Did someone say mouse?

It won't surprise you to know that I'm typing finger by finger at the moment. When GM feels as though he hasn't gotten sufficient attention for a while, he curls up in front of they keyboard for some love and a quick nap. He's currently kneading my upper arm as I try to type around him. Wouldn't want to make His Highness angry. (No, really; you wouldn't. It's gruesome. Earlier this week we came home to find a bird leg, a bird stomach--cleanly and surgically removed--and several feathers. Where is the rest of this bird?! This cat is possibly a Voodoo priest.)

Before and after: modern country?

I, like everyone else, am enamored with gray right now. Though you will never, ever see a speck of yellow in my house to accompany said gray, as is the style this season. I will never have yellow walls, yellow knickknacks, yellow pillows, yellow anything.

I digress.

I've had these two antique chairs from my parents' house for years. When Chris moved in, he brought four dinning chairs, which were (A) two more than the antique chairs and (B) not all wobbly and creaky. The antique ones went outside for about a year, unused. I recently recovered the cushions, but they still look a bit country.

So I spray painted one of them glossy slate gray and bought some new cushion fabric. I likey.

Still a bit country (thanks, spindle legs), but maybe a bit updated? Though I suppose placing it next to a shabby chic hutch doesn't exactly scream "modern."

Austinversary.

April 15 is the seventh anniversary of my move to Austin. I just have to look out my window--these pictures were taken in the field next to my office--to remember why I love it here.

Spring in Texas is the best. It nearly makes up for the 6 months of summer that quickly follow.

Haunted cabin.

The view from just down the street from the cabin.

We just booked tickets for a trip to California in July for a long weekend at my parents' cabin in Twain Hart. Our  friends Tekla and Jennifer are coming with us. The last time I went to the cabin with friends, we had a blast.Plus, there are enough rooms that everyone can sleep in a bed. Maybe with a ghost, even.

Everyone knows the cabin is haunted. If you didn't know, now you're "everyone." It's haunted. I've heard something, my dad's had some weird experiences, and my mom darn-near communes with the spirits every time she's there...though she would be mad that I'm telling people this, because it's hard to talk about your ghostly encounters without sounding insane.

The little lake down the street from the cabin.

What's in a name.

Notice that is phrased as a question, not a statement.

When I decided to keep my name after getting married, it caused a minor uproar with Chris's dad, and my dad and Chris's mom, to a lesser extent. My mom was all for it, but I think it scared her a little too. It really seemed to matter only before the wedding, when it was not a fact yet. Nowadays, it hardly occurs to me at all.

My name kicks ass, and sorry, I'm not trading it in. I still feel that way. I see why people do it, and I understand the tradition, but I don't feel, personally, as if I need to change my name because I'm married. My name is my special thing.

However, I do get a laugh out of the ways that people address our mail. Most extended family go with Chris's last name for both of us, and it doesn't bother me. But I giggle any time we get mail from our mothers, since they don't seem sure how to address us. A primer:

my first name + my last name and his first name + his last name

Chris's mom just does away with last names all together. My mom puts our last names together at the end, like we're both hyphenated. When I asked my mom why she doesn't just  follow the my name + his name guidelines, she confessed that she doesn't want the mail carrier to think that Chris and I aren't married.

Again, none of this bothers me. It's a paradigm shift for people our parents' age--and maybe even our age, though less and less all the time--so I understand that it takes a little getting used to. Maybe I'll change my name when we have a kid, but these days I'm not leaning in that direction. I reserve the right to do whatever.

First anniversary.

So, we've been married a year. Hard to believe. It went by really quickly, and for the most part, really happily.

I am mostly measuring myself with the word "happily," though we are quite happy as a couple. In the weeks and days before the wedding, I was terrified. More scared than I have ever been, I think. I was scared of  giving up what I knew--my life by myself, my house to myself, myself to myself--and trading it in for something I had no idea about. I was scared to trade the known for the unknown.

That was scary for a while, really. Though I never doubted it was the right decision or that Chris was the right person to do it with. It was just all so big.

What I hadn't realized at the time was that I wasn't losing anything in the trade; rather, I was gaining immeasurably much. 

Some progress.

It's getting on till our one-year anniversary (on Monday), so I thought I'd do the time-honored thing and try my wedding dress on again. You know, for comparison's sake. I loved my dress.

This is me, as newly married as it is possible to be, April 5, 2009.

And this is me, married for a whole year now, April 2010.

As you can see, last year that dress was none too loose. Now it's a whole different dress when I put it on, and not just because the lighting. (Though I do like the color in the top picture--it's more true to the actual color of the dress.) I can practically squeeze two of me in there now. Look closer; you'll see none of the cleavage from yesteryear.

And we're all thankful for that.

I guess, like much related to that day, things have gotten better, grown different, are part of a whole new life and a whole new me. And part of the whole new me is my hair, which is as long as it's ever been. Strange to say, I feel no compulsion to cut it, either. Though it is very wavy in unruly ways, and tucking my hair behind my ears is difficult with my hearing aids on.

(It would figure that the one day I decide to take a picture of my hair 

is the day that I don't have my anti-humectant in.)

Before and After: Mirror, Mirror.

I've had my eye on this mirror at an antique/junk store. Antique/junk stores are my favorite kind of store. If you can see the potential in something that, on the surface, looks like outdated junk, the world is your oyster in one of these shops (and if you can overlook the near horder-like condition of most of these places--crammed to the gills with dusty odds and ends).

I couldn't decide on this mirror, so I told Chris about it. A round mirror with gilded gold frame of fleurs-de-lis and leaves. I could just picture it painted a glossy white and hanging in our bedroom. Two days later, he came home with an early anniversary gift me: a giant, 40-pound Victorian mirror with three panes and carved oak flowers. It was a completely thoughtful and generous gesture. And the wrong mirror. But so sweet! I resolved to find a way to incorporate this three-foot by four-foot behemoth in our house. In the meantime, we called the store and they told us we could bring it back and exchange it for the one I wanted, as they were the same price.

Before

 The mirror in its original state,
taped and papered in anticipation of the After.

After

I love the way it looks against the chocolate brown walls, 

despite the fact that I want to redo the entire room in gray.

Before (muffled) and After (loud)

Lord have mercy, the world is loud.

Yet my hearing aids are small. That's one of them, next to a quarter.

 Here's one of them in my ear. See? You can barely even tell. The over-the-ear part blends right in with my hair. It kinda obstructs my ability to tuck my hair behind my ears, but in exchange for being able actually hear you and not just grin and nod, I'll take it. (Does it look like I'm posing on an airfield? Maybe I am!)

 

Here's what I look like with them on. This is also for you to compare how different my face is, 63 pounds down. The picture with Chris is from our honeymoon, almost one year ago.

Lots of changes. All of them good.

What the world sounds like.

Since I've never had normal hearing (birth defect), I have no idea what the world actually sounds like at a normal-range hearing level. I suspect it is very loud and will cause me to want to cover my new bionic ears.

Had the hearing-aid impressions done on Friday, and I should be fitted for the hearing aids and LIVE in about 2 weeks.

All the people whose cubes are near mine and think that they barely need to whisper in order pass secrets better get ready for their worlds to get turned upside down.