Week One: Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay.
I had a great time in San Francisco with my moot court team. Ashley and Drew are the best teammates one could possibly ask for! Between the morning flash card time in our hotel room and the evening crunch time in the court, the three of us strolled around the city like country pumpkins. The San Fran downtown felt so crowded, so eccentric, so busy, so wild, so glamorous, and so ridiculous.
It reminded me a lot of the city where I came from with its modernity and decadence: the LCD screens, neon light flashes, skyscrapers with elevated walkways, taxi fleet lined outside stunning hotels, and people carrying fake Louis Vuitton monogram and people clothed in tattered rags filling in the remaining space.
Blake flew to CA from Colorado after a solar conference. Before fulfilling his duty to give me a Hollywood-style swing-hug and dip kiss, he of course gave priority to the man, the myth, the legend: Mr. Bradley Miller, who is still making his weekly supply of Italian food in gigantic bulk, rocking a Corolla, meticulously folding his thousands of T-shirts, and being the wonderful godly man as he has always been.
The new additions into Mr. Miller's life include a new house in a new neighborhood with an earthquake kit composed of bottled water and an imaginary weapon; a bean bag sofa bed whose endless expansion must be activated by Mr. Miller's uniquely vigorous squatting-flpping-stomping ritual; and a girl who drives the same Corolla, excels in video games, and is as sweet as her name suggests.
Needless to say, Mr. Miller is living a good life.
Right before we left, CA sent us a seismic gift to make our experience complete. Blake immediately sprung into action from the bean bag to protect the sleep-paralyzed me.
Needless to say, I felt more safe than ever.
Week Two: People come, People go.
After the short and sweet CA trip, Blake and I immediately went back to a busy whirlwind.
A lot of what I did involved finishing school and wrapping up my last semester. By virtue of being the silly treasurer for a nearly defunct student organization, I counted numerous receipts and reimbursement requests. During this long grueling mathematically-intense process, I kept telling myself: This is the last time I'm doing this!
I turned in my OPT application and later recalled that I didn't seal the envelope.
Also, I interviewed candidates who coveted my prestigious RA position. I surely will miss the luxury of living in this lovely community and knowing so many gentle and kind souls!
I also learned that a friend was going through a terrible heartbreak. Suddenly I realized how vulnerable I was without my loved ones.
Only time can heal. But friends will make you feel better.
Remember that people come and go, and of all the people in your life, you are the one who is there to stay. You are the one who can choose to love yourself, choose to respect yourself, and promise with all your heart and soul that you will never leave you.
--Kimberly Kirberger
Week Three: It's a Small World!
We went to Disney World for spring break with Blake's parents. Blake and I joked that this is our pre-honeymoon, as we won't have the time and resolve to go on a honeymoon trip immediately after the wedding.
With my naturally timid and risk-averse propensity, I hate the feeling of losing gravity. So my itinerary excludes most rides involving falling, dropping, plunging, and dipping motions. The most I can take are some mild, harmless horizontal and vertical movements. So you can find me screaming among the nonchallant and unimpressed toddlers on trolley trains, carousels, and story book rides. I also despise people who raise their arms up on the roller coasters. What makes one truly cool is by clinging on for one's dear life like I would!
Despite my lack of appetite for adventures, I had a blast. We had wonderful food at Wolfgang Puck's and Emeril's restaurants, sipped freshly-squeezed orange and tangerine juice at a fruit stand that made me never want to go back to Simply Orange, chilled by the pool where I mummified myself under layers of towels to avoid sunburns, felt the warm sands and gentle waves under our feet on the Cocoa Beach, experienced the wonders of the Walt Disney/Universal empires, and saw big gorgeous animals getting close to us during our safari ride.
It's not a small world. But I am glad I've found you.
Week Four: Happy Birthday Love!
Last year I threw a surprise party for the unsuspecting birthday boy at Wings over Broadway. I was very proud of my scheme.
This year, I ran out of ideas. So, again, I thought about a dinner party that may or may not have a surprise element.
The timing wasn't in my favor. I sent out the mass e-mail on Thursday midnight/Friday morning, and the birthday party was set on Saturday night.
I was feeling anxious and praying for a miracle.
Well, in the end, almost all the people I contacted showed up at the Hot Pot dinner. And a couple more joined us later in the games.
Happy birthday love.
You have such wonderful friends, because you are one yourself.
Week Five: You're My Tooth Fairy!
Although the birthday plan came together seamlessly, I was still nervous and irritated for no particular reason during Blake's birthday weekend. So we sat down and talked. It turned out that I had deep-seated fear that my wedding is coming soon and I still haven't made any plans to get my wisdom teeth removed.
What a nightmare to spot a puffy, bloody, chipmunk face on the wedding pictures!
Blake and I have diverging theories on what I should do with my wisdom teeth. My mom gave me the idea that having wisdom teeth will somehow give my round babyface an Angelina Jolie-like jaw line and contour, which by the way never materialized. The older I grew, the more fearful I became of removing the wisdom teeth. Of course they were annoying: two were partially out of the gum, hurt occasionally, and often trap food residues; another one was overly erupted and the last one was nowhere to be seen. But as long as I don't have an emergency toothache, I would rather leave them alone.
Blake, on the other hand, adamantly requested an intervention to take my wisdom teeth out. He doesn't believe that an Ivy-educated person can have such backwater views on the usefulness or aesthetics of wisdom teeth.
I begrudgingly took an X-Ray of my teeth.
The result was shocking, and also quite amusing.
My bottom wisdom teeth were growing horizontally. The hidden one was overlapping the roots of another tooth.
With my all-encompassing university insurance not actually covering anything, I had to look for a dental plan on my own. That took a couple months of shopping and price-comparing.
Meanwhile, I heard a string of horror stories concerning people's unpleasant visits to the dentist's, from passing out on the dental chair to reacting badly to pain-killing medication. My naturally timid inner self resisted the idea of joining the host of victims. I externalized my fear in the form of getting mad at any sight of disorganization in my life, as if it were the incriminating evidence of my weakness, procrastination, and irresponsibility.
With a mixed feeling of guilt and frustration, I finally decided to buckle myself down, take a day off from work, call an insurance company, get a quote on procedures, make a dental appointment, print out the discount plan card, and look at fear right in the face.
My dental appointment was a stress test. The first thing I heard/saw was a morbid video on why wisdom teeth were evil and mercilessly destroying lives. Then came my dentist. With a mere glance at the X-Ray, he announced that all my wisdom teeth were impacted and should be taken out all at once, and the operation would involve an intravenous injection, cutting open part of my jaw bone, and potentially affecting my sinus cap.
I didn't even know what those things mean. But they all sound TERRIFYING!
As an undermedicated, underoperated Chinese, I don't think I have ever broken any bone in my body. Stop cutting my bone you evil people!
But again, it's bloody now or bloody at the wedding. That's a no-brainer. So I took the open spot the next day. Blake reassured me over and over again: I will nurse you back to health.
Indeed, he is the best nurse EVER. He got all my prescriptions, reminded me to change gauze pads, replaced my ice pads every 20 minutes, fed me apple juice, and tucked me into bed. He deserves a civilian medal for everything he has done for me.
My fellow RA Trianna offered to cover my Friday program. The residents at the happy hour gave me tons of recovery tips. What's more, Blake's parents sent me get-well-soon balloons.
So much love, so much care, so much friendship.
In my humble opinion, March madness is better than a honeymoon.
