The big day

It really was the happiest day of my life.  While there were more tears shed that day than any other, they were tears of joy and happiness.  It went by so fast as I was told it would.  It felt like it was happening to me, rather than as as planned--not to say that it ran wildly out of control--it definitely didn't.  I don't even have any words. Perhaps I'll just capture pieces at a time.
...

Find the pieces under the wedding label.

Look no farther

Malcolm did some research and took me out to a surprise venue for a romantic honeymoon dinner in Bangkok.  When we arrived at the destination, I learned that he'd chose SMITH restaurant on Soi 49, Sukhumvit.

   "I read that their steak tartare is really good so you  might want to try that," Malcolm told me. I was SO game.

The inside of the restaurant matched the metallic outside.  The exterior was a nondescript building of corrugated metal.  The interior had metal seating everywhere, wrought iron details, and a section with meath -hooks hanging from the ceiling.  Funky photo-portraits decorated one of the few walls of exposed brick.  The lights were low to set the atmosphere while the in-house DJ spun old-school R&B; forgotten singles by TLC and All Saints threw us into a nostalgic mood.

Everything on the menu looked delicious and we decided to order accordingly.  Malcolm let me place my order first: I asked for the fresh oysters (3) and the steak tartare (of course!) to start, the pasta special as my main, and a side order of brussel sprouts.

Apparently the server wasn't accustomed to inquisitive Canadian appetites because she took that to be our entire order and left. Malcolm and I caught each other's eye and laughed before beckoning her back to take Malcolm's order of mussels and sea bass.  Turns out she had to return a final time because they'd run out of mussels and we had to fill that (obviously) gaping void in our giant order to sate our appetites.

The food came and we tucked in.  We were not disappointed.  I was pleased to try caviar with my oysters and was delighted when my steak tartare was arranged as a sunrise (or sunset) on my plate.  Malcolm's salad was the best he'd had - "I could eat this everyday!" - and our mains were delicious.  Admittedly, I think I enjoyed Malcolm's sea bass with buttery foam a little more than my tortellini.

As we dined, Malcolm shared another tidbit with me.

   "Apparently the chef and owner of this restaurant is the Iron Chef of Thailand."
   "That's awesome! What else did you read from the reviews."
   "That was it."
   "There were no more?"
   "No; after reading that they served good steak tartare and that it was by Iron Chef Thailand, I knew you'd like it for sure, so I stopped reading."
   "Fair enough."

He knows me so well.  Perhaps the way to my heart is also through my stomach.

We ended our perfect evening by sharing a banana split (the bananas were fired like the tops of crème brulée!) that was delectable and then left for home and a massage - extremely satisfied but not too full.  It was perfect honeymoon dining with my husband (husband!).

What'cha doin'?

Hi.

We're alive.  :)

We made it through a lot and I HAVE been writing about it, but in the good old fashioned way with pen and paper (my pen actually died before we even left Malaysia).  Here's what we've made it through so far:

• we got married (amazing wedding, amazing party, many happy tears)
• we flew to Malaysia
• I averted a pickpocket attempt on Malcolm in the airport (by kicking someone, no less)
• we took the Canadian family around KL to see things and stuff them full of food
• we had another wedding tea ceremony (amazing family, more happy tears)
• we had another wedding reception (oh, the FOOD!)
• we flew to Bangkok
• I got over food poisoning from the airplane food on that first glorious night
• boys went fishing, girls went shopping (though I really had to concentrate to get my poisoned shit together for two days following)
• we ate FOOD
• honeymooned in Krabi - I didn't want to leave
• returned to Bangkok
• I avoided another pickpocket attempt (this time a motorbike purse-snatcher) by having my wits about me...though I wish I'd managed to kick another someone else in this instance
• we got massages
• I caught a cold that I booted after a glorious day of sleep mixed with cable TV
• we bought stuff
• we ate stuff
• we ate more stuff
• we're going to eat more stuff

Of course there are more details, but those will come later. I think I need to go sit by the pool for a bit. :)

The honeymoon diet.

Step 1: eat bad airplane food.
Step 2: throw up all the food you've eaten in the past 24 hours.
Step 3: expel any remaining food, liquids and nutrients anyway your body allows.

I don't have a scale, but I'm guessing you'll drop at lest 4 to 5 pounds via this method.  Also throw in some non-eating days due to food grossing you out while at the same time going on full day shopping excursions because you're too stubborn to ruin the trip for anyone else and that'll probably help a bit too.

Well, I WAS a little worried about the bikini bod, but this was a little surprise jump-start to getting back on track...
...

   "Oh my god I threw up so hard I gave myself an ab cramp!"

1. Abs can cramp individually?
2.  I have abs?!

It's gettin' hot in hurr

I checked the weather for Thailand - 33°C daily, though it's going to feel like 47°C.

I don't even know why I'm packing clothes.

What's in a name - part 2

On the Saturday before our Malaysian wedding reception, all of Malcolm's aunts and uncles poured into the house to greet us, to eat, and to start the celebrations early.  With Malcolm's mom being the eldest of eight siblings, and with many children and grandchildren running around already, there were a LOT of new faces to meet.

As they all arrived in a steady stream of bodies, I passed some helpful advice to Brodder that I'd learned myself the previous two times this had happened to me.  It was a great survival tip and he appreciated it.  Later, Like-a-boss-Lee asked Brodder if the evening had been overwhelming with all of that new family.  He gave away the secret tip:

   "Actually, once melody told me not to worry about the names and just to call everyone 'Auntie' or 'Uncle,' it was okay."

Making a point

I somewhat recall waving a marshmallow skewer around that night, pointing the business end of it at TCHC, demanding him to make up his mind (about a girlfriend of mine) and to get his shit together about the other aspects of his life.

I was given more information than I had bargained for.  And an onion.  I was also given an onion. 

Name that song

There's a song that always makes me think of my brother in-law, LaBLee, every time I hear it.  It was his ringtone the first time I met him and it always made me laugh because LaBLee was more often than not all dressed up for/from work and he was always polite and cordial.  But then his phone would ring and this badass gangsta anthem would play and totally knock down this facade.  While I always recognized the "LaBLee" song whenever I heard it, I could NEVER, for the life of me, remember the actual name of the song, despite its popularity and it being a hit with everybody.

Then, of course, I wanted to play the song at the wedding party and dedicate it to my new brother in-law, and of course I couldn't remember the title of it as usual.  However, I wanted it to happen, so I did some research.  I scoured the dance floor for reliable sources and proceeded to shout my questions at them over the music.

   "Dimps!"
   "What?"
   "What was the name of the song that was LaBLee's ringtone?"
   "Oh my god I know it!  Oh god, what is it called?"
   "I don't remember!"
   "Me neither, but I know it!"
   "Ack!  Uh, Yapper!" I called to another friend.
   "Yeah!" he danced his way over.
   "You know that song: 'to the windows, to the wall...'"
   "'...til the sweat drips down my balls...!'"
   "Yes!  What's that song called?!"
   "I can't remember!"
   "Dammit!"
   "Someone will know."
   "I know.  Kee!" I called to another friend.
   "Yeah!"
   "What's the name of the song: 'to the windows, to the wall...'"
   "'...till the sweat drips down my balls, and all these bitches crawl...!'"
Then bystanders joined in, shouting,
   "'...to all skeet skeet muthafuckas! All skeet skeet aw damn...!"
   "Yes!  What's the name of that song?!"
   "I don't know!"

And so it continued.  I think it was finally Señorita's brother that finally came through for me in the end and I managed to request and dedicate the song.  And then it was played and the entire dance floor exploded.  To the windows, to the wall, EVERYONE knew ALL the words and went nuts...and I bet none of us remembered the title afterwards either.

"Get Low" - and we did.

What we did wrong

   "We spent all of that time worrying about what to do if BGoa showed up when we should have been working about Number1."

   "You know how at family events, everyone has 'that uncle?'" Well, Number1 is ours."
...

This Number1 managed to have a few too many and then proceeded to do things to peeve other family members during the reception.  He aggrandized himself to my in-laws, and then monopolized my photographer for his own, choice family photos--favourites only (funny, I wasn't in those ones...), only to then give the photographer a lecture about how he didn't know how to be a photographer, how he charged too much, and how Number1 could do a much better job himself.

To say the least, my photographer became one of those on the list that Number1 peeved that night.  In a moment of heated venting of words, I waved Brodder over to the head table for damage control.

   "DO something with him!" I hissed a whisper in Brodder's ear, motioning to Number1.  And I guess he did, because I didn't hear about Number1 anymore that night.

I told this story two months later to my co-worker who had his wedding just two weeks after mine; we were laughing, sharing the unplanned-event notes from our wedding.

   "So what happened to your uncle?"
   "I don't know, but I know that my brother took care of it."
   "Have you seen your uncle since your wedding?"
   "Actually, no, I haven't."
   "Maybe your brother 'took care' of it alright..."
   "Maybe I should ask him what happened..."
   "Maybe you should."
...

In case you're curious, Number1 appeared at Christmas dinner. :)

The origins of the onion

Our wedding day was filled with joyous tears.  A lot of them.  I think Malcolm started it.  And I love him all the more of it.  Anyway, to excuse the constant welling ups, Malcolm made the comment - multiple times - that someone in the building must have been cutting onions.

When it came time for our speech together to everyone, we were no exception to the tears.  Just as the tears started up, I was distracted by a body sneaking through the crowd towards us.  I realized it was TCHC just as he slunk up to the head table, but had no clue what he was up to.  Nearly sidelining me from what I had to say, his purpose came to light a moment later.

He wordlessly placed an onion - what turned out later to be THE onion - on the podium and slunk away again with just a quick nod at Malcolm.  Malcolm presented the onion to the audience.

"Here's the culprit!"

There was laughter and more love.  And more tears, even though that onion remained whole the rest of the night.

The walk out

The day was just running away.  At the start of it, I'd decided I'd just relinquish all control and just let it all happen.  I'd done all that I could leading up to this day, it was time to let the planning fall into place.  I guess because of that, I'd managed to keep calm all day.  My emotions were on an even-keel, despite the fact that I was counting down the mere hours and then minutes left to the most important moment of my life.  Infrequent time-checks got my pulse pumping periodically, but without a constantly visible clock to tick the minutes away, I was okay.  Even putting the dress on was still just "getting dressed" in my brain.

Was I just going to go through the motions of this "big day" like any other day?

Hair up, makeup done, dress on, I was ushered down the hall to the room that was to connect me to my path down the aisle.  Alone with just Señorita, she arranged my train behind me--but I was still okay.

And then my dad entered the room and as the door closed behind him as he scooted in, I caught a glimpse of those outside waiting for the ceremony to start, and I thought I was still okay.

Suddenly, I was shaking.  That was the moment it all hit me--I was about to get married.  I heard "Cello Suite 1" start to play - Señorita's cue - and then the moment - my moment - was suddenly racing towards me in fast forward.  And then it was my turn.  We'd planned for a dramatic pause between Señorita's song and mine to put the audience into a state of suspense, and that plan was backfiring on me - I was cracking under the anticipation.  When the song finally began - "Air on the G String" - I was glad to have dad's arm to hold on to.
...

Down the aisle
I recall walking down the aisle and trying to look at everyone as they looked at me; I think that was someone's advice to me, but I couldn't quite remember at that moment.  It was amazing to me that everyone was there for me - it really was my day.

Close to the end of the aisle, I finally met Malcolm's eyes.  Already there were tears running down his face.  His tears weren't alone for long.

The formal words were a blur; I remember repeating after Alex, our officiant, I remember accidentally putting the ring on Malcolm a little too early, I remember he had to wipe away tears from both of our faces more than once.  I remember that even with the words to hear and repeat, and even with all of those people watching, we managed to share private moments together in the moments before becoming husband and wife.

I remember just being so happy.

The WiFi

The data reception at the venue was spotty at best, but in the bridal suite, it was non-existent.  However, I noticed there was WiFi available and so I asked someone to see if they could get the password so we could stream some music.  Some time later, Brodder got an internet stick that he delegated Lingmon Guy to get working for us.  Some time after that last update, Lingmon Guy entered the bridal suite with only his phone in hand.

   "I'm sorry, I just couldn't get the USB internet thing to work on your laptop."
   "That's okay, no worries."
   "In lieu of the ability to stream music, I shall serenade you."
   "Aw, LMG, that's okay," I reassured him from my seat on the floor with my makeup artist, Charming.  As he made his way past us into the corner of the room she commented,
   "He's so funny."
A moment later, we heard LMG's voice.
   "When I was young..."
   "What?"
   "...I never needed anyone..."
   "What are you doing?"
   "...and making love was just for fun..."
   "Oh my,"
   "...living alone, I think of all the friends I've known..."
   "LMG, you don't have to do that,"
   "...when I dial the telephone..."
   "Is he singing?"
   "...nobody's home..."
   "Yes, yes he is."
   "...All by myself...don't wanna be: all by myself. Anymore..."

Well, we can't say we didn't have music.
...

Unbeknownst to anyone, when mom packed up the bridal suite, she found the venue's USB internet stick and, thinking it belonged to one of us, she packed it up and we brought it home.  It wasn't until we were packing to leave for Malaysia that I realized what had happened.  I sent at text to my ever-reliable wedding coordinator:

Me - we stole their wifi
Brodder - Oops.  It didn't work anyway.

True.

What's in a name?

Both of the mothers were scheduled to arrive later that morning which left the bridal suite filled with just us young girls - the only married one was our makeup artist and she had only had her wedding a little over a month before mine.

Thank goodness the moms weren't there.

The topic of conversation was about what to do with your maiden name.  Señorita and my makeup artist, Charming, were of Hispanic/Filipino tradition: their names consisted of both their mother's maiden name and their father's last name: Señorita Looking For Fun, and Charming Iss Living Talent.*  Their tradition followed that at marriage, they would drop their mother's maiden name and adopt their husband's family name; Señorita would lose "For" and Charming would lose "Living."

*obviously these names are made up, but the initials are (pretty much) true for illustrative purposes.

However, while Charming and I both wanted to take our husbands' names, neither of us wanted to lose any of the ones we already had.  After some excited discussion, the suggestion was made to just smash our maiden names into our already existing middle names and take our married names as our solitary last name.  That made me Melody Amazing Choiceto Love, and Charming Iss Living Talent Sublime.  The difference was that to do this, we'd require a legal name change versus just assuming his last name.  And then came the comment from Charming:

   "My name is going to be so long!"
   "But it'll be worth it - you get to keep everything AND get a bad-ass last name to boot.  Just get it legally changed."
   "Yeah, you're right.  And while I"m at it, I should just switch my second and third names so my initials will be 'CLITS.'"

I died.
...

I shared this story with Brodder and we had a laugh.
   "That's like 'Coors Light Iced Tea,'" he pointed out.
   "Oh my god, it is!  Someone didn't think that one through."
   "Or maybe they did.  And it gets funnier the drunker you get - 'I'd like some more CLIT, please!'"

Oh gawd.

Stylin'

With the big day only 64 days away, Malcolm and I have been GSDing on high mode (Getting Shit Done).  While his suit is being custom tailored, we thought we might just see what it would cost to buy just a vest off the rack.  With this in mind, we stopped into Moore's Formalwear to see what they had. I went in and inquired with one of the saleswomen.

   "Excuse me, do you sell any vests?"
   "We mostly rent, but we do have a few. I have them in black and cream."
   "Great, can we take a look?"
   "Of course, they're just over here," she led us to the rack of vests and took a look at what was on display. "Oh, it looks like I have one more colour of vest as well..."

OMG.

Well, we ARE getting married out under the trees in a forest...and I like that it comes with the pre-tied tie and bowtie so that not only do you have options, but you don't have any hassle to worry about when it comes to putting it on.

Who IS this guy?

Usually, once the proposal has happened and she says "yes," the stories go that the guy starts to take it easy after that - he's got her, why keep up the effort?  I know that happened in the case of one friend of mine (though in that case, they never got to the wedding stage...whew).  But for me, it's been the opposite.

Malcolm proposed last year and my weeping mess of myself said yes.  Since then, instead of lazing back and taking it easy, Malcolm's gone ahead and kicked it up a notch.

Now, when he takes care of dinner, he not only puts it together (after cooking or whatnot), he cleans up after.  Instead of just tossing the laundry into to dryer, he does the ironing! Instead of just rooting through the clean laundry basket while it's still downstairs, he carries it up to the room and puts some away!  He's the one that drags me out for exercise. 

Who is this guy?!

Gotta say, I like it.  :)

Love/hate relationship

And the wedding planning begins.  Part of the planning (a big part) is the budgeting.  I already know this wedding is going to put us in the poor house, but what wedding doesn't?  In an attempt to save money now, I've recommited myself to bringing all of my food and drinks to work from home, refraining from having to buy them each day (not that I was always buying food/drinks, but every little bit helps).

The only thing now is that when I have food cravings that aren't for what I've brought with me, I get sad.  :(  But it's all for a good cause - my cause - OUR cause. 
...

Dear Sushi,

Don't you worry - I will devour you another day...when I've saved up enough money to do so.

love,

melody