leaping leprechauns... I'm back!

This time of year just makes me feel like this picture (taken on Singing Beach in Manchester-by-the-Sea of The Fiancé... my own little leprechaun)... happy and carefree. This feeling may be induced (ok, is induced) by my brief hiatus from all responsibility... hence, no blogging, no working, no anything, really. Everyone needs that now and then, no?

We just returned from the holidays in New England with The Fiancé's family. I must confess spending the week apart from my parents, sister, brother-in-law and Bailee was more difficult than I'd anticipated. If we could shrink the surface of the Earth and make both of our families live close to us and to each other, that would be ideal. But that's simply not our reality, so the new reality is holidays divided between families. If I said I didn't deteriorate at one point and consider jumping on a plane back home, that would be a lie. However, the feeling was more indicative of my love for my immediate family than any lack of love felt in The Fiancé's family.

...Besides, The Fiancé's family exchanges presents (we gave up gift-giving in my family recently [I was the lone hold-out the past few years still demanding gift exchange...] once it was agreed that it was silly to buy presents for sane adults who are capable of buying whatever they need when they need it... oh, and then there's that whole wedding they're throwing us this year, making a request for additional gifts seem a bit superfluous).

The irony of the whole his-family, my-family holiday celebration division took a backseat, however, to the realization that this year, The Fiancé and I become our own family. (Or as the Fiancé called us, "our own corporate entity"... You'd think he was the attorney, not me). The new-found awareness of this fact hasn't fully sunk in yet. But I confess the feeling is somewhat akin to that photo up there.

mea culpa

I know. I know. I have been a terribly delinquent blogger lately. This thing called life keeps getting in the way of my hobbies.

Anywho, know that I'm still here, albeit less frequently. Inspiration is hard to come by when it's a whopping 7 degrees outside and Spring (and our wedding) seem like they are incomprehensibly far away. Today, the inside of my nose actually crystallized as I was walking to the train to come to work. Now, if that doesn't scream "CHICAGO IN WINTER" I'm not sure what does. I truly think the deep freeze is passing through to my brain and sapping all creativity.

As soon as I thaw out [soon] I will resume regular posting. This could be in a couple hours, could be a few days. Who knows. Like sunshine in December in Chicago, you never know when (and if) it's gonna appear.

inquiring minds want to know

If one were to be in the market for a new couch, when's the best time of year to get a good deal? Anyone know? Is it true what they say that post-holidays is a prime time ?

...just in case ... one [i.e. me] might be shopping [for a big pretty leather sectional that she has her heart set on at Macy's...]...

puff puff give

I'm just sitting here getting high on shoes... Thought I'd share today's contender for The Wedding Shoe. [For those of you keeping track, I think we're on Contender #4...]

Meet Natalia. Courtesy of Elie Tahari and Zappos Couture. She seriously makes me short of breath. I mean, just look at her and her big pretty jewel.

Detail shot...

Mmmmm... can't wait for Monday when they arrive. Ooops. Did I say that? Yep, she did it again.

bye bye lil' bud

Let me tell You what happens when You suggest putting a single orchid on every plate at Your wedding reception dinner:

You are summarily shut down.

By Your father.

And Your mother.

And finally, happy to be on his future's in-law's team so impactfully, Your fiancé.

And in this summary and consistent rejection, You realize the absurdity of Your idea. Think about it.

One orchid. It is a living thing. Well, till You chopped it from its stem and put it on a plate, anyway. It will not last. Hell, it might be dead before the night's even over. Now you have a dead flower on everyone's plate. It's not a favor. But it arguably costs more than one. It's not edible. I don't think...

Your friend Judy could wear it in her hair, but really, do You want that? Envision not just Judy, but Patty and Sarah and Jen running around with flowers in their hair at your reception. Are You a hippie? Is it 1972? Do You want that? Better yet, picture Bobby. Ahhh...seven year old Bobby... dismantling Your pricey little orchid and shredding it all over sister-Lucy's dinner plate. Yeah, not so pretty.

And in these visions, You realize that yet again in this wedding journey, You may have lost Your way just a bit. Thank goodness You have a family unapologetic enough to reign You back in.

So, as with damask, today let Us bid adieu to the lowly plated orchid. I'm okay with it letting it go. Really. *sniff*

if only I invested in Geico

Today's chuckle:

"Beware of geeks bearing formulas."
- Warren Buffett

I'm in a two-day legal seminar on financial accounting for dummies [I mean lawyers]. Apropo of current times, no? [Ironic, considering I registered for this seminar in June... I wish I was so insightful with all of the investments I made in June...]

Our lecturer shared this quote earlier today. Maybe I'm giving away my latent nerdiness, but I think it's hysterical. Especially if you read the New York Times.

a priest drives by a CVS...

"There's the CVS I go to. They have this delightful little Minute Clinic - you can see a nurse practitioner without an appointment. Very convenient," says Fr. Noah, our priest, as we drive by the CVS near his home after taking him out to dinner this past Saturday night.

"Yes, well, it's both good and bad," says The Fiancé. "The Minute Clinic is also where the thief who stole Bailee's Bride's wallet charged up about $200 in drugs."

"Oh, how horrible!" exclaims Fr. Noah.

Conversation about the mediocrity of thieves ensues.

"You know though, the Minute Clinic is very convenient," Fr. Noah reiterates some time later. "I called my doctor - he's an internist, lovely fellow, very bright, professor at I.U. - in January and asked for an appointment? He couldn't fit me in till March!"

We all agree with the difficulties in obtaining physician's appointments. I think to myself, wow - the doctor turned away his priest? Note to self: don't do that when priest calls for legal help.

"See, the Minute Clinic, you can walk right in. Get your prescription filled and everything." This man clearly loves this place. "When my doctor told me I'd have to wait three months to get an appointment with him, I told him, 'Thank goodness us priests don't require appointments for last rites. Wouldn't that be unfortunate.'" Deadpan.

Did I mention I love this man and can't wait to hear his homily at our wedding?!

Priest: 1 point.
Doctor: zero.

gobble gobble

In honor of Thanksgiving, I'd thought I'd share this gorgeous wedding board designed by Tastefully Entertaining. If The Fiancé wasn't convinced Fall was the season of death, I very well could be getting married this month [seven months is enough time to plan a wedding, no?]. But what am I thankful for? The ability to pig out instead! [Okay, and a few other things...]

Have a happy, healthy and restful holiday, everyone - see you on the other side.

bear market or bear blanket?

The Fiancé and I are shopping for a home together right now. We can't decide whether to buy or rent. The irony is how difficult this decision - whether to buy, what to buy, where to buy - has become, when viewed in contrast to the decision to marry each other. The Fiancé actually gets the credit for pointing this out. According to him, "I guess I should feel good that I'm way more torn about whether to buy than whether we should get married."

Ummm.... YEAH... Anyway.

I, for one, am not that perplexed about the real estate decision [I mean, I am, but at the end of the day we'll live with whatever choice we make]. More critical to me, is the decorating decisions that shall follow.

You see, The Fiancé and I don't technically live together yet. We each have a fully furnished apartment. Which means that in no small amount of time, we have to blend. Not just lives, but furniture. And, more frightening to me: We have to agree on a design aesthetic. [What? This doesn't keep You up at night?!] Maybe some people don't worry about this. They. Are not me.

Because, Dear Readers, let's look at the evidence... During the recent election, The Fiancé proclaimed that this was the coolest couch ever:

As if that's not enough, it's important for You to understand one thing about our differing personalities: I, like to update, redecorate, buy new. Often.

The Fiancé? Likes to keep things forever. So, while I may buy a lovely couch and tire of it in 5-7 years, The Fiancé and his beloved taxidermy?! Yeah, we might have that forever. See why I lay awake at night?

to be or not to be?

So I bought this dress recently from BCBG, thinking it was a rehearsal dinner contender... And it arrived... and it's cute... but it is not right for the rehearsal. First of all, it's yellow. And yes, I knew this when I bought it. But I thought, "oh maybe..." But my colors are green and black. Not yellow. And I don't think I want to be yellow at my rehearsal dinner afterall, regardless of the prettiness of the frock. But I still think I like the dress. Not love. Like. And in this economy, should I keep a dress I like, not love, for an unknown event? It might be good for the wedding of a friend in the Spring. But it's a silk/wool blend, so it needs to be a brisk day when I wear it, lest I itch my stomach off.

Thus, I need your votes - to keep, or not to keep... that is the question... And if "to keep," then for what, pray tell?

(front)
(back)

Vote in the comments section...

WEEEEEEEEEEE!

I want a wii Fit. 'Nough said. This is me hoola-hooping to my heart's content if I get one:
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

dear so-and-so

Amy Jean over at The Relentless Bride provided one of the most helpful posts (I think) here and I'm reposting, because (1) I'm a lazy blogger today... [which translates to a busy attorney]; and (2) this way I selfishly can store this information for myself for later use... Hope other brides find it as helpful as I do! Thanks TRB!

morning delight

I heart Etsy.

I can no longer recall when I stumbled across this site-better-known-as-bliss, but it had to be some time during this Wedding Saga. A variety of blogs cite to Etsy as a source of all things unique, handmade, beautiful. My real obsession over Etzy stems from the fact that it far exceeds wedding-related items. There are a ton of interesting new clothing designers. Today, the featured seller - larimeloom - is re-donk-u-lous. Her stuff is striking its its creativity. Check her out. But don't buy up everything - leave a few peices for me...

*gasp* this last piece... wow. I want.

busted

There's a little shoe shine/shoe repair shop right by the train stop I disembark from every morning. I've walked by it almost every weekday for almost two years. Today, I actually went inside for the first time. My mission: to see if they could repair a beloved pair of boots whose zipper has lost their way.

This, my friends, is momentous. See, in years of old, I would have simply discarded the boots and bought new ones. It was hard to justify in this instance, however, because the boots are relatively unscathed, save the errant zipper. And I really like them. I am trying to be more "green." You know: reuse, recycle, some-other-"r"-I-can't-remember...? So I figured why discard when I can repair?

There was this darling little man behind the counter, who treated my patent leather stiletto boot as if it was an objet d'art [...I sort of agree...] He picked it up so gently, turned it around, thumbed over the zipper, nodded appraisingly... And declared it would be no problem to fix before Thanksgiving [What, you don't wear stilettos to Turkey Dinner?]

I smiled appreciatively, my heart filled with warmth at the ease of this transaction and the vision of my soon-to-be-just-like-new-boot.

Till he said, "Thirty dollars."

Wh-what?! He was joking, right? Thirty bucks for a new zipper?! Mother effer.

For thirty dollars, I could do some damage at DSW! For thirty dollars, I could make a whole new boot myself.

Oy.

Too bad I like those boots... I honestly stood there for a moment. Paralyzed. Looking at my reflection in the beautiful patent leather...

"O-kay..." I said tentatively. It's just $30, right?

Next time, however, I'm just gonna discard, demand new, and say damn it. That's my three letter resolution. I never was very "green" anyway.

snip snip tuck

Yesterday was one of my bosses' birthdays. [I work in a law firm, as an associate. Thus, I have a lot of bosses]. In celebration of his birth, his assistant provided a feast of calories [otherwise known as cookies and brownies and snack mix and candy and fruity bread oh my]. Aside from the one mini-pack of Sweet Tarts I snagged, I managed to walk by this caloric spread 20,000 times yesterday without deviation [his office is near mine; his assistant's spread was placed just steps from my door...] and I. was. so. proud. of. myself.

Then. Today, I come to work, only to discover she has placed the leftovers back out again. As if having to walk by temptation for 10 straight hours yesterday wasn't enough?! Who does she think I am? Gandhi!?! Oy. I can hardly stand to get a glass of water today and risk walking by the sweets and salt and yumminess... I swear those day-old brownies ARE TALKING TO ME. Temptation is a cruel cruel guest.

On a related note, last night I asked The Fiancé if I could have plastic surgery...someday. Just a tummy tuck; we're not talking facial reconstruction here. The thought occurred [not for the first time] when I was in the locker room at my gym, having just completed my obligatory strength routine, followed by a 4.5 mile run [go me!]. I caught sight of myself in the mirror as I attempted to regain normal-coloring in my face [in other words, I prayed the bright red face would diminish so I wouldn't look like I was about to have a heart attack...] Despite the punishment I'd just inflicted on my body and the countless calories I'd surely burned, my stomach refused to accurately reflect what I think it should look like. Yet, a thought occurred to me: this is the best it's gonna get. I'm at my lowest body-fat-percentage since my college soccer-playing days... I am shirking evil-brownies-who-are-calling-my-name... and still there is that stomach staring back at me, mocking the crunches I inflict upon it. Clearly age and children are not going to make this situation better... Thus, my inquiry to The Fiancé: tummy tuck maybe?!

Being the astute man he is, he conceded the decision is mine. Then outlined the reasons for my absurdity and even managed to inflict a good dose of Catholic guilt ("Why would you risk something so unnecessary?")

Did I mention I'm an attorney? I remind You of this as an explanation for how and why I was able to quickly digest and discard his arguments. Until he stumbled across something I hadn't considered: I am more obsessed with my physique lately simply because of the amount of time I'm spending focused on it in my quest to obtain 30-year-old perfection. When, by contrast, I've spent my time in less healthful endeavors (sitting on couch, eating cookies, etc...) as a matter of course, I've hardly cared what my stomach looks like. (And, bless his little heart, he claimed he loves both versions of me- the slob and the obsessor).

Which begs the question: maybe I just shouldn't work out at all. Then I'd be satisfied... maybe even happy... with the mirror's imperfect reflection...

Now about those brownies...

ugh!

I used to think they were hideous and could not understand why anyone would trouble to wear them. Then, in a fit of conformity, I tried a pair on. And suddenly, I got it. It had nothing to do with their inelegance. The fact of the matter was, they were the bloodiest damn things I'd ever put on my feet. And thus, my love affair with Uggs began.

I've even gone so far as to buy my mother a pair.

And while I've only bought three pairs for myself, I can't help but dream of a new pair each year, when the temperature dips below thirty [read: right now], and snow flurries flitter through the sky [read: during my walk home last night].

I can count on one hand the number of things I like about Chicago in the winter. One of them, however, is the ability...dare I say, the necessity ... that one wear Uggs. And though I bought a pair last March [end of year sale, my friends], I can't help but want to run out and buy a new pair this weekend... I mean, us Chicagoans should get something for our wind-burned troubles, no?

Besides, the Uggs of today are a far cry from the Uggs of old.... Today's Uggs are actually cute. That picture? Can You believe it... Is the latest pair of Uggs. UGH!

Boot credit: The Raya by Ugg. Mmmm....

love is patient, love is kind

Before seeing this picture, I'd never heard of the Wayfarer’s Chapel, which sits on the cliffs above the ocean in Los Angeles. The engraved stairs leading up to the alter are breathtaking... if You're in to that sort of thing [which I am].

I love places of worship that introduce unique and novel ways to inspire. This particular photo, in this particular setting, both subtly and impactfully remind me what love and faith, and a wedding (at least our wedding), are really all about.

Source: Photography by Lisa + James

It is difficult to plan a wedding that avoids all the usual clichés and stereotypes. I was speaking with my friends this weekend about whether or not to use First Corinthians, Chapter 13, as one of our readings... I love the reading, but feel as though its message has lost its novelty by overuse in every wedding I've attended the past ten years. Maybe that's just me.

This picture reminds me that there is a beauty in reinvention of what we know and are used to. The challenge is figuring how to incorporate familiar elements into a wedding ceremony in a way that manges to be familiar, but avoids being a cliché... Though, I don't suppose our church will permit engraving "Love is patient..." into its 137-year-old alter, huh?

skinny jeans

Something very exciting is happening today, as You read.

I, am wearing my very first pair of Seven jeans, purchased circa 2000. I still remember when I bought them, when it was considered insane to spend over $100 on jeans. My, how times have changed...

They are eight years old, and I love them. And they are roughly two sizes smaller than the Joe's Jeans and the Rock & Republic jeans I've purchased this year [I heart designer jeans...and rather speedily got over my hesitation about their ridiculous price tags...I mean, what object of Your wardrobe do You wear the most?!].

And here's the important note: They fit. Again. They are not snug. They're pretty darn cute actually. Did I mention they are eight years old and two sizes down?

This whole working out thing is fan-friggin-tastic. I love my jeans.

(And, no the picture is not of me, it's of a Nordstrom's model. My butt looks better.)

musings

Last night when he arrived home, one of the first things out of The Fiancé's mouth was "So what's this deal with Jennifer Aniston saying something about Angelina Jolie?"

With the exception of our mutual love of The Hills, it's safe to say I am the celebrity gossip whore, whereas The Fiancé, by contrast, would rather spend his time studying the macroeconomics of developing nations.

Thus, upon his inquiry (literally five minutes after opening the door!), two things were reinforced in my heart: (1) I love him; and (2) The fact that this tidbit of celebrity gossip has penetrated his pop-culture awareness means this. is. really. big. news.

And, upon further reflection (I had a long ride on the train this morning...), I've concluded that it should be. I, for one, entirely agree with Ms. Aniston. The poor dear had her man stolen right out from under her, and if that weren't enough, she has to see him parade his brood of children around the world with his new love on every magazine, and, has to read about how he fell in love...with someone else... while he was still married to her! ["Uncool" is not the first word that comes to my mind...]

I recall reading (years ago...) that Brad and Jen (when they were married) said something about not believing that any relationship is meant to last forever. In their [humble, yet studied] opinion, one should just enjoy the moment, for time and love and sentiments can change. They didn't know if they'd be together forever. But they figured they were meant for each other at that particular time in their lives.

Hmm.

I've been around long enough to know that everyone does, and everyone should, have differing opinions on romantic love. Nonetheless, I can say that I am thankful for two things: One, that I have found someone who is as scandalized by this very public conversation between Jen and Angie as I am, largely because of his (and thus, our) opinions on love; and

Two, and more importantly, that I have found someone that shares my belief that there is such a thing as a soul mate. And when you find them, you promise to each other to not only love one another for the particular time period, but interminably into the future.

in my other life I'm a personal trainer

I am an avid devotee of Real Simple. Today their topics made me especially excited - they posted a few videos of quick and easy workouts to do at home - that only take 15 minutes! Now, I love to exercise as much as the next gal (she likes to, right?), but sometimes there's. just. no. time. between lawyering and blogging and pre-cana'ing and living, etc.

These routines look interesting and doable - I'm excited to try them, though, I confess, I am a visual learner, and I wish Real Simple offered a link to where you could print out pix of the exercises to follow along with while you workout...



There's also a How To: Do a 5-Minute Workout if fifteen minutes is just too tiring...

are You kidding me?!?!

Favorite. Bridal. Photo. Ever.

Thank you, Lillian & Leonard (again).

This manages to encompass beauty, love, style, expediency, tenderness, light (...of spirit, and of physicality). In short, it is everything I would want to shoot if I were an artist. Wow.

why shoes are important.

" Fashion can be bought. Style one must possess. "

— Edna Woolman Chase

Which is why I have determined that the bride who wore these is a friggin' style diva. All images are courtesy of the talented eye of Marie Labbancz and came via her blog, Art of Love.

fetish?

There's a place for people like me.

It's called the shoe asylum.

I. just. can't. leave. well. enough. alone.

Despite having found the perfect green shoe, I haven't managed to stop searching for the perfect designer wedding day shoe.

Till maybe today. Around 3:00. When I found these (they kind of fell into my lap... after typing "search" and "perfect" into Bluefly.com).

Granted, they are not these, but then again, they do appear to be a bit more, shall we say, wearable... And I plan to wear them for one very long day. And do a wee bit of dancing. And did I mention I have a bad knee? And a bum ankle? Making 4 1/2 inch heels sadly less appealing when strapped to me.

Anyway. They're on their way. To me, that is. To try on. And maybe not ever take off.

what's that They say about hindsight...

The Fiancé came home tonight and asked me if I felt "used" in light of the most recent post...

And I realized...

...AHH! The horror!!! I do!

Ouch. Can I delete it?!

Too late.

Let's just hope some new visitors stop by because of it! Ahh, the incestuous world of blogging and the things we do to be a part of it. I suppose deleting it would defy some code that I don't know about.

Anyway.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming...

Tomorrow night: We return to the scene...Pre Cana meeting, part deux! Stay tuned!

i've been tagged...

...by Engaged and Enraged at I Hate Planning My Wedding!

First, here are the rules I must follow for being tagged:
1. Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by including links to their blog.
4. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog!

About Me! I,
1. hate mushrooms.
2. find the Economist oddly entertaining.
3. want to hike Mt. Kilimanjaro, despite what The Fiancé thinks.
4. am terrified of spiders...especially ones with hair.
5. visited the Galapagos Islands by boat...a little tiny boat (think: capsizable), in the big bad ocean.
6. swam with sea lions during 5.
7. wonder every day if I chose the right career. Doesn't everyone?!

Now, I tag:
1. Polka Dot Bride
2. My Name is on the Invite Too
3. A Lovely Morning
4. Perfect Bound
5. The Preppy Wedding
6. An Atlanta Bride
7. Soon to be Mrs. Gentry!

I apologize profusely in advance if any of the above have already been tagged (I could only search so much through your blog to verify...)

And, it appears that Engaged & Enraged also nominated me for an "Uber Amazing Blog Award" too! Here is the information for that one: The Uber (AKA Super) Amazing Blog Award is a blog award given to sites who:
Inspire you...
Make you smile and laugh...
Or maybe gives amazing information...
A great read...
Has an amazing design...
And any other reason you can think of that makes them uber amazing!

The rules of the award are:
1. Put the logo on your blog or post.
2. Nominate a minimum of 5 blogs.
3. Let them know they received this award by commenting on their blog.
4. Share the love and link to this post and the person you received your award from.

Thus, I hereby nominate the blogs linked above for this little ditty as well!!

Now, I'm off to comment on the blogs I've nominated... I hope you enjoy checking them out! Please leave a comment if you have other blogs that I (or my readers) should check out. Cheers!

registry take two

Friday night, The Fiancé and I took crack number two at registering for gifts (yep, folks, get engaged and this too can be Your Friday night!). This time we headed to Macy's. Which. Was. Overwhelming.

I thought Crate & Barrel was hard?! It doesn't hold a candle to the Macy's on State Street here in Chicago (a/k/a the second largest department store in the world). The store spans an entire city block and shoots up several stories into the air. I thought this would make it a great place to register, given the amount of options.

Big mistake.

Over 450 patterns of crystal and china = no idea where to go first. The Fiancé and I literally wandered around with our scanner-gun for an hour before we made our first click (on an electric can opener, after I bemoaned, "Just click something!")

I don't recall the details of what we registered for. I do recall wishing desperately for my mother at some point. I think that was in the pots-and-pans section. I don't even know what "Anodized" is, much less if I need it. And why are there SO MANY POTS AND PANS to choose from?!

I remember there were several moments of sheer terror (on my part). The Fiancé kept telling me how much he loved me, as if I was undergoing some sort of adverse medical procedure just by being in Macy's. I'm not entirely sure why I hate registering so much, considering how much I love to shop otherwise. It is perplexing, and inexplicable.

Like most things in my life that I don't like to do (clean the bathroom, grocery shop), I wondered who I could delegate this task of registering to ... Unfortunately, I don't think my cleaning lady or Peapod can be persuaded to take this task on for me. I'm holding out hope that my mother will help guide us when we show her our dismantled list. *fingers crossed* Yes, I realize the absurdity of a 30-year-old woman needing her mother's help. I'm over it. And fine with it.

Beyond the pots and pans, there was the inevitable dispute about how much is too much to expect guests to spend? The Fiancé thinks $10.00 pans are fine. I think: These are meant to last us our whole lives; I am not, I repeat, not, doing this ever again, so these bloody pans better withstand World War III and therefore should cost a bit more... *sigh*

Ironically, in the knives section, The Fiancé was okay registering for a $600.00 block set, while I thought the $199 version was just fine. I suppose this contradiction shouldn't surprise me.

Meandering over to the bedding section, it became glaringly clear that The Fiancé's and my aesthetic is very. very. different. He thought a certain bedding collection was perfect for our room - it involved florals and pastels and some sort of quilting. I'd post a picture but I have desperately tried to destroy the vision in my mind and can't bear to look it up. I just remember seeing it, and thinking no no no no. eww. eww. eww. A thousand times over eww. I shudder to think The Fiancé thought this was remotely related to anything I would put in our home. *sigh*

Thankfully, we eventually compromised on one thing: registering is hard and should be done in small doses. Maybe next time with alcohol. So we eventually left the biggest-scariest-store-ever (once we figured out where the door was... If You've ever been to this particular Macy's, You appreciate that it is not self-evident...We were like two little rats in a maze, smelling the cheese but unable to find it...We ran into the same obscure elevator bank twice...and I could never seem to find a bathroom...it was scary, I tell You. Scary.) and had a nice dinner (with lots of wine) instead.

i wish i was a size 12

Why would I want to go several dress dress sizes UP, You might ask? ...So I could buy this little beauty from BCBG to wear at our rehearsal dinner... Size 12 is the only size remaining, and I am so. so. sad. It's perfect. Glamorous. Sophisticated. Mature. Perfect to go from church to dinner and exude that party mood. *Sigh* Maybe I should just eat more cookie dough ice cream after all so I can wear it?

on the road to post cana

Last night The Fiancé and I had our first Pre Cana meeting. According to Wikipedia [because it is the source of all my information, and because The Church neglected to tell us], "Pre-Cana is a course or consultation Catholic couples must undergo before they can be married in a Catholic church. The name is derived from John 2:1-12, the wedding feast at Cana in Galilee, where Jesus performed the miracle of turning water into wine."

But enough about the Bible. It's not as if us Catholics read it anyway.

For Pre Cana, we had our choice of giving up [I mean, spending] an entire Saturday at a random church in the boondocks, or attending four week-night sessions at the home of a host couple in our lovely neighborhood. We chose the latter. Whether this was wise or naive is yet to be determined.

The day started out with me already fearful that The Fiancé would be late. This was not without justification, mind You. For our first marriage preparation informational meeting at the church we attend, he was late. He says five minutes. I say twenty. It was somewhere in between. Regardless, for at least ten [because I can assure You, it was more than five], fifteen or twenty minutes, I was the only single person sitting in a sea of couples clutching each other as if they were about to fall into the Catholic abyss. When I signed in, the church lady at the desk looked perplexed and confused, as if I didn't understand English when she asked what I was there for. A quick flash of my left hand was lost on her. Upon being seated in the church sanctuary amidst the sea-of-couples-clutching-each-other, I felt as if there was a bright, hot, uncomfortable beacon of light shining down on me, illuminating my singular-ness. It was like being the only single girl at the prom. Only worse. Much. Much. Worse.

Anyway.

This is all a precursor to why I was apprehensive about our first Pre Cana meeting and what I was sure would be my imminent arrival sans The Fiancé. Thankfully, he made it home from work on time [...It may have had something to do with my fit in the morning about how we should just scrap the whole thing (the Pre Cana, not the wedding) if attending meetings on the preparation of our marriage were too difficult to be on time to.... but um... I'm sure his timeliness was just good fortune...].

The meeting was two parts awkward, one part interesting. I find it awkward and unnatural to discuss relationship conflict resolution, family planning and finances with complete strangers. Then again, we generally don't discuss that stuff at dinner parties with our closest friends either. Maybe we should - it could be enlightening.

The one part interesting stems from the voyeuristic opportunity that Pre Cana unwittingly provides. For two hours, we heard about the way other couples interact and handle various issues. I wish I could tell You the examples of things we heard, but alas, that would be breaking Rule #1 of Pre Cana: What happens in Pre Cana, stays in Pre Cana... for the obvious reason to avoid it being blogged about by some silly bride the next day, I presume. [To confess, I wrote an entire witty entry deliciously summarizing the best comments made last night...then I remembered Rule #1 and had to delete the whole thing. I can assure You it was hilariously funny and brilliantly written.]

When driving home, I bemoaned the lack of liquid courage [aka booze] at the meeting... The Fiancé brightly pointed out all the reasons this would be a bad idea, not the least of which being, the potential for one of us to get loose lips and share something we shouldn't with a strange crowd...

I'm sure he was referring to himself, not me.

love is

...when The Fiancé leaned over and said "I love you," when President-elect Barack Obama called Michelle "my best friend for the last sixteen years, the rock of our family and the love of my life" during his emotional speech before an estimated crowd of 240,000 people in our home town.

You see, The Fiancé and I are on different sides of the political fence, most of the time. This added a complexity to last night that made the results somewhat bittersweet. But, believe it or not, our political differences do not mean our values are fundamentally at odds with each other. It is our shared values that brought us to where we are. My hope today? That more people appreciate how much we really have in common, on this, The Day After.

photo source: People

this post is not about what you think it is

...But since this Blog purports to be loosely about "style"... I must confess: Michelle Obama?! I have such high hopes for this fashionista, but what. was. that. dress. last night?! Accents in all the wrong places... oy vey. I am so looking forward to her fashion choices over the next several years...but this is not the way I envisioned her starting it out.

*Hmmpff*

See, You thought I was going to go all political on You.

Nope.


UPDATE: Check out the Chicago Tribune's summary of this unfortunate fashion incident here.

remember why today is a big deal

" Democracy is…the conviction that there are extraordinary possibilities in ordinary people. "

— Harry Emerson Fosdick

food as enemy #1

So, I'm trying to be healthy this week. Well, I'm trying to be healthier as a matter of course, but this week in particular because on Saturday (seven days from today), I have a weigh in at my personal trainer's. No, I am not the next welterweight champion. I'm just a bride, trying to get in shape [with the help of an extravagant but priceless - if one can be both - assistant, i.e., the personal trainer). If I were self-motivated, I would not have to pay some one to tell me to work out more and eat less. But. I am not. So those in desperate times must take desperate measures.

All that being said, the experience has been a good one. I do feel better. I can run 40 minutes without being short of breath, and power through 20 push-ups (the real kind, not the girlie-on-your-knees-kind) without too much effort. I've changed gyms to one that's a mere block from my office and therefore unable to avoid. I've bought a bosu. Yep, my very own. And PowerBlock weights. And a jump rope (which, I confess, sadly I actually didn't really know how to use four months ago... that whole both-feet-off-the-ground-at-once thing was troubling...but the obstacle was surmountable and now I'm a jumping whiz...for 30 seconds at a time or so...) And, more importantly, I actually use all of the above several times a week. Yes, this surprises even me.

The harder thing, for me, is not the exercise, it's the eating. Try as I might to be a better eater, I find the task not just daunting, but outright impossible. As part of this Weigh In '08, the trainer provided me and my work out buddy [read: friend I roped into doing this with me] with logs to record what we eat each day. I've done this before, and I get it. When forced to write something down, You're forced to think about it. Do You really want to eat that cookie when You have to tell someone else about it? In theory, it works for me, for a time. That time [that it utterly ceases to work] is from about 6:30 p.m. to 10:00 p.m.... during which, I suddenly become incapable of ceasing the mad devouring of food... the log becomes a litany of snacks, adding up into one huge tummy ache and a feeling of defeat. My typical daily log reads something like this:

7:00 a.m. - oatmeal [I am so healthy! Yeah, me!]

8:00 - coffee [must have addiction... it's fat free]

9:50 - granola bar [still on a roll...]

11:30 - handful of almonds [so, I can have as many of these as I want, right?]

12:30 - soup & half-sandwich [I miss pizza.]

2:45 - box of raisins and some more almonds [healthy healthy healthy]

5:00 - apple [yum. *sarcasm*]

6-7:00 - Work-out [I rock.]

7:30 - salad w/grilled chicken [still on work-out high]

8:00 - pretzels w/hummus [damn, salad did not satisfy...]

8:15 - bowl of Special K [still just a little bit hungry...]

8:25 - grapes [must. fight. hungry. feeling.]

8:35 - Halloween candy [WILL THIS HUNGER NEVER CEASE?!?!]

8:45 - cookie dough ice cream... [screw it, I worked out today]

9:30 - glass of red wine [I am never going to overcome my inner calorie demons]

10:00 - glass of Bailey's Irish cream [oh, You're having one, Honey? Okay, I will too...]

ARGH! And thus the cycle repeats itself. Every day. And I wonder why I just can't reach that picture I've drawn in my mind of what I could look like, if only I were better able to fight the Food Demons that live in my pantry. Does anyone else wage this same battle with The Evil Pantry?!

On that note, I better go for a run now... to offset the calorie intake I'm sure will ensue later today...

it's all begins in Ireland

I bet You didn't know Halloween originated in Ireland, did You? If You did, Bravo You! If not, I consider it my duty as an Irish bride to impart knowledge upon You, so settle in and read the story, and consider Yourself edumacated for the day:

Halloween's origins date back to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced sow-in).

The Celts, who lived 2,000 years ago in the area that is now Ireland, the United Kingdom, and northern France, celebrated their new year on November 1. This day marked the end of summer and the harvest and the beginning of the dark, cold winter, a time of year that was often associated with human death [The Fiancé couldn't agree more!]. Celts believed that on the night before the new year, the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred. On the night of October 31, they celebrated Samhain, when it was believed that the ghosts of the dead returned to earth. In addition to causing trouble and damaging crops, Celts thought that the presence of the otherworldly spirits made it easier for the Druids, or Celtic priests, to make predictions about the future. For a people entirely dependent on the volatile natural world, these prophecies were an important source of comfort and direction during the long, dark winter.

To commemorate the event, Druids built huge sacred bonfires, where the people gathered to burn crops and animals as sacrifices to the Celtic deities.

During the celebration, the Celts wore costumes, typically consisting of animal heads and skins [this makes my Miss Muffett costume seem even more inappropriate...hmmm], and attempted to tell each other's fortunes. When the celebration was over, they re-lit their hearth fires, which they had extinguished earlier that evening, from the sacred bonfire to help protect them during the coming winter.

By the 800s, the influence of Christianity had spread into Celtic lands. In the seventh century, Pope Boniface IV designated November 1 All Saints' Day, a time to honor saints and martyrs. It is widely believed today that the pope was attempting to replace the Celtic festival of the dead with a related, but church-sanctioned holiday. The celebration was also called All-hallows or All-hallowmas (from Middle English Alholowmesse meaning All Saints' Day) and the night before it, the night of Samhain, began to be called All-hallows Eve and, eventually, Halloween. Even later, in A.D. 1000, the church would make November 2 All Souls' Day, a day to honor the dead. It was celebrated similarly to Samhain, with big bonfires, parades, and dressing up in costumes as saints, angels, and devils. Together, the three celebrations, the eve of All Saints', All Saints', and All Souls', were called Hallowmas.

text source: history.com

photo source: Boo-keh

let's talk about love, baby...

Very, um, informative post and resulting commentary over here.

As usual, the New York Times is a great conversation starter. I just wish I'd posted about it first so I could be the blogger with 72 comments and counting. *sigh* Jealous.

hump day

Ever had one of those weeks that you would pay a million dollars just for it to be over? Yeah, um, me neither. Alas, it's only Wednesday morning... we're still inching our way over the hump.

I pray we'll be sliding toward Friday soon...

photo source: Cordan

bullocks!

Sorry, ladies [as in my bridesmaids]. We were a scant too early in our choices for Your dresses, and now You won't be able to wear these little art pieces from Jenny Yoo's 2009 collection...

Mmmm, so pretty. I kind of want to buy one just to have it in my closet, just in case someone wants to invite me to be their bridesmaid.

That last one is breathtaking. If you're into that [spectacularly beautiful] sorta thing.

things that glitter

I am totally at a loss when it comes to jewels for The Big Day. Without giving too much away, let's just say my dress requires a little bling bling in the sparkly accessory department, so I have been on a quest to find the perfect jewels to compliment it without transforming me into a tranny princess with too many CZs on. In fact, CZs are a definite no no in my book. Which leaves Swarovski crystal or other gems. My mother bought a beautiful Swarovski necklace and earrings for my birthday, to wear on The Big Day. I can't decide, however, if they're The Ones. So the search continues...

Atlanta Bride turned me on to a little site with some unique options... If this were a bit more green and a bit less blue, I might try it... Thoughts?
...and the matching earrings:
What I kind of like about this is (1) the vintage feel; (2) the fact that arguably I could wear them after the wedding too, like, in real life. Then again, do I want to rewear anything from The Big Day?!

fleurs

What better way to brighten a dreary day (and my-oh-my is it dreary in Chicago on this particular Friday morning) than to look at bright, brilliant flowers!Right now (this is subject to change... there's six months of thinking still to do, after all...), I envision my bridesmaids carrying beautiful green orchids, with maybe some pink splashed in... I can't decide if I prefer they carry all green or green + pink arrangements... For me, I know what I [read, me, moi, the bride, no one else] want to carry: hot pink roses. Yep. Done. (Unless I change my mind; see above regarding rules and disclaimers, i.e., bride may change mind).

Don't these bouquets just *scream* Spring?! I love it. Now if I could just bypass Winter in Chicago to get there...

live and learn

Making grilled octopus salad
Originally uploaded by gserafini

...I had grilled octopus (and shrimp) salad for lunch today.

Lesson learned: I do not like octopus. I'm not sure why I thought I did.

serenity now

In stark contrast to yesterday's post [I never said I wasn't a whole host of contradictions], today I stumbled across a delightful little blog examining the ways in which we can simplify our life and our style.

I adore the author's perspective (and her photos), especially her most recent post, wherein she highlights the upside [yes, there is one!] to the current home crisis:

"Hard times make houses into homes. I’m hoping we’ll see less of city banker style: perfectly good houses extended and interior designed to death and then sold on to make big fat profits. Bring on the recession. Houses are reverting from assets to homes: they have skips outside because owners are staying put instead of making a fast buck and moving on."

I can't wait to create a home with The Fiancé, rather than just simply buy a house, though I confess that in the beginning of the process, the line between the two is frighteningly thin and hard to draw...

nerd

So, I'll be the first to admit I am no computer geek. I leave that crown to The Fiancé to wear in this little family.

But.

As my love of photography has grown, so too has my annoyance with my PC. Ok, not annoyance. Out. Right. Animosity. It tortures me on a daily basis with it's creepingly slow processing. I try not to smash my fist through the screen every time Adobe Lightroom locks up (which is roughly ONE TIME PER PICTURE that I'm processing). *Sigh* I hate it. I do.

But it's a perfectly good computer. For some things. Like gathering dust. I feel ashamed and guilty to be coveting a new computer as the economy spirals downward and I'm looking face-first into a year of mounting expenses.

However, covet the new Apple MacBook Pro I do. Gawd, I can just picture the speed and grace with which it would surf the Net... develop my pictures... make me happy. I. Want. One. So. Bad. It. Hurts.

it's official(!)

The date is now printed in ink, stamped and distributed to friends and family... which is the modern day equivalent to etched in stone.

Upon this realization, I exclaimed to The Fiancé last night: "It's official! We're getting married!"

To which he responded, deadpan, "Wasn't it official when I put that ring on your hand?!"

...Anyway.

Without further ado, here they are!

The front:

Detail of the stamp:

[I was indifferent to the stamp initially (the USPS standard 62 cent stamp with the dragonfly was fine by me...), but now that I see it, I *love* it - A stamp with our wedding date on it! It's the little details I totally dig.]

Speaking of details, here's a close-up of the crest:

Ahhh, the crest. This is The Fiancé's family crest, and we decided to make it a central part of our wedding motif - a symbol of the two of us as a family, so to speak.

And, it just looks cool.

The color Green in this coat of arms symbolizes Hope, Joy and Loyalty in Love. [Basically, everything one would want in a marriage.]

There are two lions on the crest, and between them, a bloody hand [yep, there is a bleeding hand on our save the date] The reason? According to one legend, once upon a time, the King had a very beautiful daughter of marriageable age who had many eligible suitors [don't we all?]. The King wanted the strongest and boldest for his daughter so he established a contest. It was to be a race in full armor with weapons culminating in a swim across the moat to the castle. The one who touched the castle wall first, would win the daughter's hand in marriage and inherit the King's lands and riches. One of the eligible suitors was O'Reilly. He was a very fast runner, but could not swim. When he reached the edge of the moat, only shortly in the lead, he realized that he couldn't cross the moat in time to touch the castle wall. He desperately wanted to win the daughter's hand in marriage, so he took his sword and cut off his hand and threw it across the moat and touched the castle wall. The King declared him the winner and heir to the kingdom.

Long story short, The Fiancé is particularly happy he managed to get a bloody hand onto our save the dates. Seriously. He said so. I just hope he doesn't toss his hand up the aisle on our wedding day.

Last but not least, the back:

Thanks to the lovely and talented Kate Berglund of KB design llc for designing these little declarations! I can't wait to see what she comes up with next...

the godchild meets the world

Ten fingers. Check.

Ten toes. Check.

One little nose. Check.

First appearance on the internet at just three weeks old. Check!

stupid spam

Here I was, diligently minding my own business, doing my work, when *bam*. JCrew spam mail. Announcing the latest "new arrivals". And I am a strong woman. But not that strong. When new clothing beckons.

So I thought I'd take just a 5 minute breather to check out what this email was all about.

And, I must stay, They certainly do have some adorable little ensembles coming out. We've come a long way, baby, from the over-sized wool sweaters that I used to love having delivered to Theta in college. (You know You did too).

Here's a few of my new favs [read: must buy when go on sale]:

Issy sweater-jacket = yum! Makes me want to curl up in it right now...:

Victoria ruffle shirt + Pembridge-dot pencil skirt. I'm actually already picturing myself wearing this. Yep. *Happy thought*:

Golden roses dress... I'm not sure why, but I love this one. I think there's a good chance it would actually look horrendous on me. But in the pic it's so super chic and elegant...:

And of course, don't forget the shoes! How cute (if something over $300 can be "cute"...) aren't these?!? The feather!!! Finally, I'd do a little Happy Dance if anyone wanted to leave this in my stocking this year:
... Okay... back to work now. Must afford online shopping diversions somehow. We all know my investments won't be doing it this year.

singing in the rain

In my semi-usual scanning of the wedding blogs today, many of which are based in Chicago (because I live here and thus feel a particular connection to Chicago bloggers), I noticed a prevalence of weather-based entries. Apparently there was a chance of rain this past Saturday (I wouldn't know; I was in Boston meeting The Godchild(!)), and it had all the Chicago brides up in a tizzy. I scanned turtlepond.com (yes, my beloved photographer) and noted a recent entry about a wedding in the rain and the bride's worried anticipation of it.

It made me wonder: will I obsess about the weather the week, the day, of my wedding? As an observer [which I still consider myself to be] of this wedding process, it appears that the closer the date approaches, the more brides become devotees of weather.com. The question that springs to my mind, is, why?

I mean, I won't lie: I'm just as much a weather-checker as the next guy on your average Friday afternoon with the start of a weekend [hopefully spent outdoors] rapidly approaching. Or when I have a flight to catch. But. Does it really matter what the weather is going to be on Your wedding day? The day should be anticipated most for the event, not the atmosphere. I can't imagine waking up on April 18, 2009, seeing gray skies, and caring one iota about it when I know that several hours later, I will marry my best friend. Come hell or high water, as They say.

Isn't that what it's all about? Now, granted, our wedding will be indoors, and other than photo ops and getting from here to there, the weather isn't really of major import. It would be nice to have pictures outside. It would be nice not to freeze when running from hotel to church, to not have to dodge raindrops. It would be nice. But not necessary. We are, after all, getting married in April. In the Midwest. And we are well aware of this (we chose the date, remember). Home of "April showers bring May flowers..." I know the rhyme. Several have reminded me of this brilliant pronouncement when I've told them our wedding date. It makes me wonder why people take pleasure in imparting such fantastic knowledge of which they clearly think I am unaware.

I'm not going to write about the weather the week of our wedding. If it rains on our wedding day, You don't have to tell me, "I'm so sorry!" I won't be disappointed. *Pinky swear*

But. You knew there was a but.

Just for good measure, I checked the weekly averages for rainfall in Indianapolis in April. Turns out chances of rain are better in May, June, July AND August. So there.


photo source: Laura Novak's blog of Matt and Carol's wedding

b-town

This weekend [I swear, every weekend lately it's one thing or another!] we're off to Boston to finally meet The Godchild. It feels as though he's been on this earth for nothing shy of a century and we are only now able to hold him and see him and touch him... The anticipation is nothing short of agony.

Tune in next week, for *hopefully* some beautiful shots of the most-missed-nephew on the planet. I've been studying my photography for just. this. moment. I cannot wait to try to imitate one of my favorite photographers [who incidentally will be shooting our wedding...] and capture shots like the ones she recently took of sweet baby Mia:

You know what They say: imitation is the sincerest form of flattery...