On Things Planned and Needed June 30, 2009

This past week I spent time in NEPA/in Pittsburgh with The Boy’s family/at my wedding venue (my uncle’s lovely property in the Harrisburg area).

I bought a wedding gown. I had two birthday cakes. I brought home a pistol purchased for me on the day I was born. I jumped on my trampoline, met with my flower lady, at a lot of lovely bbq chicken, and got a haircut.

It was lovely.

Wedding planning is coming along swimmingly. I think we’ve decided on the location for the ceremony/reception (i.e.  Which part of the gorgeous property will each part of the day take place).  My lovely cousin and her newlywed friend are working on my invitation designs. We narrowed our guest list to our goal of 100 people. We decided on our time of day (evening) and are figuring out how the day will then progress (rehearsal luncheon?).

We’re currently working on what we’ve dubbed “The Big Three” of wedding planning decisions:

• trying to find a caterer who will do what we want (heavy appetizers [hopefully a mashed potato martini bar!!] and desserts in lieu of a full dinner) for a good price
• trying to find a wedding photographer who is up to my high standards and not outrageously expensive
• trying to decide on our music (dj? live band? live band + ipod? jukebox? So. Many. Choices.)

So, freaders, if you have any suggestions and/or know any exceptional vendors in the HARRISBURG PA area, please help a chica out.

Confessions: Bad Blogger Behavior June 29, 2009

1. I read over twenty blogs regularly and comment regularly to about 3.

2. I squee a little when a new commenter shows up and die a little inside when I realize their blog will make me prove I’m human every time I want to comment.

3. I don’t understand the attraction to Dooce.

4. I have yet to meet a fellow blogger (Can we fix this? Please?!)

5. I don’t spell check as often as I should.

6. I tend to hit publish before I reread my material.

7. I exist in a state of semi-anonymity which means I can’t a) use my blog as a self-promotional tool, b) advertise via facebook, c) write about my vagina….much.

8.I still check up on my favorite defunct blogger with hopes she’ll magically return.

9. I’m still a little bitter about the sweet treat exchange ( I never got my sweets!)

10. I will unfollow you on twitter if you start to promote websites, continually retweet, and/or go overboard on Music Monday.

Nobody Likes You When You’re Twenty Three June 25, 2009

Let’s hope that doesn’t hold true for me!

Happy Birthday to ME! Horray!

This birthday comes with a little sadness. I’m mourning the loss of my 22nd year. It was definitely a good one. I met The Boy, we got engaged, I finished my degree, I moved out of state, I lived with Alex Mac, I survived an awful roommate situation (Not AlexMac), I wrote a thesis, I grew my hair, I perfected my omelet flip….

Twenty two was a momentous year.
I always thought it would be a Big Important one and I was certainly correct. And twenty three? Twenty three is looking pretty darn awesome.

**Dear Internets, If you would like to see a photo of The Dress send me an email or request it in the comments and I’ll email you the link.  I won’t be posting photos of it on  le Blog until the after the wedding because the one wedding supersition/tradition I like is the whole “The Groom Can’t See The Gown” thing.  My address is ablogofherownATgmailDOTcom****

When I’m Old Wednesday: Thursday Edition June 25, 2009

Ok, so I missed WIOW yesterday because I was busy BUYING A WEDDING GOWN. I figured you’d understand.

As the internet and my mother predicted, I bought the first one I tried on. Once I put it back on I just knew. It just felt better, you know?

I was still unsure about the whole strapless thing and had asked the saleswoman about the possibility of a jacket or a bolero or something when she suggested detachable sleeves. What? You mean I can have my sleeves and leave them too? With that alteration and a minor train-related change I have my dream dress!

Ahhhh! I’m so excited! I kinda want to keep visiting it in the store. If I wasn’t sure the saleswoman would be completely irritated I just might.

And now, for the real reason why you’re here….

When I’m old I’ll accompany my daughter/granddaughter to bridal salons, sneak in a camera, take a slew of  pictures, make suggestions, and treat us all  to soft serve for lunch.
When I’m old I want to be just like my mom*.

*Who would be absolutely devastated if I actually called her old, she’s not. At all. And she’s horrified at the Old Lady-ness of all the Mother of The Bride dresses. Any non-old lady dress suggestions? She’d prefer something not long, not beaded, not pleated and not mauve. Thanks Internets!

“Dress Hunting,” alternately titled “My Mother Is Tired of Bridal Salons” June 23, 2009

Every time I’ve needed a dress, (formals, proms, weddings, parties,) the same thing has occurred:

I try on a dress.

I like the dress.

I can’t commit to the dress.

I try on fifty other dresses.

I go to five more stores.

I try on fifty more dresses.

I admit I like the first one the best.

I buy the first dress I tried on.

In my search for wedding gowns today I fell in deep like with the first gown I put on.

It fit like a glove.
It made my mom catch her breath.
And it is on sale.

Having watched enough “Say Yes to the Dress” to know that MOST brides buy the first dress they try on I thought, “I will not settle for the first dress! I must try multiple dresses! I will not be in the 80%!”

Then I tried on about 100 others and, still in deep lust with the first dress, I thought I was going to be in that dreaded 80%. Then the LAST dress I tried on…was absolutely gorgeous.

And on sale.

Both dresses are the same price.

I am completely deadlocked.

The dresses are completely different. One is strapless, one is sleeved. One would require a lot of adjustments. One fits almost perfectly.

I am the reigning Queen of Indecision.

Songs in Ex-Major, alternately titled: Ruined Tunes June 18, 2009

You know those songs you flip off the radio because the first few bars can immediately take you back to a memory you’d rather forget?
I hate those songs.
I of course, have a slew of such songs hidden the nooks and crannies of my brainpeice. Being that I’m #1) a girl, and b) terminally sappy, I’ve associated many a’romantic hope and dream with a particular song or sometimes, tragically, an ARTIST. Hence, there are many tracks in my playlists that I still have to skip over when they show up in my shuffle.

For instance, I’ve just recently become comfortable listening to These Are The Moments thanks to a bad high school break up. Along those same lines I sometimes get a little nostalgic listening to Baby Look At US and Ani Difranco’s Heart Break Even still gets me a bit teary.

On the other side of things, The Boy Is Mine takes me back to a ridiculous 6th grade crush and the Reproduction song from the travesty that was Grease 2 takes me back to a period of my life that I have just about wiped from my memory.

But the worst? The worst is anything by Ben Folds.
Just hearing the titles sometimes shakes me up. What’s even more depressing is that I really like Ben Folds and I can not wait for the day that I can listen to Not the Same or Luckiest or Bruised without getting all teary and heart sore.

But I’m sure it’s coming. I got These Are The Moments back….six years later.

What are your favorite ruined tunes?

When I’m Old Wednesday June 17, 2009

When I’m old I will meet my old lady friends for lunch and cocktails.

Just like I plan to meet my young lady friends for lunch and cocktails next week when I’m back in town.

Some things just shouldn’t change.

It’s Hard Out Here For A Pimp June 16, 2009

And for me.

And I am decidedly not a pimp.

Unless you count that one time…

anyway.

Yes. Things are hard. The economy makes me want to cry. It’s ten days till the end of my 22nd year on the planet and I’m still unemployed. I am, however, the “Associate Editor” of a publication  (read: editing/writing/and organizing freelance bitch) and a marketing (unpaid) apprentice to the most talkative man on the planet.

Seriously kids, he amazes me. He talks and talks and talks and talks. I guess being an ex-broker turned salesman turned big wig turned speaker turned writer does that to a person. Still, I am a woman of few (audible) words and I like to be concise.

Unless, of course, we’re talking about SATC or Gilmore Girls or my theories on how I could single-handily revamp the education and health care systems to ones that work and are affordable…ATTENTION GOVERNMENT BIG WIGS –HIRE ME!

Anyway, at least when I’m speaking I tend to be concise. Long drawn out stories with a point at the very end make me crazy. Get to the point, Nancy. This man only kept us for two hours today and my yawn-o-meter was beeping like crazy. However, on the odd occasion we stumble onto a topic of actual interest to me (like marketing concepts) I enjoy myself. We’re supposed to thinking about out of the box ways to market, and that, my friends, is right up my alley.

So, we’ll see how this goes.

In the meantime I’m checking out volunteer opportunities, helping my brother unflunk a class, hanging out with Jillian Michaels, and consistently making too much food for two people.

Such is the life.

of a Suburban Housewife Fiance

Watch it. You’ll thank me. Just know it’s NSFW. Sally’s blog is here.
You’re welcome.

Practically Perfect in Every Way June 15, 2009

I stole this from DJ Brandy a few weeks back and just now found myself without a whole lot of blog-able material and a little more time on my hands to do it. In the past few days a few things have happened that are worth sharing with my Oh-So-Interested readers…

1. I’ve just finished my first freelance project, netting me a respectable amount of money and the title of “Associate Editor”
2. Tomorrow I start a Marketing apprentice program. It’s 6 weeks long, unpaid, and may lead to a job. I’m bored and unemployed. Win-win.
3. I leave on Sunday to spend a week in NEPA. If you’re going to be around, let’s make a date!
4. It’s The Boy’s birthday! Hooray! He’s old! I am a sucky fiance because I did not get him anything more than a card, and a certificate for an IOU on the gift I wanted to get him, and, you know, a great deal of sexytime.

Now, on to the show….

• The perfect outfit: Jeans with a perfect fit, comfortable knock-out heels, and a basic black shirt. Add in some nail polish, my ” I have more than 2 minutes to do this” hair and makeup routine and we’re stylin.
• The perfect meal: BBQ chicken, fresh green beans with almonds, garlic mashed potatoes, and an ice cream cone.
  
• The perfect hangover cure: A banana, half a regular coke, and B12.
• The perfect road trip: An automobile with enough space for two of my best friends, me, and all our shit. Back roads as much as possible. Tiny one horse towns. Diners. Three ipods full of tune-age. A west coast destination.
• The perfect facial feature: Hmmm, it’s a tie between white teeth and shaped, cleaned up, eyebrows.
• The perfect drink: Water with lemon, and the perfect amount of ice; though right now I could go for an AlexMac-Inspired Water with a Splash of Limeade.
• The perfect song: Evolve, Ani Difranco. Really the whole album is perfection.
• The perfect sign of affection: A hug from behind with a neck kiss. You know the move. It feels so comfy and butterfly-y.
• The perfect afternoon: A blog post published, a book and a hammock and a drink with a bendy straw; followed by chit chat, drinks, and mid afternoon snacks with the people who make me laugh.
• The perfect vacation: Spring Break 2008. Three girls, Connecticut in the off season, an inn to ourselves, Gilmore Girls marathon, junk food, adventures in horse-riding, shopping, a mini-road trip, and the best italian food I’ve had in the States.
• The perfect invention: I could cope out and say The Internet, but how about we go with the microwave. After living without one for a few days I was made entirely too aware of how important it is to my daily existence. “What do you mean I need to heat soup in a pot?!”
  
• The perfect type of wedding: Outdoors, early June, small guest list, ice cream, dancing….basically the one I’m planning.
• The perfect album: I already mentioned this, Evolve by Ani Difranco.  I own the majority of her work and I tend to like the more angry, older stuff, but this album is my absolute favorite.
• The perfect accent: Irish. Sigh. I always said I wanted to marry a tall, dark haired, sweater wearing, irish accent-ed boy. I even asked The Boy if he would consider attempting to develop an Irish accent to become my Perfect Man. He said a Pittsburgh accent and “We Say Pop Instead of Soda Even Though It’s Entirely WRONG” colloquisms is all I’m going to get. Oh well, 3 out of 4 ain’t bad.
• The perfect date: My perfect date? Dinner and drinks on a patio and dessert at Barnes & Noble’s.
• The perfect weather: 80 degrees, breezy, with puffy clouds.
• The perfect party: My uncle’s Labor Day party/St. Patrick’s Day-lots of people, lots of music, lots of food, lots of booze=lots of fun or lots of hangovers…either way it’s perfect.
• The perfect sport: Rifle. If you’re not perfect, you lose. If you’re perfect, you might still lose to someone slightly more perfect. (Tangent Ahead: If this was twitter, and I had unlimited characters, I’d follow this point with the following #Ilostthestatechampionshipwithatied-pointscoreandi’mstillslightlybitter
• The perfect thing to say: “You constantly inspire me.”  “Your ass is fantastic” is a close second.
• The perfect day of the week: “Thursday. It has the excitement of a Friday but with better television programming.” -Brandy

  I could not have said it better myself.

525,600 Minutes June 12, 2009

A year from today I’ll be married.

It seems so unreal. For the most part I’ve settled into the “I’m engaged” feeling. Two months into our engagement and the awkwardness of the phrase “my fiance” has worn off. Now it feels warm and comfortable. I’m excited to embark on this journey, to have the same feelings or weird surrealism that fades to normalcy after we’ve been married for a few months…after we’ve been homeowners for a few months…after we’ve been parents for a few months…after all the big life changing events.

Committing your life to another person’s is hard. And living my life for the past month has made that even more obvious. It’s been difficult to see my marriage role models go through one of their most challenging times. I’m still not sure how things will play out, but for right now they’re trying to work out their issues. I questioned whether this “working on things” was being done for the right reasons. I wrongfully thought that their choice to stay together and work through their problems was the easy way out; after 26 years together it just seemed like dividing now would be more work than staying through the tough times. I was told that I was wrong. That it would be way easier to leave, to wash your hands of the situation, but that’s not what you do in a marriage.

In a marriage you promise to work at it. You promise to put up with each other even when you don’t really want to. You promise to let bygones be bygones sometimes. You promise that after the arguments and the eye rolling you’ll lie down next to each other at night. It’s a promise you make, a choice you make, every day.

A year ago today I met The Boy.

Within that year I made a series of choices. A choice to answer my phone when he called. A choice to take a chance on a long distance relationship. A choice to move our relationship into a place of seriousness. A choice to move 400 miles from my friends and family. A choice to promise to marry him.

Now that we’re engaged the choices haven’t stopped. I wake up choosing him. I go to sleep, snuggled next to him, by choice every night. I choose to apologize when I hurt his feelings, even if I think he’s over reacting. I choose him. Again. And again. And again.

A year from today I’ll marry him.
I’ll choose hundreds of details in the midst of planning our wedding. Colors, food, music, clothing, photographers, invitations. Choices and choices and choices. For someone as indecisive as me, it’s already overwhelming. But I am sure that when we write our vows, “I choose you” will be included. As will “I will choose you.” Because when you stop choosing each other the relationship begins to fade into a partnership of  habit and convenience. Choosing each other, every day, is what makes the difference.

A year ago today I met him.
A year from today I’ll marry him.

It’ll be the best choice I ever make.