A literal and figurative crossroads

On my way to the city office after covering an event this afternoon, I wound up at an intersection I passed through countless times about three years ago.

I had just started a fling with a guy named Scott after pulling myself out of the deep dark depths of a horrific relationship that took such a toll on my mind and soul. I thought this Scott guy was pretty groovy, but heck, it was only the first couple of weeks and I was so afraid my heart would break again. I trusted, however, and it is leading me to a marriage with my soulmate in one month.

It was scary, though.

Turning left at this intersection near the final third of my 90-minute trip to Scott's house from a miserable apartment in a town and job that sucked the life out of me way more than the 40 hours I got paid a week, there was always this insane moment of apprehension and giddy excitement all at once.

'Where am I going?' I would ask myself at the next sharp turn.
I knew what direction my car was going, but definitely had no idea where my life was taking me or would take me in as little as three years.

Despite the fatal crashes, devastating house fires, suicides and increased property taxes I've dealt with at work, I love my job. I'm so lucky to do something that could impact peoples' lives in some way.

Although the stress is starting to mount, I am almost as in love with my wedding as I am with the handsome groom-to-be. I know all these silly details might get lost in the excitement of the day, but I'm sure they'll make a bigger picture that is just us to a T.

I mean, guess what?!
I'm getting MARRIED!

I'm at such a good spot in my life.
Yet, sitting, half-frozen at that intersection today, I could have crawled into a little ball in my SUV. I know that a puddle of tears could have accumulated so quickly if I let it. But I didn't.

I snapped out of the trance, looked to my right -- that old me, that old life -- and turned left, smiling at the sound of the turn signal and the images flying by in my rearview mirror.

I think I've taken the right paths so far, even though they may not have been the shortest trails or the easiest routes. They made me a better navigator in this crazy road of life.

And I'm all out of cheesy driving analogies.

This love is fireproofed.

"Fireproof doesn't mean the fire will never come. It means when the fire comes that you will be able to withstand it."

Our friend Ruby told us about this movie at a gathering in Pittsburgh a month or so ago.
"You guys have to see this movie," she said after we were complaining about little stress-inspired spats and being busy with wedding plans. "It's going to change you. It's amazing."

We nodded, smiled, went about our drinking games. I forgot about it, truth be told.
Later that week, however, Scott, being a curious guy and a good friend, found the movie when he was shopping for something or other, brought it home and set it on the dining room table.

It moved from there to the coffee table. Then to next to the TV in the living room. Then underneath the TV. Last week, I put it in the cabinet where we store our video games and Rock Band paraphernalia.

We're too busy, I thought. And I grimaced a bit when I saw that it was sort of religious-y.

Today, after HOURS of tying ribbons on bubbles and filling out thank-you cards (and DAYS of cleaning/organizing the house in preparation for my family's visit later this week), we decided we would try to make some time to relax this evening. I suggested a game or maybe watching a show on TV.

Scott surprised me and suggested a movie.
Oooooh, I thought, thinking about my unwrapped '08 Oscars movies (Rachel Getting Married... Doubt... so many choices!).
But Scott wanted to watch this movie.

I was hesitant but too tired to argue.

The movie stars Kirk Cameron (good start, right??) as a firefighter (even better, right?!) captain in the beginnings of the end of his marriage. His father gives him a dare to try out before he signs any divorce papers and gives up. It's a 40-day love dare, aimed at remembering what love is all about and how to get back to the goosebumps-in-your-stomach wheezy feeling.

The wife in the movie ignores or distrusts the first few weeks' dares (as simple as not saying anything negative... studying the other person all over again... etc.). But the husband never gives up.

And I'm not telling you anymore.

When the movie ended, I was in a sweaty, teary ball in a corner of the couch. Scott held me as tight as possible -- almost to the point where I couldn't breathe -- and then I realized he had been crying himself.

I've only ever seen him cry two times before -- both of them involved the loss of a loved one. This was a different kind of cry. A special kind I really cherish.

This movie did something to us, even if it was just wake us up to acknowledge what we had been taking for granted.

Scott grabbed the phone minutes after the credits finished rolling to call Ruby and thank her for recommending the movie.

At the last wedding we went to, the pastor gave the couple a small crucifix/cross and told them that whenever their marriage or communication should hit a hurdle one should place that cross on the pillow of the other person to let them know they needed to work on their love.

I think we'll place the Fireproof DVD on each other's pillows instead.

And the best part, for all of you shaking your heads or yawning?
We found out after watching the movie that we have exactly 40 days until our wedding.
40.

I believe. If in nothing else, I believe in our love. And our future.
And boy do I love.

Love is not a fight, but it's something worth fighting for.

I'm having an "old" moment.

I just feel ridiculously old.
OK, faithful blog readers, I know I'm not old. But c'mon, surely you've had days where you feel 10 to 50 years older than your actual age.

I think there are a lot of factors into me feeling so qualified for social security.

First off, there's been the tiring struggle with the rebellious cats. We've been locking up our culprits as we catch them red-handed, er pawed, in our downstairs bathroom. They've all had a stay. We took Eva out this morning and she hasn't moved from our bed. She's exhausted. Her sister Clara joined Rocky in there this morning and the princess is none too happy. They meow incessantly from in there -- well, when they're not busy knocking down the toilet paper or tipping the garbage can over. I heard a loud crash a while ago and just couldn't face it yet. Not until another cup of coffee.

Yesterday, I went to the dreaded gyno. Sigh. If that doesn't make you feel old AND icky, well then, I need your doctor. Actually, I LOVE my doctor. She's a cool hippie midwife and she just doesn't BS me or beat around the bush.
When I left yesterday after a discussion about... stuff (top secret), she said, "Next time I see you, you'll be an old married woman... and hopefully pregnant, too!"
Now I would be a horrible liar if I said that talking about pre-family things wasn't a main reason for this visit. With all my past health issues, I wanted a clean bill of health in all areas. Hence, the nasty wisdom teeth surgery in April. As Ashley would say, my ovaries are ready to explode! BUT no, I'm not pregnant and I hope not to be until at least October. (We may live in sin, but we like to put up appearances, ya know?) It was just hearing her say that sentence and having my head dizzied with mcg's of folic acid, yadda yadda.
There is a lot of wine left in our house to drink.

Then, last night I covered a high school graduation for the paper. It made me realize that I graduated high school SEVEN years ago -- later this month, since Jersey makes their kids miss half of the summer. SEVEN years. Oh, the things I have done since being a member of Mount Olive High School's class of 2002. I think back then I thought and hoped I'd wind up where I am today, but college changed all of that. I'm pretty sure there's a lot of people who thought they would first see me in an insane asylum at this point in my life, not in a beautiful home with pets and an amazing fiance.

And I love where I am right now, don't get me wrong. It just feels like I'm on this cusp of two worlds -- the past and the real, REAL world of marriage and family. I feel like I'm just ready to crash through the gates and wave goodbye to the little insane Wendy.

I'm ready to feel even older, I guess.

I'm all about looking hot on my wedding day, but a liquid diet was not in my plans.

Ugh.
I am getting my wisdom teeth -- all four -- out tomorrow morning.

AND I AM FREAKING OUT!

The sane half of me nods calmly and agrees, yes millions of people get their wisdom teeth out every day, and you never really hear any horror stories. Not a big deal.

Right, fine. Mmm-hmm.

But really, my other half is much more powerful. She's the half that is freaking out. Wondering why she waited so long to go through with this. Wondering if she can sue her dentist from 1999 who said she probably didn't need to worry about getting them out, you know, especially since she was on her dad's insurance at that time and all.

I'm insanely lucky because Scott will be with me every step of the way, driving me to the appointment, and back, preparing all sorts of watery delicasies, like applesauce and soup. Did I mention he bought *TWO* pints of Ben and Jerry's for me? What a good guy.

Right, fine. OK, but I'm STILL FREAKIN' OUT over here.

The oral surgeon said my bottom teeth might have roots near my nerves, but -- don't worry -- only an 8 percent chance of PERMANENT nerve damage. OH, and those top two teeth? Just a smidge too close to the sinus cavity for his liking.

Oh, and the whole anesthesia thing will be a new experience for me. I woke myself up in the middle of the night last night realizing there might be needles and blood involved. I'M DEATHLY AFRAID OF BOTH!!!

Did I mention I'm freaking out???? I AM!

Scott thought it would be really funny to tell me how during his surgery years ago, he woke up and felt pressure and heard EVERYTHING that was going on.

No more caps.
I'm just going to say that I'm really.totally. absolutely.freakin.out.

I did this to myself. I wanted to go to all the possible doctors out there (while I still have insurance...) and just get a 100 percent go-for-it good, clean bill of health for becoming a wife and then a mom at some point. But this??? This is just crazyness. I'm literally losing my mind.

And no one likes the mommy that talks to herself.

Is that baby powder I smell??

Good friends Julie and Mike texted us last night to let us know that they were officially in the hospital, being induced and anxiously awaiting the arrival of their baby girl.

Still no updates yet today, but I feel pretty comfortable saying this is the day that will change the rest of their lives -- for the better -- and the day that I become an honorary aunt!

Some people just reek of good parenting, and these two top that list. I can't wait to watch them become parents.

And over the past nine months, as Scott and I have watched them go through the ups -- wait, you're not drinking any alcohol with dinner, OMG, are you PREGNANT??? -- and downs -- an early end to work and a lengthy bed rest due to high blood pressure and then a stubborn baby who missed her due date by about a week -- we both felt our own little biological clocks, perhaps with little pangs of jealousy and wonder, tick-tock-tickin' away.

With a heavy heart and a quick glance at the clock, we trudge on, realizing our version of this dream isn't too far off. For now, we enjoy a lovely girl whose diapers we really have no obligation to change.

Although poofing baby butts with baby powder is a favorite pasttime of mine.

180 and some odd days, to be precise

We're getting married six months from today!