I never know how to start a blog post and usually looking for that opening sentence takes me hours. As in, I try to think of something, fail, and then go do something else.

Hey, that kinda worked!

So anyway, as I said in my previous post, I had to attend a wedding last Friday. And I totally did. Because of it I can say that my weekend was kinda crappy. On Friday morning I got up as early as I could, finished cleaning the apartment (like we do every Friday) around 1 pm then went with my two younger sisters to the nearest salon to get my hair straightened. There were like 6 women ahead of us in line, so we waited a very long time, bored out of our minds. I was the last to go and got back home at 7:45 pm (initially got there at 4 pm) with barely enough time to dress and put makeup on. But we were ready relatively on time and when we arrived to the venue we found seats at a table that was relatively well situated (no seating plan at our weddings. Basically it's first arrived, first served.)

I won't go into too many details about the wedding itself: The food looked great, but being on a diet I didn't have anything (had a proper dinner before we left home anyway) the band was terrific so there was a lot of dancing, and the bride looked beautiful and had some amazing outfits/dresses (five, not counting the white wedding dress) and I was seated with my favorite cousins whom I hadn't seen in a while. One thing that bothered me, though, was the bridegroom. My cousin's daughter (the bride) is a 25 year-old young woman who has always been passionate about music. She plays the lute and sings in orchestras (traditional, not classical) and often goes to do shows abroad. She met him in Paris where she was performing. Not sure how long they've been together, though, but I'm guessing most of their relationship has been long distance. When I first heard that I was kinda hoping he was 100% French, you know. Just so I could feel less alone in my plight of dating/marrying a foreigner. When I saw his name on the invite, though, that hope was crushed. I had never seen him before (no one had, this was basically a surprise wedding, we only heard about it 20 days before it was supposed to happen) and had just heard that although her parents had agreed to the marriage, they weren't pleased because there is an age difference. I didn't think much of it. People would always find a way to talk shit, right? I figured it was something like ten years.

Then I saw the man and I felt sick to my stomach. It was like she was being walked down the aisle by her father. At first glance I thought he was 50. Then we were told he was 42, but I think that's a lie. We had been lied to before in a similar way, when my 23 year-old grand-cousin married a guy (from France, too) who looked 40 and we were told he was 32 (turned out he was 38, and btw, they divorced recently) Everyone at the table was utterly dismayed. I mean good for her, she got the man she wanted, and he looked absolutely smitten with her, but he honestly can't be younger than 45, and a 20 years difference is just... huge. I don't think they've been together for that long, and she's 25. If she had been 30 I would have trusted her judgement better. So yeah, I don't know. He's handsome enough, I guess. Or probably looked handsome ten years ago. the top of his head is bald, and his teeth are weird. Blah.

Btw, his mother is French. Half a victory for me, yay :/

So overall it was nice and weird. And way too damn long. We got there at 9 pm and I was ready to leave by 2 am, but everyone wanted to stay til the end and that put me in a crappy mood. It wasn't made better by the fact that there were a lot of young couples dancing and that always depresses me, these days. Yes, I get awfully jealous and miserable because I know I can never have that. So anyway, we finally went home at 3:30. Next day (or same day, actually) I got up at 4 pm and didn't do anything beside watching TV show and cooking several dishes to freeze so that I wouldn't have to cook much during the week. And that was my weekend.

Over the course of the same weekend (gross stuff ahead) I started noticing some weird light brown discharge when I wiped myself after going to the bathroom. The kind of stuff I'd get a day or two before my period starts. But I'd had my period two weeks ago. It hasn't stopped yet. Mostly it'd come away on toilet paper, but a couple of times it seeps to my panty-liners. I have never had mid-cycle spotting before, I'm not on any kind of pill and the last sexual activities I had were over 100 days ago, so of course I freaked out (I'm not the sanest person there is when it comes to health) and booked an appointment with my gyno, to which I went yesterday morning. She did an ultrasound that showed nothing wrong with my ovaries, no cyst of fibroid, no "major anomalies" (to me that reads like "there are minor anomalies" but let's not go there) and she said it was probably a hormone deficiency. I have heard that before when I went to see her in September because my periods had been abnormally heavy, long and painful and she had given me a three month treatment. And now this. Listen, woman, if you suspect I have a hormonal imbalance, why don't you prescribe blood tests or something? :S She said to just monitor the situation and if it persists she'll put me on the pill. I asked about a pap smear (I confess I have never had one done) and she said that it wouldn't be possible while I was "bleeding" and why did I want one anyway? I'm unmarried, right? I explained that I was sexually active and she was like oh, OK. Hopefully that won't come back and bite me in the ass.

Frankly I'd like to see another doctor, someone who would seem more competent to me. And I know one, she's amazing. But I can't go to her because she's also my mother's, and all of my sisters' doctor too. Too risky.

Moving on to the relationship front. Things are a bit shaky with Timo. Well, not exactly, that's not the right word. We're still good, and committed, and very much in love. But I think the distance is starting to take its toll on him. That, and other factors are making him depressed. He's feeling down most of the time, and what worries me is that he actually admits to it, unlike "normal" times where I'd have to harass him to hear what's wrong. Basically he feels lonely, he feels like he's not up to his tasks at work, and he just wants to stay at home and not go out. He doesn't act on his desire, though. He still goes out daily, to work and to the gym. He said that maybe he should talk to a counselor. I encouraged him, of course. I'd been suggesting he'd see a psychologist for a while now, because on top of all this, he clearly has body image issues. Some of you have seen pictures of him. He's very tall and slim and also pretty muscular. To me he looks absolutely perfect, but he always finds fault in how he looks. He feel bad when he "eats too much" and sometimes when his belly sticks out a little (it's way more flat than mine :S) he feels a bit down. He is aware that this isn't normal and he says it stems from a time when he was "fat" (I've seen pictures and I'd say a bit chubby, not fat) before the growth spurts hit him. I try to help him, but I don't know if I'm doing it right or not.

Also I feel guilty because, let's face it, I have a ton of issues myself, and it seems like I'm always complaining to him and I feel like he thinks that his worries and issues are invalidated by mine. And most of all I feel guilty for not being there with him.

Hmm. Maybe I should have left the heavy stuff out for another blog. Oh well.

ETA: Silly me, I forgot the pictures!
http://uppix.com/f-DSC048155315ba8c0015a1db.jpg
http://uppix.com/f-DSC048445315ba9e0015a1dd.jpg

Me and my sisters doing something we do at every wedding we attend
http://uppix.com/f-DSC048305315baae0015a1de.jpg

I covered my head up because I hate how I look in this one.
http://uppix.com/f-DSC048245315baba0015a1df.jpg

Also I decided to throw those shoes away because I don't like them anymore.