To quote a country song, "Guys do it all the time"

I have had a habit of checking out the hands of both men and women, looking for a wedding ring. (I think I developed the habit when I worked as a police reporter and frequently got hit on by married cops). But I've been told this is a "girl thing." I remember having this conversation with SJ's husband, J, and the Pretend Husband during a Setback game one night. They assured us that they had never looked at someone's hands to see if they were wearing a ring. And they were pretty adamant about the fact that they won't in the future. In fact, I asked the PH about this the other day and he again said he would never think to do it.

While our focus group of J and the PH has been good for getting the male perspective on a bunch of subjects, I don't think the results were so accurate this time around. My proof:

- Last year, I was talking to a guy I had met for the first time when he asked when I was getting married. I was a little confused how he would know that I was, but he cleared it up by saying, "That rock is hard to miss." Exhibit A of men who look for rings.

- Today, I was working on my laptop when a cop I knew from a previous job approached and said, "Hey, didn't you used to work at X Paper?" We chatted and then he said, "But you weren't married when you were working there." The dude had checked my hand behind the laptop screen. Exhibit B.

And now I don't feel so bad that I do it too.

Thank you, thank you very much

SJ’s away and this blogger is ready to play! SJ and her husband left yesterday for their annual vacation, which usually includes Dutch food, Danish Christmas ornaments and a big mouse in flashy clothing. That’s right, the SJ family is in Disney for a few days. But SJ sort of half-promised she would try to find a business center and be the Funny Gals foreign correspondent while she’s away (although she may have only said that to get out of the headlock I had her in). But c’mon, I left a comment from my honeymoon in a foreign country using a comment window that was written in Dutch! How hard could it be to comment from Florida?!?

A co-worker asked me this morning, “How’s married life?” and my response was, “There seems to be a lot more writing than before we were married.” That’s right, I’m in thank you card hell. The Pretend Husband and I are blessed to have tons of family members and friends who are generous and awesome and awesomely generous. Which means thank you cards for gifts and their friendship and attending our wedding, which I don’t mind doing… at all. In fact, I love telling people how grateful I am to have them in my life and I get a kick out of fashioning an interesting thank you note. But it is a lot of writing.

With my birthday two days ago came a whole new load of gifts (Woe is me for having such generous friends!) which means I’m officially an event behind with the thank yous. I may not be the most organized person in the world, but I live and die by the thank you note. I am physically incapable of receiving a gift and not sending a note to thank the person for it. I can thank my mom for that trait (with a well-written and sincere thank you note, of course!)

And I’m not talking fill-in-the-blank “Thank you for the lovely _______________. We love it! Love, KAT” kind of notes. Oh no! The proper note has a reason why I love it so much and usually a description of how I’m going to put it to use (what I used the gift card to buy or how well the comforter will go with the color of our bedroom walls). Believe me, it’s much easier to write these things if you really mean it. And I also find thank you notes to be the perfect medium in which to thank a person for their love or friendship and tell them how much they mean to me.

I’m proud to say the PH and I are almost done with the thank you notes for our wedding and I’ve already addressed the envelopes for my birthday thank yous. I think we can finish all of them up by the end of the weekend. Just in time to get started on those Christmas cards!

Aruba... an easy to read, bullet-pointed summary

I haven't yet posted about our honeymoon to Aruba because I wanted to write a big, in-depth post that does such an awesome trip justice (plus, I'll admit, I've been testing out some of the stories on friends and family members). Now that work isn't keeping me up until all hours of the night, here are some highlights...

- When we got to the hotel near the airport the night before our flight (and too far from home to go back), I realized that I packed for the balmy weather of Aruba and failed to include any shorts or cargo pants. I was set for a week of fancy dinners and swimming because I had more than enough skirts and bathing suits... but not nearly enough shorts. It led to us spending part of the first day of our honeymoon shopping and the Pretend Husband's declaration, "I married an idiot." Unfortunately, I gave him a few more occasions to use the catch phrase during the remainder of the week!

- While the U.S. is somewhat obsessed with the concepts of "rules" and "liability," the same cannot be said for Aruba. Going horseback riding, but never been on a horse before? No worries... the experience included the very detailed instructions of "Always get on and off the horse from the left," a quick lesson on how to hold the reins and the warning "Don't scream if the horse starts galloping." And then we were more or less left to fend for ourselves and trade tips about what worked as we galloped across the beach at breakneck speeds.
Our ATV tour was much the same way. The instructions? "Gas on the right, brake on the left." I didn't so much "take a tour" as "try to keep up with our guide as he gunned it." Also, we rode back to the ranch for about 10 miles on city streets. Seriously. We even went through two rotaries on ATVs as the cars and trucks whizzed by us.

-I am lucky to have returned from our trip with fingernails. I had some fake ones put on for the wedding and still had them on, of course, in Aruba. One of our activities was snorkeling off of a pirate ship. Very fun except for the part where they dropped us off in choppy waters, one woman hit her lip on the ladder trying to get back on the boat and the PH lost a mask and swallowed a gallon of sea water. But it really was fun other than that. Anyway, one part of the afternoon included the chance to use the boat's rope swing to jump of the edge of the boat, swing out over the ocean and drop into the water. A long line of people did it, including the aforementioned older (maybe 60 years old) woman who cut her lip. How hard could it be, right?
Um, the PH reports I got about a foot away from the boat before I dropped like a rock. I hit the water thinking I was going to have 10 bleeding fingers from the nails ripping off. They stayed on because these fake ones are 10 times stronger than the real ones, but I had sore fingers for the rest of the night. Apparently, soccer doesn't do much for my arm strength.

-The final memorable moment was when we got detained in the airport. We got flagged by customs officers for having gone horseback riding (hoof & mouth disease fears) and for having a sandwich that had ham in it in our bag (they didn't care about the turkey sandwich, though). We had to sanitize the shoes we wore horseback riding and throw away the ham sandwich before we were allowed to board the plane. I was just happy there was no cavity search or anything!

Anyway, we're back to the ol' grind at Chez KAT. It was a quick trip back to reality when we landed at home and the pilot announced the temperature as 30 degrees! Ugh!

Left a Miss, now a Mrs.

I'm baaaaaack! Actually, we've been back physically for a few days, but mentally, I am fighting tooth and nail to remain in Aruba (where the sun always shines and the office has no way to reach me!) Tons of stories for our dear readers from the adventure that is our honeymoon, but not a lot of time to get into details.

My job needs me right now. Not in that "Oh, no one could do as good a job as I do. Tee hee" kind of way, but in the "Oh crap, the only full-time employee at this paper just took a week and half off and, surprisingly, her non-existent assistant did not pick up the slack" kind of way. I'm swamped. But SO enjoying this whole Mrs. thing. I may be 30 (and only days away from 31! Eeek!) but I still giggle to myself when people used my new, married name. So far, I've managed to keep the glee to myself.

So one quick anecdote from the wedding of the year... lil sis asked if she could give a toast at our rehearsal dinner and, despite the fact that I gave a toast at her wedding in April and included a slightly embarrassing story from our childhood, I agreed to let her. Well, she whipped out some obscure tale about the time we duct taped ourselves together and woke my dad up by being in the bathroom together giggling. As the story goes, Dad said, "One of you get out of there and go to bed!" and our reply was, "We can't! We're stuck together!" So, ahem, just another story from our college days (just kidding, we were more like 10 and 8).

Anyway, lil sis managed not only that little gem, but a shout-out to FunnyGals that had both SJ and I frantically scanning the room to see who among the crazy relatives may have been mentioned to the extent that one of us should leave the rehearsal dinner and find a computer to begin deleting posts. Luckily, lil sis did not give out our full URL, as both SJ and I thought she was about to. Instead, she cited my hubby's moniker as the Pretend Husband and presented him with a T-shirt proclaiming him "100% Real Husband." Which, now he is.

But I'm not sure about him not being the PH anymore. So, let's do this democratically (or, as democratically as we can without giving the PH a vote). What do you think? Pretend Husband for life? Or should he be the Real Husband? Or perhaps something else entirely? Let the people speak.

T minus two days...

Wow, is there a lot going on in my life right now. If I were to try to express what's going through my head these days, it would be typed a million miles a minute and look something like this: flkjfgoijdgoisdfpifukjdbqwawudsyyfawdk;d'lkcvbpocvubixbfliadasdz!!!!!

It's a big, gooshy pile of nonsense with an occasional exclamation of "Oh! Bring a check for the organist!" and "Did I give her directions?" and "Don't forget to wrap the gift for the Pretend In-Laws." There are Post-It note reminders everywhere.

But I'm calm. Really. (Although I did just type "But I'm clam." by accident). There's really nothing that can get to me at this point (other than a major tragedy or the groom not showing, but, why bring those up? Because that won't happen.) Seriously... I heard it might snow on Friday (that would be beautiful and gorgeous and tempt me to have photos done of me making snow angels, although SJ has forbid me to lay down in the snow in my dress-- go figure!).

A couple of relatives had to back out of making the trip-- and while I wish they could be there, I understand that things come up. I mean, I'll be bummed if no one shows and I have to eat the whole buffet myself, but hey, it means more ice cream for me!

So, no worries...
The DJ forgets all her music? We get an iPod.
I trip going down the aisle? I get up, laugh and hope BAC caught it on film.
I forget the vows? I'll make them up as I go along ("I, KAT, take you, Pretend Husband, to be my real husband, to take care of me, to do the dishes and to make sure I get to go on a lot of great trips. Oh, and I love you. The End. I mean, Amen.")

Seriously, I'm excited. But not nervous (and may punch the next person who asks if I'm nervous because I've been asked about 72 times in the last four days and it's just not going to happen).

And definitely looking forward to a kick-ass party. And a week on the beach. And never having to tie another ribbon on another program as long as I live.

More of an Excited Elizabeth than a Nervous Nelly

Heeeeeeeeere's KAT! I have been out of commission for more than a week while I got the newspapers ready for the presses and had a bunch of issues with them (ha! issues! get it?). But now I'm back for a bit until my wedding next week and then I hope you'll forgive me for not posting while I'm on my honeymoon. But I'd like to take this opportunity to remind SJ that when she got married, I wrote the follow-up column for the newspaper for her (SJ was something of a local celebrity when we worked at the paper and had tons of followers for her column about her marriage preparations). So, SJ, if you were to write a follow-up about my wedding for the blog, that'd be a great payback. That's all I'm saying.

When people find out our wedding is a little over a week away, I get a lot of, "Are you nervous?" And no one believes me when I say no. I'm excited, but not nervous. What's there to be nervous about? I got my nails done today complete with a neck massage, I arrive home to find presents on my doorstep, I'm anticipating a week in Aruba and I'm marrying the love of my life. That's nothing but exciting, baby!

OK, I have a "few" tasks to complete but, eh, it'll all get done. And if it doesn't, bowls of M&Ms as centerpieces.

You know it was a good party when you're still recovering on Tuesday!

I have a feeling SJ and I have each been waiting for the other to post about our one crazy mo-fo weekend, although it was crazy for her in the sense that she had to organize, set up, decorate, run and clean up a Jack & Jill for the Pretend Husband and I, while it was crazy for me because I drank an entire beer* poured down the ice luge into my waiting mouth. Whoo-hoo! (I don't even drink beer, so that was quite the accomplishment for me!)

* By entire beer, I might actually mean "a portion of a can of beer before I tagged the PH in to finish it. But, still, as someone who has never had more than a sip of beer at a time, I was impressed by the effort.

SJ and her hubby and the rest of our wedding party pulled off a very kick-ass Jack & Jill with a hoedown theme, horseshoes, the aforementioned ice luge with yummy vodka and tequila shots, some very cool raffle prizes and delicious desserts that are still tempting me from the fridge. It was a great day and, best of all, it replaced the traditional bridal shower with games, food and, most scary to me, everyone staring at the bride-to-be as she opens gifts and expresses her surprise/gratitude. Uh yeah, I'll take an ice luge over that anyday!

Another reason it was a very cool party was the presence of s (of Two Black Cats fame) and her very cute cowboy son, as well as frequent commenter Anonymous and her husband (whose marriage advice to me was, "May all your ups and downs be between the sheets"... I'm thinking of incorporating that into the marriage ceremony in some way-- do you think the priest would mind?) We also had lots of family and friends who contributed in many different ways. One of my favorite moments was hanging out at the luge and turning around to see three of the PH's aunts in line with dollar bills in their hand, waiting for their turn to suck down a shot. I can't wait to marry into that family!

Of course, having everyone talk about our upcoming wedding made me realize just how many little details I have to get done in the next month. Although, as I said at the Jack & Jill, so a couple of tables at the reception are missing centerpieces! I promised that any tables without them would get a bowl of M&Ms instead... and not only did I not get any complaints, but I had friends volunteering to sit at those tables.

We're gonna party like it's 1999...

We met with our wedding DJ last night to go over the details for that big par-tay we're throwing next month. I got a kick out of how happy she was when we told her she doesn't have to worry about announcing us, a cake cutting song, a garter toss song and some other stuff she normally has to do. We even burned songs onto a couple of CDs for her.

One of the things we had to do was go through a list of all the music she has and choose at least 30 songs for her to play. I guess I never realized that the bride and groom choose the specific songs played at their receptions-- which makes me wonder why I've ever had to dance to "Shout," let alone at every wedding I've ever been to. Actually, that was answered for us too, because, as much as we wanted things to be "different" and "cool," our DJ explained to us that there are old favorites that tend to get people out on the dance floor. I cringed a little as I checked off "1999" and "Love Shack," but I do prefer a wedding reception where everyone is dancing and having a great time to one where everyone stays seated while the DJ plays music that only the PH and I like (or, in the case of country music, only I like).

And my secret dream? A dance off. When my friend, Mrs. Cheech, got married a few years ago, everyone-- including many of the older folks-- ended up in a big circle on the dance floor, taking turns going into the middle of the circle and busting moves like only white, suburban non-dancers can. There were a lot of robots and sprinklers that night. But it was a blast. No one cared what they looked like, everyone was laughing and it's a night I'll always remember.

This is advance warning to the wedding par-tay... if you happen to be sitting down when the old-school 80s rap comes on, I'm going to need to see you on the dance floor. Bring it.

It's my wedding and I'll do what I want to...

I've been a bad, bad blogger. But wait, I've got excuses! I was deep in the pits of work hell last week and then I spent the weekend plotting my escape from work hell and doing wedding stuff (a hell of its own, I might add, and I have the scratches on my hands to prove it!)

But now I'm back. And that's got to count for something. We went to one of the weddings SJ mentioned in her weekend of two weddings and a kids birthday party. We're next to get married in that group of friends and I was asked no less than three times that weekend how many days left until our wedding.

Apparently, it's something brides pay attention to. Well, brides who aren't me.

"Ummm, less than two months, but more than one?" (We've been sort of counting the months if we think of it on the day...) Is this something I'm supposed to know?

I feel like sort of a bridal failure. But then again, we're headed toward the type of wedding the Pretend Husband and I really want and not what others think we "should" have.

For example, I'm not wearing a veil. People have tried to convince me that I should wear one so I look like a bride. But, well, I'm going to be the one at the front of the church exchanging vows with the guy in the tux so I think it's going to be pretty obvious who the bride is.

And I'm not having a shower (despite the PH's best efforts...) We're having a kick-ass Jack and Jill party instead (I know it's going to be kick ass because SJ and my other kick ass wedding partiers are planning it).

Oh, and no wedding cake. No bouquet toss. No garter. Instead, we're going for single roses with a little ceremony to explain their meaning. And great music at the reception. Oh, and an ice cream sundae bar. With nine additional desserts.

Somehow, I don't think anyone is going to miss having cake.

Rantings from a crazy bride-to-be

I was really excited to get home from work yesterday and check the mail because it was the first possible day to get an RSVP card for our wedding. And I knew I wouldn’t be disappointed because a friend had already told me hers was on the way. So, I opened the mailbox expecting to find one of those little white envelopes… and found 12! That’s 24 people who want to come to our wedding!

Here’s what ran through my mind:
* Yay! We are loved by at least 24 people! It’s going to be a fun wedding! Whoo!

* Do I even know 24 people? I guess I do.

* Oh crap! What if everyone who received an invitation wants to come? (We need 20 people to say no, due to the restrictions at the place we’re having the reception)

* I wonder if SJ will be able to come? What if she’s busy that day? The bridal party will be uneven! (Actually, it would make the bridal party even if she missed the wedding, but again uneven if she kept her hubby home with her. This is all very complicated and not very important. As long as she can make it. OK, I’m overthinking this.)

Then the Pretend Husband came home, listened as I went through the list of people who can make it, listened as I lamented that we could be screwed if at least a couple don’t start responding with “no” and then said, “Is there anyone I forgot to invite? Let me go through my phone and see if I missed anyone.”

That’s when I told him in a very calm voice that I had been working on the invite list for months and had spent many, many, MANY hours putting the invitations together by hand and had asked him multiple times if there was anyone he wanted to add to the list. Then I punched him in the head for even bringing it up. The End.

I just licked 80 envelopes... blech!

Well, I jinxed myself. I revealed on Wednesday that I was trying to post every day this week. And then I missed posting on Thursday. But I'm OK with it. I left work early because I was feeling quite crappy with stuffed sinuses, a drippy nose and puffy eyes. It was a sad sight until I got home and medicated myself right up.

But the good news is that, after staying up late with the Pretend Husband last night, I am able to check an item off of our wedding "to do" list... and it's a BIG item. Our invitations are signed, sealed and on their way to being delivered! Yay!

With this, the stripping of the wallpaper in the kitchen I've been doing and everything I've finished for work this week, I'm not sure I can handle being so productive. What if it raises everyone's standards and I'm expected to get this much done every week?!?

On a separate note, it continues to freak me out when I mention something to my friends and they say, "I know, I read about it on the blog." I think, like when I was a newspaper reporter, I tend to forget that there are real, live people on the other end reading what I write. I think I may need to start holding back a little on the blog so I have some original material when I see people in real life! Otherwise, what's the motivation for anyone to hang out with me?

Girls Gone (sort of) Wild

I survived! Four days of chocolate martinis, good friends, good food and a bit of work around the house mixed in. What a weekend (in a good way).

The fun actually began early last week when I spent hours cleaning the house from top to bottom (note to Mrs. Matt: I’m just kidding. My house is always that clean.) Vacuuming, changing sheets, scrubbing the bathrooms… The Pretend Husband commented that we should have people stay over every week if it will prompt me to clean (I may have thrown a sponge at his head for that one.)

But it was worth it because Thursday night was spent with five fabulous women and more than my share of chocolate martinis. It was almost like a marriage counseling session as we talked about all the issues of engagement and marriage– what to call your mother-in-law? (I call mine by her first name, Mrs. Cheech calls hers by a nickname and Mrs. Matt uses the “Hey, you!” approach). When are you planning to start having kids? (That’s the point where the PH and BAC took off at a full sprint for some guy bonding). Does your husband ever [fill in blank]? (“Oh yes, he does. And it’s very, very annoying. I wish he would stop!” was the general consensus.)

Fear not, our alcohol consumption was kept to levels low enough to allow us to wake up at a decent time the next morning and spend a couple of hours assembling wedding centerpieces. I am so grateful to Mrs. Cheech and Mrs. Matt for their hard work (and to Mrs. BAC for her offer to help if she hadn’t had to rush her husband to the doctor).

Having Mrs. Matt see our house for the first time– and the fact that some of the tour included, “What we’re going to do in here…”– was enough incentive for me to spend most of the rest of the afternoon peeling three layers of (ugly, ugly) wallpaper off part of the kitchen. And because yesterday wasn’t hot enough on its own, I fired up the steamer again to finish the project, leaving just one layer of wallpaper to take off the rest of the kitchen. The advantage was the free facial I gave myself and impressing Molly by making it rain from the ceiling when the steam built up and then began dripping.

Most of all, I was reminded about how good it feels to kick back with good friends, to share sweet drinks, to laugh until it hurts, to know that you’re not alone in some of the things you put up with, to have your wedding work diminished, to be able to look around the room and think, “It doesn’t get any better than this.”

To SJ, Mrs. Cheech, Mrs. Matt, Mrs. BAC and Max’s Mom… thanks! Now, when can we do it again?

Thish ish sucsh a gooooood drink....

It’s FRIIIIIII-DAAAAAAYYYY! (Actually, it’s not. It’s Thursday. But I’m not drunk– yet. I should clarify that it’s MY Friday because I’m taking tomorrow off so, therefore, today feels like the last day of the workweek, otherwise known as Friday.)

Anyway, it’s my Friday. And, while I haven’t been drinking on Fridays lately because of that whole getting up early on Saturdays thing, I will be implementing a new rule tonight in honor of my day off. That rule is, when Thursday feels like a Friday and friends are in town, drink like you’re 23 (slightly more responsible than drinking like you’re 21, but still fun).

I have two wonderful members of our wedding party coming to visit tonight (for a sleepover). We will be joined by another wonderful wedding party member and two cool chicks for chocolate martinis, chocolate cupcakes (from Cupcakes by SJ or The Cupcakery or whatever she’s calling her business idea these days) and another chocolate dish. If those get boring, we can always pour chocolate syrup straight from the bottle into our mouths (you laugh, but I’ve done it).

I figure all this chocolate is a small price to pay for three of these ladies helping me assemble wedding centerpieces tomorrow. Man, it pays to know teachers! I’ll be back when the debauchery is done.

This post is better than nothing.

It’s the dog days of summer where half your coworkers are on vacation, the other half are doing everything they can to keep you from getting anything done and you’re cruising the Internet from blog to blog trying to find something interesting to keep you awake read.

KAT to the rescue! I don’t have too much to report, other than the continuation of the wedding plans (OK, I probably lost at least half the audience after giving that away, but I’m going to soldier on for the one person left reading rest of you). By the way, you can blame my friend Tiffany (not her real name, but you can probably ascertain what fabulously glamorous company she works for, can’t you?) for my posting without anything interesting to report. Although Tiffany and I have been terrible about keeping in touch, we finally got a chance to chat the other night and she mentioned that, although I have no idea what’s going in her life, she does check up on mine every once in awhile by reading FunnyGals. Although– ahem, Tiffany– she has yet to leave a comment to prove her readership.

Anyhoo, the wedding plans progress, with a break every once in awhile for either the Pretend Husband or I to exclaim, “Oh my god, we’re getting married!” or “It’s really going to happen!”

This was a particularly productive weekend as I raced to Massachusetts for a whirlwind visit with college friend (and wedding party member) MM and her husband MM. Then (the female) MM and I went to pick up my wedding band, which is all sparkly and shiny and very hard to take off (because it’s so beautiful, not because I have fat fingers or anything!)

Then I spent Sunday shopping with the Pretend Mother-in-Law and K, who have the best luck ever when it comes to shopping. The PMIL tried on one outfit, which ended up being absolutely perfect and that’s the one she bought to wear to the wedding…. And did I mention it cost only $30? Then K found not one, but three outfits, any of which are perfect wedding attire. Then we went shoe shopping and not only did they find perfect shoes to wear to the wedding, but I did too! (And I wasn’t even looking). I should mention that I’m not wearing a traditional wedding gown so finding matching shoes is a bit harder than finding the perfect white pair (and that’s all the hinting I’m going to do about that until after the wedding).

As though all that wasn’t productive enough, I spent my entire evening yesterday finishing gluing all the parts of the invitations together and beginning to address the envelopes (because it wouldn’t be a KAT wedding if I didn’t do all the crafty stuff myself). And I convinced MM to come visit next week to help me assemble the centerpieces in exchange for my friendship chocolate and martinis.

My goal is to get all of my tasks out of the way so the weeks (perhaps "days" is more realistic) before the wedding are relaxing and fun and meaningful. I’d much rather be able to spend time visiting with people traveling to see us, getting my nails done and thinking about marrying my sweetie than trying to assemble everything at the last minute. And being able to eat chocolate and drink martinis while getting there is just icing on the cake.

Random facts you could have lived without

Let’s see, I’ve told you about my grooming habits, how I got engaged,how it feels to have puke down the inside of my shirt… really, is there anything left to share?

Oh, but there is! And since I’m bored at work and have some random semi-posts rattling around in my head that I can’t seem to make an entire post out of, I’ve picked rightthissecond as the perfect time to share.

– I appreciated Molly’s suggestion to try dying my hair now that I’m noticing tons of grey in it. Actually, it made me giggle because I’ve actually been dying my hair since I was in the eighth grade. At first, it was because I preferred reddish highlights to my natural blond-ish ones, but now it’s serving an important purpose (making people not mistake me for SJ’s mom when we’re out together!) I really can’t blame anyone but myself for the grey because I’ve just been too lazy to cover it up.

– We visited a house under construction yesterday that belongs to friends of ours. It’s a gorgeous, huge home at which I am looking forward to plenty of parties. But I’m filing this under the “I’m officially old” category because my first thought when we walked in was, “Boy, am I glad I don’t have to clean this!”

– The Pretend Husband and I have an ongoing argument about farting in bed (I warned you about not needing to know this stuff!) He refuses to stop, so I’ve taken to launching my own attack, so to speak. But it seems kind of hypocritical so, when he gets angry, I’ve tried to argue that guys’ farts are terrible, but girls’ farts are actually unicorn kisses. This morning, I sang a whole song about unicorn kisses, but I don’t think he bought it.

– In my quest to lower my cholesterol and lose weight for the wedding, I’ve been eating tons of cereal, fruits and vegetables– foods that are all very high in fiber. Let’s just say there have been a lot of unicorns flying around blowing kisses in our house lately.

– I have so far failed in my quest to get the digits of a woman we met in the dog park (with the PH egging me on, no less). But I’m working on it. Before you get too enthralled with this, it’s because our dogs get along great. And she seems like a nice person. And perhaps she’s into threesomes too (just kidding about that one!) Anyway, it’s because our dogs get along and it would be nice to be able to call her up and see when she’ll be at the dog park because she’s also fun to talk to.

And I’m officially getting married in less than four months so why am I spending time sharing way too much information with strangers when I could be assembling invitations? Back to work, KAT!

The dog ate my wedding invitation

Oh, if only I were joking. After months of planning and printing and cutting and coordinating, I have so far put together a grand total of ONE wedding invitation. And then the dog ate it.

Molly seemed awfully quiet for an awfully long time this morning while I was working in the office and she was downstairs alone. So I went to investigate. And I found that, despite months of not destroying anything (other than a stray receipt the other day, but I don’t count it) and the fact that my one done invitation has been at a reachable level for her for about two weeks, Molly decided to go to town on it today. And now it’s in pieces. I told her that was her invitation and since she destroyed it, she’s not going to know where or when our wedding is being held and therefore, is no longer welcome to attend.

The larger problem is the fact that I started counting up all the pieces of the invitations yesterday and found I’m 10 or 20 short on the paper that is the basis of the whole thing. So, um, I’m not sure what I’m going to do about that. Do you think people will mind taking a look at their invitation and then passing it on to their friend? My mind has been cranking through the options and I think the best idea is to purchase some paper that will definitely be different than the two others I already have (which is no longer being produced or, at the least, is not available anywhere in the two states I’ve checked). So there will be three versions of our invitations, including the one I’m going to call “my favorite” and the one I’ll call “second best” and the one I’ll call “oh crap, I didn’t have enough paper so if you’re getting this one you should know you are still invited, but are not among the people who must be there or I’ll die. But, you know, it would still be nice to see you again.”

I will not tell which is which, but SJ should rest assured she’s getting the first one, especially because she just called to tell me she’ll be over Sunday to help assemble the invites. That has put her so far up in the “my favorite” category that I’ll have to handwrite one and have it delivered by a singing telegram guy on a white horse if she does one more thing to help with this wedding.

I’m hot, blah, blah, I know it, you know it… next subject.

Since you’re probably well over hearing how I’m so attractive that both sexes feel compelled to hit on me every chance they get, I thought I’ll talk about something completely different this time. Instead, I’m here to announce that the future is here (climactic music, please).

To explain, the Pretend Husband and I started what we called “The Future Fund” waaaay back before we bought our money pit house. We put money in the account religiously (to the point where I haven’t bought a new pair of shoes in like, 17 years) and– amazing how this happens!– the balance began to grow. I think this was about the same time I became an adult and realized that not spending money on things like shoes (did I mention how long it’s been since I bought a new pair?), clothes, cute curtains and boozy nights out, meant I had more money to save. Crazy, isn’t it?

So the Future Fund has been steadily growing, with a couple of withdrawals here and there (including the one I experienced when I realized I hadn’t bought new shoes in a year!) for expenses like oh, a new house. But a new house requires surprisingly less money to buy than you would think (I think I may have signed something saying I would birth the mortgage broker’s children, but at least I didn’t have to put much money down!) so the Future Fund has stayed pretty fat and healthy.

Until Friday (ominous music, please). When we bought the money sucker house, our inspector told us we would need to upgrade the electrical system from the hamster running in the wheel that currently powers everything. We will need to get a real, live fuse box, but this time without actual fuses (what do you call the new version, a “flippy-switch box” perhaps?) And I guess we’ll throw in things like new and improved wiring that is less likely to catch fire in our walls and stuff that will actually be able to handle our power usage (I’m just now realizing there are some people in the world who are able to run their washer and their stove at the same time!)

Anyway, I just learned that this kind of upgrade doesn’t come cheap. So the Future Fund is going to resemble the change found under the couch cushions more than an actual bank account. If we’re lucky, we might have enough left over to get married.

In the meantime, get running Hammie, I’ve got laundry to do!

A wedding planner would be nice right about now...

So a friend who's getting married about six weeks before us casually mentioned the other day that she was getting her invitations ready to mail. And I freaked out just a little bit. Because, although I had in my mind a vision of exactly what our invitations will look like... and I had bought all the paper I needed to make the vision a reality... I hadn't made even one. Ah, the joy of a do-it-yourself wedding, huh?

So I freaked out some more and did just about the only thing that will bring me down off the cliff when I'm stressed... I ate ice cream. Then I got to work and wrote down a list of everything I need to get done before our wedding in one... two... three... four... ohmygodfivemonthsI'llnevergeteverythingdoneintime! It's a full page and includes really easy tasks like "Call the coordinator at the reception place" but it also includes stuff like "Bead enough roses (which take eight hours each)to make a bouquet." It's not fair that each takes up the same amount of lines, but I couldn't figure out a way to weight the tasks accordingly.

In the three days since I've had the list, I've accomplished exactly one task (actually, more like half of one task) by printing out the invitations, which now need to be cut and glued onto fancy paper. I tried to get the Pretend Husband to take over the task, but he very succinctly announced that, if the project were left up to him, our guests would be invited either by a handwritten note on notebook paper or an email. (And now it's obvious to me why the grooms are rarely left in charge of the wedding planning!)

So, there's some deep breathing going on in our house today as I convince myself it will all work out in the end. And the fact that we decided to buy a new house, paint said house ourselves, travel out of state for two weddings, attend two other weddings, work a job on the weekend and plan our wedding all in the same year... well, it hasn't killed me yet. But if I don't post for awhile, you may want to send SJ over to check on me... I could use the extra hands to glue invites.

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful...

I think I’m finally over the trauma that was getting my hair and make-up “done” for Lil Sis' wedding last weekend enough to talk about it (that, and perhaps I went out to dinner last night with two very fun couples and tested the story out on them– getting the timing and jokes just right– before putting it out on the Internet. You never know.)

Anyway, it all started when we walked into the salon and Lil Sis was greeted by the owner, ushered to a chair, fawned over by all the employees about how it was her special daaaaay and generally pampered. My stylist came over, looked me over with a critical eye and said, “You’re here for a trim?” “Um no, I’m here for an updo.” She proceeded to tell me my hair was too short for an updo but she’d see what she could do. She also asked me when I last had my hair cut in a snooty manner and kept sighing while trying to get my hair to stay up (it’s not that short). Oh, and my favorite comment was, “I love to do updos. I just start and see what happens. You never know how it’s going to come out.” Because that boded well for how I was going to look for all eternity in my sis’ wedding photos!

It was by far the most painful hairstyling experience I’ve ever had… literally. I don’t think the stylist was pinning up my hair as much as she was jabbing the pins into my scalp to hold the hair up. I kept wincing and at one point had tears in my eyes from the pain of it all. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care. The kicker was when she couldn’t get a couple of hairs along my neck to stay in the updo, so she cut them off! In any case, she finished up and the experience was pretty much forgotten after a few minutes with the make-up “artist.”

The make-up artist who was wearing blue eye shadow up to her eyebrows and bright pink lipstick. The artist who smeared bright red lipstick way past my lip line and only cut it back after I pointed out how ridiculous it looked. The same one who wiped it off but– oops!– it had stained my skin a bright pink color. So she added a purple line at the edge of my lips. Picture bright red lips, lined in purple with a not-so-faint pink line surrounding it all. I looked like a clown.

After practically begging her to add some foundation around my mouth, we made our escape (but not before dropping almost $100 for the privilege of being worked on by the “stylist” and the “artist.”) The Pretend Husband’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline when he saw me. I give him a lot of credit because his only comment was, “That’s a very red lipstick.” (I think it was followed by, “Are you going to take some of that off?”)

So I scrubbed off the red, purple and pink and added a more subtle pink to cover the stains. Lil Sis covered up some of purple lipstick they had covered her mouth with. And, judging by the photos I’ve seen so far, the overall effect wasn’t half bad. But I’m seriously considering doing my own hair and make-up for my wedding. It’s sure to be a lot less painful for everyone.

How I know I'm old...

The Pretend Husband and I (along with SJ and Jason and all of our crazy jokes) went out of state this weekend and bought me a gorgeous, sparkly wedding band with more diamonds than I've ever owned.

And yet...

I'm slightly more excited about the pantry the PH constructed and painted for me.

My, how things change when you hit 30!