Bailee's Bride

que sera, sera...

2009-01-21T08:03:00.002-06:00

This photo, taken last night at one of the many Inaugural Balls, pretty much sums up how I feel about blogging at the moment: like it's time to sit it out for a dance or two. Despite your lovely comments in the previous post, I'm not sure yet if I'll return to the blogosphere again at a later date. For now, I bid you adieu... My accordion and I need a little breather.

Photo source: Chicago Tribune photo by Nancy Stone (January 19, 2009) of Alex Smith from the Strolling Strings resting before the band starts playing again at The Illinois Gala.

musing

2009-01-13T08:29:00.003-06:00

So I'm feeling a bit ambivalent about this blog lately (in case you couldn't already tell). When it started off and I began receiving comments from literally across the globe, it was a lot of fun. In the blogosphere, however, commenting is a two-way street. In order to receive, you must give. Sadly, I rarely find the time to visit my favorite blogs and comment, thereby inviting others to visit me. The result is circular: no one comments on my blog, and consequently I lose the motivation to continue posting. Frankly, I just like attention. Without it, I'm not terribly inspired to make the time this blog requires.

I'm beginning to realize this was a lovely experiment, but maybe not my piece de resistance. I'd hoped for a forum to display some of my photos as I learn the art of photography. But time and other limitations have severely hampered my picture-taking of late, and I've failed to post much material. I hesitate to post too many details about my wedding, as I want most of it to be a surprise to our guests. And if You're not going to share details about Your wedding, what's the point of a wedding blog?

With that said, I invite your thoughts [...that would be novel on this blog of late!...] Is this little lovely even worth the web space it takes up?

Photo source: My own - taken of seaweed on Singing Beach in Manchester.

SERIOUSLY?!

2009-01-12T14:25:00.001-06:00

There is a blizzard warning in effect here in Chicago.

This, on top of the record-reaching 33 [THIRTY. THREE] inches of snow we've already endured this season.

I never signed up for life in the arctic tundra, so I'm not entirely sure what's going on here. But I am definitely OVER. IT.

Photo source: Chicago Tribune (Snow blows across the Dan Ryan Expressway).

oh, the weather outside is frightful

2009-01-09T08:43:00.003-06:00

Some days I wonder why I - or anyone - lives here.

Snow actually accumulated ON ME walking to the train this morning. As in, between point A (my house) and point B (the train), roughly 1/2 inch deposited itself on my parka.

Photo source: Miles Storey

hint hint

2009-01-08T08:24:00.005-06:00

So I've mentioned that the colors for our wedding are black and green... and I'm wearing these delicious green shoes...(I think). Imagine my *joy* when I stumbled across this beautiful quartz & marcasite (I love marcasite...is that weird?!) ring by Judith Jack, at Nordstrom.

Dear Fiancé: In case you were considering buying me a wedding gift (you were... right?!), consider your shopping done.

I mean, just imagine how fantastic this would look on my right hand on our wedding day... I'm imagining it...

Then, it will look lovely sitting on our bureau ... Even in a jewelry box it's stunning. I think I'm in lust.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

2009-01-06T08:57:00.006-06:00

I've had the darndest time falling asleep - and staying asleep - the past two nights.

Today is 102 days from Our Wedding Day, 8 days from our closing day on our new home, and 11 days from our moving day and our couples' shower with friends here in Chicago.

In 25 days I have my first dress fitting. I'm supposed to be svelte by then...

In 30 days we leave for Mexico to celebrate our dear friends' destination wedding. Before we go, I have six depositions to cover. Immediately after we return, I have two more.

In 40 days, The Fiancé and I will be in Boston for our nephew's ("The Godchild's") christening. Five days later, Bailee has surgery scheduled for a minor [but terribly disgusting] growth on her back that needs to be removed and biopsied. And her breath stinks, so she's getting her teeth cleaned too.

In 52 days, we head to Indianapolis for our food-tasting for the wedding reception and plan to stop by City Hall to get our marriage license. The next day, my sister will throw a luncheon shower for my Indy girlfriends and I'll hopefully do a trial run of my hair and make-up [if I find a hair-stylist by then...] Some time that weekend, we need to chat with our priest about the ceremony...

In 59 days, my dear girlfriends will descend on Chicago for a fun-filled bachelorette weekend... Seven days later, I head to Indianapolis for my friend Abbie's bachelorette (her wedding takes place 3 weeks after ours!). Six days after that, The Fiancé and I head back to Boston with my parents, sister, and brother-in-law for the full-family-meeting and our final wedding shower. Somewhere in there, I go to trial for my asylum client... no small task, and decidedly more weighty than any of the events above. I sometimes can't sleep at all thinking of that case.

And in 104 days, The Fiancé and I will climb onto a plane bound for Belize. We will be married. And I maybe, just maybe, will finally fall asleep absent visions of count-downs and to-do lists that have plagued my sleep the past two nights. Maybe. Just maybe.

it's raining presents

2009-01-05T08:40:00.005-06:00

The Fiancé and I had our first wedding shower this past weekend. It was hosted by my extended family and attended by all of my aunts and uncles, the majority of my cousins and their families, as well as a few close family friends. It. was. fantastic.

After years [30] of always being the bridesmaid and never the bride, I must confess how special it felt to be The Bride... how flabberghasted I felt (again and again) to realize the reason for the party was our wedding! ... how amazing it was to see some members of my family that I literally hadn't seen in ten years... And it all reminded me that a wedding isn't just about two people [at least, This Wedding isn't]. It's about all of our friends, it's about The Fiancé's family and my family, and my five aunts, five uncles, grandmother, 16 cousins and their 12 spouses and their countless children (...all of whom will be included on a pop quiz I'm preparing for The Fiancé to test how much he remembers... KIDDING!) In other words, a wedding is so much larger than just Us.

Which is why even the act of writing Thank You notes last night (yes, We are on. top. of. things!) seems inadequate. How do You thank a friend, and Your family, not for towels and martini shakers (though these items ARE certainly necessary for a happy marriage...), but for being Your friends and family and for being happy for You and supporting You? ...If You figure it out, please let me know. In the meantime, I'm just going to feel blessed this Monday morning. Not for the presents (though opening them was seriously like drinking Rasberry Vodka...yum). But for the amazing start to 2009 - a year I honestly can't wait to experience with all my friends and family!

Photo source: Barca

leaping leprechauns... I'm back!

2008-12-30T10:37:00.005-06:00

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

2008-12-15T12:53:00.003-06:00

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

2008-12-09T13:39:00.003-06:00

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

2008-12-06T14:00:00.001-06:00

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

2008-12-05T11:23:00.006-06:00

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

2008-12-04T13:22:00.005-06:00

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...

2008-12-03T08:55:00.003-06:00

"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

2008-11-26T11:51:00.003-06:00

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?

2008-11-25T08:59:00.004-06:00

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?

2008-11-24T14:57:00.005-06:00

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!

2008-11-24T14:32:00.003-06:00

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

2008-11-24T08:03:00.000-06:00

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

2008-11-20T09:21:00.003-06:00

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

2008-11-19T10:50:00.006-06:00

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

2008-11-18T12:02:00.004-06:00

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!

2008-11-18T09:10:00.006-06:00

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

2008-11-17T09:28:00.008-06:00

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

2008-11-14T10:10:00.007-06:00

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

2008-11-14T09:30:00.003-06:00

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

2008-11-13T12:45:00.003-06:00

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?!?!

2008-11-13T09:57:00.003-06:00

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.

2008-11-13T09:31:00.005-06:00

" 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?

2008-11-11T23:40:00.005-06:00

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...

2008-11-11T23:08:00.003-06:00

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...

2008-11-11T08:52:00.004-06:00

...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

2008-11-10T09:48:00.008-06:00

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

2008-11-07T12:30:00.003-06:00

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

2008-11-06T16:25:00.008-06:00

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

2008-11-05T13:55:00.005-06:00

...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

2008-11-05T09:16:00.005-06:00

...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

2008-11-04T10:35:00.002-06:00

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

— Harry Emerson Fosdick

food as enemy #1

2008-11-02T11:47:00.008-06:00

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

2008-10-31T08:30:00.004-05:00

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...

2008-10-29T13:20:00.003-05:00

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

2008-10-29T08:53:00.002-05:00

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!

2008-10-28T15:36:00.005-05:00

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

2008-10-27T08:17:00.005-05:00

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

2008-10-24T09:59:00.004-05:00

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

2008-10-23T16:22:00.001-05:00

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

2008-10-23T15:31:00.005-05:00

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

2008-10-22T13:05:00.005-05:00

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(!)

2008-10-21T22:01:00.003-05:00

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

2008-10-21T10:21:00.006-05:00

Ten fingers. Check.

Ten toes. Check.

One little nose. Check.

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

stupid spam

2008-10-20T13:21:00.007-05:00

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

2008-10-19T16:08:00.003-05:00

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

2008-10-15T14:11:00.005-05:00

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...

dress envy

2008-10-15T11:53:00.006-05:00

I love my dress. I do.

And no, this entry does not (I repeat: not) include a picture of it. It does, however, include [above] a picture of another dress by my [ahhh...sounds like I own her] dress designer, Vwidon. Vwidon is a delightful little boutique in Chicago recommended by my friend (and future Vwidon-dress-wearer) Kate. When I put on my dress, it was the most comfortable darn thing I'd had on all day (in a long day of trying on torture chambers known as wedding gowns), and I simply did not want to take it off. So I can't wait to put it back on in six months and dance around in it for 12 or so hours. Till then, however, it's just a bolt of fabric somewhere in Vwidon's studio, waiting to be made (to my hopefully shrinking measurements).

In the meantime, I torture myself with pictures of other wedding dresses. Usually I can easily discard them, and note why it is I don't like them. Why my dress is superior. Usually.

Till today.

When I suffered my first bout of "dress envy."

It came upon suddently. On {ritzy bee blog}. And this was the dress:

And this was the beautiful bride it adorned:

And now I wish I could show You a picture of my dress so that You could validate my decision that my dress is superior [for me]. But since I can't [there must be some element of surprise!], I'm left to my own tortured, conflicted thoughts... and suddenly sad [for the first time ever in this wedding planning process] that one of the items on the Wedding To Do List is crossed off... [You see, usually I check things off with glee!] Because what if. What if...

Note to self: Stop looking at dresses. Stop. Looking. At. The. Ritzy Bee Dress.

Repeat to self: I love my dress. I do.

deeesiiiiiiiiiiiire

2008-10-14T10:06:00.004-05:00

My throat is closing...

*can't breathe*

...because this ring (courtesy of Vera Wang) is so bloody beautiful... It's no wonder it's making the rounds on the bride-blog circuit (Snippet & Ink....Coco + Kelley...) it's absolutely delicious.

And man would it look great in my Irish green wedding... On my right hand....Ah, diamonds and emeralds... the stuff [my] dreams are made of.

fall

2008-10-13T11:14:00.001-05:00

Red leaves/ 香山红叶
Originally uploaded by Luo Shaoyang

...The Fiancé calls Fall "the season of death." Yes. Well. It's not for everyone, I guess.

I, on the other hand, *used to* like Fall.

A couple of things have changed my love of Fall: (1) I moved to Chicago, where Fall is just a precursor to Winter. Which is painfully cold, windy and decidedly unfun. (2) I suffer (seriously) from a decreased love of shopping. The latter, I believe, is directly related to the fact that it's now my own money that must be used to purchase new 'school clothes', as opposed to, oh, say, Mom & Dad's. Given that my affection for the season was largely related to the new clothes purchased in anticipation of falling temps, and the fact that I have zero new clothes this year (ok, well, two shirts and one sweater. Oh, and a pair of shoes... but they don't count...), equals Fall stinks.

Now it's just cold. And I have to wear the same stuff from last year. And, like The Fiancé says, everything is dying. I was reminded of this on our drive down to Indy this weekend, which, granted, was beautiful, but also an unavoidable annoucement that soon the trees would be bare. And frankly, it just made me feel cold. And unstylish.

*long pause followed by deep sigh*

Maybe I will suffer through and go do a little shopping after all. I mean, the economy needs my helpful stimulus, right? I'm doing it for the country.

40 years

2008-10-10T10:02:00.008-05:00

This weekend The Fiancé and I are heading to my hometown to celebrate my parents' 40th wedding anniversary. I've always felt ridiculously lucky and blessed to have parents who have not only stayed together, but who also seem to really like each other, even after 40 years (or 47, as my mother would correct me, as how can I forget the years of dating through high school and college?!).

Mums (gold) were their flower. By all accounts, the weather that day was gorgeous. My uncle walked my mother down the aisle, because her father had passed away earlier that same year. Their reception was at the American Legion Hall. It was held in the afternoon, with a buffet, no dance. They had a fancy white wedding cake decorated with green and gold, and a chocolate groom's cake. The bridesmaids wore green. Afterwards, my grandmother re-opened my grandfather's bar for evening revelers. According to my mother, they refrained from telling anyone where they were living after the wedding, lest the bed in their new apartment be short-sheeted. They hid their car a town away to avoid it being decorated with beer cans and crepe paper. My father sported black-rimmed glasses and slicked back hair. My mother, a bouffant. He was 23. She, 21.

I love the fact that I will marry my husband 40 years and 6 months after my own parents were wed. I don't know what our flower will be yet, but in April, it won't be mums. The reception will be in a grand, old, gold ballroom in one of the oldest hotels in Indiana. I can't wait for everyone to dance. Even before I heard the details of my parents' wedding [my mothers always been stogy with the pictures], I'd chosen the color green. I want a white cake. And a chocolate (Guinness shaped...?) grooms cake. We're staying in a different, undisclosed, location the night of our wedding to avoid party crashers [who knew we'd be copying my parents in this decision as well!]. My father will probably wear contacts when he walks me down the aisle. And The Fiancé and I will be a ripe *young* age of 31 and 30, respectively.

There is a symbolism and awesomeness that warms my Irish superstitions in being married 40 years after my parents. I wonder when our own children will marry, and where we'll be 40 years from now? As tumultuous as the times we're in right now may seem, how will this year be viewed through the lens of hindsight? Consider the lens through which we can now view the year my parents were married:

On January 14, the Green Bay Packers won Super Bowl II. [Go Pack!]

The Vietnam War was in full force. In fact, on February 13, civil rights disturbances occurred at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, miles from where my parents lived.

On March 16, U.S. Senator Robert F. Kennedy (D-NY) entered the race for the Democratic Party presidential nomination. Three months later, on June 5, he was shot. He died from his injuries the next day.

On April 4, Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot dead. Riots erupted in major American cities for several days afterward.

On April 11, U.S. President Lyndon B. Johnson signs the Civil Rights Act of 1968. [Look how far we've come!]

Amazingly, on July 17, Saddam Hussein became Vice Chairman of the Revolutionary Council in Iraq, after a coup d'état. [His star would rise and reign until December 13, 2003, when he is finally captured by U.S. forces.

On July 25 [my birthday, incidentally], Pope Paul VI published the encyclical entitled Humanae Vitae, condemning birth control. Many American Catholics defy it [then and now...].

On September 7, 150 women protested against the Miss America Pageant, as exploitative of women. It is one of the first large demonstrations of Second Wave Feminism. [Today, we have a former pageant queen running for Vice President.]

On October 12 (the very day my parents were married!), the Games of the XIX Olympiad begin in Mexico City, Mexico. [Forty years later, we celebrated the Olympics in China.]

On November 5, Republican challenger Richard M. Nixon defeats Vice President Hubert Humphrey and American Independent Party candidate George C. Wallace in the U.S. presidential election. [In less than one month, we again have an opportunity to elect our next President.]

In retrospect, it's amazing to me so many things happened in one year. I simply think of 1968 as the year my parents married each other and began what today is my family. So, this weekend we celebrate. Not just a wedding. But 40 years of life together. And for all the fun I poke at the wedding process, I wouldn't have it any other way. Because there are certain events from 1968 that I will gladly emulate. A marriage that spans over 40 years is one of them.

project wedding!

2008-10-09T09:16:00.008-05:00

Last night on Bravo was a bride's dream...Not only was it the first of two finalé episodes of Project Runway [best. show. ever], but the competitors were charged with designing a wedding gown AND a bridesmaid dress [*squeal of joy*].

[An aside: If you haven't watched Project Runway, this season especially, I'm not sure we can be friends. But, anyway, we'll move on...]

To date, Korto has been my favorite this season... thus, I was insanely disappointed that she came up with these sad little brown numbers for her dresses... ew. I was expecting something much more from my reality-tv-crush. Thank the Lord she survived to show her collection next week, but looking at these dresses, I'm not entirely sure she should have...

Next was Leanne, who frankly annoys the crap out of me, but this episode, I must confess her dresses were spectacular. I mean, I would actually wear them. Both. A couple times. *Love* Sadly, I couldn't find a nice pic of her bridesmaid dress online, but take my word that it was darling (though a bit of a crap color, but we'll let that one slide). The wedding gown was re-donk-u-lous:

Then. There was Kenley. I can authoritatively say if I knew her in real life, we would not be friends. This child is just too mean for words sometimes. And lacking of any graciousness [she said, "I know," when Tim complimented her apartment. The normal person would say "Thank you."]. But, whatever. Her designs last night rocked my little wedding world. I would never wear them [see, Leanne, above, for what I would wear...], but there was no arguing with the fact that her stuff was stunning. Stunning. Who cares if she ripped off Alexander McQueen. In my opinion, her stuff was better. And look at that darling bridesmaid dress. *sigh*

Last (and least), there was Jerell. Oh, Jerell. He wants to channel Austin Scarlett, I think. Sadly, he does not. Flowers on the head?! Really??? His dresses could be amazing... but in the end I think they just look sloppy. Would You ever make your bridesmaid wear that wrinkly little mess of green?!
Which, in the end, is why Jerell checked out last night. Anyway, given this wedding diversion, I can hardly wait for next week's finalé part deux... How can you top a feather wedding gown, after all?!

not like grama's

2008-10-08T08:35:00.004-05:00

Last night, I discovered a jar of applesauce The Fiancé had in the refrigerator. I decided to sample it as a new dessert option, in my effort to be healthy (read: effort not to eat ice cream). Gleeful in my discovery of something that was both wholesome and sweet in my own kitchen, imagine my disappointment upon the discovery that Motts is absolutely nothing - I mean nothing - like what Grama used to make.

This led to my declaration to The Fiancé that we need to add items to our registry that will enable me to make homemade applesauce. I don't know what those items might be, but I seem to recall some sort of grinder-contraption being needed to mash the apples (upon my explanation of this, The Fiancé looked at me like I was coo-coo; I could almost see his mind reeling at the vision of me, in a kitchen, with fancy grinding tools, trying to make something edible). I ignored his incredulous stares and continued with my illustration of why Motts is deficient and why I need to learn to make yummy, not watery, delicious homemade applesauce.

To which he responded (after decrying the irony of a woman who at lunch was learning about how to improve and reform the civil justice system in Chicago now wanting to learn how to mash fruit), "You know there are store-bought options out there other than Motts, that are made to taste more like homemade, right?"

Me: "What...?!"

Why didn't he just say so? Screw the grinder. What, did he think I wanted to be domesticated or something? As if.

i wish We wore hats

2008-10-07T16:41:00.012-05:00

...because what is more darling than these beautiful pics from my increasingly-beloved-photography-site, Lillian and Leonard, of wedding attendees in hats?! These are from across the Pond, so they look natural. Put our American guests in hats, and suddenly it looks ridiculous. So sad. Because I LOVE hats [I will endeavor to dig up a little ditty from my childhood wherein I attempted to wear mutliple hats...at once... and not much else...]

For instance, there's Happy Hat:

Hats in church!

Little happy curly-que-almost-a-hat

and last but not least, Big hat + little person

*sigh* I wish hats were as prized over Here as they are in Lillian and Leonard's world... I for, one, would be all for it!

as good as a piece of string around my finger...

2008-10-07T10:49:00.004-05:00

I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed by this planning process [to those who know me outside this blog, this is a shocking revelation, I know...]. My type A personality is struggling to relinquish control of any detail whatsoever, yet it's the details that are driving me mad (what color green for the paper... crest or no crest... black ribbon or green... necklace or brooch...ahahaha it goes on and on... into my dreams, I swear...!) I chanced upon this little pendant on Etsy, and am thinking I would do well by sewing it onto my bouquet. Because, frankly, if I'm this stressed with six months to go, I can only imagine what will befall me on April 18, 2009. A not-so-subtle reminder to myself might be well taken...

hooray for the nineteenth amendment

2008-10-06T10:38:00.004-05:00

Just a reminder that there was a time, not so long ago, where some of Us didn't enjoy the right to vote. Lucky for Us, times have changed. All that is moot, however, if you neglect to register. [In that case, you might as well live in Brunei.]

Please note: in some states, the deadline for registering to vote is soon. As in, the next couple of days. If you don't register, you can't vote.

There are plenty of ways to register online, and look! You're already online!

Learn about your state HERE.

the things we do for friends

2008-10-03T10:08:00.002-05:00

This weekend I'm off to visit two of my dearest friends from law school. And in between reminiscing, enjoying wine, going to a dog blessing [don't ask, because I couldn't explain it if I wanted to], vetting one's new boyfriend [we'll be nice, I promise...], we shall also be going bridesmaid dress shopping. Oh, You lucky lucky girls! I can hardly wait! Cross Your fingers we find some lovely options, lest we have to dig out numbers like those above...

At least I'll look pretty.

uhuru! this could be us!

2008-10-02T14:56:00.002-05:00

Uhuru!
Originally uploaded by acastellano

...it started as a joke. I don't remember the details, but it had something to do with me talking about hiking Mt. Kilimanjaro, followed by The Fiancé disbelieving me [...not surprising, given my aversion to camping...], followed closely by my public castration of him over Facebook for "Not believing in my DREAM(!) to hike to the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro!"

Anyway, following a recent begging-pleading-crying-for-mercy attempt on my part to ditch this whole wedding fiasco and elope instead [...it happens regularly, don't You all have the same desire now and then...?], The Fiancé declared that not only could we NOT elope [...something about the whole declaring-our-love-in-front-of-everyone is really important to some people, apparently (read: The Fiancé)...], but in fact, he wouldn't even contemplate the idea UNLESS said elopment were to occur in someplace terribly exotic [to us], say, like Mt. Kilimanjaro...

...which led me to thinking [a dangerous endeavor, I tell You]: COULD we get married on Mt. Kilimanjaro?!?

I am hating planning my wedding right now. I just want to fast forward, be married, and skip all this nonsense. A lot of this stems from my general impatience (it's a character flaw). I just don't understand why everything - takes - so - long. Time seems to be at once crawling (will April 2009 EVER get here?), and yet I don't have any time with which to be carefree and fancy free (where have all my weekends gone this fall?!). The road to The Wedding just seems to stretch interminably long right now.

At times [yesterday] when I realize that I just don't care what the Save the Dates look like [well, I do, but not really... No, I don't... Yes, okay, I do... Whatever...], I need to remind myself that being engaged and the planning of The Wedding should be as enjoyable as the day itself...

After all, “Too often we are so preoccupied with the destination, we forget the journey.” (source: unknown)

...Then again, instead of Save the Dates, we could always just send out After-the-Fact Announcements like this picture, that simply say, "We're Hitched!"

Mmmm.... tempting.

somewhere over the rainbow

2008-10-02T13:25:00.004-05:00

According to Project Wedding, "the colors you choose for your big day reflect your personality and style." Here's what my colors say about me:

Black: A conservative choice, black complements almost any color, especially lighter hues. Dignified and mysterious, black denotes sexiness and sophistication with a modern twist. Black is classic, never trendy, alluding to a modern bride. As an opulent choice, black is timelessly elegant. [Commentary: after reading this, I thought about maybe scraping all my other colors and making everything black. I mean, seriously, I hope to be all these things!]

White: Symbolic of purity and innocence, white has strong connotations of youth and perfection. White aficionados seek excellence and enlightenment, as simplicity and recognition are constant ventures. White is a glorious hue (or lack thereof) that denotes a clean palette or fresh start for those who seek serenity and peace. [Commentary: hmmmm... this basically bears zero resemblance to me whatsoever...note to self: minimize "white" elements of weddding...]

Pink: A softer, girlish choice, pink is the sweeter side of red. A delicate hue, pink represents a sensitive heart that is affectionate and nurturing. The bride surrounded with pink has a maternal grace and compassion and a desire for protection or shelter. The rosy hue fan may also have a strong personality, but one that is willing to share. [Commentary: insomuch as pink will be a very small part of my overall motif (think: a few choice pink flowers through-out, but not like pepto-bismolly or anything, egads!), I think it will be a nice compliment to the stark black and green - just like these attributes are not the defining aspects of who I consider myself to be, but certainly they are important and present...I think. I hope. I'm nurturing and stuff, aren't I, Honey????]

Green: Green shades symbolize life, freshness, nature and fertility. A common choice for eco-friendly brides, green shows that you value your health and the environment. A harmonized and balanced color, green is a mixture of warm yellow and cool blue, just like its admirers. A calming and tranquil hue, brides who select green are affectionate, frank and responsible. You seek stability and balance, yet remain fiercely principled and refined. [Commentary: and Irish. What about Irish? Stupid website forgot IRISH!]

score!

2008-10-01T14:12:00.005-05:00

Dear Fiancé,

You may think I don't listen to you, but, turns out, I do [usually.]

[ok, sometimes.]

I know you were scandalized by the thought of a $700+ pair of shoes in our home. And, truth be told, so was I (this is just one of the reasons I'm marrying you...we really are on the same page, see... except when you ask me to go camping). So, even before I saw the look of mortification on your face last night when I told you I'd bid on the Christian Louboutins, I had already discovered...[no peeking if Your name is The Fiancé!]... these ...at a mere fraction of the cost (literally)... and half-off. Half-off!! That just screams "buy me!" So clearly, I'd already ordered them (I mean, I didn't really think I'd luck into Louboutins for $300, and if I did, well, we'd find room for them. Somewhere. On my head if need be].

Anyway, the magical little much-less-expensive green shoes arrived today.

...AND I LOVE THEM! We have a winner! I do believe the green-wedding-shoe-quest has ceased! I actually can't adequately express on a blog how comfortable they are. And how they actually look far better in person than they did on the webpage. [And even if I hate them when I put them on with my dress - who cares! because they are returnable for 365 days at endless shoes - Gawd, I love online shoe shopping...]

This is not to say I won't be tempted to purchase a pair of designer adornments for the rehearsal dinner, but for now, I'm feeling pretty darn smug with the comfort and right-ness of these for the wedding day.

french kiss

2008-10-01T12:10:00.004-05:00

Yum... Hostess with the Mostess is a site after my own heart. Check out this delicious little cocktail recipe... looks so easy I think even an attorney [read: me] could make it:

Ingredients:
1 part vodka
1 part Chambord
1 part dark cream de cacao
1 1/2 parts half and half

Directions:
Shake ingredients with ice and strain. and proceed to devour.

the price of flour has gone up

2008-10-01T09:29:00.003-05:00

Yesterday over at sparkliatti, Sasha Souza posted the following stats:

I must confess they gave me pause. I mean really, $4.52 for a slice of cake? Maybe we don't need cake.

Ironically, 50 years ago today, the American Express charge card made its official debut. Seriously. I couldn't make this stuff up.

i want what i can't have

2008-09-30T12:01:00.005-05:00

I used to be crafty. I remember when I was nine I made this lovely little shoebox filled with paper people --They were kind of like those cut-outs with little fold-over tab clothing that you could dress [only they mine were permanently dressed, of course]. There was even furniture. Seriously. 3D. I was so creative. I presented my shoebox to my grandmother, and of course she confirmed my brilliance and applauded my artistic abilities.

Then, I grew up. I continued with artsy things right into college, wherein I eventually lost interest (or stopped getting As), and focused instead on more business-related pursuits. Fast forward to today, wherein my free time is spent reading the New York Times and researching CD rates rather than utilizing any remaining creative instincts.

This background may explain my quick obsession with wedding-related projects. One thing I never lost: my love of a good project. It took maybe 2.5 seconds after getting engaged to start dreaming of all the lovely d.i.y. projects I incorporate into The Wedding. There's just one problem: did I mention The Wedding isn't my day job? My former craftiness seems to have disappeared through sieve known as Life. Which is why, upon this history, when I stumble across amazing wedding d.i.y. projects done by much craftier folks than I, I actually wince with jealousy. Many of these projects seem to revolve around something called a "gocco." Again, I'm an attorney; I do not even know what "gocco" is. I think it's some sort of magical tool. Apparently it lets you create coasters like this, which incites the rage inside me... I think I want one, whatever it is.

Ridiculously cute coasters courtesy of Kristina and her gocco over at Lovely Mornings:

throw back

2008-09-30T08:39:00.002-05:00

In light of yesterday's events, I'm thinking of a whole new motif for The Wedding. I imagine it looking something like this:

source: The New Yorker

bring it

2008-09-29T16:59:00.001-05:00

Break Dancer
Originally uploaded by zunehmen

...on! Another tidbit from this past weekend... There was a brief display of attempted break-dancing by a few aspiring female breakers... which caused The Fiancé and I no small amount of *joy* as we both simultaneously had the same thought:

We have a friend who has recently taken up break-dancing.

Said friend has been known to read this blog.

The gauntlet is hereby thrown.

We can't wait to see You - and You know who You are - break it down at Our Wedding. You hereby have 6 1/2 months to prepare. We. Can't. Wait.

xoxo
Us.

temptation

2008-09-29T11:11:00.002-05:00

Remember these little beauties...? Yeah, well, um... I found 'em... on Ebay... in green. In both my size and one half size up (as several friends have noted Christian Louboutin runs small). BUT, they are still over $700... That's really really silly, right? To pay over $700 to walk around in 4" heels all day... Yes, silly. No good can come of this. Talking myself out of it. Help. Me.

all in the name of love

2008-09-28T21:11:00.008-05:00

This past weekend The Fiancé and I attended a wedding. This is not a momentous occasion. I mean, it's not like it was our wedding or something (read: momentous). Yet, since becoming engaged, weddings have taken on a whole new life. It used to be: You went (late), You prayed (if you weren't hung over), You drank (regardless), You danced (like a diva), You went home (tipsy). Now it goes something more like this:

You go (on time);
You scour the wedding program (hmmm...nice font; I like that song...);
You listen to the music and decide if You could incorporate any of the following:
(a) the singer (is she Catholic?),
(b) the song (can we do secular music...?), or maybe
(c) the instrument (I like strings...);
You listen to the readings and decide if You like them (I mean, seriously, did You ever care before?);
You critique the sermon (funny guy! Can we get him?);
You attend reception and do all of the following:
(a) look at the flowers,
(b) think about the food (steak, Yum!... wonder if Dad will pop for steak...),
(c) note the size of the guest list (holy cow this is a massive party... her poor dad...),
(d) think about ideas You might steal (that, this, ooo, and maybe thaaaat....),
(e) try to remember songs the band plays that everyone actually dances to (Living on a Prayer),
(f) note what the alcohol is instead of just blindly consume it (wow, open bar...I like, I like...),
and finally,
You go home,
EXHAUSTED ... as if you have just been married yourself.

Oh, and I forgot one thing about that whole "looking at the flowers at the reception..." You don't exactly just look at them... You kinda maybe sorta ask The Fiancé to take pictures of the centerpieces because You both agree they're simple but well-done, just the vibe You're going for. I repeat, You ask The Fiancé to take pictures of the centerpieces. And, amazing man that he is, he does it. At a wedding where You are a guest. The same Fiancé who previously toted a semi-automatic rifle around Iraq and Afghanistan when he served in the Army, yep, that same one... is now taking pictures of centerpieces. *sigh* You feel wholly responsible for your joint-sudden-decline-into-photographic-nonsense the next day as You scroll through your pictures of the night and realize You have equal pics people and flora...

But, the centerpieces are quite nice, no...?

anticipation

2008-09-25T08:49:00.001-05:00

Baby Feet
Originally uploaded by GTM (M. Alreshaid.)

...The Godchild has decided s/he is ready to meet the world today! Apparently once this decision is made, his/her presence is not immediate [there's this whole labor & delivery element involved], but we are SO looking forward to what today will bring!

Happy Day!

r.i.p. damask

2008-09-24T09:36:00.007-05:00

I'm not sure when, but at some point in this design adventure we're calling My Wedding, I stumbled across a print known as "damask". Now, if you've never heard of damask, you're not alone (neither had I two months ago...). If you have heard of it, you're probably (1) engaged; (2) married; (3) a wedding planner; or (4) been sucked into the abyss of a "Whose Wedding is it Anyway?" marathon. Anyway, that black-and-white swirly print in the photo above is what the billion dollar wedding industry calls damask.

Fairly soon after stumbling across this product of Damascus (seriously, it is - I looked it up), I decided that it totally worked with my black-white-and-green color scheme, and therefore, I had to have it. My Wedding Planner furiously began finding all-things-damask (frames, linens, small children wrapped in fabric, etc.) Merrily we went on our way, creating the vision of My Wedding with what-I-envisioned-to-be classy little damask accents to and fro.

Till last night anyway. When The Fiancé came home to a dining room table littered with Save the Date ideas - only one of which was damask. Guess which one he said, "Absolutely no" to? Mmm hmm. The damask one (oh, and the damask fabric swatch and the damask picture frame My Wedding Planner had sent along as inspiration...). And the funny thing? I actually felt relieved. After all the photos and ideas of beautiful damask things, I realized that I had been trying really hard to love damask. I had. But, well, it's damask. And if you know me... I. am. not. damask.

When I called my mother this morning to discuss Save the Dates (seriously, some mornings I wonder what happened to my formerly illustrious life), she seemed quite pleased with the summary elimination of all-things-damask. Apparently she was not a fan either. Here I had been, floating on my little damask-covered-island, with no one to tell me I didn't quite fit in. Thank heavens The Fiancé has no self-censor. His "absolutely no" burst from his mouth before the thought "maybe she really likes it" even crossed his mind. Thanks, Honey.

So, today, we bow our heads and take a moment to remember My Wedding that never was: the damask one. R.I.P. Damask.

they're returnable.

2008-09-23T14:42:00.005-05:00

...I shouldn't have.

I kept trying not to.

But the stupid website kept popping up on my computer [maybe because I kept typing in the address, but that is neither here nor there].

Thus, after many a day of peeking...

Then closing page...

Then peeking again...

That little addictive mecca, a/k/a Zappos Couture [yes, there's a Couture section now...*sigh*], finally got the best of me, took over my powers of self control, stole my credit card info from my wallet, punched "purchase" all on its own, and now, in roughly 24 hours, these little beauties will arrive. I will regret this in the morning, I'm sure. At least, that is, till FedEx arrives...

if she only knew

2008-09-23T11:10:00.001-05:00

IMG_1140
Originally uploaded by Bailee's Bride

...Some days [read: today, like when I obsess over photographer's websites], I really, truly wish I'd taken up photography back in the day when I was a student and had access to those helpful little ladders-to-success called "teachers" and "classes".

Instead, I am an attorney [read: definitely not a photographer] and the only person (yes, she is a person!) that regularly agrees to be my model (basically because she has no choice) is Bailee. Poor dear.

(She and I are still holding out for the day when Daddy agrees she can wear a dress and veil...THAT photo shoot will be my shining moment on Flickr)

ihavealotofclothes

2008-09-23T09:55:00.001-05:00

ihavealotofclothes
Originally uploaded by danske

...like, a ton. And the older I get, the less I like 85% of the clothes I own (now, the clothes in the store, THAT is a different story...I love THOSE... which may be what contributed to the percentage of fabric hanging in my home...).

It generally takes me 30 minutes to get ready on a school day... from first stretch to when my keys are locking the door. Today, for reasons unbeknownst to me, it took 65. Sixty-five. Do You know why? Because I stood staring in Closet #1, unhappy with the options. Then I trooped over to Closet #2, and I didn't like anything there. Back and forth. Back and forth. Shirt on. Shirt off. Shirt on. Shirt off.

Have you heard of those people that come to your home and go through your closet and tell you what you should keep, what you should buy, what you should donate, and what should just go straight to the dumpster? I once thought the idea was assinine. I mean, who needs that, right? Till this morning anyway. In my 65 minutes of indecision, The Fiancé managed to (1) do a load of laundry; (2) walk the dog; (3) take out the trash; (4) drop off our dry-cleaning; and (5) take his first conference call of the day. [Now, granted, he only has one mere foot of closet space from which to choose from (as if!), but I suppose that might be my fault, not his].

In that same span of wakefulness, I, managed to take my outfit off and try roughly 4 other ones on.

I have a lot of clothes. It may be time to reevaluate...

chivalry is dead

2008-09-22T10:39:00.006-05:00

Dear Man on The L,

This weekend I suffered the first known injury of my engagement.

Picture a beautiful day... high 70s, sunny... Imagine You live a mere 1.3 miles from beautiful Lake Michigan. Then insert The Fiancé, eager to join You on a nice little run to the lake and back. Off You go, high on adreline because You are IN SHAPE, You are RUNNING ON A SATURDAY, You look good in those Nike shorts! You are having WITTY CONVERSATION without being out of breath. This is the life!!! That is, at least, until 10 minutes later and two blocks from Your home, when You suffer an unfortunate incident with a curb and the displacement of Your foot off said curb. Result: a lovely little twisted ankle (picture: puffy and purple and not at all bride-like), and a Saturday afternoon shot to hell. Adrenaline is replaced with depression: how will You ever become Buff Bride when the heavens are aligned against You like this?!

Thankfully after two days of RICE (rest, ice, compression and elevation, per Dr. Fiancé), I feel much better. That is, I did feel much better, until I embarked on the bane of my existence in order to return to work: The L.

One would think when You're a healthy 25 year old male with a seat on the L and You see an old hag (a/k/a Your's truly) with an ACE bandage on her ankle, You'd give up your seat before she falls on her arse, but nooooo..... Let her wobble around in uncertain safety for 25 bloody minutes. Right in front of You.

Anyway, I really hope You (read: Mr.-won't-give-up-seat-to-the-handicapped) have a great day.

xoxo,
Gimpy

stalking evangeline lilly

2008-09-22T09:00:00.007-05:00

First I was going to post the pic to the left as an example of an absolutely perfect gown {that could even be a wedding gown if You were glamorous and didn't mind 'sexy' being one of the adjectives to describe You on Your big day - neither of which describes me}. Then I was going to post the pic to the right as an example of the hair style I would love to rock on my big day {if I were carefree and effortless..and brunette...none of which I am, at least today}.

Then I decided to hell with it: I don't want the dress or the hair. I want the body, the skin, the hair and the access to incredible fashion. Is that so much to ask? Note to self: must find new job STAT. Perferrably one involving less document review and more Emmy party invites.

cliffside

2008-09-19T08:40:00.009-05:00

This morning I'm a bit sore from having clawed my way back up and over from the precipice I flew over yesterday...the precipice into medoldramatic romanticism. The scary, scary thing? I didn't even know I'd fallen until last night, when The Fiancé was reading my blog and suddenly exclaimed aloud, "'makes [your] throat close, [your] eyes smart, and [your] stomach clench'?!?! You're kidding, right? Really? Since when?" He looked at me in mock horror.

I cringed.

And it was then that I realized...I had become my own mortal enemy: a bride. Thankfully, I am about to marry someone who is capable of identifying my own absurdity. And unapologetically pointing it out to me. Before helping me climb back to sanity.

30 years of singledom and intelligence and strength, all down the drain with one little photograph. Alas, is there hope for me? According to Caitlin Gibson and Rachel Manteuffel in a recent Washington Post article, I'm not alone, for they decry:

"But we have seen what happens to some intelligent, strong women when confronted by the multibillion-dollar Wedding Industrial Complex: Those few unattractive tendencies, weaknesses generally kept under control -- bossiness, melodramatic romanticism, obsession with looks, agony over superficial details -- coalesce into a toxic distillate. What chance does anyone have against an industry that seduces the rampaging feminine id?"

So you see, like everything, this is not my fault. I am a mere victim of the Wedding Industrial Complex. How can I possibly compete?

source: Princess Lasertron, as featured on The Offbeat Bride. Drown in button bouquet wedding porn on her Flickr photostream.

[untitled]

2008-09-17T15:55:00.015-05:00

Every bride has their "Thing" - that element that is so important to them and their vision of their wedding day that they will sacrifice other wants in pursuit of this one "need" on their day. Mine? Photography. It is the single most important [material, tangible, non-human] Thing to me on our wedding day. Why? Because it is the one Thing, after the champagne stops flowing, we get to keep.

The venue? Not ours.

The band? Will play for someone else the next week.

The church? Will celebrate other momentous occasions that have no bearing on our lives together.

The dress? Will never be worn again.

The flowers? No one will remember.

The invitations? Will be quickly and haphazardly discarded.

But the pictures? Are the one Thing we will have to show our children of the afternoon we thought about our future with them before they ever arrived, the one Thing that we can pull out to remind ourselves about what it felt like to be in each and every little moment as it unfolded.

That's why, in all the wedding porn I scan on an all-too-frequent basis, the stuff that really makes my throat close, my eyes smart, and my stomach clench, aren't flowers or dresses or pretty centerpieces [though I will continue to pour over them, all the same...]. They are photographs like this one, of a wedding in Scotland, where I don't even see what the bride is wearing or the flowers she's holding. I just see the way she's smiling. And the way the priest is grasping her groom's hand, with the light invading the space behind him. And there's the realization that in this photo, You can see the first moment of a marriage.

source: http://www.lillianandleonard.com/ (A breathtakingly beautiful site...)

make money money money

2008-09-17T15:55:00.007-05:00

Given the current state of the economy, maybe we [read: I] should all carry around a little wallet like this one by Trees with Knees...

[The Fiancé will be tickled pink by this post, considering just last night I vainly tried to articulate the reason why we need to go shopping at Nordstroms this weekend during their triple-bonus-points sale (If you have their card, you know what I'm talking about...). Problem: I couldn't come up with one single bloody thing I need to shop for. It was a sad, sad day, my friends.]

it's not my fault

2008-09-17T15:55:00.005-05:00

Apparently Forbes magazine has listed my current residence as the most stressful city in the country.

At least now I'll have a response when, in the ensuing months leading up to our blissful wedding date, The Fiancé [or anyone else for that matter] insists that I must relax, that I'm too stressed out.

I can just tell them it's not me [because I am perfect, you see. All things in moderation when it comes to stress levels, et cetera, et cetera... Stop laughing, Dear.]; it's just that I live here:

so you're saying there's a chance...

2008-09-17T09:53:00.008-05:00

He never claimed to be fashion forward, so when The Fiancé suggested that he wear a morning suit for our nuptials, I accepted the suggestion with equal parts horror and bemusement. I wasn't even sure what a morning suit was at the time, but since he was bringing it up, I was fairly certain it might evolve into some sort of fashion catastrophe.

However, today I officially take it all back. I am in love with the morning suit on the groom in the entry from http://www.elizabethannedesigns.com/blog/ - ooo la la. J'adore.

The wedding pictured above took place at the Central Park Observatory Gardens (I wish!), followed by a reception at the Rainbow Room (ummm... Wow... who are these people?). The photos are from Brian Dorsey.

monogamy is a fickle thing

2008-09-17T09:41:00.005-05:00

Today, the New York Times poses a new "remedy"... A Commitment Pill?

I, for one, am not sure I'd want the type partner who only stuck around if they remembered to take their pill. Correction: I am confident I would not.

in seersucker and in shame

2008-09-16T13:55:00.008-05:00

I adore the New York Times. I do. I shudder, however, when the New York Times reports that the latest trend of wedding couples is to dictate their guests' attire... As in, "Please wear x, not y..."

I had to read this article twice to determine its authenticity. I mean, it had to be a joke, right? There can't really be a bride out there who "is requesting “hacienda chic,” which, as interpreted by the bride-to-be, means seersucker suits for men and brightly colored cocktail dresses for women."... can there?!?

[Think: Amanda Brooks & Hamish Bowles in Men's Vogue, circa 2006:]

I mean, yes, the attire [at right] is adorable. But it somehow loses its appeal when mandated. In fact, it just becomes downright absurd. Moreover, the thought of any number of our friends in seersucker literally makes a chuckle bubble up inside me. *Hee* Incomprehensible.

Why, then, I wonder, do some brides feel the desire to define not just themselves on their wedding day, but their treasured guests? This desperate grasp for control seems to be the final bucket heave from an otherwise sinking ship.

"According to Antonia van der Meer, the editor in chief of Modern Bride and Elegant Bride magazines, many guests enjoy being asked to dress in “festive brights” or “boating elegant.”"

Really?! Who are these guests? I can assure you they are not the type guests The Fiancé and I would be to any sort of wedded soiree, and thus I must assume they are not the type guests we would invite either. I'm not even sure what "boating elegant" means... This does cause me to ponder, however, what we'd see if we requested our guests arrive in "Irish Chic." Tweed jackets and riding britches, maybe...? Oooo, or Aran Islands wool atop tulle... yes, that would be lovely... I do love tulle...

"[W]hen she married Rossano Rubicondi in Palm Beach, Fla., in April, Ivana Trump spelled out her wishes at the bottom of the invitation. Opposite the words “no cameras or cellphones permitted” were the guidelines for attire: white tie for men and “pastelle” long gowns for women, with three additional caveats: no prints; no yellow (reserved for the maid of honor); and no pink (reserved for the bride).""

Wow. Dear Guests: I hereby pledge you can wear whatever you want to our wedding (I know I will live to regret this, but sobeit...). Just promise to have a merry old time. The only thing reserved for this Bride on her wedding day is the heart of her Groom (be it dressed in tweed or seersucker or anything in-between).

subtlety is my specialty

2008-09-16T11:25:00.007-05:00

I wonder if a certain sister [read: mine] and brother-in-law would permit The Fiancé and I to depart the reception in their cute little Porsche convertible with a cute little sign tacked on...? Sorta like this one, maybe [inserting certain black Boxster in place of white vintage model] ... Just an idea ... in case they're reading this blog ...

i am many things; graceful biker is not one of them

2008-09-16T08:26:00.002-05:00

Dear Fiancé:

Could you imagine the two of us having a pic like this...? I didn't think so, considering the first time we went biking, I promptly went face-first over the handlebars after hitting [rather than jumping] the curb. And you laughed. (I did too, so it's ok).

Lots more beautiful photos from this bicycle wedding over here.

source: Quintessential Images in the UK

bailee begonia?

2008-09-15T17:20:00.006-05:00

So if Bailee can't be there for the wedding, I wonder if we could just immortalize her in flowers like this couple did for their little Finnegan?! Priceless.

source: Soiree Floral in Nantucket

feel the burn

2008-09-15T10:22:00.011-05:00

After a weekend of too much consumption and not enough exercise, I'm feeling more like this:

...and less like the buff bride I am aiming to be. Thus, my Monday resolution: back to the gym we go!

I just wish there was some magic potion I could take that equaled toned tummy without food deprivation and sweat inducement. I've been depressed ever since my 105 lb, 17% body fat personal trainer told me that "the days of being able to eat whatever you want and undo it with a hard work out are over." Crap. Really?!? So, what, I replied, am I supposed to do? Her response: "Eat less."

Ha! Good one. But no, seriously...

sink the biz

2008-09-14T16:36:00.009-05:00

I went to law school in a little town in Indiana called Bloomington (a/k/a God's country). It didn't take long (ok, it was literally my first night there...) to discover Nick's English Hut. And it didn't take long thereafter (ok, it was my first Friday night on campus...) to be invited to play Sink the Biz... A game us "Hoosiers" (don't ask met to define that) take pride in saying originated at Nick's English Hut. The Rules of the Game are simple: You have a bucket filled with beer. You place a shot glass in The Bucket, and take turns pouring beer into the glass until it "sinks", and the [un]lucky sinker has to chug the shot. (Vicious deviations in the game require the sinker to chug the whole Bucket... followed immediately thereafter by a trip to the E.R. for alcohol poisoning.) Having spent three glorious years of my existence partaking in this debauchery at Nick's (and several years thereafter returning to play some more...), you can imagine the glee of me and my fellow I.U. alums when at The Fiancé's and my engagement party last night, it was discovered that our hostess was the proud owner of her very own Bucket. Not just any bucket. The Bucket. Like the kind you can only buy at Nick's. With, regulation shot glass. Game on.

An evening of gracious celebration (think: champagne toasts, wine directly from Napa, home-baked crab dip ...) quickly turned into a Lesson to non-I.U. grads (including The Fiancé) about the Rules of the Game... The remainder of the evening is a bit fuzzy. Go I.U.

Fast forward to today, wherein The Fiancé delightedly informed me that Sink the Bismarck is probably a reference to the German warship of WWII fame.

My response: blank stare.

Clearly he did not go to I.U. (and instead went some place that teaches silly things like history). Here I just thought it was a drinking game.

photo envy

2008-09-14T16:21:00.003-05:00

Endless love
Originally uploaded by millzero.com

...while I like [not love] the city where we'll be married [let's just say it's nickname is "Naptown..."] , given that it is hundreds of miles from an ocean [or a hill] I regret that we won't have pictures like this...

yum yum

2008-09-12T16:59:00.005-05:00

I'm not sure whether to drink it or eat it. I just know that as an Irish Bride marrying an Irish Groom: I want it.

source: Irene's Cakes by Design

grand entrance

2008-09-12T15:09:00.010-05:00

The Godchild doesn't know it yet (because s/he has yet to make his/her appearance, and therefore we haven't had an opportunity to discuss...), but this is how I envision him/her arriving at the wedding.

I wonder if they could pull me down the aisle too... looks kinda fun...

source: http://www.evokephotography.com/

shoe whore

2008-09-12T14:19:00.006-05:00

I would literally go to the ends of the earth to find these [discontinued, never to be found again] pieces of art [preferrably in green] in my size (it's 8, by the way, if Your name is Fairy Godmother):

They are Christian Louboutin. Rosazissimo Heel. And I would marry them if they asked me. (Just kidding).

*le sigh*

“is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

2008-09-12T12:32:00.005-05:00

When one says "gun" in the same sentence as "wedding," the natural inclination (one would think) is that it is a conversation about wedding registries... (or maybe shot gun marriages?!)Because where else would the two words collide?! You can imagine my horror, then, when The Fiancé, upon my announcement of this blog's commencement, asked if he could be a guest blogger... and blog about guns (the real, not the registry, kind). He wondered aloud if there was some way they could be incorporated into our wedding. Answer: No. I love this former Army-officer dearly. But Dear, you're going to have to think of another topic before I hand over the keyboard.

Nonetheless, in his honor, I did find this - and the answer to whether we can have it, is, preemtively: NO.

wedding porn

2008-09-12T10:59:00.004-05:00

Sara from the $2000 wedding blog coined this term on elizabethannedesigns.com/blog today, and it occurs to me that there is no better way to describe wedding magazines and blogs.

I, like many brides, suffer from an addiction to this "wedding porn" that comes and goes in waves (that is directly correlative to what else is ... or is not ... going on in my life). I struggle with the vacillating desire to plan the wedding of my dreams and the desire to elope (and eskew all things kitschy). Thankfully, I still have seven months to find the happy medium, but sometimes I wonder (like when my wedding planner suggests a budget of $10k to $40k for FLOWERS/DECOR), how did I get HERE and how can I both enjoy the indulgence of this process and stay true to my sometimes-anti-bride self?

tulle

2008-09-12T10:03:00.005-05:00

i recently asked my dear friend if her soon-to-be-four year old daughter would be our flower girl. she seemed touched (and horrified) at the invitation. I immediately began the search for dresses, now that I had a vision of the child to dress up. Upon discovery of this little number:

source: nikisuitor.etsy.com

I shrieked (literally) with unadulterated glee. TULLE TULLE so much lovely tulle! Can't You just SEE a little girl twirling around in this all night?! Blinded by my excitement, I committed a recurring error: I showed the pic to The Fiancé. Must. Stop. Doing. That. Because he didn't like it. I hope he doesn't continue to have opinions [read: that conflict with mine].

the godchild

2008-09-12T09:24:00.004-05:00

in weeks, maybe days, The Fiancé and I will officially become GODPARENTS! In anticipation of this momentous occassion, what's a girl to do... BUT shop. I mean, if You were a baby, You'd wanna wear THIS (I know I would...):

source: http://www.cottonbabyonesies.com/