Name Change

So I got home last night from class around 1o and of course Joy was fast alseep on the couch, papers and books surrounding her. I woke her up and the first thing she said was, "Can I ask you a question?" I immediately thought I was in trouble and my mind began to frantically think of what I could have done wrong. She then continued, "I read your blog today about the Italian neighbors. I just wasn't sure why you kept calling her 'Lavinia'?"

You see, the name of the woman across the hall is not Lavinia. Her name is Isabella. Lavinia is the name of the mom that I stayed with in Italy. I tend to confuse their names often. But yes, her name is Isabella, which is also quite pretty. Thank you Joy for the accurate proofing of my text.

In other news, today is Groundhog Day and also my brother's birthday. Nate Dogg is now 26 years of age. Happy Birthday, my little Philippino brother. Have some egg embyos for me as part of the celebration.

Italian Update

Remember when I was moving into my apartment and hear some Italian through the walls? Remember when I met the Italians that live directly accross from us?!

Well, things have been progressing BEAUTIFULLY since Joy and I have actually been living in our aparment. Here is the run-down:

• On one Saturday morning, Lavinia, the mother, came knocking on our door. I was at work, but Joy was home. Lavinia gave her a piece of danish-type bread that she had made that morning. When I came home, we ate the bread and, of course, it was fantastic. So, trying to encourage this relationship, I got out a piece of paper and wrote a thank-you note in Italian and slipped it under their door. In about an hour, there was another knock on our door and Lavinia was standing there with another plate in hand. In my Italian note, I had written, "thank you for the bread" because I didn't know how to say sweet-bread. Well, Lavinia wanted to make sure that we understood that was she had given us earlier was a sweet ("dolce") and was not bread ("pane"). So, to help us understand, she gave us a plate of actual bread. This was even better than the sweet-bread. It was still warm, had bits of ham baked on top, and was truly amazing.
• A few nights later, Joy and I decided we should return the plate to the Italians. It was about 9:30 and when we knocked on the door, both Lavinia and Roberto were there. (Roberto is rarely seen since he is usually working.) Well, in good Italian fashion, they invited us in, immediately offering us beer and wine, pizza, chips, and nuts. The kids were all asleep, so the four of us sat around their kitchen table and fumbled our way through language, often relying on our bodies more than our tongues. These two people are so kind and funny. We ended up leaving around 11 or so and were certainly encouraged in our developing relationship as well as reminded of our desperate need to start practicing each others' languages.
• Last Saturday, after two weeks or so of no significant contact, I decided it was time to try to hang out with the Italian kids some. Lavinia (who we learned is actually Polish) and Roberto (who is the Italian) have three children: Armando (5), Vanessa (3), and perhaps showing in name the transition to America: Daisy, who is just a babe. Well, Joy was going to make French toast when we finally got up around 10 and I thought we might as well see if our neighbors wanted some. And believe it or not, they did. Roberto was at work, but the others all came to our apartment, including Lavinia's mom who also lives with them. We were all in our pajamas and the kids were running around our place as we got the breakfast ready. We ate our breakfast (we aren't too sure if they actually liked our French toast and we learned that the kids don't like syrup) and then sat around talking for a while. Of course, the kids' attention span had expired (especially since they couldn't really communicate with us. I don't think Armando quite understands that we don't actually speak Italian...) and so I put in the movie "Pinocchio." This is the Italian version with Roberto Begnini ("Life is Beautiful") and of course, the movie is known to be horrible, but the kids just jumped on the couch and enjoyed being able to watch something in a language they understood. When everyone left, little Vanessa gave Joy and I little kisses. She's a precious one.

Needless to say, we love our neighbors. I am newly inspired to practice this language that I love and really enjoy hearing about their time in America, both exhilerating and frustrating to them. Even yesterday, they rememberd that it was Joy's birthday and Lavinia brought over a piece of some lavish layered dessert. We are soon to have dinner with the Italians and perhaps I will taste those flavours that we try to emulate but always seem to fall just a little bit (but remarkably noticeably) short. Who knows, perhaps soon we'll all be on vacation together in Tuscany. Believe me, I'm working on it....

The Lambs

Sometimes I have a hard time letting people be who they are. Let's take my wife for example. I have known from the day I met Joy that she does NOT like scary movies. The first movie we ever saw with a group of friends was Signs, and she barely made it through. Over the time I've known her, I've tried to get her to watch some movies here and there (she still won't see any Lord of the Rings movies), and sometimes she does after I don't take her protesting seriously. So this weekend Joy and I were hosting some guests (yeah Ginna, Emma, Eric, and Andrew!) and we wanted to watch Silence of the Lambs. Now, I love this movie. It's freaky and smart and all sorts of things that make it good. And yes, at the end, I get tensed up every time. Well, needless to say, Joy absolutely did not want to watch the movie. But eventually I convinced her and we all sat down to watch. She was doing really well for the first half of the film, and then she just didn't want to see any more, so she went to the bedroom. As I was thinking about it later, I realized that I knew in advance that Joy wouldn't like this movie, that she didn't want to watch it, yet it was because of my constant persisting that she eventually gave in. I wonder if I'll ever learn and just be content in letting her not like scary movies and not try to get her to watch them or tease her because she doesn't like the same kind of movies as I do. It may seem like a small thing, but I have a feeling a lot of this marriage thing will come down to learning what it means for me to let her be herself and not what I want her to be in all these small areas of life. Either way, it's still a really great movie. And no, the lambs haven't stopped screaming yet.

Wedding and Back

Well, I’m back to my blog. And this time, when I come back, I’m a married man. I’m assuming if you’re reading this, you probably already know that I got married on December 17. Let’s just say it was an AWESOME day. It really is an incredible thing to look out over the people gathered together and see how many people have been a part of your life. And goodness, I have been ridiculously blessed by the people in my life. I remember standing in the back hallway with my best men and then remember watching my other groomsmen walk down the aisle with the bridesmaids, and I was just blown away by these men and how much I love each one of them. Then there are my ushers, the family, the other friends and supporters. Wow. That’s a lot of love.

On the day after the wedding, Joy and I had a brunch with her family and then did Christmas with my family while my brother, Nate, was in town from the Philippines. On Monday morning Joy and I flew to Mexico, where we spent 11 AWESOME days! Honestly, it was about the most perfect honeymoon ever and when we left, we were pretty sure we wouldn’t change much of anything. We did some snorkeling at a reef, kayaking, went snorkeling in some cenotes (underground, filled with water caves), went on ATV’s, and of course, sat on the beach a lot and slept even more. The weather was perfect, the water amazing, and I even got caught up on some pleasure reading. Christmas on the beach was a little different, but I could probably get used to it if I had to.

When Joy and I got back to Chicago, we both got sick. Me first, and then she followed. The day after we got back we drove to Iowa for the glorious Ben Harrison/Laura Metzger wedding and then had another wedding in Chicago on New Years Eve. Then we had our first post-wedding overnight guest come to Apt. C (yeah LaBianca!) before Joy jumped into teaching for another semester. I had more time off than she, so spent some time making returns and exchanges, running errands, writing thank you’s, and of course, getting our apartment ready for living.

Now I’m in my second week of classes and as of today, Joy and I have been married for one full month. We don’t have the internet at our apartment, so I’m a little nervous regarding my blog updating, but I’ll do my best. Thanks for reading. I promise I'll be back soon.

Snoopy

One of my professors put this quote up on powerpoint yesterday. It certainly resonated with me. In fact, yesterday I made a concerted effort to have some hellos. I think that's a start.

“Why can’t we get all the people together in then world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn’t work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate goodbyes. I know what I need. I need more hellos.” –Snoopy

Loneliness

Loneliness. The wedding is less than two weeks away and I am so excited to enter into my marriage wtih Joy. Because of the wedding coming up, I have literally gotten phone calls and e-mails from people around the world. Ireland, The Philippines, China, Italy, and all over the U.S. Still, I am lonely, and honestly, this has been something I've been feeling for several months now. I guess this move to Chicago has been a lot harder than I thought it would be. I have no real friends here outside of Joy and it's becoming terribly hard for me. Perhaps that's why all this wedding stuff has me feeling more lonely. Even though I'm starting my marriage and hearing from friends and will get to see most of them at the wedding, I know that after that they will all go back home to their places far away and then I don't know the next time I will see them and actually be in relationship with them. Honestly, I hate that. Somedays I wonder what happened to myself. I used to go out of my way to be in relationship, to cultivate friendships, to pursue others, and I certianly haven't done that this semester and I fully acknowledge that I simply have taken no initative or shown any desire. Perhaps it's because I've allowed myself to be too busy, allowed myself to be content with what is easy, allowed myself to reach the point where I didn't want to make any new friends because I just wanted the friends I already had to be here. I want to cultivate those relationships with people I've already shared my story with, with people who know my strenths and weaknesses and passions, with people who I've laughed with and cried with and can share countless memories. I'm not saying this is all good, but I am saying that in many ways, this is where I'm at, but I'm realizing that this needs to change. I don't know if I'm more afraid of the work and effort and all that goes into new relationships or if I'm more afraid of losing those relationships I can't imagine living without. I know I'm relational, I know I love working with high schoolers, I know I love to be with people, but I feel like I've done pretty poorly at all of that this semester.

One of my favourite people in the world is my friend Neville. Nevs is teaching in China for a year, and as a result won't be able to stand up for me at my wedding next weekend. I completely understand and love that he's off exploring the world, but as I thought about it, I realized that Neville knows me in a way that no one in the world knows me. And I believe I know Neville in a way that no one else knows Neville. I guess I would say that our relationship is unique. But it deosn't stop there. This is true for all the other people who are sharing a part in the wedding: Blom, Taylor Horner, Drew, Kevin, Loralee, Taylor Skiles, Kelmo, Ulee, Dawnette, Bethany, Mark and Ange, Deborah, Conor Hugh. Then there are the many many people who have greatly influenced my lives who will simply be there for the wedding and the party afterwards. They all know me in unique ways and we have unique relationships. They all know me in ways that are specific to our relationship and I want them there because they represent something important to me even outside of the obvious. These pople have taught me much about myself, themselves, God; about love, forgiveness, faithfulness, trust, honesty, grace, obedience, accountability, laughter. It is these relationships I am afraid of losing, the relationships I desperately want to keep, and not only keep, but strengthen, deepen, and grow as we laugh and cry and go through life together. Perhaps this is a longing for Heaven itself. Perhaps loneliness is a reminder that there is so much more to come.

Can I Get A Witness?

I am still upset about something that happened on Wednesday evening, November 30. You see, Joy and I went to the Cook Country courthouse to get our Marriage License. You would think this would be an exciting moment. Needless to say, it was highly disappointing. We made our way to the office where we were helped by a very nice lady wearing a blue suit and white tennis shoes. When she asked for and I.D., I gave her my passport. Whenever I know I'm going to be asked for an I.D., I ALWAYS take my passport. I love that it shows it's worn and when I'm standing in lines I can look at all the pretty stamps and my ridiculous picture from when I was 18 and too cool to smile. (Don't even get me started on the fact that I recently found out that when your passport expires and you need a new one, they require the old one back since it's government property and all. Call me silly, but my passport is one of my favourite possessions, even if it is technically the governments, and I have no intention of parting with it...)

So we're standing at the little desk with the sign that says, "Marriage Licenses" and are being helped by this nice woman, who does somewhat scoff when she sees my passport because "they're just so hard to get to lay open to get the information I need." Well, even though my driver's license was sitting in my back pocket, I wasn't about to cave in. And yes, I realize I can be really weird about some things.

I wonder what happened to people's senses of humor. Maybe they just don't think I'm funny, which does make some sense. She told us she was about to ask us some questions, so in pure cheesy fashion, I gaze at Joy and ask if she wants to hold hands while we do this. Not a smile. She double-checked to make sure we're not cousins, took some data, asked us if we'd ever been married before (this was the moment I said to Joy, "Oh shoot...I knew there was something I've been forgetting to tell you..." Still no smile.), and then proceeded to ask us about our educations. When she found out we both had college degrees but I was in graduate school, she said, "So you're still going on, huh?" I was in one of those moods, so my only response was, "To the stars." This time, Joy didn't smile either.

Anyway, all of this is not the real root of my anger right now. You see, whenever I think about a marriage certificate, I envision there being witnesses to sign. Even in my brother's wedding this summer the witnesses signed the license right during the ceremony. Not in Illinois. Apparently they don't do that blessed tradition, and instead, to my utter disgust, some County Clerk named David Orr has his name printed on there as our witness. I was fuming as I left. I know it seems silly, but honestly, why can't I have people we actually know and love sign as our witnesses? Is Mr. David Orr going to be there when the marriage gets tough, when we need someone to remind us of our vows, when we need some accountability and encouragement? Somehow, I doubt it.

I wonder what it might look like if I tried to call him in 20 years, and said, "Hey, Davey, I'm having some problems in my marriage and you were my witness...wanna do lunch?" Then, when we get together and he asks for some I.D. to look up my name or whatever, you better believe I'll proudly hand over that passport that I refused to give up ten years earlier.