Fate looked down at her loom and contemplated how to continue. She studied the two threads and their current positions in the tapestry.

“They’re both theatre students,” she thought. “Let’s start with that.” Her shuttle began to fly across the threads. The Boy went to college to pursue acting, but the age gap was too large. He’d be done by the time the Girl went to school. The threads are tugged, tightened, repositioned. The Girl is going to college two years early. They should just overlap. Only an attempt to twine the threads together causes a snarl. They’re still too far apart. The Boy went to college in Middle Georgia, but in order to go when she did the Girl is attending school in West Georgia. Fate looks down at her loom, selects a new thread, and begins to weave again.

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“No, there is nothing subtle about biting into someone’s neck in the middle of the street, even if she is a prostitute!” The debate was good humored as the participants argued about whether or not a player’s feeding had been as blatant as the storyteller thought. No one really gave any consideration to how their dining hall conversation might sound to the people sitting around them until the girl sitting alone at the table next to them turned around.

“Are you talking about Vampire: the Masquerade?” she asked. After a startled pause, they admitted they were. She joined the table and proceeded to regale them with stories of her game. She invited them to come play. There is a natural prejudice ingrained in table top gamers against LARPs (after all, even nerds like to feel superior to someone), but Fate was tugging at their threads. It sounded fun, and she was nice. Then she mentioned that it was in Milledgeville.

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Fate felt the threads tighten and pop out of her grasp. They were too taut and would never stretch that far across the loom. With a heavy sigh, she went back to the threads that surrounded the Boy and began to weave again.

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“What the hell are we supposed to do? Gabe’s no longer HST and they’re leaving the Org. We’re screwed.” The anger and despair was thick in the air.

“We could just start our own game,” someone suggested.

“But where would we play? Brandon controls the student organization.”

And Fate tugged at the strings that ran across the loom.

“I’m working as a Resident Coordinator at West Georgia now,” the Girl From the Dining Hall said. “We could play there. Just move the game to Carrollton.”

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Fate smiled as the threads all began to come together, but the smile soon faded. Though the threads were weaving in sections side by side, the thread of the Girl and the thread for the Boy never crossed. Fate managed to pull a couple of the threads that surrounded the Boy across the Girl’s path, but nothing came of it. Finally, a couple of the the threads surrounding the two became closely intertwined. They tugged at the Girl’s thread, trying to pull it over those last few inches to blend into the other section of the tapestry. Finally, with one hard yank, they succeeded. Fate almost cheered until she looked over and realized that, while she had been focussing on the Girl, the Boy had escaped to an entirely different, and largely inaccessible part of the weaving. The narrow margin by which they had missed each other was enough to make Fate bang her head against the loom. However, she only allowed herself a second to mourn before she picked up the threads again. And with a sigh, she sent the shuttle flying.

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The threads danced across the loom. Sometimes they grew closer together, sometimes even further apart. Once they even crossed paths, but not long enough to make much of a difference. Only a few threads continued to run between them, but Fate fought hard to keep those threads connected. Their weavings mostly revolved around others, though. Both threads grew a little more frayed. The Boy experienced traumas that reopened old wounds, and created new ones. The Girl discovered how love could lead to loss as well as heartbreak. Fate looked at the threads with concern at first, but as she studied them she saw how the rough edges made them more likely to grip to each other. If she could get them to cross again, it would not be like the last time; there were no longer any smooth sides to glide off of each other and into other parts of the tapestry.

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The Boy had been back from the war, and back in Georgia, for months now. He was feeling at a loss. In his mother’s small town he only really had his family and one friend. Too often he found himself alone with the crushing burden of still being alive. As he stared at his computer screen, longing for a better form of escapism, Fate tugged as hard as she dared. The thread had grown so thin and frayed that every pull risked snapping it. Her gamble paid off, however. On a whim, the Boy decided to go to Atlanta and see if he could find the game he’d started all those years ago.

“Does anyone have a place I could crash?” he asked at the end of the night. Back in Carrollton he would have gotten a half dozen replies. Now, however, there was only one house that could consistently accommodate travelling players. This was actually the way Fate wanted it, only she looked down to find an error in the weaving. The Girl and her husband weren’t there to offer crash space. Fate tugged at their roommate, but the thread was snarled and refused to budge. Finally, awkwardly, someone offered floor space. The situation was so bad that the Boy was convincing himself not to bother to come back. Fate looked at the fraying thread and began to feel desperate.

The threads were close enough now, though, that the errors in the Tapestry were much easier to fix than they used to be. With so many threads running between them, they were naturally drawn together. The Roommate returned to the house and began to tell his housemates about the game.

“... and there was a guy who is apparently an old player who came back. He was looking for a place to crash, but I didn’t want to just offer your house out to a stranger.”

“An old player?” they asked. “Who was he?”

“I think his name was J---- D----.”

“We know J---- D----!” they replied almost in unison. In truth, they’d only ever met him once, but they’d been hearing stories about him for years. The Roommate’s refusal to offer hospitality to a stranger was a point of disagreement in the household. The Girl and her husband always welcomed anyone who needed a place to stay, and felt the Roommate should have extended that courtesy. The Roommate did not, and would never, feel comfortable with this. However, the whole conflict was rendered moot when they realized who the individual was. The Husband sent out an email informing the Boy that he would be more than welcome to crash with them in the future. After his next visit to town put him crashing with friends an hour further out, this offer was the only thing that convinced him to come back one last time. And this time, the Girl was finally there.

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“Really? I thought you said ‘This potato tastes like sand.’ I mean, that’s what I heard anyway.” The Girl realized that she was correcting the story of the person it was actually about and began to feel a little self conscious. Until he replied,

“Huh, yeah, I think I said that, too.” And he looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time. “By the way, I’m J---- D----.”

“I know who you are,” she said smiling, “We’ve met before. I’m Anie. You’re staying at my house tonight.”

He blinked and focussed again on this pretty girl sitting next to him. He felt certain that he would remember having met her before, if he had. Of course, he didn’t remember the first time he met his wife either. It was a fact they had always found notable. He began to feel a little off balance.

Back at the house, an impromptu party was being held as other out of towners were also crashing there (and many people wanted the opportunity to see and socialize with the Boy again). Conversations flitted from topic to topic and the Girl walked into the dining room just in time to hear the Boy say, “I just don’t believe open marriages can work.”

Fate felt the thread twitch between her fingers and almost laughed with delight. There was nothing the Girl loved more than a challenge. She smiled, a flirtatious, sadistic smile as she replied, “Mine seems to be working just fine.”

The Boy found himself gaping awkwardly under her gaze as he tried to figure out how to reply. Before he could form a response, the girl at the end of the table changed the subject. The Girl was left with an unsatisfied desire to talk to him further.

The Boy continued to visit, and the two continued to talk, until every waking moment was filled with discussion. They texted, used messaging clients, and (when possible) slipped away for private moments of intense conversation. Soon the ache to be with each other grew too strong and they Boy and the Girl were forced to discuss the issue with their spouses.

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Fate had the tapestry well in hand now, however. All the threads were in the right places and she could see clearly how to weave them into the picture they were meant to form. Oh sometimes there were snarls that had to be worked out, but these were minor setbacks, easily overcome with a little patience. The two frayed threads grew stronger as they twined more tightly together. The threads danced as the shuttle pressed the weaving into place.

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Almost three years later, the Boy and the Girl are driving to a party in Carrollton. Their spouses are driving up in a separate car. It’s a trip almost guaranteed to make them nostalgic. They both have history with this city and this trip and it seems strange to them that this history doesn’t overlap. They’re comparing stories and memories, and discussing the early days of their relationship. The Boy grows melancholy.
“I just realized how fragile it all was,” he says, as he begins to choke up. “If one little thing had been different, we never would have met. We never would have gotten together.”
In a different part of reality, Fate rests her head against her loom and laughs until her sides ache.

Our imperceptibly BDSM, very nerdy, laidback, traditional Jewish wedding (with a cookie cake)

So I admit it, I was a little disappointed that I was never featured on Offbeat Bride. But ya know what? Who needs other people for validation? I have my own blog now, and I can fill out my profile myself! So here it is, in honor of my two year wedding (9 year together) anniversary, my Offbeat Bride Profile (the slideshow is to the right - I couldn't figure out a way to put it in the post itself):

The offbeat bride: Anie
Her offbeat partner: Lorien
Location & date of wedding: The Temple in Atlanta, Ga on August 17, 2008

What made our wedding offbeat: I actually thought of our wedding as pretty traditional. And the more I researched Jewish weddings, the more traditional it seemed. Turns out, a lot of my original “offbeat” ideas, like having both my parents escort me down the aisle and having the groom come down the aisle, are actually just the way it’s done in a Jewish wedding. However, despite how traditional I thought I was being, apparently there was enough quirkiness that we got lots of comments on how unusual and unique it was.

The bouquets were all made of clay and purchased off Etsy. I built the chuppah myself (with some help decorating the poles at the picnic the day before) out of my grandmother’s old table cloth. I also made my veil. We came down the aisle to the theme music from the Legend of Zelda. At the end of the ceremony, we bolted out the back while our bridal party receded to the victory music from Final Fantasy (can you think of a more appropriate time for victory music?). Our rabbi was super light hearted and had everyone smiling and laughing. At the (vegetarian!) reception we had a giant tiered cookie cake instead of a traditional wedding cake, and after about an hour or so of traditional dancing we broke out the DDR! We managed to get young and old(er) together to dance the Time Warp and then we were Rick Rolled! Oh, and somewhere in there we roasted marshmallows over a candle centerpiece in honor of a friend of ours.

From Wedding - Reception

Our biggest challenge: Getting people to show up. I know that sounds odd, but it’s true. A few close friends who I was hoping would come didn’t make it the priority I expected and had trips planned (and one apparently just forgot the day of) and my Uncle and Aunt both had work commitments they couldn’t escape. I told my mother that if I’d known earlier I could have changed the date, but she insisted that the date I had was important to me and my hubby and that in five years we’d still be celebrating on that date - and probably not thinking about who was or wasn’t there. Two years later, I realize she’s right. I remember my Aunt’s art on the shirts we wear to our anniversary parties (which also hung over the guest book), and I remember my uncle at the rehearsal dinner, and I don’t really remember who did or didn’t make it to the reception.

Tell us about your ceremony: We had a traditional Jewish ceremony - remixed. My rabbi, bless his heart, is an incredibly liberal, feminist, equal-rights-all-the-way kinda guy. Me? I’m a submissive housewife. And that’s submissive with an intentionally lower case s. The traditional Jewish wedding ceremony has the man essentially buying the wife by giving her the ring (it’s not a ring exchange so much as a ring granting). It’s actually based on the old testament laws for acquiring a slave. I really liked the idea of me being acquired by my husband, but I didn’t really want to explain my BDSM preferences to my rabbi. Instead I explained how I had “my moment” when I circled my husband seven times creating the sacred space for the wedding (a moment the man has no equivalent for) and I wanted the ring granting to be my husband’s moment. He kept harping on how the ceremony wasn’t equal since “my moment” had me silent and technically took place before the first blessing and thus the start of the ceremony, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to tell him that I WANTED a ceremony that represents a relationship dynamic in which I am the silent homemaker and my husband is the vocal provider of things-of-monetary-value and that I didn’t care if the whole ceremony created an unbalanced power dynamic shifted in my husband’s favor.

From Wedding - Ceremony and Formals

After a couple of sessions of arguing, we came to a compromise. We did the first part of the ceremony (the betrothal blessing/kiddushin) before going up to the chuppah. My rabbi said this is halachalically sound since originally these were two separate ceremonies, but we (as a people) haven’t done it this way since the 12th Century or so. Then, after the kiddushin, I circled Lorien and, when I was done, I gave him his ring while saying Ani L'Dodi V'Dodi Li
(I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine). Because I gave him his ring then, and not during the kinyan portion, I believe that it did not counter his claim of ownership over me (though my rabbi is still free to believe it did). The rest of the ceremony proceeded in the traditional manner. Our rabbi chanted the 12 Wedding Blessings (with his beautiful voice) and our family members came up to read the translations. To add an “I do” moment for all the gentiles in the crowd (almost all of Lorien’s family, my paternal family, and almost all of our friends) our rabbi read us the text of our ketubah which we had signed in a private family and attendants only ceremony earlier and asked if we still agreed to it. (The traditional Jewish ceremony has no vows or “I do” moment - there is nothing binding in the main ceremony other than the ring exchange because the wedding contract/ketubah was already signed before the ceremony started).

My favorite moment: Wow, this question would probably have been a lot easier to answer two years ago! But I think it would have to be when the DDR screen came down. My husband and I had joked (or so he thought) about having DDR at the wedding as the only way to get him to dance. Little did he know that I had made arrangements with the building supervisor and one of our posse members to use the giant drop down screen that they used when broadcasting services into the reception room when there’s overflow on High Holidays. Groomsmen wrangled him until it was all set up, so he came in to the giant screen coming down with the dance pads out. His face lit up and he burst out laughing.

From Wedding - Reception

Of course, there was also when we were going to leave and someone said “Oh no, it's raining!” I looked at Lorien and he just smiled and shook his head with resignation. Months before I had made him promise that, if it were possible, he would dance with me in the rain on our wedding day. The weather was perfect in every possible way. It was bright and sunny during and after the ceremony so we could take all our formal pictures outside. And then, just as we were leaving, that brief downpour so I could have my moment with my husband.

From Wedding - Reception

My funniest moment: The funniest moment during the ceremony would have to be when Lorien’s little sister messed up during the blessings. For the Seven Wedding Blessings we had seven family members stand on the stairs leading up to the bima to read the translations. The rabbi hadn’t been at the rehearsal so we hadn’t practiced with the chanting. The rabbi chanted the first blessing and Lorien’s Grandmother read the translation. Then, as soon as she was done, Lorien’s sister started reading her translation to the next blessing. She only got a few words out, however, before her father (standing behind her to read the next blessing) clapped his hand over her mouth. That was really the ice breaker moment when everyone realized it was okay to laugh and have fun.

From Wedding - Ceremony and Formals

My advice for offbeat brides: Don’t be afraid to stand your ground, but don’t waste time mourning ideas you can’t follow through on. I really wanted my bridesmaids in polka dot dresses, but I just couldn’t find ones that would work in time - so I made up for it with accessories and let it go. Also, if people challenging your crazy ideas and second guessing you is hampering your ability to enjoy your day - tell them! They are (probably) genuinely trying to make sure everything is perfect for you and if you tell them that they’re actually being the problem, chances are good they’ll stop. My mom is super amazing, but we did have a moment. When my sister dyed her hair purple before the wedding I was SO happy! She was going to look awesome! But then my mom started questioning if it was a good idea, if we should let it stay that way, how we’d feel about the pictures - and I just cut her off and told her that I had been super excited when I heard and now she was raining on my parade and I needed her to stop. After that, no more second guessing unless I specifically asked for feedback. She even helped talk the rabbi into letting me go down the aisle barefoot!

Care to share a few vendor/shopping links?
* Venue: The Temple http://the-temple.org/
* Bouquets and flowers for chuppah base: Midori Designs http://www.etsy.com/shop/midoridesigns
* Crown: Thyme 2 Dream http://www.etsy.com/shop/Thyme2dream
* Necklace: Archeress Arts http://www.etsy.com/shop/archeress
* Dress: Bettina Foster (local Atlanta seamstress)
* Photographer: Jody Burnett http://burnettphoto.com/
* Centerpieces: Faerie Dust Dreams http://www.etsy.com/shop/FaerieDustDreams (for the crowns, my mom made the pillows)

* The Cookie Cake:Ali's Cookies http://www.shipacookie.com/
* Caterer: Chef Cary’s Cuisine http://www.chefcaryscuisine.com/

Nitty Gritty

Real Housewife of Atlanta is, as you can probably tell from reading it, my introduction entry. However, as you poke around you'll notice that there are a lot of entries that are dated before it. I wanted to give this blog some content right off the bat, so I imported entries from other sources that I felt fit my themes. These entries are either from my Livejournal, my wedding blog, or were something I wrote as a submission somewhere. While these entries weren't written for this blog, they were what inspired me to start it. I wanted a place to showcase some of my better written work that wasn't targeted specifically to people who already knew me.

Live Journal is great for keeping in touch and sharing ideas, but for me it's a journal and a messaging board, not a place for columns and articles. Posting an entry on LJ about how and why I designed a kids room in my house seems kind of silly. Because most of the people reading either a) were here when I put it together, or b) don't see that as a part of my life that's relevant to them. I'm hoping that, by having a separate blog that's dedicated to writing as much as it is to informing, I will be more motivated to craft entries rather than simply post brief (or boring) updates.

Plus there's the issue of recognition. My mother reads my livejournal and who knows what other family members. Now, she can only see a very few entries, because of LJ's great filtering features, but that means that most of my "best work" can't be shared beyond Friend's Only. I'm pretty open about my life and my lifestyle, but I still believe it would be best for everyone involved if my Orthodox cousins never quite figured out some of the details. As a result, you'll notice some odd choices about anonymity. I only use my nickname here and use pseudonyms for my significant others, but I do post pictures of myself. The thing is, I don't mind if you recognize me on the street and say "Hey Anie! I love your blog! Can I come play in your vampire game?" In fact, that would be awesome, because we need new players. But I don't want the aforementioned cousins to do a google search trying to find our old wedding website and stumble across this instead.

So my husband is Lorien. My boyfriend is Karma. My husband's girlfriend/boyfriend's wife will probably appear as the GFIL (girlfriend in law). Of course, depending on the entry, the [gender]friends may just appear as Mommy and Daddy, because if we're talking about their kids, that's who they are. Due to income restraints, it will probably be a while before that one will become confusing.

Anyway, check out the old entries. If you like what you see, I look forward to having you around!

-anie

Real Housewife of Atlanta

Hi, I'm Anie. I've decided to start a blog about my life. I'm not sure if anyone will want to read it, though. I mean, my life is pretty normal and straight forward. I got married at 23 to my highschool sweetheart. We bought a house in the city three months later. He has a salaried job and I work super part time (about 15 hours a week) just to give us a little extra grocery money. He pays the bills, I wash the underwear.

On Friday night we light Shabbat candles and have a nice dinner. About every other weekend we're joined by our boyfriend and girlfriend and their boys. We spend dinner trying to keep the kids from blowing out the candles and then we head out to our local vampire LARP (Live Action Role Playing game). Usually mom and the boys will hang out for half an hour to an hour. Then they go home and go to bed while the rest of us play until two in the morning. After game, a handful of friends (somewhere between two and five) come back to our place to spend the weekend.

Saturdays are spent with the kids going to the park, friends hanging out on the porch, and lots of computer games. Until nightfall, when it's time for another LARP. Sundays are for walking around the neighborhood and sad goodbyes. Then it's back to the grind of another work week in which my darling husband will leave me with a To Do list that I will never quite finish.

Weekends with out games are usually more low key. Most of the time there's some party or club event scheduled, which will give my boyfriend a reason to come to town. I'll put on my party clothes and he'll put on his nice collar and we'll go out to have some fun. Often the husband comes along as well. Living in the city, we can usually come up with a few different options for entertainment, though Sunday nights still usually find us at home watching television shows on Netflix.

Passover is spent with my mother's extended family here in Atlanta. Easter is the big holiday for my husbands family, but it's pretty open invite so this year we brought our boyfriend and girlfriend along, too. Thanksgiving we usually travel to South Carolina to stay with my parents and go see my Dad's family. We don't tend to stay long, however, because a friend here in Atlanta hosts a big Friends and Family feast the Saturday following that we like to be back for (if only to recreate the holiday with the [gender]friends and their kids). Christmas is complicated, but seems to have settled into a compromise with my family coming to Atlanta and us doing Christmas Eve for my dad. Then we all head out for the in-law's big todo on Christmas Day. Unfortunately, it happens at the same time as the girlfriend's family's todo, but we all managed to get together afterward for some quality family time. Maybe this year we'll see if people can shuffle their schedules around a little, but probably not.

Of course there are other key events in the year. Our LARP is part of an international organization, and we host an event every March. Then there's always Dragon*Con in September (which served as our honeymoon one year). Somewhere around January or February we tend to travel to Milwaukee for their event game. And this year we're talking about both New Orleans and Israel. It seems like there's always something coming up that we need to save our pennies for. Luckily, we all seem to get along well on long car trips and in cramped hotel rooms.

Really, I guess that's my life. I admit, the house isn't nearly as clean as it should be for someone with nothing else to do with her time. And the laundry always tends to get done minutes before we run out of clothes. And juggling all the various families and faiths can get complicated, not to mention budgeting in the trips and cons. But my home is full of love and happiness and parties and people and even a few whips and chains just to keep everything in line. All in all, it's just a normal, boring life. But maybe you'll enjoy reading about it anyway. I hope you do!

And Tim quivered in his pew trying not to laugh ...

The music to go with the lyrics

Link, he come to town
Come to save the princess Zelda
Ganon took her away
Now the children don't play
But they will when Link saves the day
Hallelujah!

Now Link, fill up your hearts
So you can shoot your sword with power
And when you're feeling all down
The fairy will come around
So you'll be brave, and not a sissy coward

Now Link has saved the day
Put Ganon in his grave
So now Zelda is free
And now our hero shall be
Link! I think your name shall go down into history

And no, that totally was not our processional music. That would have been ridiculous. But this was. Only played on a piano and sounding quite lovely!


..and yes, it was a two aisle ceremony so we're walking down simultaneously looking at each other over the guests in the middle.


all photos courtesy of Jody Burnett at burnettphoto.com