Paper Anniversary

I have to admit: I was stumped.

I champion myself a pretty decent gift giver. I love everything about gift giving: the shopping, the selection of just the perfect thing, the wrapping (especially the wrapping). I keep a gift list for my near and dears of thoughts, likes or various things that might have been mentioned so that when it comes time for a gift, I have an inspiration book of sorts. I'm not saying that I always get it right-- I hope that the recipient enjoys the getting as much as I like the giving; but I do get a lot of pleasure out of giving gifts just the same.

So when it came to the all significant 1st wedding anniversary gift, I was all gung-ho at first to find just the perfect gift. Of course, it had to be memorable, emotional-- something that we'd keep for the rest of our lives as a symbol of our marriage (no pressure or anything). Okay-- not really; but I did want it to be something significant, and something MRN would love.

Then enter the theme: Paper. Ummm-- waaah?

Apparently, the all significant first anniversary is pretty much an analogy for marriage and relationships in general-- in the beginning, it's pretty flimsy and easily torn apart; but the longer it lasts, the stronger it becomes and the harder it is to break-- hence the precious metals and stones start appearing after year 20. Right...

For someone buying a gift for me, paper is like striking pay dirt. Because I LOVE all things paper. Stationery, books, wrapping paper, cards... you can pretty much get me any of those and I'd be a happy girl (in fact, MRN did, gifting me with beautiful cloth covered classics of Bronte and Dickens, to name a few). But for a man? What do you get a man that's made of paper??

An extensive Internet search yielded few creative results: 1st Anniversary; 1st Anniversary Gift; 1st Anniversary gift for men. A whole lot of un-inspiration is what I got. Of course stationery was suggested (ummm-- how many men in your life do you know who would appreciate personalized stationery, or better yet-- actually use it?). Then there was concert tickets (okay, yes-- technically MADE out of paper... but, come on!), a message in a bottle (huh? and, cheesy?), a star (the certificate printed on paper), a calendar. You get my drift.

But then, divine intervention (well, someone must have been watching over me). A Daily Candy e-mail arrives in my inbox with, lo and behold: A profile of London-based artist Rosalind Freeborn who happens to make portraits out of torn pieces of paper. Eureka!

After perusing her website I contacted the wonderful Ros and a collaboration began. It started as a double portrait, with her choosing one from our official photographs and doing a preliminary sketch. For portraits she likes to include things that people love as the background-- given this was to be a wedding portrait, we exchanged e-mails about our favorite things about the wedding (which I covertly got from Mark with random questions at random times). For me: the rich colors, the flowers, the food and, of course, the paper. For Mark: The location (above all else), and his traditional English morning suit (go figure). Then, another light bulb moment. The portrait is being constructed from paper-- and it wouldn't be me if I hadn't saved loads of the stationery from the wedding. I had left-overs of everything from invitations and reply cards to menus, monogrammed candy bags, ceremony programs and even postcards of the location. I asked Ros if she might want to incorporate some of the stationery into the portrait and her enthusiastic response sent me packing a box to send to London.

The result is absolutely stunning (well, I think so, anyway). I'm in awe of her talent and being able to construct something so wonderfully beautiful, sentimental and creative from torn pieces of paper. Not only did she actually make us look like, well, US, but she was able to use the left over stationery, that would have otherwise sat in a box in a closet, in such a way that we'll get to enjoy it forever. My favorite part? My beautiful lace dress that she recreated using bits of our invitation and the ceremony programs-- so that all the wonderfully special people who were part of our day are also part of the portrait.

Mark was entirely surprised, and stunned into silence. I was thrilled to be able to surprise him, and we were both thrilled with the result. She hadn't thought of promoting her work as a potential paper anniversary gift, so she's discovered a whole new market! She's going to showcase us on her website but I wanted to help spread the word. I think it's such a neat idea for gift or personal purchase of any kind. But it seriously ups the anty for a first anniversary gift (if I do say so myself). While you certainly don't have to supply the paper, for all of your closet paper savers, doesn't it make you want to send along for your very own portrait?

Trouble in River City

I have issues. It centers around dirt. And my huge aversion to it.

For a while I thought that I might have OCD*. When I see dirt, mess and clutter in the house, I have a physical reaction to it. My body tenses up and my blood starts to boil. MRN says that he can see it building up and he hightails it to either tidy or to get out of the room (the latter is probably the better option...). I try to hold it in-- I know that it's happening, and know that it's irrational but I can't help it. I hate dirt and I hate things to be dirty.

This does not bode well for a super handy and wonderful husband who is single-handedly renovating our really old house.

Yes-- rationally I do understand (and endlessly appreciate) that construction yields mess. And that all the mess is for the good and it's making this house more live-able (and ultimately sale-able). And the fact that MRN does the work himself saves us loads and loads of money. And the reality is-- he is NOT messy. He's extremely, extremely clean, in fact. He always, always cleans up the building mess and he even does laundry and cleans the bathroom (well, every once in a while). He's actually a much more thorough cleaner than I am. But even with all this, when the dust, dirt and grime starts blowing all over my clean house, I go a little crazy (okay-- a LOT crazy).

The most recent blow-up (it really is the only time we argue-- and poor MRN, it's due to my crazy) was about dirt from a project he did in the attic. He was fitting a new fan in the bathroom and spent 2 days in the cramped and really, really dirty attic / on the roof putting in new ducts, vents and the lot. And there was dirt EVERYWHERE-- all over the walls, dark streaks an inch thick ground into the tan carpet in the hall and all the way down the stairs-- all over the kitchen-- floors, counters, EVERYWHERE. Even though the sane side of me knows that it has to be done and it's going to make our house so much better (and fix the damp problem we have upstairs due to the lack of an extractor fan in the bathroom), I only saw red (or in this case-- black). I needed to clean. MRN's argument is that you wait until the end-- or else the project takes forever. My argument is that you clean as you go-- it saves time at the end and creates less mess that you can't get out at the end. I've even tried to clean while he's doing the work, but it drives him crazy (and admittedly, I can get in the way and stop progress altogether). An argument I will lose every time.

Soooo-- in order to appease my crazy, MRN thought it would be a good to take our fancy vacuum in the attic to, well, vacuum some of the dust away. Disaster. Not only did it break the vacuum-- it actually created MORE mess, with the exhaust fan from the vacuum blowing more dust out of the attic into the house. Plus it clogged up the filters making it unusable and covered the actual vacuum in filth. Good intentions... poor results. Now, my shoeless house is so dirty that my feet are black from walking around-- despite scrubbing the floors. Ugggghhhhh... not good for my crazy.

On a happy note, reading the vacuum manual I was not only able to fix the vacuum myself (go me and the DIY) but also discovered that the whole darned thing comes apart so you can SCRUB IT CLEAN!! MRN came home to me doing just that... and it looks brand new (to his credit, he just shakes his head and stays quiet. I'd like to think it is because he is affectionately bemused, but I think it may be more him wondering what he's gotten himself into with me). Once the filter is dry (12 more hours), I should be able to vacuum up the rest of the dust (come on Dyson! You can do it!). Bonus? I think this recent bout of crazy has finally justified a carpet cleaner to boot.

The lesson? Happy wife=Happy husband.

*Don't worry-- concerned that I had OCD, read a bunch of books about it a few years ago and have self-diagnosed that I do not; I'm just really, really, really--annoyingly so, anal.

Coming down

With all the excitement and stress that comes with wedding planning, the weeks after are a huge let down. It was an amazing process and day-- and gosh, my amazing sister who executed the entire extravaganza. She gave me my dream wedding with all the talent, generosity of spirit and kindness that anyone could ever give. She has an amazingly unselfish heart, my sister, and I'm so blessed that have someone in my life that loves me that much. Unconditional love isn't just from parent to child! My sister taught me that.

In all, I have to admit that the post-wedding blues have gotten to me. Maybe in part it's because all the chaos that has been my life for the last few years (whirlwind romance, move to a new country, new job, engagement, wedding...) has finally come to a close and I'm a bit restless and in a "what's next" mood. I think a big part is that I have to now focus on the other stuff that's been easy to bury, like the fact that I'm super dissatisfied with my dead-end job, and am overwhelmed by the prospect of having to look for a new one. Not that I have to... but I've always been an over-achiever, and I am not happy with the fact that I am underutilized, unchallenged and my quickly rising career has gone backwards since taking the job in England.

With all the wedding hoopla, I also realized how very much I miss my family and friends... and that I'm lonely for them. It was the best thing in the world to have all the people that I love best in the world all in one place (minus my wonderful Kristina who had a good excuse-- 8 months pregnant!). I don't like that time zones make it impossible to talk to most people; that I can't go to lunch or shopping with my mom on a random weekday after work; that Kristina and I can't go for a walk down Michigan Avenue under the guise of returning stuff, but really because we want to go shopping (and so I can show her that you really CAN get great stuff on sale at Anthropologie); that I can't be a third wheel with Jen and Eddie on a Sunday afternoon to Costco... that I can't just sit in my sister's living room coloring with my beautiful nieces and stealing cuddles (and learning a heck of a lot from those little things who are WAY smarter than their old aunty). I adore my amazing husband... and now in the calm after the storm, I suppose we have to together figure out...

What next?

Cheer Up!

After a miserable day spent suffering and recovering from the stomach flu, I walked into the bedroom to find this little scene. The small teddy bear (MRN's might I add-- a little souvenir from the Orient Express that he will kill me for revealing...) hugging my 34-year old lion that my grandmother gave me when I was born; and little owl and big giraffe lining up behind him for a hug. Especially touching was that MRN had to go around the house to collect these little treasures from different rooms (no, I'm not one to collect / keep stuffed animals... just the few you see here with particular sentimental value).

It did indeed cheer me up.

Secret Camera