8.7.98

    I have already had a handful of experiences here in Los Angeles that make my mouth drop open in apocalyptic horror. Yesterday was just another.

    I stayed a bit late at work in order to thwart the traffic -- it worked. While I didn't exactly speed along, the cars were moving which was nice. As I crested the ridge out of The Valley and turned the corner which brings the Getty Center into view I was shocked, sickened and horrified. The clear blue sky was harshly delineated by a brown haze which continued on into L.A. proper. I could barely make out the Getty.

    No wonder everybody has headaches and sore throats. Bah. It's disgusting.

    I had to have a blood test taken today...for rubella. Ohmigod! I'm diiiiieeing of rubellllla! Bleeeding out my ears and seeeeing the ghost of Elllllvissssss! Help me, please!

    Apparently, those are not the symptoms of rubella so I guess I'll have to pay out of my pocket for the test instead of having my company pick up the check. Rubella is more commonly known as German Measles. German Measles can harm a fetus and make it grow into a deaf, retarded older child. I have to be tested for it in order to receive a marriage license in the grand state of Montana. Wouldn't want me to be a defective breeder, would we?

    Of course not. T. doesn't have to get a blood test. Just me. Oh, and he has to sign it to prove that he knows of the test. Isn't that just archaic?

    Recent developments wedding-wise is that I'm not taking his last name. I thought that he knew how I felt about this all along but apparently he didn't. We had a months-long conversation about it and he has acquiesced. It surprised me that he held strong feelings one way or the other. The issue is, however, that me taking his name means nothing substantial for him except that it will signify immediately that I am his wife. By meaning nothing, I mean there will be no dramatic shift in his life such as there would be in mine by changing my name.

    On the obvious side of things is the fact that by changing my name I will have to get a new driver's license, new checks, new social security card and change the information for payroll and online stuff. Seems like a pain in the behind, no? On the not-so-obvious side is that I have become very attached to my name. My name means something special to me which I won't go into right here. And, lastly, why does the girl have to change her name anyway? Yeah, there's a feminist side to this, too. I tried to get T. to look at it from my perspective but he either refused or was not able to. Frankly it came down to the fact that if he couldn't come up with a better argument than "cause it's supposed to be that way" then I would be keeping my name.

    A shout out to Tracing for answering my personal questions about this issue. It was great hearing your perspective. Smart girl, that Tracing.

    What else? What else? I'm doing more manic shopping this weekend for wedding stuff. I need shoes and some sort of Merry Widow type thing to keep muh girls in place. Did I mention how much I hate bra shopping? I probably did. It's even harder in L.A. because there are so many places to get such things but they are all over town. I've been procrastinating finding something to go under the wedding dress because I need to find a lingerie shop that's not Victoria Secret and also does not carry musical dildos. These are the sort of things which people can recommend and of which I know of no one to recommend them.

    The hardest part about moving to a new city is finding the good stuff. In Los Angeles it's even more overwhelming because there's just so much stuff. On select streets there are these banners hanging from the light posts which say, "It's amazing how L.A. is growing." Hell, yeah, it is! Stop it! Go on a diet or something. It's strange to think of the economy being reliant on more, more, more. Seems to kill the quality of life, doesn't it?

    Pooh. I'm hoping after this damn wedding that T. and I will be able to get out a little more and enjoy some of the more finer aspects of Los Angeles. Is there anything to do that's free? Maybe we'll go back to the Improv -- that was a lot of fun.

    And, one last thing: T. is for...