A million thank you's

We are working on thank you cards for the wedding and honeymoon. It's a big job. We're nowhere near done. But it's amazing how much we have to be grateful for, and you just can't complain about that.

A couple of you heard me say this: the wedding was a seriously humbling experience for me. I spent months doing everything within my power to make sure all the details would be taken care of, and then we got there the day before and saw all the things we HADN'T managed to take care of, and it was terrifying. Suddenly it's not humanly possible to be in control anymore, and whatever is going to happen, will happen. It's a great big "trust fall" exercise. I remember feeling very exposed -- everyone's about to show up and see the good, the bad, and the ugly, and I just have to let go and let them see.

And then it just came together. People started jumping in and dealing with all those loose ends for us, frequently without our even knowing it. The folks we had asked to help did amazing jobs and a whole lot of folks we hadn't asked did too. By breakfast time on the day of the ceremony, I was able to just pay attention to being a bride and let all the other stuff happen without me. When I was sitting alone, ready, waiting for Twink to come tell me it's time for the procession, I cried, able to just sit there and be overwhelmed with how happy I was. And a huge part of that was gratitude that this wonderful crowd of friends and family had pulled together and given us the gift of this day.

It was a hell of a gift. It was a great big fabulous party and it will always be one of the best days of my life. Looking at the pictures makes me all giddy all over again. (And yes, photos will be online soon...)

When I was in the receiving line after the ceremony, hugging everyone, I remember feeling kind of silly that the only words I seemed to be able to come up with were "Thank you." If you thought to wonder whether other people got more words out of me than you did -- probably not. It's not that there weren't lots of other things to be said. But I was so full of "Thank you" I just couldn't think of anything else.

NEVER check your luggage.

Jesus Christ.

8/26 My big backpacking pack with all my clothing in it was lost by Northwest Airlines on the way home from Vancouver. So was M's bag. We filed a report at the airport.

8/29 M's bag was returned.

8/29 through 9/6 M and I called daily to Northwest's baggage office at the Albany Airport, where we had been told to call, to follow up about my bag. The automatic "check status" phone line and website unhelpfully reported that my bag had arrived in Albany and I would be contacted to arrange delivery. We got an answering machine every time, left messages with no response.

9/7 I finally found an 800 number for national Northwest "luggage irregularities." I was told that the case for both bags was closed when M's bag was found, and a message would be sent back to Albany to reopen the case. I called Albany, miraculously finally spoke to a human, and played a couple rounds of "The national office told you WE would re-open it? But they're the ones who have to do that!" Eventually I was told the woman in Albany would call me back the next day.

9/8 nada

9/9 I called Albany back. Case had not been re-opened yet. They managed to do it, and told me to call back in a few days now that they were looking for the bag, to find out if they had any luck.

9/13 I called Albany back. No luck. I asked if they would send me a claim form, which one is supposed to do after the bag is missing 5 days. (It's not available online or anything, they have to give you one.) I was told I had to wait until the case had been *reopened* for 5 business days. I called the national 800 number back to ask if they knew anything about my bag that Albany didn't know. They didn't, but at least they emailed me a claim form.

9/14 and 9/15 I spent several hours filling out their claim form with exhaustive inventory of the bag and supporting documentation. 9/15 at lunchtime I faxed it all back as I was directed to do.

9/16 I called back to the 800 number at lunchtime to confirm that they had received my fax. THEY COULD NOT DO THAT BECAUSE THE PILE OF INCOMING CLAIMS IS TOO BIG for them to be arsed to look through. I was told to call back on Wednesday to find out if it came through yet. I decided to push and ask for a manager, wanting someone to take responsibility for making sure this gets followed up on. The manager had no such power. I asked that someone call *me* back when the claim is entered. She said she would put that request on my record in the computer, but she couldn't promise it would happen. That's the best she could do. I had some words to say about how this system is not working. But I couldn't bring myself to really rip her a new one, because she sounded so miserable. Poor woman is taking shit for this company all day long.

Oh, and I hear NWA declared bankruptcy this week.

Anyone want to place a bet on whether I get anything back from them?

Yes, they were doing it on purpose.

I'm mostly avoiding wallowing in Katrina news, but damn.

Just read a first-person account by a couple EMT's who were in New Orleans for a conference when Katrina hit. I hope everyone and his brother reads this.

> As we approached the bridge, armed Gretna sheriffs formed a line across
> the foot of the bridge. Before we were close enough to speak, they began
> firing their weapons over our heads. This sent the crowd fleeing in
> various directions. As the crowd scattered and dissipated, a few of us
> inched forward and managed to engage some of the sheriffs in
> conversation. We told them of our conversation with the police commander
> and of the commander's assurances. The sheriffs informed us there were
> no buses waiting. The commander had lied to us to get us to move.
>
> We questioned why we couldn't cross the bridge anyway, especially as
> there was little traffic on the 6-lane highway. They responded that the
> West Bank was not going to become New Orleans and there would be no
> Superdomes in their City. These were code words for if you are poor and
> black, you are not crossing the Mississippi River and you were not
> getting out of New Orleans.

The good news (because I need some right about now) is that this account is also full of everyday people getting together and taking care of each other, despite the "relief" operation's best efforts.

Go read the full article.

Marty on Zipporah

Marty McConnell and her blog are well worth checking out. If you're in NYC on a Monday night, go visit Bar 13, even if you don't think you like poetry that much. This scene is definitely best experienced live.

This most recent poem on the blog is really striking to me. Mir, you should put "Miriam Cast Out" online so I can link to it here. I am now aware of 2 poems imagining Moses through the eyes of women in his life. It's a pretty different view than most of what we get, to say the least.

The writing exercise this came from, apparently:
"write a poem of instruction or command, telling someone specific how to forget you."

Sunburn from hell.

First off: The wedding and the honeymoon were both absolutely wonderful. We got back Friday. I will have more to say about that stuff, and hopefully photos online before long. In general life is very very good.

But what I really need to talk about right now is the tremendously disturbing thing that is happening to my shins.

Last Thursday, our last day in British Columbia, we went out kayaking on the edge of Howe Sound and the Squamish River estuary. It was the first time any of us had been in a kayak, and we were all surprised by how much we enjoyed it. Because we were beginners, the rental place gave us "sit on top" kayaks, because they're nearly impossible to capsize and if you do, you're not stuck inside anything. This all worked out wonderfully, except that my fishbelly-pale legs were out on the water, exposed to the sun for 3.5 hours. And no, I was not wearing sunblock.

The best I can say in my own defense on this point is that I'd had ridiculously good luck the entire rest of the trip. I didn't wear sunblock the whole time, was outside quite a bit, should have gotten mild burns several times by my usual experience, but didn't. So I was developing some kind of delusion about how the sun must not burn as much when you're this far north. And I had been wearing long pants over a bathing suit, and the weather got warmer than I expected, and I took the pants off, and we didn't have the sunblock with us, and I decided not to care. One of those decisions you don't even really think about. Except I think from now on I'll think about it.

My shins are really not OK. I have serious second-degree burns on the entirety of both shins. I had never imagined that such a thing could happen. I am not going to talk about what they look like. Blisters are involved, and bandages. It hurts, and not like a sunburn. Standing up and walking hurt a lot. My ankles are swollen. The doctor gave me Silvadene and Vicodin, and a note saying I should keep my feet up at work. I have stayed home from work 2.5 days this week so far. M & R are fetching things for me and doing all the work at home while I sit in a recliner with my feet up. This is NOT what I was planning to do when I got back from vacation!!

So, yeah, I feel pretty dumb.
And crispy.
Ow.