was NOT the wedding day the bride had dreamed about since she was a little girl playing with Barbies.

The groomsmen were calling because they were pretty sure that the eight or ten of them could lift all the chain link fences and roofing tiles to another location in one hour. No mention that they were going to put it all back after the wedding or where exactly they were going to put it all.

The parents were calling and wondering in strong words will the construction be over in time for the wedding.

The photographers were calling and wanted to erect six 14ft tall flood lights inside the church since the lights had been disconnected.

The florists were calling and wanted to know where they were meant to drop off the flowers now that the parking lot was full of forklifts, trucks, dump trucks, fencing, roof tiles and a monolith dumpster for construction debris.

The musicians were calling because the electricians had disconnected the sound system and I needed to whip out my screwdriver and fix that immediately.

The videographers were calling because there were absolutely no good camera angles since everything was torn apart.

The Limo drivers were calling to see if they could get the city key to unlock the posts in the plaza so they could pull up to the demolition site called the Mission.

The brides were still crying when they called again.

I would have rather pounded all ten of my fingers with a hammer, stuck five red hot pokers in my eye and given myself a haircut with a buzz saw than answer one more wedding call.

I now know why Quasi Motto didn't want to come down from the Bell Tower. What a smart man! The retrofit was state mandated and the Mission was under pressure to get it completed by 2010. Having a strengthened church structurally, would guarantee a sanctuary for all during times of daily Mass, funerals and weddings. The good news is we married all the couples in our retrofit year, even if they were a little shook up about how it looked! 

Quasi Motto and I would have been great buddies; drinking cafe au lait in our delicate Limoges tea cups and licking the powder sugar off the beignets as we were locked away in our no phone Bell Tower!

"64,280 Dresses"

I have seen A LOT of wedding dresses.

And bridesmaid dresses and mothers' of the bride dresses and mothers' of the groom dresses...you get the picture! Those are more delightful stories for the future but let me share with you one of my heavenly visual confections called:

The Victoria Secret Dress

This dress is guaranteed to make all men's eyes pop out, tongue flop over, drool seep out of their mouth and nose, face turn blue from forgetting to breathe and become speechless unless you count,

"Ahh...um.....ahhhh.....ummmm.....ga.....sii......." as a conversation.

This dress makes women's lips thin, eyes turn into slits of pure jealousy, arms and legs get stiff and jerky with resentment and they are purposely speechless because even a threat of a nuclear bomb being imploded on their head will not make them gush,

"Your dress is SO sexy gorgeous and you look fabulous."

What they really want to say succinctly,

"That dress makes your boobs look small and what were you thinking with all that lace? You look like you are wrapped in gauze bandages."

 A smug smile appears as they teeter off into the church on their Vera Wang pink passion high heels.

These dresses should have a warning label on them.

Warning:

 If any breath is taken it may cause body parts to become uncovered. Public safety is threatened and bodies may fall down around you so be careful where you step. Strangers may approach you (mostly men) and use false words in regards to the dress and occupied owner of dress. Beware of zippers, button holes, hooks since their stability is determined by your bust size.

I have seen brides in these dresses and honestly, the second thing that pops into my head besides, 

"Wow" is,

 "This is soft porn going down the aisle of the Mission Church. I have to warn the priest right now!"

I scamper back to the sacristy of the Mission and pull on the arm of the unsuspecting priest into the confessional where no wedding guests, family members or tourists floating around can overhear me. I begin with,

"Oh my gosh! Your celibacy days are over today!"

The priests only reaction is for his eyes to get big and round and his mouth to form a silent, "Oh!"

"It's about the bride. Her dress is a little revealing. Actually, she is about to pop out of the top part of her dress any second. We may have a wardrobe malfunction when she sits, kneels, exchanges rings with the groom or basically does anything." I explain to him.

The priest just says,

"Oh!" 

He keeps looking at me to save his soul from instantly going up in flames when she comes walking down the aisle on her father's arm. Wanting to save him and his soul in this situation, I tell him,

"Right. Since she won't put on a shawl, overcoat or plastic garbage bag; I will tell her she must put her flower bouquet up under her chin the whole time while she is in the church. When we get to the ring exchange part, just go super super fast through that part and don't let them get all mushy and cry. Time is of the essence to get the flower bouquet back in place under her chin. By the way, did you take your heart medicine today? Do you have any smelling salts or a nitroglycerin pill handy?"

The priest promptly assures me he did take his medication and agrees to do Star Trek warp speed with the rings to get this femme fatale rapidly married.

As I position the bride at the front door of the Mission steps, a late arrival male guest lopes towards the opening. He literally skids to a stop when he spies the bride standing there and sputters,

"Wow! You look hot."

The bride giggles and I had to agree with him. She did look hot but I think on your wedding day you should be gorgeous, beautiful, glowing, breathless, ethereal, or even delectable. People around you shouldn't be worried that your two big, soft, pink and white appendages were going to pop out any second with no notice.

We made it through the wedding with the priest swiftly recovering his composure  and maintaining a healthy heart beat when he finally did see the "full glory" of the wedding dress and bride. I love all the wedding dresses in any length, shape, off the shoulder or up to the neck, satin or silk, lace or tulle, beads or buttons because it is the woman's heart inside the dress that really matters.

Email of Sweetness

As is my routine, I stumble out of bed at 5:55 am, slip out of my jammies, tug on a swimsuit, grab my striped swimming towel and leave the house without alarms, dogs or people awakening..hopefully. Throwing myself in the pool with eyes squished shut in goggles and a silent scream locked in my throat, I ask myself as I do every morning as I do this exercise ritual,

"Why am I almost naked in a huge bucket of water with strangers?"

Since I am already wet, I swim for 45 minutes, jump out quickly and sprint for the indoor showers. Another healthy day for mind, body and spirit.

Coffee is perfuming the air (if you love coffee you know what I mean by this) as I park in the driveway, dodge a few lazy cats and go inside the house swinging my now wet swimming gear wrapped in a towel. The man of my dreams always asks,

"How was your swim?"

from the big, white, shabby chic , overstuffed chair by the fireplace (also called The Throne).

Depending on how blue my lips are, I will cheerily respond,

"The water was ni.....c......e!" or

"I was drowned by some wanna-be Olympian guy." or

"I wonder how long I have had a hole in my swimsuit...in the back by my tush?!" or

"I think somebody poured lead into my arms and legs because I was pathetically slow." or

"The showers were nice and toasty warm!"

As I grab my cup of coffee or I should probably say, my cup of brown-sugar-creamer-coffee; I pause to turn on my laptop as I head to the bathroom to dry out the wet clothing. Sitting in my favorite pretty chair (I always need a pretty girlie-girl chair to solve life's problems and catastrophe's) I open up my email to find a message sent from my husband aka the man of my dreams:

Subject: I loves you.

Thanks for all you are, all you do and all you will be.

I loves you.

It would be life changing if every single man, woman and child received emails of love from their families and friends. Maybe forgiveness would come faster and easier, maybe kindness would be limitless and with no boundaries,  and maybe we all could then live a little happier and peaceful with each other. 

Please send a love email today to someone who needs to hear they are loved.