The professor...

...He's a DOCTOR now!!!!!
Upon my mom's recommendation, I am getting myself a drink.

Almost...PhD

In a couple of hours Prof. Grady is about to stand in front of a committee and defend his dissertation.

Please wish him luck.

Too much information, but still...

My sister Ina lives in Bremen, so a lot of our conversations happen online. We talk about work and life and exchange music and gossip and laugh A LOT. Every time I talk to her, 20 minutes into the conversation, I end up needing to go to the bathroom. I am not making this up, I swear. We say hello-hello and start chatting and inevitably, 20 minutes in, I’m taking a poop-break.

Ina says that this happens because she helps me relax.

Честита Баба Марта from the K-G's!

Copyright 2008 Kyle Grady

This year we outdid ourselves: got props, broke a camera and smashed a knee in the process of taking the photo. But hey, Baba Marta is our favorite Bulgarian holiday...So...no regrets.

Happy Baba Marta to you all!

Roman Holiday

It really was just lovely.



P.S. My molto picolla bag made it back home safely. Thank you for your concern.

WOW! Where are you from?!

Kyle’s stepdad’s sister went to Paris a couple of years ago. She knows French but had a terrible experience speaking French while in France. She would always try and people would not be able to understand and then everyone would get frustrated. Sometimes people would switch to English, sometimes they would simply ignore her. I am particularly sympathetic to that last bit, because I had a terrible experience during my 24-hour stint in Paris back in September. When I was there, I was in several situations where people had an opportunity to decide whether to be nice or rude to me and ALL of them chose the latter. Anyway.

So, on her last day in Paris, Tom’s sister is sitting in a cafe, sipping some wine when she strikes up a conversation with another woman sitting at the table right next to her. They talk about Paris, the weather, life. They are totally hitting it off. She’s super excited because FINALLY she is able to speak French AND be understood. WOW, she says to the other woman, It was so great to talk to you!!! Where are you from?! The woman takes a sip of her coffee and answers:

Kansas City.

2007 in pictures

This is sort of what 2007 looked like for the Professor and me.



It was a pretty good year.

The K-G's at 1.

Today we turn 1 year old.

It's been a blast.

***
Photo by Nasko.

Sadder. Happier.

Last night with dinner, we started watching A Mighty Heart. That’s the movie about Daniel Pearl, the journalist who was murdered by a militant Islamic fundamentalists in 2002, and his wife Mariane.

It’s a heart-breaking story and a poorly executed movie. Angelina Joli plays Mariane Pearl and delivers an unforgivably flat performance. But, hey, that’s her specialty, so no surprises there. Kyle watched for about two-slices-of-pizza and decided he needed to leave the room, he thought it was THAT bad. I watched the whole thing and cried my eyes out at the end.

Getting married has done this thing to me where I find it harder and harder to detach from other people’s misfortunes. Before, I used to put myself in other people’s shoes and try to figure out how I would feel if I were them. Now, I imagine Kyle in their position and I just can’t bare the thought of it.

I find myself feeling VERY SAD more often. I also feel my life is so much fuller and that I am so much happier.

NOT on the same page. Yet.

Prof. Grady and I try very actively to communicate. We both know that saying what one's got on their mind is a prerequisite for a healthy relationship. That applies to any kind of relationship, really, but especially to our kind of relationship. You know, the kind that's meant to last forever. So, we do talk things through and, I'm happy to report, we ARE on the same page about all of the important stuff.

Except one.
Food.

The professor and I, we both love to eat, so we don't argue about THAT. What we do argue over is what actually constitutes good food. See, prior to meeting my husband, I had made quite the name for myself for eating mostly ingredients. People would ask me about my favorite food and I would say: TOMATO! AVOCADO! BREAD! Since I met Prof. Grady, however, FOOD has been introduced into my life. He plans MEALS. And...and he cooks on TWO burners. Like, AT THE SAME TIME. He chops onions like they do on the Food Network. And knows what the difference between HERBS and SPICES is. I mean...the man is SERIOUS about food stuffs! And getting married to him has SERIOUSLY increased the quality of MY life. I am not sure that HE could say the same about getting married to ME. What I have introduced him to, is вафли Боровец and mish-mash.

Having different eating habits is usually not a problem, except for the rare occasions when it becomes a problem. Like, for example, when the other day he asked me if I had any ideas for lunch and I said that there was yoghurt in the fridge. Or like, this other time when we decided we would have soup for dinner and I got excited I wouldn't need to go grocery shopping because we had some tomato paste and dill in the house. That's when we had a problem. Husband said ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! And wife rolled her eyes because she didn't think skipping dinner just that one time would be that big of a deal.

We've been married almost a year now and we are no longer surprised when food-inspired disagreements take place. He's got a much fuller appreciation for Bulgarian junk food now and I have learned that simply because their peels are green, cucumbers do not really count as "greens". We talk about our menu in all seriousness, the same way we talk about paying bills or our work or you know...other stuff we do. Sometimes he dispairs and lets me eat лютеница for breakfast, lunch AND dinner. And other times, I hold my breath and eat rice noodles and tofu simply because HE loves it SO DAMN MUCH.

The best part about all this, however, is not that we have learned to comprise with each others eating habits. The best part is that that we have developed habits that are neither his, nor mine but OUR OWN. Like...when we eat paprika flavored potato chips while waiting for dinner to be served. Or, when we put black pepper in our shopska salad. Or, when Kyle thinks up new recipies and we then together come up with names for the dishes...THAT, my friends, is a good example of some EXCELLENT communication.

So we might not be on the same page as far as food goes. But that's alright. We are just not on the same page YET.

A hard day's night

After a difficult day at the office, my husband took me out for falafel and we ended up getting tipsy on martinis at 703.

Difficult completely changes its meaning, when your someone special's got your back.

True story.

Kyle’s mom Mary and her husband Tom went to Italy on vacation. They stayed at a restored Medici palace, which, believe it or not, is still in the hands of the grand-grand-grand children of the Medici Royal Family. Kyle’s mom was filled with awe. She loved the place but also felt extremely nervous to be in the presence of all those royal people who still lived/worked at the palace. One morning, right before breakfast, she runs into a Medici woman. Mary’s thunderstruck. She tries to get it all together, thinking, Oh my god! What do I say to her?! Bonna serra?! Bon giorno?!...?!?!!

So she stops for a second, looks up at the woman and says: Guurrrrrr!!!

Then turns around and runs away.

The meaning of compromise

The best thing about our wedding was getting to spend time with our families and living through moments that everyone knew would become treasured family stories to be told at family reunions and dinner parties and…well…blogs…over and over and over again.

Here’s a little conversation that took place between my sister Ina and her boyfriend Mike-from-Texas:



Mike: I would really like to move out of downtown Bremen. I would like us to get a small house, the two of us and my roommate. And get a dog.
Ina: OK. But I would prefer we lived in an apartment in downtown Bremen.
Mike: Well…OK.
Ina: Only, that I would not want to share a place with your roommate.
Mike: Err…OK.
Ina: And, actually, I don’t think we should get a dog.
Mike: But, Ina! That’s not how these things work. We’ve got to compromise!
Ina: Yes, you are right…(pause)…Maybe, we can get a dog.

The little one, she too comes from a family with a long tradition of women who do not know the true meaning of the word compromise.

Our Wedding-Wedding

The night before our wedding, we stayed up waaay later than we should have. We also consumed way more alcohol than necessary. So, the morning OF the wedding, we felt just as fresh as dill pickles. But we did get out of bed and before I knew it, I was having bobby pins nailed into my head. I spend the day thinking I was a walking fire-hazard with the amount of hairspray worked into my bridal style.

Prof. Grady and I both suffered minor heart-attacks at the reception room of our church as we realized we had forgotten to bring our civil marriage certificate, which had seemed like the only real prerequisite for being able to marry into the Christian Orthodox church. The priests were scary at first but then understanding and agreed to follow through with the ceremony. Pheew!

During the ceremony:

P: I am sweating like a pig.
K: Me too.
Priest: Kiss the cross and say Amen.

We had three priests perform the ceremony. One was stern, one was sweet and one had the most beautiful voice but did not seem to give a shit. The choir was so fantastic, our guests bet money on whether it was a recording or not.

We walked out and our guests just stood there, mostly stupefied, not knowing what to say or do...intermingled with another wedding party...of German-speakers...and stray dogs...and so many pigeons...Our photographer got a huge kick out of it all.

We took photos ON the tram line by the little produce market where street vendors hustled my husband into kissing me and offered us beers and yelled OHMYGODTHEBRIDE!!!!!! as the next tram came down the street and they worried we would get run over. Like I said, the photographer got a huge kick out of it. He also made us walk all the way to the National Theater and took photos on the way...kids dropping their ice-cream cones while watching Kyle and I, together with our KUMOVE, take high jumps off the fountains.

Our reception was at MOTTO, a place we've always liked, but now LOVE...for its beautiful garden and delicious food and wonderful, wonderful staff who greeted our guests with glasses of Italian sparkling wine but also saved a bottle for just the two of us because they thought we would need it the most. We exchanged vows in both English and Bulgarian and, I must say, doing that was the most romantic thing I've ever experienced. It was something we always wanted to do, but I did not realize how much I really meant all those words and how much I wanted to actually say it in front of our closest friends and families. It was just magic.

What followed was a night of good food and better music and, really, the best people in the entire world. It was sweet and, ok, a little sappy at times. But mostly just really really FUN. No strange rituals. No chicken dances. No MACARENA. Just love and romance and hugs and kisses everywhere. Also, little flower girls spilling red wine all over their white dresses, and grandmas drinking beer out of BIG glasses, and toasts that made everyone tear up a little bit and then laugh, like, A LOT.

I was amazed by the ability of people to reach across cultural and language barriers:

- My grandma spent the entire evening hanging out with Kyle's sister Ellie, the conversation culminating with the two of them taking a picture of their tired feet: Ellie in her silver Manolo's and Grandma, in her brand-new flat Dr. Scholl's.

- Kyle's mom and my grandpa bonding over their appreciation for mastika.

- 4 parents dancing the horo to Madonna's Like a Prayer.

- Ina's boyfriend, Mike, seating people and then getting them all gather up for our first dance...and for the throwing of the bouquet...and for the cake.

- Kyle's dad giving a small lesson in skateboarding history during his toast at the reception

- Watching my mom drag my friend Cristi into the toilet and attempting to stick her finger in her mouth. See, mom thought that Cristi was drunk and, being the true problem-solver that she is, wanted to help her throw up. The thing was...Cristi was not drunk. She simply had the flu.

***

We had been so tired and busy the week leading up to the wedding, that we had started worrying we wouldn't be able to enjoy it. But we did. I am so happy we had fun at our own wedding. But, I am the most happy that somewhere between the dinners, and errands, and bad bouquets, and the constant going back and forth between English and Bulgarian, and the music, and the seating charts, and the crosses and the crowns, and the first, and second and third dances, and the I-love-you's and the pigeons and the rice, and the tired feet and the big entrances, and the small breakdowns...I fell in love with my husband, all over again.

And, to me, my friends, that makes the whole thing all worthwhile.