The holiday season is upon us. Literally. Thanksgiving is only weeks away, and Christmas is right around the corner.
For John and I, this time of the year is always hectic. I know it's hectic for everyone, but I feel it's doubly, or even triple-y, hectic for us. Not only do we have Thanksgiving and Christmas, but November 11 is our "dating anniversary", December 11 is my birthday and December 8 is my nephew's birthday. Plus, John's sister and brother-in-law also have birthdays in December.
Regardless of the craziness the holidays bring, I cannot wait for this time of year. It always seems to arrive quicker and pass faster with each year, but I still count down the days like a small child.
This year, especially, is going to be a special holiday season. For John and I, it's our last "single" Christmas. This time next year, we'll be preparing for our own holiday season in our own home. When I think about how we'll decorate our future home, what kind of traditions we'll do, I get really excited. There is so much to look forward to.
John and I will have been together four years next week. This Christmas will mark our fifth together. So far, we have mostly participated in my family's traditions. When we first met, John was amazed at the "togetherness" of my family. We have a lot of traditions, and we take them seriously. John's childhood, while still very good, was very different. When I asked him "How would you describe your family's holiday traditions?" his response was, "MY family's traditions? Nonexistent." I think you get the picture.
We generally eat Thanksgiving dinner at my parent's house, where there is, naturally, turkey, stuffing, potatoes, green bean casserole, and of course my mom's French Apple Pie.
In the days before Christmas, my mom and I make our traditional Christmas dinner: Tortellini. We make the pasta and filling (pork) from scratch, and we spend a day listening to Christmas music and drinking pink wine while we assemble quart after quart of tortellini. We also, of course, decorate the tree and the house to the nines.
We (usually) spend Christmas Eve with my family. For as long as I can remember, my family has gone to church and then either hosted or gone to Christmas Eve dinner with the same family we have been friends with forever. My dad (still) reads Twas the Night Before Christmas. Cookies are put out for Santa (what, he still doesn't come to your house?), stockings are filled, and we all go off to bed buzzed on our cocktails of choice and full from a great meal.
Christmas morning is spent leisurely opening presents. We have always opened presents together, taking turns, so everyone can see what everyone else got. We have an order, usually youngest to oldest. We have breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, raisin and oatmeal toast, juice and coffee. The rest of the day is spent rocking out to Christmas music, playing with new toys, taking a walk around the neighborhood, and just being together. For dinner, the tortellini is cooked in chicken broth and served like a soup, best eaten with a little Parmesan cheese, homemade bread and a good wine.
These are just a few of my favorite holiday traditions John and I have been participating in that I hope to carry over into our family. I love these traditions, and I hope (I think) John does too. With that said, I definitely want to create some traditions unique to us and our family.
What are some of your favorite holiday traditions? How did you blend your family's and his family's traditions? Did you create any of your own, and if so, what are they?
(All this talking about the holidays has me super ready for them. Although, Christmas cookies and fudge and all the other goodies aren't going to help me look good in my wedding dress. Maybe I should ask Santa for willpower this year.)
Friday, November 5, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
#20, or where has Pinot Noir been all my life?
This blog, for those who care, was originally about more than just my wedding. It was about something bigger, something more potentially life changing. Well, I seem to have fallen off the bandwagon (as I am wont to do, really), but I'm putting my foot down now. Let me just have a glass of wine.
But not just any wine. Red wine. Something that, up until a couple days ago, I hated. First of all, it's served room temperature, and I really hate that. I like my drinks hot or cold, depending on what it is, i.e. coffee or tea either way, water cold, hot chocolate, well hot. Second, the taste. For me, red wine always looks really good. I mean, it's a gorgeous drink, a really beautiful color, and god knows I love the look of wine glasses. So all in all, very pretty. It looks like it should taste fantastic, and I suppose to many people it is. But you know when you see something that looks really good, and you are really excited about until you actually take a bite, and you find it's nothing like you expected, and you really don't like it? You know that face you make when that happens? That's the face I make when I drink red wine.
But there is something so romantic about it to me. I've always thought it was a really adult thing to do, to go to a restaurant and drink red wine. I don't know why I think this, but it's something I associate with being an adult (I know, there are teenagers across the globe drinking cheap Merlot out of plastic cups who are definitely not adults). It's a sophisticated drink. To me, it says, "I'm an adult who knows what I'm talking about." Even if you really don't (and I know most probably don't, but bear with me).
Most of the time I feel like I'm just pretending to be an adult. I'm 23, almost 24. I have two degrees. I manage to make some money freelancing while job hunting. I can do my own laundry without losing socks (a real triumph), and I'm getting married, but I still feel like a kid. Whenever I go out with John's friends, who are all slightly older than me, I feel like I'm masquerading as one of them.
Which, in some ways, is kind of funny, because I don't know I've ever seen any of them drinking red wine. I'm pretty sure I've seen more of my age friends drinking red wine than his, but still, this is how I perceive it.
So, the other night, I decided to go out on a limb and give it another try. While at the grocery store, I purchased a bottle of Pinot Noir.
The (Illustrated) Story of Us: Pinot Noir & Me
I chose this specific type of red wine because I really like Pinot Grigio, so it seemed like a good place to start. I chose this brand because I really like its Pinot Grigio. And it was seven bucks, and that's about all I was willing to spend.
I carefully read the bottle. As you do. Well, at least as I do.
And then I took a sip.
And another.
And another.
The verdict?
I liked it. Even better, I really liked it. I might even say I love it. I could go as far to see it might be my new favorite drink, but my love for vodka tonics is long and strong, so I don't know about that. But I definitely enjoyed it much more than I thought I would.
I was honestly I little surprised it was as easy as this. I don't know if it was the kind of wine, the brand, the fact that no one is breathing down my neck asking, "Did you like it?" or what. But regardless, I like it. Maybe it's psychosomatic, but I really don't care. Even if I never find another kind of red wine I enjoy, I'll always have Bella Sera Pinot Noir.
And no, I don't automatically feel like an adult, but I do feel a little more sophisticated, a little more exciting, and adult-ish. Which is better than pseudo adult any day.
But not just any wine. Red wine. Something that, up until a couple days ago, I hated. First of all, it's served room temperature, and I really hate that. I like my drinks hot or cold, depending on what it is, i.e. coffee or tea either way, water cold, hot chocolate, well hot. Second, the taste. For me, red wine always looks really good. I mean, it's a gorgeous drink, a really beautiful color, and god knows I love the look of wine glasses. So all in all, very pretty. It looks like it should taste fantastic, and I suppose to many people it is. But you know when you see something that looks really good, and you are really excited about until you actually take a bite, and you find it's nothing like you expected, and you really don't like it? You know that face you make when that happens? That's the face I make when I drink red wine.
But there is something so romantic about it to me. I've always thought it was a really adult thing to do, to go to a restaurant and drink red wine. I don't know why I think this, but it's something I associate with being an adult (I know, there are teenagers across the globe drinking cheap Merlot out of plastic cups who are definitely not adults). It's a sophisticated drink. To me, it says, "I'm an adult who knows what I'm talking about." Even if you really don't (and I know most probably don't, but bear with me).
Most of the time I feel like I'm just pretending to be an adult. I'm 23, almost 24. I have two degrees. I manage to make some money freelancing while job hunting. I can do my own laundry without losing socks (a real triumph), and I'm getting married, but I still feel like a kid. Whenever I go out with John's friends, who are all slightly older than me, I feel like I'm masquerading as one of them.
Which, in some ways, is kind of funny, because I don't know I've ever seen any of them drinking red wine. I'm pretty sure I've seen more of my age friends drinking red wine than his, but still, this is how I perceive it.
So, the other night, I decided to go out on a limb and give it another try. While at the grocery store, I purchased a bottle of Pinot Noir.
The (Illustrated) Story of Us: Pinot Noir & Me
I chose this specific type of red wine because I really like Pinot Grigio, so it seemed like a good place to start. I chose this brand because I really like its Pinot Grigio. And it was seven bucks, and that's about all I was willing to spend.
I carefully read the bottle. As you do. Well, at least as I do.
And then I took a sip.
And another.
And another.
The verdict?
I liked it. Even better, I really liked it. I might even say I love it. I could go as far to see it might be my new favorite drink, but my love for vodka tonics is long and strong, so I don't know about that. But I definitely enjoyed it much more than I thought I would.
I was honestly I little surprised it was as easy as this. I don't know if it was the kind of wine, the brand, the fact that no one is breathing down my neck asking, "Did you like it?" or what. But regardless, I like it. Maybe it's psychosomatic, but I really don't care. Even if I never find another kind of red wine I enjoy, I'll always have Bella Sera Pinot Noir.
And no, I don't automatically feel like an adult, but I do feel a little more sophisticated, a little more exciting, and adult-ish. Which is better than pseudo adult any day.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
An uphill battle
I never thought planning this wedding would go according to plan. Everyone told me it would be stressful, and I've watched enough of Bridezillas to know there has to be something that makes these women insane.
For some, it may be flowers. For others, it's the dress. Maybe the cake, photographer, or caterer.
For me, it's the officiant.
When we first starting planning the wedding, I knew one thing for certain: Where the ceremony would take place. My mom is/was hell bent on having a Catholic mass ceremony, and I knew if we were going to do that, we had to have it at the same church my parents were married in. It was the only place I would even entertain to get married at.
We are not parishioners of this church, but actually getting married there wasn't going to be a problem, as long as we paid twice the amount we would have paid elsewhere, they'd marry us. Great.
"But you'll need to find an officiant."
Okay. How hard can it be?
Oh, how naive I was! I really thought this would be a cinch. But the pastor from my church was going to be in Europe during June 2011. And deacons can't say a mass. That left the other church. But wait, even though it isn't my church and we're paying buttloads of money to use it for one hour, I still had to contact their priests! Okay! I can do that!
Except their priest? Really bad at getting back to people. Like, awful. I mean, for someone who has to talk to people all the time, you'd think he'd be better at interpersonal communication.
After multiple attempts by both myself and the wedding coordinator of the church, the priest FINALLY called me back. Except I was in class at the time and couldn't answer. So he had to leave a message. And when I went to call him back not even 15 minutes later, he was out of the office. So I had to leave a message.
And I never heard back from him. Apparently a few phone messages was enough, because the church let us book, and we paid a deposit. But, a couple months later, the wedding coordinator contacted me to let me know our officiant had left that church. He left us one way of getting in touch with him: A single, solitary email address.
And this brings us back to where we are now. A couple weeks ago, I sent our officiant an email to we could set up a time to meet. Given his track record, I figured I should start early. But when I didn't hear back from him after several attempts over a month period, I started to get nervous. I broke down and emailed the wedding coordinator, who so gracefully informed me she hadn't heard from him either, and I better get to lookin' for a new one.
So now we are officiantless, as we were several months ago. I'm trying not to panic, but I can finally understand why so many brides lose it. When you spend so much time, energy, and money into organizing one day, it's easy to get pretty upset when someone messes with it.
If it were anything else, I think I might react better. You can always get a new dress, flowers can be fixed, and the cake isn't that important. But the officiant? He actually marries you. Pretty important.
So, hey, Archdiocese of New Orleans? I need a new officiant, over here.
For some, it may be flowers. For others, it's the dress. Maybe the cake, photographer, or caterer.
For me, it's the officiant.
When we first starting planning the wedding, I knew one thing for certain: Where the ceremony would take place. My mom is/was hell bent on having a Catholic mass ceremony, and I knew if we were going to do that, we had to have it at the same church my parents were married in. It was the only place I would even entertain to get married at.
We are not parishioners of this church, but actually getting married there wasn't going to be a problem, as long as we paid twice the amount we would have paid elsewhere, they'd marry us. Great.
"But you'll need to find an officiant."
Okay. How hard can it be?
Oh, how naive I was! I really thought this would be a cinch. But the pastor from my church was going to be in Europe during June 2011. And deacons can't say a mass. That left the other church. But wait, even though it isn't my church and we're paying buttloads of money to use it for one hour, I still had to contact their priests! Okay! I can do that!
Except their priest? Really bad at getting back to people. Like, awful. I mean, for someone who has to talk to people all the time, you'd think he'd be better at interpersonal communication.
After multiple attempts by both myself and the wedding coordinator of the church, the priest FINALLY called me back. Except I was in class at the time and couldn't answer. So he had to leave a message. And when I went to call him back not even 15 minutes later, he was out of the office. So I had to leave a message.
And I never heard back from him. Apparently a few phone messages was enough, because the church let us book, and we paid a deposit. But, a couple months later, the wedding coordinator contacted me to let me know our officiant had left that church. He left us one way of getting in touch with him: A single, solitary email address.
And this brings us back to where we are now. A couple weeks ago, I sent our officiant an email to we could set up a time to meet. Given his track record, I figured I should start early. But when I didn't hear back from him after several attempts over a month period, I started to get nervous. I broke down and emailed the wedding coordinator, who so gracefully informed me she hadn't heard from him either, and I better get to lookin' for a new one.
So now we are officiantless, as we were several months ago. I'm trying not to panic, but I can finally understand why so many brides lose it. When you spend so much time, energy, and money into organizing one day, it's easy to get pretty upset when someone messes with it.
If it were anything else, I think I might react better. You can always get a new dress, flowers can be fixed, and the cake isn't that important. But the officiant? He actually marries you. Pretty important.
So, hey, Archdiocese of New Orleans? I need a new officiant, over here.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Oh, I have a blog?
So, I've really dropped the ball on my little project over here. At least, I've dropped the ball on the blogging part of it.
Anyway, I have been up to things, both project related, wedding related and otherwise:
I've taught someone something. I've watched a scary movie (I would even say it was two scary movies, but John would probably argue neither were than scary. I beg to differ on this. My game, my rules). I've added to my fitness routine by doing power yoga and pilates. And I've been working on a few other things, as well.
Wedding related, I ordered my save-the-dates yesterday (so, so, so cute!), picked out my invitations
In the otherwise department, we went on a small vacation to Florida for Labor Day, where we celebrated John's birthday and my mom's birthday. I went to Lafayette to visit my brother, SIL and nephew. I went to Baton Rouge (a lot) to visit John. I've also been trying my hardest to get a job, which is almost like a job in and of itself (albeit an extremely unrewarding, crappy paying one).
So, what I'm saying here is, no I haven't forgotten about this. I've just been busy. And if I'm being an entirely honest, I little uninspired, but I'm working on that. I've got a few entries outlined, so hopefully I'll be back to our regularly scheduled blog posts shortly.
Toodles! (For today only! I promise!)
Anyway, I have been up to things, both project related, wedding related and otherwise:
I've taught someone something. I've watched a scary movie (I would even say it was two scary movies, but John would probably argue neither were than scary. I beg to differ on this. My game, my rules). I've added to my fitness routine by doing power yoga and pilates. And I've been working on a few other things, as well.
Wedding related, I ordered my save-the-dates yesterday (so, so, so cute!), picked out my invitations
In the otherwise department, we went on a small vacation to Florida for Labor Day, where we celebrated John's birthday and my mom's birthday. I went to Lafayette to visit my brother, SIL and nephew. I went to Baton Rouge (a lot) to visit John. I've also been trying my hardest to get a job, which is almost like a job in and of itself (albeit an extremely unrewarding, crappy paying one).
So, what I'm saying here is, no I haven't forgotten about this. I've just been busy. And if I'm being an entirely honest, I little uninspired, but I'm working on that. I've got a few entries outlined, so hopefully I'll be back to our regularly scheduled blog posts shortly.
Toodles! (For today only! I promise!)
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Wedding dress success
I went wedding dress shopping yesterday, and it was an experience.
If you remember, I had some qualms about going wedding dress shopping. Yesterday morning, I had a case a nerves similar to those I would get on the first day of school. Not entirely sure what to expect, but still excited for the experience.
I had made an appointment at Southern Bridal, a boutique in Mandeville, Louisiana, where I live. Overall, I had a great experience. Here are 5 things I learned about wedding gowns while shopping for wedding gowns:
1. There is no such thing as a standard sample size.
Southern Bridal, though small, had a lot of dresses, and several designers. I found myself confined to only two or three designers because they had samples in "larger" sizes (and my larger I mean 10, 12, or 14). If it was any smaller than a 10, as they say, fuggedaboutit. My maid of honor brought me in a beautiful dress that was a size 8, and I couldn't even get it on.
2. Forget standard sample size, there is no such thing as a standard sizing system. Period.
A 12 in one designer would fit, but be too snug in another. Also? I learned I could fit in a size 14 in certain dresses, if they were a certain style. I didn't really want a mermaid style dress, but in the interest of being open-minded, I decided to try on some. Well, once we were in the dressing room with them, I couldn't even get them on. Clearly, the sample sizes were not meant for someone with hips. They could have been beautiful on me, but we'll never know. Oh well.
3. Those bitches can be heavy.
You just don't realize how much tonnage beading, lace and embroidery can hold until you are trying to get a dress with a fully beaded bodice and train on.
4. A dress might be gorgeous, but breathing is never overrated.
I tried on a discontinued dress that was breathtaking...literally. I mean, it fit, but it was TIGHT. The people at the store "thought" there was enough fabric to let out, but really, on a purchase like this, I'm going to need a more positive answer then "I think." Also, some of the beading was loose, and in general, my mom and I were hesitant about buying a sample dress, even if it was 50% off (for the record, the dress was pretty pricey to begin with so, the discounted price was okay, but with alteration fees I'm not sure it would have been that much of a steal).
5. In the end, you may pick out a dress you never envisioned yourself in.
Needless to say, I've thought about John and my wedding day a lot. Of all the factors involved in a wedding, my wedding dress has been the one that has changed the most. I guess it's because I hadn't tried any on yet, but every time I envisioned our wedding day, I saw something different. With that said, the dress I picked yesterday is nothing like I ever thought I would wear. It's absolutely beautiful, of course, (I can't describe it here, but if you want to know more about it, email me at secretbrideblog (at) gmail (dot) com) and it was the only dress that when I put it on, I felt like a bride in. Not just any bride, but John's bride. This was the dress, that when I wore it, I could see myself walking down the aisle in. This was the dress I wanted to marry John in.
I just re-read that, oh my, is it ever sappy. But I guess weddings are sappy affairs.
Also, on Twitter the other day I asked what undergarments to wear while trying on dresses. Thanks for all the replies! I ended up going in a bustier and Spanx, and both made the dresses fit really well (when I could get in to them!).
In the interest of entertainment, here is a photo I posted on twitpic yesterday, of the aforementioned size 8 dress I couldn't get into.
Wedding dress fail:
ETA: I still can't believe I found a dress so...easily. I honestly thought it would be much more difficult, but I am relieved it's over, and so happy I found the perfect dress for me. (Granted, it was the first dress I tried on, but of course I tried on about a dozen or so after, just to be sure. What can I say? I like to be extra positive :P.)
If you remember, I had some qualms about going wedding dress shopping. Yesterday morning, I had a case a nerves similar to those I would get on the first day of school. Not entirely sure what to expect, but still excited for the experience.
I had made an appointment at Southern Bridal, a boutique in Mandeville, Louisiana, where I live. Overall, I had a great experience. Here are 5 things I learned about wedding gowns while shopping for wedding gowns:
1. There is no such thing as a standard sample size.
Southern Bridal, though small, had a lot of dresses, and several designers. I found myself confined to only two or three designers because they had samples in "larger" sizes (and my larger I mean 10, 12, or 14). If it was any smaller than a 10, as they say, fuggedaboutit. My maid of honor brought me in a beautiful dress that was a size 8, and I couldn't even get it on.
2. Forget standard sample size, there is no such thing as a standard sizing system. Period.
A 12 in one designer would fit, but be too snug in another. Also? I learned I could fit in a size 14 in certain dresses, if they were a certain style. I didn't really want a mermaid style dress, but in the interest of being open-minded, I decided to try on some. Well, once we were in the dressing room with them, I couldn't even get them on. Clearly, the sample sizes were not meant for someone with hips. They could have been beautiful on me, but we'll never know. Oh well.
3. Those bitches can be heavy.
You just don't realize how much tonnage beading, lace and embroidery can hold until you are trying to get a dress with a fully beaded bodice and train on.
4. A dress might be gorgeous, but breathing is never overrated.
I tried on a discontinued dress that was breathtaking...literally. I mean, it fit, but it was TIGHT. The people at the store "thought" there was enough fabric to let out, but really, on a purchase like this, I'm going to need a more positive answer then "I think." Also, some of the beading was loose, and in general, my mom and I were hesitant about buying a sample dress, even if it was 50% off (for the record, the dress was pretty pricey to begin with so, the discounted price was okay, but with alteration fees I'm not sure it would have been that much of a steal).
5. In the end, you may pick out a dress you never envisioned yourself in.
Needless to say, I've thought about John and my wedding day a lot. Of all the factors involved in a wedding, my wedding dress has been the one that has changed the most. I guess it's because I hadn't tried any on yet, but every time I envisioned our wedding day, I saw something different. With that said, the dress I picked yesterday is nothing like I ever thought I would wear. It's absolutely beautiful, of course, (I can't describe it here, but if you want to know more about it, email me at secretbrideblog (at) gmail (dot) com) and it was the only dress that when I put it on, I felt like a bride in. Not just any bride, but John's bride. This was the dress, that when I wore it, I could see myself walking down the aisle in. This was the dress I wanted to marry John in.
I just re-read that, oh my, is it ever sappy. But I guess weddings are sappy affairs.
Also, on Twitter the other day I asked what undergarments to wear while trying on dresses. Thanks for all the replies! I ended up going in a bustier and Spanx, and both made the dresses fit really well (when I could get in to them!).
In the interest of entertainment, here is a photo I posted on twitpic yesterday, of the aforementioned size 8 dress I couldn't get into.
Wedding dress fail:
ETA: I still can't believe I found a dress so...easily. I honestly thought it would be much more difficult, but I am relieved it's over, and so happy I found the perfect dress for me. (Granted, it was the first dress I tried on, but of course I tried on about a dozen or so after, just to be sure. What can I say? I like to be extra positive :P.)
Thursday, August 19, 2010
#30
#30 Accept the fact I will never join a gym and find a fitness program that works for me.
I often tell people I'm allergic to the gym, and I'm not lying when I say it. I have real, legitimate, visceral reactions when I am in, near, or around a gym. I start to sweat, itch and shake. I get a pit in my stomach. Every fiber in my being is screaming, "GET AWAY GET AWAY." Sometimes, I break out in a rash.
I've been told, by people with "medical degrees" and "knowledge", that this is less of an "allergic reaction" to the gym itself, but probably a "reaction to the anxiety I associate with the gym". Pffft. Whatever, doctors. I'm allergic to those bitches, and that's all there is to it.
Regardless of whether trained, medical professionals are correct or I am, one thing is undeniable: I really hate the mother effing gym.
As I have admitted in previous posts, I am not one of those stick thin girls. I'm not one of those in shape girls. Hell, I'm not even one of those average girls (all though, on a good day, I can pass for it). I am, as my noni so fondly calls it, a "big" girl. Slightly overweight. Big boned. I will never be thin. At my absolute smallest, I squeezed into a size 8, but if I'm being entirely honest, I was more comfortable in a 10. I am currently in a size 12. Sometimes, I wear a size 14.
And this, gentle readers, is why I hate the gym.
When you are a un-fit size 12/14, things don't always look good in motion. I believe Bridget Jones said it best: You know, wobbly bits. I have them. And, they, well, wobble when I try to do active things. Like, say, run. Or bike. Or whatever. I have no control over the direction certain body parts lumber off in. Things bounce without permission. Objects may make sudden, unexpected, uncontrollable movements. What I am saying is, I cannot control "the motion in the ocean" (Isn't that a pleasant image? I apologize). And there's nothing I can about it short of lubing myself up and shoving my whole body into a spandex suit, and you know, I'm not even sure that would do anything for my appropriately named thunder thighs.
So, when I run on the treadmill next to those stick thin, really fit guys and gals, I am super aware of what my own body looks like.
In addition to the body image dimorphism, I often feel like going to the gym is a competition against those around me. I see Pretty Blond Girl running, and I feel like I have to run as long as she does. If you haven't figured it out yet, I hate running and am not in shape, so this is delusional at best and down-right crazy at worst. I can never run as long as someone else at the gym.
Unless I find someone in worst shape than I am to compare myself to, I will always feel inadequate at the gym. And that's unlikely. How many overweight people do you see at the gym? Exactly. Few, if any. They avoid it for the same reasons I avoid it. Look it up. It's called gym intimidation. Seriously, you can Google it.
Anyway, long story short, the gym and I are not friends, and we never will be.
With that said, I want to look stunning on my wedding day, and I would love to put forth the effort to lose some weight. Just not at the gym. Enter my father (this is a good story, I promise). My dad walks every morning. Walking is something I can do. It's actually better on your joints than running, and brisk walking burns about the same calories per minute as running does .
So, every morning at about 6:30, I've been walking a few miles with my dad and other people from the neighborhood. It's actually, dare I say it, fun, because there's good company for gossiping, and I don't feel like anyone is judging me. I actually feel superior than people. I feel like I am exuding a very "Look at me! I'm up and at 'em and sweatin' and burnin' some fat! You all wish you were as awesome as me!" attitude. It's very liberating.
Anyhoo, so I'm walking. And I've added crunches to the routine, too. And soon, I'll start P90 with John. Between all of this, here's to hoping I'll see some results.
I often tell people I'm allergic to the gym, and I'm not lying when I say it. I have real, legitimate, visceral reactions when I am in, near, or around a gym. I start to sweat, itch and shake. I get a pit in my stomach. Every fiber in my being is screaming, "GET AWAY GET AWAY." Sometimes, I break out in a rash.
I've been told, by people with "medical degrees" and "knowledge", that this is less of an "allergic reaction" to the gym itself, but probably a "reaction to the anxiety I associate with the gym". Pffft. Whatever, doctors. I'm allergic to those bitches, and that's all there is to it.
Regardless of whether trained, medical professionals are correct or I am, one thing is undeniable: I really hate the mother effing gym.
As I have admitted in previous posts, I am not one of those stick thin girls. I'm not one of those in shape girls. Hell, I'm not even one of those average girls (all though, on a good day, I can pass for it). I am, as my noni so fondly calls it, a "big" girl. Slightly overweight. Big boned. I will never be thin. At my absolute smallest, I squeezed into a size 8, but if I'm being entirely honest, I was more comfortable in a 10. I am currently in a size 12. Sometimes, I wear a size 14.
And this, gentle readers, is why I hate the gym.
When you are a un-fit size 12/14, things don't always look good in motion. I believe Bridget Jones said it best: You know, wobbly bits. I have them. And, they, well, wobble when I try to do active things. Like, say, run. Or bike. Or whatever. I have no control over the direction certain body parts lumber off in. Things bounce without permission. Objects may make sudden, unexpected, uncontrollable movements. What I am saying is, I cannot control "the motion in the ocean" (Isn't that a pleasant image? I apologize). And there's nothing I can about it short of lubing myself up and shoving my whole body into a spandex suit, and you know, I'm not even sure that would do anything for my appropriately named thunder thighs.
So, when I run on the treadmill next to those stick thin, really fit guys and gals, I am super aware of what my own body looks like.
In addition to the body image dimorphism, I often feel like going to the gym is a competition against those around me. I see Pretty Blond Girl running, and I feel like I have to run as long as she does. If you haven't figured it out yet, I hate running and am not in shape, so this is delusional at best and down-right crazy at worst. I can never run as long as someone else at the gym.
Unless I find someone in worst shape than I am to compare myself to, I will always feel inadequate at the gym. And that's unlikely. How many overweight people do you see at the gym? Exactly. Few, if any. They avoid it for the same reasons I avoid it. Look it up. It's called gym intimidation. Seriously, you can Google it.
Anyway, long story short, the gym and I are not friends, and we never will be.
With that said, I want to look stunning on my wedding day, and I would love to put forth the effort to lose some weight. Just not at the gym. Enter my father (this is a good story, I promise). My dad walks every morning. Walking is something I can do. It's actually better on your joints than running, and brisk walking burns about the same calories per minute as running does .
So, every morning at about 6:30, I've been walking a few miles with my dad and other people from the neighborhood. It's actually, dare I say it, fun, because there's good company for gossiping, and I don't feel like anyone is judging me. I actually feel superior than people. I feel like I am exuding a very "Look at me! I'm up and at 'em and sweatin' and burnin' some fat! You all wish you were as awesome as me!" attitude. It's very liberating.
Anyhoo, so I'm walking. And I've added crunches to the routine, too. And soon, I'll start P90 with John. Between all of this, here's to hoping I'll see some results.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Wedding gown shopping, and why I'm losing sleep over it.
NOTE: Thanks to Andrea and Ace for commenting on the previous post! I appreciate the advice!
In a couple of weeks, I get to do one of the things I've looked forward to for most of my life. I'd say it's something most girls look forward: Trying on wedding dresses.
The funny thing is, I'm terrified.
Like most women, I've struggled with my weight for most of my life, and I'm sure the rest of it will likely be the same. I am not obese by any measure, but I am somewhat overweight, something I'm highly uncomfortable with due to the fact it's pointed out to me constantly by certain people. I blame my love of food, tasty, fattening food, usually, for my "tubbiness". I'd probably weigh a whole lot less if I had a little more will power, but I just can't deny myself that extra cookie/cake/brownie/french fry/what have you. What I'm saying is, food and I are BFFs.
I've always been this way, so it's not anything I'm not used to, but for some unexplained reason, I've gained a few pounds in the last few months. I say unexplained because I have been exercising more and watching what I eat more, so I'm truly perplexed. I know it isn't muscle gain, well, maybe some, but I honestly just feel flabbier.
(And if any of you wise cracks even for a moment suggest that I am pregnant, I assure you I am not.)
So, obviously, the last thing you want to do when you are feeling fat is try on clothes. You especially don't want to try on an article of clothing as important as a wedding dress. Add in the fact that I know most dresses run small, and I already wear a size 12 regularly, so I'll probably end up ordering a size 20 or something, and I'm breaking out into a sweat just thinking about it.
I've read all the crap about not concentrating on the number, just think of how you look in the dress, and while I can do this with jeans (I cut the tags out of all my jeans so no one else knows their size), I don't think I'll be able to do it with a wedding dress. Also, 12 is much easier to swallow than 20. I blame the media on this skewed body perception, but doesn't everybody?
Also, I am taking along my mother, who has always been more petite than I, and my skinniest MOH. This probably means nothing to you, but my MOH and I went on a diet together my senior year of HS. We both lost a lot of weight, but I gained it all back in college, and she was able to keep it all off. I have always felt a little upset with myself over this, because I figured, "well, everyone gains weight in college," but clearly not.
I know it's all mental, but my mind is my worst enemy. I'm hoping it will be more pleasant than I expect, as I am sure I'm overreacting, but still. Worrying is, unfortunately, what I do best.
In a couple of weeks, I get to do one of the things I've looked forward to for most of my life. I'd say it's something most girls look forward: Trying on wedding dresses.
The funny thing is, I'm terrified.
Like most women, I've struggled with my weight for most of my life, and I'm sure the rest of it will likely be the same. I am not obese by any measure, but I am somewhat overweight, something I'm highly uncomfortable with due to the fact it's pointed out to me constantly by certain people. I blame my love of food, tasty, fattening food, usually, for my "tubbiness". I'd probably weigh a whole lot less if I had a little more will power, but I just can't deny myself that extra cookie/cake/brownie/french fry/what have you. What I'm saying is, food and I are BFFs.
I've always been this way, so it's not anything I'm not used to, but for some unexplained reason, I've gained a few pounds in the last few months. I say unexplained because I have been exercising more and watching what I eat more, so I'm truly perplexed. I know it isn't muscle gain, well, maybe some, but I honestly just feel flabbier.
(And if any of you wise cracks even for a moment suggest that I am pregnant, I assure you I am not.)
So, obviously, the last thing you want to do when you are feeling fat is try on clothes. You especially don't want to try on an article of clothing as important as a wedding dress. Add in the fact that I know most dresses run small, and I already wear a size 12 regularly, so I'll probably end up ordering a size 20 or something, and I'm breaking out into a sweat just thinking about it.
I've read all the crap about not concentrating on the number, just think of how you look in the dress, and while I can do this with jeans (I cut the tags out of all my jeans so no one else knows their size), I don't think I'll be able to do it with a wedding dress. Also, 12 is much easier to swallow than 20. I blame the media on this skewed body perception, but doesn't everybody?
Also, I am taking along my mother, who has always been more petite than I, and my skinniest MOH. This probably means nothing to you, but my MOH and I went on a diet together my senior year of HS. We both lost a lot of weight, but I gained it all back in college, and she was able to keep it all off. I have always felt a little upset with myself over this, because I figured, "well, everyone gains weight in college," but clearly not.
I know it's all mental, but my mind is my worst enemy. I'm hoping it will be more pleasant than I expect, as I am sure I'm overreacting, but still. Worrying is, unfortunately, what I do best.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Moving, NYC, and life, among other things
So I survived my two day journey back to Louisiana from Massachusetts. Hardly. Kind of. Okay, it wasn't that bad.
Originally, we were supposed to tow my car behind the Penske rental truck so John and I could be in the truck together. This was supposed to be a test. Can we survive 30 hours trapped in a truck cab while driving cross country together? If yes, marriage should be a breeze. Well, when we went to put my Honda Civic on the tow dolly, we encountered a problem. It went something like this.
JOHN: OK, I'm going to drive it up now.
ME: Alright.
*John edges car onto dolly"
ME: STOP STOP STOP THE FRONT END IS HITTING IT! STOP STOP STOP!
(For the record, "it" was a huge screw on the dolly, and it was denting my front end.)
Well, it turned out the ground clearance on my car was too low, so we couldn't use the dolly. Cue panic attack.
I don't like surprises. I hate it when things don't go according to plan. I have very little "go with the flow" when it comes to things like this. I like order. Schedules. Plans. So this, this unexpected change, was the cherry on an anxiety sundae that tipped me over into full on, stress-ball Katy.
Basically, I had a melt down.
We had to bring the dolly back to rental place, and I have to give Penske props. Everyone we spoke to was really helpful and completely pleasant to deal with. They refunded me the cost of the dolly, and we had no problems whatsoever. If you ever need to rent a truck to move or what not, I highly recommend Penske. Good prices, great service.
We left at four AM Friday, the 7th. Things were going smoothly until we hit NYC.
In short, this is what we stared at for two hours:
NO ONE, and I mean no one, should have to sit in the Bronx for that long. I'm totally counting this as #26 completed. It might be fudging a little, but whatever, I experienced the joy that is the NY driver, so I'm considering it done.
We went on to get lost in New Jersey, thanks to the complexity and idiocy that is the NJ Turnpike. This resulted in another break down, but thank God for John, who was the sweetest thing ever, trying to get me to calm down. Seriously, this is why we are together. He balances out my crazy nicely.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, which was nice.
I am now living in my parents house (yuck) in Louisiana. It's the greatest of scenario, but the food is good, the bed is comfy, and frankly, I've seen worse. I still don't have a job, but I'm working as a freelance writer for now to pay the bills, which is actually pretty fun, considering. (SHAMELESS PLUG: If you want to hire me, check out my website www.katharineflockton.com)
Yesterday marked 10 months till the big day. Later this month I am going wedding dress shopping for the first time, and I am really nervous. There will be a post detailing this more later, but for now, what advice do you have for gown shopping?
Originally, we were supposed to tow my car behind the Penske rental truck so John and I could be in the truck together. This was supposed to be a test. Can we survive 30 hours trapped in a truck cab while driving cross country together? If yes, marriage should be a breeze. Well, when we went to put my Honda Civic on the tow dolly, we encountered a problem. It went something like this.
JOHN: OK, I'm going to drive it up now.
ME: Alright.
*John edges car onto dolly"
ME: STOP STOP STOP THE FRONT END IS HITTING IT! STOP STOP STOP!
(For the record, "it" was a huge screw on the dolly, and it was denting my front end.)
Well, it turned out the ground clearance on my car was too low, so we couldn't use the dolly. Cue panic attack.
I don't like surprises. I hate it when things don't go according to plan. I have very little "go with the flow" when it comes to things like this. I like order. Schedules. Plans. So this, this unexpected change, was the cherry on an anxiety sundae that tipped me over into full on, stress-ball Katy.
Basically, I had a melt down.
We had to bring the dolly back to rental place, and I have to give Penske props. Everyone we spoke to was really helpful and completely pleasant to deal with. They refunded me the cost of the dolly, and we had no problems whatsoever. If you ever need to rent a truck to move or what not, I highly recommend Penske. Good prices, great service.
We left at four AM Friday, the 7th. Things were going smoothly until we hit NYC.
In short, this is what we stared at for two hours:
NO ONE, and I mean no one, should have to sit in the Bronx for that long. I'm totally counting this as #26 completed. It might be fudging a little, but whatever, I experienced the joy that is the NY driver, so I'm considering it done.
We went on to get lost in New Jersey, thanks to the complexity and idiocy that is the NJ Turnpike. This resulted in another break down, but thank God for John, who was the sweetest thing ever, trying to get me to calm down. Seriously, this is why we are together. He balances out my crazy nicely.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, which was nice.
I am now living in my parents house (yuck) in Louisiana. It's the greatest of scenario, but the food is good, the bed is comfy, and frankly, I've seen worse. I still don't have a job, but I'm working as a freelance writer for now to pay the bills, which is actually pretty fun, considering. (SHAMELESS PLUG: If you want to hire me, check out my website www.katharineflockton.com)
Yesterday marked 10 months till the big day. Later this month I am going wedding dress shopping for the first time, and I am really nervous. There will be a post detailing this more later, but for now, what advice do you have for gown shopping?
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Carbs make the world a better place. Especially when you spent a Sunday night drinking a lot of alcohol. Hey, I don’t judge you (okay, maybe I do).
This was written yesterday, posted today, so just pretend you are reading this on a Monday, okay?
Last night my uncle (who I live with) took me out in Boston to celebrate finishing my master’s (which technically won’t be finished-finished till December, but whatever) and also my moving out of his house, something I suspect he is both looking forward to and dreading. We started our evening at a restaurant called Rocca, where we were supposed to have dinner, but because apparently the main dining area is closed on Sunday we decided to have a drink there and relocate for dinner.
(I realized I should have been taking pictures, but I am notorious for bringing my camera out with me, and then never taking a single picture. Oh well. As a result, we are going to play the “Let’s Google Image Search things I would have taken a picture of had I remembered to” game.)
So, anyway, we ended up having the best drink I’ve ever had at Rocca. It’s called a Strada 6A, and if you are ever in Boston and find yourself looking for a cool place in the South End to have a drink GO HERE AND ORDER THIS ONE. It was super tasty.
After the tasty drink, we went to Masa for dinner. Masa is like an upscale Mexican restaurant, which at first I was really excited about, but after reading the menu, finding most EVERYTHING in Spanish, so I wasn’t 100% sure what I was ordering, and not seeing a taco or burrito in sight (yes, I know this isn’t authentic Mexican, but it’s what I’m used to), I was a little wary. In an effort to be daring, and knock another thing of my list, I decided to try mahi-mahi, mostly because my mother once said I would like it, and I usually trust my mother.
It should be said I don’t particularly care for fish. I hate the way it smells; I hate the way (most) tastes. Unless it is deep fried, I usually stay away from it. But, I didn’t want to be lame and order the chicken.
Well, my dinner came, I hesitantly took a bite, and to my chagrin, I really liked it. It tasted nothing like fish, and, I really hate this saying because it’s so cliché, but it tasted like chicken.
This was not my dinner, but it kind of looked like it:
I just Google imaged searched mahi mahi, because I realized I’ve never seen one, and now I feel really bad, because it’s actually a really pretty fish! I’m sorry, little mahi mahi! Just in case you have never seen one either:
Anyway, pallet = expanding. I consider this a small personal victory, because when it comes to food, I am really picky. Mostly I just don't like the way a food sounds or looks, or I didn't like one type of a food cooked a certain way (as it was with fish), so I avoid it all together. I've been meaning to work on this. There is something very...young about saying, "I don't like _____, it tastes/feels/looks weird." So, good for me, I guess?
After dinner, we went on a tour of Boston gay clubs, starting at Club Cafe, where it was apparently piano bar night, where I had the following run in:
Attractive gay man carrying 2 drinks: Excuse me.
Me: Sure.
Attractive gay man, who has now bumped into me in the chest area: Oh! Sorry about that. Nice boobs though.
Me: Thanks.
This is why I love gay bars. Because you can have instances like this one and it's not all awkward and creepy, and it's funny and light and self-esteem boosting. Every girl should have a few gay friends for exactly this!
We then went on to Fritz, where I was literally the only female in the bar, and then closed the evening at the Eagle. And now it is the day after, and I am paying for my evening of fun dearly. Apparently I just can't bounce back as quickly as I used to, which is sad and unfortunate.
P.S. I am moving back to Louisiana in 3 days! And I get to see John in 2! This has nothing to do with anything, but I am really excited about it :). We've been doing the long distance relationship thing for a year now, and let's just say I was ready to be done with it a year ago.
Last night my uncle (who I live with) took me out in Boston to celebrate finishing my master’s (which technically won’t be finished-finished till December, but whatever) and also my moving out of his house, something I suspect he is both looking forward to and dreading. We started our evening at a restaurant called Rocca, where we were supposed to have dinner, but because apparently the main dining area is closed on Sunday we decided to have a drink there and relocate for dinner.
(I realized I should have been taking pictures, but I am notorious for bringing my camera out with me, and then never taking a single picture. Oh well. As a result, we are going to play the “Let’s Google Image Search things I would have taken a picture of had I remembered to” game.)
So, anyway, we ended up having the best drink I’ve ever had at Rocca. It’s called a Strada 6A, and if you are ever in Boston and find yourself looking for a cool place in the South End to have a drink GO HERE AND ORDER THIS ONE. It was super tasty.
After the tasty drink, we went to Masa for dinner. Masa is like an upscale Mexican restaurant, which at first I was really excited about, but after reading the menu, finding most EVERYTHING in Spanish, so I wasn’t 100% sure what I was ordering, and not seeing a taco or burrito in sight (yes, I know this isn’t authentic Mexican, but it’s what I’m used to), I was a little wary. In an effort to be daring, and knock another thing of my list, I decided to try mahi-mahi, mostly because my mother once said I would like it, and I usually trust my mother.
It should be said I don’t particularly care for fish. I hate the way it smells; I hate the way (most) tastes. Unless it is deep fried, I usually stay away from it. But, I didn’t want to be lame and order the chicken.
Well, my dinner came, I hesitantly took a bite, and to my chagrin, I really liked it. It tasted nothing like fish, and, I really hate this saying because it’s so cliché, but it tasted like chicken.
This was not my dinner, but it kind of looked like it:
I just Google imaged searched mahi mahi, because I realized I’ve never seen one, and now I feel really bad, because it’s actually a really pretty fish! I’m sorry, little mahi mahi! Just in case you have never seen one either:
Anyway, pallet = expanding. I consider this a small personal victory, because when it comes to food, I am really picky. Mostly I just don't like the way a food sounds or looks, or I didn't like one type of a food cooked a certain way (as it was with fish), so I avoid it all together. I've been meaning to work on this. There is something very...young about saying, "I don't like _____, it tastes/feels/looks weird." So, good for me, I guess?
After dinner, we went on a tour of Boston gay clubs, starting at Club Cafe, where it was apparently piano bar night, where I had the following run in:
Attractive gay man carrying 2 drinks: Excuse me.
Me: Sure.
Attractive gay man, who has now bumped into me in the chest area: Oh! Sorry about that. Nice boobs though.
Me: Thanks.
This is why I love gay bars. Because you can have instances like this one and it's not all awkward and creepy, and it's funny and light and self-esteem boosting. Every girl should have a few gay friends for exactly this!
We then went on to Fritz, where I was literally the only female in the bar, and then closed the evening at the Eagle. And now it is the day after, and I am paying for my evening of fun dearly. Apparently I just can't bounce back as quickly as I used to, which is sad and unfortunate.
P.S. I am moving back to Louisiana in 3 days! And I get to see John in 2! This has nothing to do with anything, but I am really excited about it :). We've been doing the long distance relationship thing for a year now, and let's just say I was ready to be done with it a year ago.
Friday, July 30, 2010
My mind is a messy place
I’ve been having really weird dreams lately.
I’m not sure if it’s the stress of finishing grad school, anxiety over moving, or the strange food combinations I’ve been eating to get rid of food prior to the move or what, but every night I have the strangest dreams.
Some are down right terrifying. For instance, a couple weeks ago I dreamt it was a couple months before the wedding, and I had to get braces put on again (for my not IRL people, I had braces for almost five years when I was in middle/junior high/high school. It was not something worth repeating). And for some reason, I couldn’t get Invisalign or those clear braces; no, all dream me could think about was how terrible my wedding pictures were going to be: Me with a massive metal mouth (and rubber bands). I was crying about it in the dream, and I woke up crying about it in real life.
A few nights ago, I had an incredibly realistic dream where I was being stalked. I have no clue who this person was, but it was a really scary, extremely realistic dream. You know that feeling you get right after you watch a scary movie or TV show, when you are getting ready for bed, and even though you know it’s highly unlikely, you can’t help but feel something is watching you? THAT’S THE FEELING I HAD THE ENTIRE DREAM. And it woke me up at three am, too afraid to go back to sleep and find out what dream stalker wanted from dream me.
I’ve also been having a dream, it’s not really “recurring” because the situation changes, but one thing is constant: My ex-boyfriend is in it. Let’s call him “Mark.” "Mark" and I dated for a little over a year from the spring semester of my senior year of high school through the spring semester of my freshman year of college. He was a nice enough guy, and I’d love to say we split amicably, but that would be a lie. The truth is I was a real bitch towards the end of the relationship (I, unfortunately, use to practice the “let’s see if I can be mean enough for him to dump me” school of breaking up), and we were never really ever to remain friends after that. Anyway, these dreams are almost like vignettes. Like little snippets of scenes or something. I run into him at the grocery store, the mall, running various errands, what have you, and all we do is talk. About relationships: I'm getting married, and he just started dating someone last year. About grad school: I’m finishing up, he just started law school. About the weather, whatever. Random stuff. Nothing "too" serious.
Now, I feel like it must be noted that I have not seen nor spoken to “Mark” in almost four years (thanks to Facebook for keeping me informed on his livelihood. I’m a world-class creeper, but that’s beside the point). I think I dreamt about him once before, after we broke up but before I met John (“Mark” and I broke up in April 2006; John and I met in November 2006), and it was extremely similar to these dreams.
Whenever I have strange dreams like this, I turn to my trusty dream interpreter www.dreammoods.com. I have no idea how accurate Dream Moods is, but for my intents and purposes, it works. Join me, if you will, as I get some premium web therapy courtesy of the fine people behind Dream Moods.
In the case of my orthodonture, the kind folk at Dream Moods say:
“To dream that you have braces, indicates your brashness and critics of others. You should not be so quick to criticize. You need to stop talking too much and listen to what others have to say.”
Wow, what insight to my inner psyche! I’m a self-proclaimed judger of people. To make matters worse, I don’t really criticize people to his/her face, but rather talk about them behind their back. Perhaps my dreams are telling me to STFU and drop this bad habit before the wedding. I think this probably goes along with some items on my list. Namely being a better person.
In regards to my dream stalker, Dream Moods states:
“To dream that you are being stalked, indicates some difficulty or issue which you are not confronting. These problems are not going to go away just because you are ignoring them. If you are being stalked in real life, then this fear may be carried over into your dream state.”
I’m going to go ahead and say “Duh” on this one. I know exactly what “difficulty” they are talking about here. Sadly, I’m not sure how to confront it. Might be something one of my list items can accomplish. We’ll see.
And finally, my new dream friendship with the ex. Well, Dream Moods, what have you to say about this one:
“To see an old ex-boyfriend from childhood in your dream, refers to a freer, less encumbered relationship. The dream serves to bring you back to a time where the responsibilities of adulthood (or marriage) did not interfere with the spontaneity of romance. You need to recapture the excitement, freedom, and vitality of youth that is lacking in your present relationship. To dream that your ex-boyfriend is giving you advice about your current relationship, suggests that your unconscious is telling you not to repeat the same mistakes that you had made with this ex-boyfriend.”
OK, fair enough. John and I are dealing with very “adult” things right now. Marriage. Moving in together. Finding jobs. Finding a place to settle down. These are all heavy subjects. While I love John with all my heart, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to put aside some of this stuff every now and then and just enjoy our relationship. This can definitely be reflected in the list. In fact, I am hereby decreeing a “No Wedding Wednesday” for John and I. From now until June 11, 2011, Wednesdays will be off limits for wedding planning. No talking about it, no making any plans, no meeting or phone calls. However frozen yogurt and taking walks and watching cheesy movies is totally fair game :).
Anyone else have weird dreams pre-wedding? I can’t be the only one.
Switching over, briefly, I went on a very nice two-mile walk/run this morning in an attempt to start exercising again. I loved the walking part, hated the running part (I’m allergic), and other than a sore left foot (thanks to an old injury), it was really great. John asked for the P-90 (not P-90X, the X-less one) for his birthday so we can get in shape, together, and be totally smoking hot at the wedding. I’m actually really looking forward to it. Has anyone done P-90 before? What’s it like and can you really get “the banging bod” you want in 90 days? Inquiring minds want to know!
I’m not sure if it’s the stress of finishing grad school, anxiety over moving, or the strange food combinations I’ve been eating to get rid of food prior to the move or what, but every night I have the strangest dreams.
Some are down right terrifying. For instance, a couple weeks ago I dreamt it was a couple months before the wedding, and I had to get braces put on again (for my not IRL people, I had braces for almost five years when I was in middle/junior high/high school. It was not something worth repeating). And for some reason, I couldn’t get Invisalign or those clear braces; no, all dream me could think about was how terrible my wedding pictures were going to be: Me with a massive metal mouth (and rubber bands). I was crying about it in the dream, and I woke up crying about it in real life.
A few nights ago, I had an incredibly realistic dream where I was being stalked. I have no clue who this person was, but it was a really scary, extremely realistic dream. You know that feeling you get right after you watch a scary movie or TV show, when you are getting ready for bed, and even though you know it’s highly unlikely, you can’t help but feel something is watching you? THAT’S THE FEELING I HAD THE ENTIRE DREAM. And it woke me up at three am, too afraid to go back to sleep and find out what dream stalker wanted from dream me.
I’ve also been having a dream, it’s not really “recurring” because the situation changes, but one thing is constant: My ex-boyfriend is in it. Let’s call him “Mark.” "Mark" and I dated for a little over a year from the spring semester of my senior year of high school through the spring semester of my freshman year of college. He was a nice enough guy, and I’d love to say we split amicably, but that would be a lie. The truth is I was a real bitch towards the end of the relationship (I, unfortunately, use to practice the “let’s see if I can be mean enough for him to dump me” school of breaking up), and we were never really ever to remain friends after that. Anyway, these dreams are almost like vignettes. Like little snippets of scenes or something. I run into him at the grocery store, the mall, running various errands, what have you, and all we do is talk. About relationships: I'm getting married, and he just started dating someone last year. About grad school: I’m finishing up, he just started law school. About the weather, whatever. Random stuff. Nothing "too" serious.
Now, I feel like it must be noted that I have not seen nor spoken to “Mark” in almost four years (thanks to Facebook for keeping me informed on his livelihood. I’m a world-class creeper, but that’s beside the point). I think I dreamt about him once before, after we broke up but before I met John (“Mark” and I broke up in April 2006; John and I met in November 2006), and it was extremely similar to these dreams.
Whenever I have strange dreams like this, I turn to my trusty dream interpreter www.dreammoods.com. I have no idea how accurate Dream Moods is, but for my intents and purposes, it works. Join me, if you will, as I get some premium web therapy courtesy of the fine people behind Dream Moods.
In the case of my orthodonture, the kind folk at Dream Moods say:
“To dream that you have braces, indicates your brashness and critics of others. You should not be so quick to criticize. You need to stop talking too much and listen to what others have to say.”
Wow, what insight to my inner psyche! I’m a self-proclaimed judger of people. To make matters worse, I don’t really criticize people to his/her face, but rather talk about them behind their back. Perhaps my dreams are telling me to STFU and drop this bad habit before the wedding. I think this probably goes along with some items on my list. Namely being a better person.
In regards to my dream stalker, Dream Moods states:
“To dream that you are being stalked, indicates some difficulty or issue which you are not confronting. These problems are not going to go away just because you are ignoring them. If you are being stalked in real life, then this fear may be carried over into your dream state.”
I’m going to go ahead and say “Duh” on this one. I know exactly what “difficulty” they are talking about here. Sadly, I’m not sure how to confront it. Might be something one of my list items can accomplish. We’ll see.
And finally, my new dream friendship with the ex. Well, Dream Moods, what have you to say about this one:
“To see an old ex-boyfriend from childhood in your dream, refers to a freer, less encumbered relationship. The dream serves to bring you back to a time where the responsibilities of adulthood (or marriage) did not interfere with the spontaneity of romance. You need to recapture the excitement, freedom, and vitality of youth that is lacking in your present relationship. To dream that your ex-boyfriend is giving you advice about your current relationship, suggests that your unconscious is telling you not to repeat the same mistakes that you had made with this ex-boyfriend.”
OK, fair enough. John and I are dealing with very “adult” things right now. Marriage. Moving in together. Finding jobs. Finding a place to settle down. These are all heavy subjects. While I love John with all my heart, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to put aside some of this stuff every now and then and just enjoy our relationship. This can definitely be reflected in the list. In fact, I am hereby decreeing a “No Wedding Wednesday” for John and I. From now until June 11, 2011, Wednesdays will be off limits for wedding planning. No talking about it, no making any plans, no meeting or phone calls. However frozen yogurt and taking walks and watching cheesy movies is totally fair game :).
Anyone else have weird dreams pre-wedding? I can’t be the only one.
Switching over, briefly, I went on a very nice two-mile walk/run this morning in an attempt to start exercising again. I loved the walking part, hated the running part (I’m allergic), and other than a sore left foot (thanks to an old injury), it was really great. John asked for the P-90 (not P-90X, the X-less one) for his birthday so we can get in shape, together, and be totally smoking hot at the wedding. I’m actually really looking forward to it. Has anyone done P-90 before? What’s it like and can you really get “the banging bod” you want in 90 days? Inquiring minds want to know!
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Checking in
I know I promised an addendum to my previous post about lessons learned, and I totally intend on delivering, but I'm moving in a week. I'm also finishing up my LAST CLASS EVER.
Needless to say, life is chaotic right now.
I'm also in a sort of lull as it goes for both wedding planning and the list. I'm hoping it will pick back up once I'm back home (I'm sure it will), so posts will pick back up then.
Needless to say, life is chaotic right now.
I'm also in a sort of lull as it goes for both wedding planning and the list. I'm hoping it will pick back up once I'm back home (I'm sure it will), so posts will pick back up then.
Friday, July 23, 2010
A fear conquered
Short post today, because it's Friday, and I have to write MY LAST PAPER EVER (can't tell you how good that felt to type)!
Remember that post from a few weeks ago, the one where I waxed poetic about being afraid of the dark?
Well, I didn't conquer my fear of the dark, but I did conquer another fear.
Last night, I was home alone. Usually, when I'm by myself, I don't sleep well, if at all. I usually end up staying up until the sun starts to rise, and then I'll doze for a little while. This isn't a healthy habit, especially since I'm marrying a pilot, who will have to be away from home from time to time (duh).
Last night I was home by myself, and in stead of allowing myself to get lost in "what ifs" and freaking myself out, at midnight, I turned the TV off, rolled over, thought "happy thoughts" (as my mother used to tell me to do when I had a bad dream), and went to sleep.
I woke up this morning at 8:30, having slept the entire night (except for a minute when I woke up around 3 am, but that doesn't count since I fell right back to sleep).
I'm not sure if it was tough love, or exhaustion, that drove me to it, but it's reassuring. After the last fiasco trying to conquer a fear (where, if you recall, I didn't sleep. At all), it was nice to feel like I have some control over my precocious, overactive psyche.
Finally, if you have a few minutes and you want to see the cutest wedding cuppie-cake ever, check out The Knotty Bride's entry from yesterday (the entry itself deals with a heavy topic, but the cuppie-cake is to die for).
Remember that post from a few weeks ago, the one where I waxed poetic about being afraid of the dark?
Well, I didn't conquer my fear of the dark, but I did conquer another fear.
Last night, I was home alone. Usually, when I'm by myself, I don't sleep well, if at all. I usually end up staying up until the sun starts to rise, and then I'll doze for a little while. This isn't a healthy habit, especially since I'm marrying a pilot, who will have to be away from home from time to time (duh).
Last night I was home by myself, and in stead of allowing myself to get lost in "what ifs" and freaking myself out, at midnight, I turned the TV off, rolled over, thought "happy thoughts" (as my mother used to tell me to do when I had a bad dream), and went to sleep.
I woke up this morning at 8:30, having slept the entire night (except for a minute when I woke up around 3 am, but that doesn't count since I fell right back to sleep).
I'm not sure if it was tough love, or exhaustion, that drove me to it, but it's reassuring. After the last fiasco trying to conquer a fear (where, if you recall, I didn't sleep. At all), it was nice to feel like I have some control over my precocious, overactive psyche.
Finally, if you have a few minutes and you want to see the cutest wedding cuppie-cake ever, check out The Knotty Bride's entry from yesterday (the entry itself deals with a heavy topic, but the cuppie-cake is to die for).
Monday, July 19, 2010
(belated) 11 months to go!/What I've learned so far
A couple weeks ago marked 11 months to go till the wedding. So far, I've (pretty much) enjoyed the wedding planning process (I'll probably feel differently in a few months). But, as with everything, this is a learning process, and there are a few things I've learned thus far. Part one of which is below. And it's about saving money.
Things I've learned about weddings (and how to save money while planning them) (so far)
1. If you can, have your wedding in the afternoon. Seriously, afternoon weddings cost FAR LESS than evening weddings. My reception location cut 50% of the rental fee (holy shit!) AND took $2 off per person. Let's say you are having 150 people at your wedding. That's $300 still in your pocket, now free to allocate to other things. (Also, we're saving $500 on the rental fee, just for having an afternoon reception.)
2. Never underestimate the power of people you are totally, totally friends with (or really people you kind of know or at one point knew). Now, I feel the need to clarify this, because there are certain people I mean, and there are certain people I really DO NOT mean.
Say you have a high school acquaintance who now owns a bakery/florist shop. Given they have good references/portfolios, you should definitely consider using this contact. Why? Because it's highly likely they will cut you a discount. Exhibit A: We've done business in the past with the photographer we're using (he did my brother's wedding, and he does all photography for my dad's Mardi Gras krewe). As such, I know he does an amazing job, and also, he cut us a 20% discount. On a photography bill of $2,000, that's $400 in the bank.
(If you're not keeping tabs or are bad at math, that's $1,200 saved.)
**Warning: I'm going to go on a bit of a soap box here. It's kind of an unrelated tangent, but something I firmly believe. Now, for instance, say your BFF has a photography/florist/bakery business on the side, and she/he totally wants you to use her. I would very much consider NOT using this friend. For obvious reasons, this could be a set up for disaster. Firstly, this is your wedding, and unless you have a very tight budget, springing for professionals is probably in your best interest. Professionals do these sorts of things for a living, as opposed to your friend, who might want to bake/photograph/arrange flowers professionally one day, but right now has to do it out of their house/apartment/condo.
I'm not saying your friend won't do as good of a job as a professional, but may I suggest to think about what you will do/think/feel if your friend delivers something subpar. To your wedding. It may not wreck your friendship, but you're lying to yourself if you don't think it won't mar it in some way.
If you really want them to contribute in some way, have them take your engagement shots, make a cake/decorate for the rehearsal dinner, etc. This way they get to be a part of your big day, but you don't have to worry as much. Win-win.
**End of tangent**
3. The last money related thing: Don't waste your money on those planners they sell in bookstores. Have you been to the wedding section at a bookstore recently? Half of the inventory is those wedding planners, and they sell for $30-$40 a pop. Ridiculous. Save your money. I bought a binder (pink, one of my colors) from Target for $3.50, and some fun dividers for $2.00. Bam! A wedding organizer/planner for less than $6.
I know what you are all thinking, "But you're missing out on all that info in those organizers!" I hate to break it to you, but alllllll of that info (plus more) is one simple Google search away. Seriously. Save your money. Get a manicure instead.
For those of you have already planned a wedding, what are some of your $$$ saving tips for us brides-to-be looking to keep some cash in the bank?
That's it for part one! Part two will go live sometime later this week, and it'll be all about what I've learned thus far about saving your sanity, equally important to saving money, sometimes more so! Also: A message in a bottle soon to be sent and hobbies to be explored. See you soon!
Things I've learned about weddings (and how to save money while planning them) (so far)
1. If you can, have your wedding in the afternoon. Seriously, afternoon weddings cost FAR LESS than evening weddings. My reception location cut 50% of the rental fee (holy shit!) AND took $2 off per person. Let's say you are having 150 people at your wedding. That's $300 still in your pocket, now free to allocate to other things. (Also, we're saving $500 on the rental fee, just for having an afternoon reception.)
2. Never underestimate the power of people you are totally, totally friends with (or really people you kind of know or at one point knew). Now, I feel the need to clarify this, because there are certain people I mean, and there are certain people I really DO NOT mean.
Say you have a high school acquaintance who now owns a bakery/florist shop. Given they have good references/portfolios, you should definitely consider using this contact. Why? Because it's highly likely they will cut you a discount. Exhibit A: We've done business in the past with the photographer we're using (he did my brother's wedding, and he does all photography for my dad's Mardi Gras krewe). As such, I know he does an amazing job, and also, he cut us a 20% discount. On a photography bill of $2,000, that's $400 in the bank.
(If you're not keeping tabs or are bad at math, that's $1,200 saved.)
**Warning: I'm going to go on a bit of a soap box here. It's kind of an unrelated tangent, but something I firmly believe. Now, for instance, say your BFF has a photography/florist/bakery business on the side, and she/he totally wants you to use her. I would very much consider NOT using this friend. For obvious reasons, this could be a set up for disaster. Firstly, this is your wedding, and unless you have a very tight budget, springing for professionals is probably in your best interest. Professionals do these sorts of things for a living, as opposed to your friend, who might want to bake/photograph/arrange flowers professionally one day, but right now has to do it out of their house/apartment/condo.
I'm not saying your friend won't do as good of a job as a professional, but may I suggest to think about what you will do/think/feel if your friend delivers something subpar. To your wedding. It may not wreck your friendship, but you're lying to yourself if you don't think it won't mar it in some way.
If you really want them to contribute in some way, have them take your engagement shots, make a cake/decorate for the rehearsal dinner, etc. This way they get to be a part of your big day, but you don't have to worry as much. Win-win.
**End of tangent**
3. The last money related thing: Don't waste your money on those planners they sell in bookstores. Have you been to the wedding section at a bookstore recently? Half of the inventory is those wedding planners, and they sell for $30-$40 a pop. Ridiculous. Save your money. I bought a binder (pink, one of my colors) from Target for $3.50, and some fun dividers for $2.00. Bam! A wedding organizer/planner for less than $6.
I know what you are all thinking, "But you're missing out on all that info in those organizers!" I hate to break it to you, but alllllll of that info (plus more) is one simple Google search away. Seriously. Save your money. Get a manicure instead.
For those of you have already planned a wedding, what are some of your $$$ saving tips for us brides-to-be looking to keep some cash in the bank?
That's it for part one! Part two will go live sometime later this week, and it'll be all about what I've learned thus far about saving your sanity, equally important to saving money, sometimes more so! Also: A message in a bottle soon to be sent and hobbies to be explored. See you soon!
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
#23
#23 Eat in a restaurant by myself
For some reason, I always thought this would be really embarrassing. Like, everyone around would think, "Look at her! Does she have no friends? Does no one love her? Why is she eating all by herself?" I guess I worry about this because, sadly, this is was I think when I see people eating by themselves in a restaurant. Also, I am definitely the type to worry about what people think of me. I attribute this mostly to the way I was brought up, but it has also been reinforced by my studies/work in public relations, which is ALL ABOUT knowing, caring and influencing WHAT OTHER PEOPLE think about YOU (excessive use of caps in that sentence? Yea or nay?). Anyway, I was legitimately nervous when I went into the restaurant after class today.
I specifically chose a restaurant that didn't look to crowded, specifically at a time in between meals. I went in around 11:30 or so, after my class let out early.
I approached the hostess stand, where a perky 20 something girl who puts too much effort into her job greeted me, "Hi! How many today?"
"Just me," I told her hesitantly.
Now, at this point, I'm not sure what I was expecting, a scoff, maybe. Perhaps a sneer. Yes, I realize this would have been bad business on her part, and I'm sure a lot of people go into this particular restaurant for lunch alone, but this is the way my mind works. But she just continued smiling, grabbed service for one, and asked if there was anywhere in particular I wanted to sit. (Ya'll, it was pretty much deserted. Literally me and two other tables.) I chose a table by a window, where I could sit close to a wall, so I could see everything around me and outside (I really, really, really enjoy people watching).
OK, so one challenge down, now it was time to face the waiter. As luck would have it, I was waited on by a pretty attractive guy (Yippee, what everyone wants, to be judged by a good looking member of the opposite sex!), who actually turned out to be gay, so, sweet relief, I guess. He asked if I wanted something to drink. I ordered an iced tea. When he came back, I ordered food, and he left. He was very nice, very observant, and he made no attempt to make small talk, which was perfectly OK by me because I hate small talk with a passion.
I ended up taking out the notebook I carry around with me to brainstorm in, write things down, etc. You could call it a "writing notebook" or if you really wanted, a "journal" and spent a blissfully quiet, uninterrupted hour writing.
No one asked why I was alone. No one cared I was alone. It was fantastic. When I was done, I left the waiter a nice tip for A) being a good server and B) leaving me alone.
So, I guess I can cross this one off as a success. I think I might this a regular thing. There is definitely something to be said for it!
For some reason, I always thought this would be really embarrassing. Like, everyone around would think, "Look at her! Does she have no friends? Does no one love her? Why is she eating all by herself?" I guess I worry about this because, sadly, this is was I think when I see people eating by themselves in a restaurant. Also, I am definitely the type to worry about what people think of me. I attribute this mostly to the way I was brought up, but it has also been reinforced by my studies/work in public relations, which is ALL ABOUT knowing, caring and influencing WHAT OTHER PEOPLE think about YOU (excessive use of caps in that sentence? Yea or nay?). Anyway, I was legitimately nervous when I went into the restaurant after class today.
I specifically chose a restaurant that didn't look to crowded, specifically at a time in between meals. I went in around 11:30 or so, after my class let out early.
I approached the hostess stand, where a perky 20 something girl who puts too much effort into her job greeted me, "Hi! How many today?"
"Just me," I told her hesitantly.
Now, at this point, I'm not sure what I was expecting, a scoff, maybe. Perhaps a sneer. Yes, I realize this would have been bad business on her part, and I'm sure a lot of people go into this particular restaurant for lunch alone, but this is the way my mind works. But she just continued smiling, grabbed service for one, and asked if there was anywhere in particular I wanted to sit. (Ya'll, it was pretty much deserted. Literally me and two other tables.) I chose a table by a window, where I could sit close to a wall, so I could see everything around me and outside (I really, really, really enjoy people watching).
OK, so one challenge down, now it was time to face the waiter. As luck would have it, I was waited on by a pretty attractive guy (Yippee, what everyone wants, to be judged by a good looking member of the opposite sex!), who actually turned out to be gay, so, sweet relief, I guess. He asked if I wanted something to drink. I ordered an iced tea. When he came back, I ordered food, and he left. He was very nice, very observant, and he made no attempt to make small talk, which was perfectly OK by me because I hate small talk with a passion.
I ended up taking out the notebook I carry around with me to brainstorm in, write things down, etc. You could call it a "writing notebook" or if you really wanted, a "journal" and spent a blissfully quiet, uninterrupted hour writing.
No one asked why I was alone. No one cared I was alone. It was fantastic. When I was done, I left the waiter a nice tip for A) being a good server and B) leaving me alone.
So, I guess I can cross this one off as a success. I think I might this a regular thing. There is definitely something to be said for it!
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Checking in
I know some people say "no news is good news" but that's not really the case for blogs.
There hasn't been much action on the list lately, and I ran out of origami paper (almost 100 cranes down!) so I'm momentarily paused on that, but I hate to let weeks lapse between entries, so here I am.
Anyhoo, I've started my second summer session of classes, and I only have one class, so I haven't been super busy with school, but I have begun packing up my stuff for the big move home, and wedding planning is in full swing now (we have an officiant, yay for that!), so those things are keeping me pretty busy. Not that it's really any excuse. There are tons of things on the list I could be doing. I'm hoping to accomplish a few in the next week (or so), like:
23. Eat in a restaurant by myself
26. Go to NYC
41. Send a message in a bottle
In regards to #41, writer's block is attacking on this oh-so-important task. What would you say?
There hasn't been much action on the list lately, and I ran out of origami paper (almost 100 cranes down!) so I'm momentarily paused on that, but I hate to let weeks lapse between entries, so here I am.
Anyhoo, I've started my second summer session of classes, and I only have one class, so I haven't been super busy with school, but I have begun packing up my stuff for the big move home, and wedding planning is in full swing now (we have an officiant, yay for that!), so those things are keeping me pretty busy. Not that it's really any excuse. There are tons of things on the list I could be doing. I'm hoping to accomplish a few in the next week (or so), like:
23. Eat in a restaurant by myself
26. Go to NYC
41. Send a message in a bottle
In regards to #41, writer's block is attacking on this oh-so-important task. What would you say?
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Fears
When I was little, I had to be put to bed with the light on. As in, whoever was tucking me (E.G. Mom) that night left my bedroom light on, and then either my mom or dad, or if they could be persuaded, one of my brothers, turned the light off after I had fallen asleep. I also had three nightlights in my room, and a window that faced the street and a streetlamp. Clearly, for those who like to sleep in the complete dark, my childhood room was not for you.
In addition to this, I would ONLY be tucked in by my mother, because only she knew how to do it "right". My mom would spray what she called "sweet dream spray", which was really perfume she used to wear (I can't remember if she bought an extra bottle, or just used one she didn't care for), all around my room. She would then sing me a song. It was the same song, actually, every night. I don't know the name, it was a lullaby of some sort. However, when I Googled the lyrics, it was included in a fan fiction about Alvin & the Chipmunks. Random.
Anyhoo, all of this was done because I had two things: An extreme fear of the dark (could you tell?) and an over reactive imagination. I used to honestly believe all of the following: An evil wizard lived under my bed, mean gorillas had a habitat in my closet, and a vampire perched in the tree outside my window. Naturally, these things only manifested themselves at night. Some kids have imaginary friends, I was so prone to fear, I had imaginary villains in my room.
This is somewhat embarrassing, but I slept with a nightlight well into high school. The only reason I stopped was because, well, it was high school, I had friends sleeping over, and it was just plain humiliating to sleep with a night light when you were old enough to drive a car. But my fear of the dark has never gone away.
To this day, the number one thing I'm scared of is the dark. Everything is scary in the dark. When I'm getting ready to go to bed, I have to turn off lights in reverse order, meaning, I work my way from one side to the other, so that a light is ALWAYS on somewhere in the house. In the house I'm in currently, once all the lights are off downstairs, I practically sprint upstairs. Where the lights are on. If I have to get up to go the bathroom in the middle of the night, all lights go on again.
This is pathetic. I know.
What does this have to do with the list? A lot. #4 on the list is "conquer my fears." The dark being the biggest.
This weekend, I made an attempt to conquer my fear of the dark.
I failed.
I was home alone this weekend, and my already strong fears intensify when I'm by myself. I feel extremely vulnerable, weak, and for some reason, more obvious to others. Like everyone passing by knows I'm alone and scared. What a perfect time, then, I thought, to try to spend some time alone. In the dark. As in by myself.
I tried, I really did, but irrational fear won every time I tried. I would stand next to the light switch, and all I could do was think about all the things that might happen if I were to just hang around in the dark. "A serial killer could get me!" As highly unlikely as this is, it's the thing I'm most afraid of "getting me" in the dark. "Someone could break in!" Also unlikely, since the house has an alarm system. "There could be monsters in the closet!" Okay, I don't really think that one, but I just needed to throw it out there to show you how ludicrous these thoughts are. As a result of freaking myself even more, I hardly slept all weekend.
I'm thinking I need to start with a different fear, one that is less...established. Like maybe snakes. Or clowns.
What are some of your irrational fears? What do you do to calm them?
In addition to this, I would ONLY be tucked in by my mother, because only she knew how to do it "right". My mom would spray what she called "sweet dream spray", which was really perfume she used to wear (I can't remember if she bought an extra bottle, or just used one she didn't care for), all around my room. She would then sing me a song. It was the same song, actually, every night. I don't know the name, it was a lullaby of some sort. However, when I Googled the lyrics, it was included in a fan fiction about Alvin & the Chipmunks. Random.
Anyhoo, all of this was done because I had two things: An extreme fear of the dark (could you tell?) and an over reactive imagination. I used to honestly believe all of the following: An evil wizard lived under my bed, mean gorillas had a habitat in my closet, and a vampire perched in the tree outside my window. Naturally, these things only manifested themselves at night. Some kids have imaginary friends, I was so prone to fear, I had imaginary villains in my room.
This is somewhat embarrassing, but I slept with a nightlight well into high school. The only reason I stopped was because, well, it was high school, I had friends sleeping over, and it was just plain humiliating to sleep with a night light when you were old enough to drive a car. But my fear of the dark has never gone away.
To this day, the number one thing I'm scared of is the dark. Everything is scary in the dark. When I'm getting ready to go to bed, I have to turn off lights in reverse order, meaning, I work my way from one side to the other, so that a light is ALWAYS on somewhere in the house. In the house I'm in currently, once all the lights are off downstairs, I practically sprint upstairs. Where the lights are on. If I have to get up to go the bathroom in the middle of the night, all lights go on again.
This is pathetic. I know.
What does this have to do with the list? A lot. #4 on the list is "conquer my fears." The dark being the biggest.
This weekend, I made an attempt to conquer my fear of the dark.
I failed.
I was home alone this weekend, and my already strong fears intensify when I'm by myself. I feel extremely vulnerable, weak, and for some reason, more obvious to others. Like everyone passing by knows I'm alone and scared. What a perfect time, then, I thought, to try to spend some time alone. In the dark. As in by myself.
I tried, I really did, but irrational fear won every time I tried. I would stand next to the light switch, and all I could do was think about all the things that might happen if I were to just hang around in the dark. "A serial killer could get me!" As highly unlikely as this is, it's the thing I'm most afraid of "getting me" in the dark. "Someone could break in!" Also unlikely, since the house has an alarm system. "There could be monsters in the closet!" Okay, I don't really think that one, but I just needed to throw it out there to show you how ludicrous these thoughts are. As a result of freaking myself even more, I hardly slept all weekend.
I'm thinking I need to start with a different fear, one that is less...established. Like maybe snakes. Or clowns.
What are some of your irrational fears? What do you do to calm them?
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Crane count
Since my origami paper came in, I have been busily folding away. Things started out a little rough, with my first crane looking pretty sad, but I'm happy to report things are going much better. As of five minutes ago, I've folded 32 cranes. So, 968 to go.
This morning the cranes and I had a photo shoot. Here is a sampling of their internet debut:
More can be seen on my flikr page.
Kudos: I have to give props to this guy (RobH0629), whose excellent video taught me how to fold cranes. Seriously, if you are at all interested in origami, subscribe to him on Youtube.
This morning the cranes and I had a photo shoot. Here is a sampling of their internet debut:
More can be seen on my flikr page.
Kudos: I have to give props to this guy (RobH0629), whose excellent video taught me how to fold cranes. Seriously, if you are at all interested in origami, subscribe to him on Youtube.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Some late afternoon linkage
If you're bored and looking for something to do, may I suggest checking out The Wedding Chicks today? They're featuring some pretty cool wedding stationary (actually, it's pretty cool regardless of your marital status).
You can even design your very own nautical themes monogram, complete with nifty anchor.
Everything featured today is courtesy of Posh Paperie, which I am now obsessed with. Anyway, thought I'd share. My origami paper came in, so I am currently learning how to fold paper cranes. It's friggin' hard, ya'll. 1 down, 999 to go!
You can even design your very own nautical themes monogram, complete with nifty anchor.
Everything featured today is courtesy of Posh Paperie, which I am now obsessed with. Anyway, thought I'd share. My origami paper came in, so I am currently learning how to fold paper cranes. It's friggin' hard, ya'll. 1 down, 999 to go!
One month anniversary
Saturday will mark one whole month of blogging here at Secret Life of a Bride-to-Be. Oh, how time flies!
Since I intend on spending my weekend between summer session 1 and summer session 2 doing absolutely nothing but laying out and reading smut novels, I thought I would get my monthly update out of the way now.
Every month (on the 27th), I will provide you, dear readers, with an update about where I stand in this adventure, what I have left, what I'm planning, how many days till the wedding, and any pearls of wisdom I've learned, or how/if these items have changed me. Here is our first installment:
Items completed: 4
Items to go: 51
Items started: 2
Days till the wedding: 352 (Good God, that seems like a lot. I guess it is.)
The items I've completed are #16, buy something completely frivolous, #18, make a discovery, #21, actually keep in touch with people far away from me, and #48 kick my caffeine habit (don't forget, you can keep up with the whole list here).
Of these four items, kicking the caffeine habit has been the hardest by a long shot. I miss my caramel macchiatos at Starbucks! I miss doing crossword puzzles with a cup of joe. Tea just isn't the same. I've realized that it wasn't so much the caffeine I was addicted to as it was the gentle routine of indulging in these items everyday. I associate my mornings with the taste of an Americano. My afternoons were caramel macchiatos. My weekends were regular coffee with milk and sugar at home. It's a sad state of affairs in my world, folks. Yes, I do feel better without all the caffeine in my system, but I miss it's smooth, creamy texture and the comfort I always got from drinking it. Everyday has been a test of my will power with this one. Some days are better than others. I do consider the habit kicked, but I don't think I'll ever get over losing coffee.
(In the interest of full disclosure, I highly suspect a relapse will occur after the wedding. Just saying.)
So far, I've learned a few things about myself. The biggest realization being about my athletic ability (or lack there of). Also of note, my re-found love for phone convos with the BFFS.
I've had a lot of fun this past month. It's going to continue, too, because the circus is comin' to Plymouth soon, and guess who's gonna go? Also, I ordered origami paper (would you believe no craft stores around here carried it? Unfreakingbelievable) on Amazon, so I'm sure some excellent pictures of my attempt to fold cranes will be forthcoming. At last count, I have almost 40 cranes to make up for since I was supposed to start this on June 11. Oops.
I just want to say thanks for reading thus far, and I hope you've all enjoyed this as much as I have been. I can't wait to see where else this takes me.
Since I intend on spending my weekend between summer session 1 and summer session 2 doing absolutely nothing but laying out and reading smut novels, I thought I would get my monthly update out of the way now.
Every month (on the 27th), I will provide you, dear readers, with an update about where I stand in this adventure, what I have left, what I'm planning, how many days till the wedding, and any pearls of wisdom I've learned, or how/if these items have changed me. Here is our first installment:
Items completed: 4
Items to go: 51
Items started: 2
Days till the wedding: 352 (Good God, that seems like a lot. I guess it is.)
The items I've completed are #16, buy something completely frivolous, #18, make a discovery, #21, actually keep in touch with people far away from me, and #48 kick my caffeine habit (don't forget, you can keep up with the whole list here).
Of these four items, kicking the caffeine habit has been the hardest by a long shot. I miss my caramel macchiatos at Starbucks! I miss doing crossword puzzles with a cup of joe. Tea just isn't the same. I've realized that it wasn't so much the caffeine I was addicted to as it was the gentle routine of indulging in these items everyday. I associate my mornings with the taste of an Americano. My afternoons were caramel macchiatos. My weekends were regular coffee with milk and sugar at home. It's a sad state of affairs in my world, folks. Yes, I do feel better without all the caffeine in my system, but I miss it's smooth, creamy texture and the comfort I always got from drinking it. Everyday has been a test of my will power with this one. Some days are better than others. I do consider the habit kicked, but I don't think I'll ever get over losing coffee.
(In the interest of full disclosure, I highly suspect a relapse will occur after the wedding. Just saying.)
So far, I've learned a few things about myself. The biggest realization being about my athletic ability (or lack there of). Also of note, my re-found love for phone convos with the BFFS.
I've had a lot of fun this past month. It's going to continue, too, because the circus is comin' to Plymouth soon, and guess who's gonna go? Also, I ordered origami paper (would you believe no craft stores around here carried it? Unfreakingbelievable) on Amazon, so I'm sure some excellent pictures of my attempt to fold cranes will be forthcoming. At last count, I have almost 40 cranes to make up for since I was supposed to start this on June 11. Oops.
I just want to say thanks for reading thus far, and I hope you've all enjoyed this as much as I have been. I can't wait to see where else this takes me.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Writing about writing
(This is a somewhat unrelated post, as it's not really about the list, but kind of is, at the same time.)
For most, if not all, of my life, I've considered myself a writer. I've definitely always enjoyed writing, and it's certainly something I have a knack for, but for some reason, it wasn't until recently that I considered it a career choice.
For those who are unaware, I majored in Mass Communication at my undergrad, and I'm currently in what seems to be the endless maze that is grad is, attempting to survive and get my master's in public relations. Counting my academic years, I've been in the same "industry" for five years, yet I have trouble visualizing myself actually being a PR consultant or manager or what have you.
When people ask me, "So, Katy, what are you going to do after grad school?" I'm at a loss at what to tell them, because I honestly don't know. I can't even say for certain if there is a certain type of PR I want to do. I've found that this upsets even the most mild mannered of people. For some reason, I'm expected to just know.
"Well, what do you like to do?" They'll ask next.
"I like to write." I'll answer. Then these well-meaning people, I'm sure, will attempt to spout off a few things that kind of involve writing, but not really.
I jumped into my major feet first without really knowing what it was. From a distance, it seemed exciting, even a little glamorous. By the time I figured out it was mostly anything but either (most days), I was too deep in the pool to get out. (Or too lazy to change my major. Your pick.) Now, I'm stuck in it, at least for the time being, because I've segmented myself so much it will probably be impossible for me to get a job doing anything but PR. At least for a while.
This is probably why I've been such an avid blogging advocate for so long. Blogging is a release. I can write about anything I want in any way I want. I don't have to conform to templates and outlines and AP style. It's also why I'll never blog about my career. I can't think of anything interesting to say about it that hasn't already been said by someone more passionate about PR than I. I can, however, blog about me, my life, my experiences, and my thoughts on other matters. Like, for instance, becoming a "real" writer.
After years of education, I'm finally seeing myself as someone who could, one day, be a writer. That's why #8, write a children's book, is on the list. Of all the things I want to write, children's books are number one on the list (tied with short stories. I love writing short stories). I've always felt I would be a good kid's book author. I love kids, enjoy YA literature, and I think characters would be so more fun to explore.
The other day I started research on my book (yes, it needs some research). I began developing my main character, and I must say, I'm in love with the little bugger. He's (it's a he) a mix of both my nephews, a touch of what I think John was like as a child, with a little nonsense thrown in for taste. I can't wait to see what adventures we go on together. Hopefully he'll make a "real" writer out of me :).
For most, if not all, of my life, I've considered myself a writer. I've definitely always enjoyed writing, and it's certainly something I have a knack for, but for some reason, it wasn't until recently that I considered it a career choice.
For those who are unaware, I majored in Mass Communication at my undergrad, and I'm currently in what seems to be the endless maze that is grad is, attempting to survive and get my master's in public relations. Counting my academic years, I've been in the same "industry" for five years, yet I have trouble visualizing myself actually being a PR consultant or manager or what have you.
When people ask me, "So, Katy, what are you going to do after grad school?" I'm at a loss at what to tell them, because I honestly don't know. I can't even say for certain if there is a certain type of PR I want to do. I've found that this upsets even the most mild mannered of people. For some reason, I'm expected to just know.
"Well, what do you like to do?" They'll ask next.
"I like to write." I'll answer. Then these well-meaning people, I'm sure, will attempt to spout off a few things that kind of involve writing, but not really.
I jumped into my major feet first without really knowing what it was. From a distance, it seemed exciting, even a little glamorous. By the time I figured out it was mostly anything but either (most days), I was too deep in the pool to get out. (Or too lazy to change my major. Your pick.) Now, I'm stuck in it, at least for the time being, because I've segmented myself so much it will probably be impossible for me to get a job doing anything but PR. At least for a while.
This is probably why I've been such an avid blogging advocate for so long. Blogging is a release. I can write about anything I want in any way I want. I don't have to conform to templates and outlines and AP style. It's also why I'll never blog about my career. I can't think of anything interesting to say about it that hasn't already been said by someone more passionate about PR than I. I can, however, blog about me, my life, my experiences, and my thoughts on other matters. Like, for instance, becoming a "real" writer.
After years of education, I'm finally seeing myself as someone who could, one day, be a writer. That's why #8, write a children's book, is on the list. Of all the things I want to write, children's books are number one on the list (tied with short stories. I love writing short stories). I've always felt I would be a good kid's book author. I love kids, enjoy YA literature, and I think characters would be so more fun to explore.
The other day I started research on my book (yes, it needs some research). I began developing my main character, and I must say, I'm in love with the little bugger. He's (it's a he) a mix of both my nephews, a touch of what I think John was like as a child, with a little nonsense thrown in for taste. I can't wait to see what adventures we go on together. Hopefully he'll make a "real" writer out of me :).
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Bridal Bargains: A review
I know I said I wasn't going to use this blog as "advice" for wedding planning, but, hey, like I said in my parameters post, sometimes rules are meant to be broken.
I just finished reading Bridal Bargains (9th ed) by Denise and Alan Fields. Let me just say, I'm going to classify this as a "must read" for all people planning a wedding, planning to plan a wedding or just plain interesting in weddings and the wedding industry.
The book is separated into two main sections: Your wedding and Your reception. Within those sections are chapters in apparel (this is the scariest section, be forewarned), ceremony sites, flowers, cake, music, invitations, reception sites, catering, photography, rings, transportation, consultants, registries, honeymoons...the list goes on. In each chapter, you are given TONS of information.
What I like about the book is how the authors don't just tell you "this is what you need to do", but they tell you how to do it, why you should be doing it, and what questions you should be asking. In addition, they also explain why you should be asking these questions. For a lot of brides, it's really easy to get caught up in the hype of the wedding checklists and time lines provided by most wedding websites (*cough* theknot.com *coughcough*). I always look at them and say, "Well, that's great and all, I know I'm supposed to buy flowers, but I don't know how to do this!" And you know if you go to a florist/baker/stationer/seamstress/etc, God only knows what kind of biased, wedding mark-up information you are going to get.
The authors also describe what it is you are buying, which is nice, because a lot of wedding planning and money goes to items that are intangible for quite some time, like the reception space, photography, etc. Eventually, all these items yield some sort of tangible item (a room, food, pictures), but when you are plopping down hundreds or thousands of dollars on a "deposit", you really don't know what the heck you're getting.
Not only do the Fields do a good job at explaining all the various things that go into a wedding, but they also do a great job at troubleshooting. The main theme in the book is "People aren't perfect. Neither are weddings." (sound familiar?) Each chapter has "pitfalls to avoid" where they give you real life scenarios and what you can do should they happen to you. I found this section to be particularly helpful.
The authors describe this book as the book the wedding industry doesn't want you to read, and I believe it. It contains money saving tips, myths I'm sure wedding peeps DON'T want busted, and then they actually rank various vendors! They tell the good, the bad and the ugly about various vendors and sellers.
A word to the wise though, this book will scare the crap out of brides-to-be. When I put it down yesterday, I felt overwhelmed and a little like crying my eyes out. I would suggest taking it chapter by chapter as you need it. For instance, read the chapter on bridal apparel before you start shopping for the dress, then read the chapter on cakes before you do that. That way it's not so much, "THIS IS HOW THEY WILL RIP YOU OFF AND EVERYTHING THAT COULD EVER POSSIBLY GO WRONG OMG" all at once, but more like, "Hey, here are some things we think could help you before you belly-flop into the proverbial wedding pool."
For what it's worth, I highly recommend Bridal Bargains as an excellent resource in wedding planning. I enjoyed writing this review so much, I think I may review EVERY wedding book I read. Well, maybe not every, but the ones that deserve it.
Monday, June 21, 2010
#16
#16 Buy something completely frivolous
I love to shop, but I hate to spend money.
I suffer from tremendous guilt, a byproduct of being raised Catholic, which tends to raise my buyers remorse exponentially. I buy things I need, if I'm lucky I want them as well, but I never buy anything without reason. I might buy a new outfit, but I more than likely have an event I need to wear it too. If I do buy something I don't need (like a new purse or shoes), I agonize over it. Whether it be the item is $1 or $100, I sweat it for days. Sometimes longer.
On top of this I have issues with buying things full price, but that's another story for another day.
The day: Last Saturday.
The place: The Independence Mall in Kingston, Mass, or, better known as, "The Mall."
The store: Victoria's Secret, just in time for its semi-annual sale. I figure I have an Angel's Card, I may as well use it (side note: I only use this card twice a year. During the semi-annual sales).
The purpose: I need to buy a new strapless bra to take with me when I go wedding dress shopping. I ended up getting sidetracked by this:
It's a bracelet. More importantly, it's completely badass. The rose on top opens, and it's perfume.
How cool is that? It's like a spy bracelet, but instead of containing a secret camera, it contains secret...perfume. Okay, that wasn't my best comparison ever, but you catch my drift.
(Actually, it reminds me of those rings that were popular when I was growing up. The ones that were shaped like hearts or stars or whatever and contained lip gloss. Does anyone else remember these? Or am I alone in a sea of nostalgia?)
When I saw this, I giggled. It was so cute and springy...and completely useless. I didn't let myself agonize over the fact that I really don't ever wear bracelets, I just threw it into my shopping bag and bought it. For me, this was a frivolous buy. But, as a friend of mine used to say, it is a little "happy." Or a little something that makes you feel good. It happys me. Every now and then, a little happy is a necessity in life.
I'm probably the least spontaneous person in the world. I'm also pretty uptight. I need to learn to let go sometimes. It's something I struggle with. This is addressed in a lot of ways in the list (pole dancing, hello), but I thought a little splurge was a nice way to wade into the bigger, less inhibition filled pool.
It's baby steps, people.
(And yes, before you ask, I bought a strapless bra too. And also, the bracelet was 75% off, but my inability to buy things for full price is a battle best fought another day.)
I love to shop, but I hate to spend money.
I suffer from tremendous guilt, a byproduct of being raised Catholic, which tends to raise my buyers remorse exponentially. I buy things I need, if I'm lucky I want them as well, but I never buy anything without reason. I might buy a new outfit, but I more than likely have an event I need to wear it too. If I do buy something I don't need (like a new purse or shoes), I agonize over it. Whether it be the item is $1 or $100, I sweat it for days. Sometimes longer.
On top of this I have issues with buying things full price, but that's another story for another day.
The day: Last Saturday.
The place: The Independence Mall in Kingston, Mass, or, better known as, "The Mall."
The store: Victoria's Secret, just in time for its semi-annual sale. I figure I have an Angel's Card, I may as well use it (side note: I only use this card twice a year. During the semi-annual sales).
The purpose: I need to buy a new strapless bra to take with me when I go wedding dress shopping. I ended up getting sidetracked by this:
It's a bracelet. More importantly, it's completely badass. The rose on top opens, and it's perfume.
How cool is that? It's like a spy bracelet, but instead of containing a secret camera, it contains secret...perfume. Okay, that wasn't my best comparison ever, but you catch my drift.
(Actually, it reminds me of those rings that were popular when I was growing up. The ones that were shaped like hearts or stars or whatever and contained lip gloss. Does anyone else remember these? Or am I alone in a sea of nostalgia?)
When I saw this, I giggled. It was so cute and springy...and completely useless. I didn't let myself agonize over the fact that I really don't ever wear bracelets, I just threw it into my shopping bag and bought it. For me, this was a frivolous buy. But, as a friend of mine used to say, it is a little "happy." Or a little something that makes you feel good. It happys me. Every now and then, a little happy is a necessity in life.
I'm probably the least spontaneous person in the world. I'm also pretty uptight. I need to learn to let go sometimes. It's something I struggle with. This is addressed in a lot of ways in the list (pole dancing, hello), but I thought a little splurge was a nice way to wade into the bigger, less inhibition filled pool.
It's baby steps, people.
(And yes, before you ask, I bought a strapless bra too. And also, the bracelet was 75% off, but my inability to buy things for full price is a battle best fought another day.)
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Wedding planning update
Well, after much heave ho, John and I finally set an official date.
We're getting married June 11, 2011. So, less than a year away.
(I better get cracking on those cranes.)
If you're at all curious, you can read more about us, our wedding, and whatever else on our dorky wedding website:
Click here for more info. I mean, if you really want to.
With that said, I did cross something else off my list this weekend, but it will have to wait for later. I hope everyone had a splendid weekend!
We're getting married June 11, 2011. So, less than a year away.
(I better get cracking on those cranes.)
If you're at all curious, you can read more about us, our wedding, and whatever else on our dorky wedding website:
Click here for more info. I mean, if you really want to.
With that said, I did cross something else off my list this weekend, but it will have to wait for later. I hope everyone had a splendid weekend!
Friday, June 18, 2010
A more in depth explantation
There seems to be some confusion among friends and family (IRL and otherwise) over why I'm doing this.
This isn't something I'm doing because John told me I should, or even insinuated I should. Yes, he influenced some items on the list, but becoming a "better person" wasn't his idea, nor has he ever suggested I need to improve myself. He never said, "You know, Katy, I love you and all, but there are some things I think you can do so you'll be a better wife."
This is about personal growth and accomplishing certain things before getting married. It's about addressing things about myself I would like to change.
Let's face it, no one's perfect, and I fall far from the mark. I'm not trying to make myself into something I'm not for someone else. It's about learning. It's totally possible I could do something on the list and say, "Whoa! Never Again! That sucked." But it's also possible I could do something that completely changes my outlook on things for the better, or even tweaks me into a better person as well.
The truth of the matter is I don't know how to be someone's wife. I don't think anyone really knows how to be a good spouse until they're married, and I'm not claiming that riding a horse or conquering my fear of clowns will make me a good wife, but I do think I will learn skills necessary, that I currently lack, to be a good wife. Like courage, patience, tenacity and empathy.
So what I'm saying is, read a little more between the lines, and you might learn something. I know I am.
This isn't something I'm doing because John told me I should, or even insinuated I should. Yes, he influenced some items on the list, but becoming a "better person" wasn't his idea, nor has he ever suggested I need to improve myself. He never said, "You know, Katy, I love you and all, but there are some things I think you can do so you'll be a better wife."
This is about personal growth and accomplishing certain things before getting married. It's about addressing things about myself I would like to change.
Let's face it, no one's perfect, and I fall far from the mark. I'm not trying to make myself into something I'm not for someone else. It's about learning. It's totally possible I could do something on the list and say, "Whoa! Never Again! That sucked." But it's also possible I could do something that completely changes my outlook on things for the better, or even tweaks me into a better person as well.
The truth of the matter is I don't know how to be someone's wife. I don't think anyone really knows how to be a good spouse until they're married, and I'm not claiming that riding a horse or conquering my fear of clowns will make me a good wife, but I do think I will learn skills necessary, that I currently lack, to be a good wife. Like courage, patience, tenacity and empathy.
So what I'm saying is, read a little more between the lines, and you might learn something. I know I am.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
#21
# 21 Actually keep in touch with people far away from me
I'm notoriously bad at keeping in touch with people. Ask any of my friends. They'll be brutally honest (but they aren't much, if at all, better than I am) and agree, wholeheartedly.
It's funny. My mom is terrific at writing letters. Still, to this day, she writes letters to my Noni (her mother-in-law), even though they speak on the phone weekly. These aren't just casual notes, but detailed letters covering a week of activities over the course of several pages. Yet, here I am, incapable of picking up a phone and calling someone, just to say "Hi."
No more.
Last week, I had a three hour phone conversation with one of my best friends, Emily. We spent a lot of time waxing poetic about high school, waste deep in nostalgia. We vented. We reminisced. We reassured. Mostly, we laughed.
Ya'll, it was really, really nice. I had forgotten how nice it can be to talk, not text. I usually feel you need a reason to bother someone with a phone call, note or email. I've realized that you don't need a reason, per se, but rather a want to speak to the person on the other line, and that in itself is reason enough. It won't be a bother, but more than likely, a welcome break from reality.
My friends are fabulous people. I'm blessed to have them in my life. And now, it's a lot easier to pick up the phone, just to say hi.
Update on other list related items: I think I've successfully kicked the caffeine addiction! It took a couple weeks, but I no longer wake up really tired, and most days I don't even get cravings toward mid-afternoon, which was when I usually chugged a double shot from Starbucks. I will admit, I have been drinking a lot of tea, mostly due to the summer cold from hell, but also because, hey, I'm southern, drinking iced tea is what we do. It's got way less caffeine than coffee, so I'm considering it a win all around.
Also-also: The wedding is less than a year away, and I need to get cracking on my paper cranes! It's dawned on me I have no idea how to make origami cranes. Anyone have a good reference?
AND: Still waiting to do my red wine shtick. I need suggestions. What are some of your favorites?
I'm notoriously bad at keeping in touch with people. Ask any of my friends. They'll be brutally honest (but they aren't much, if at all, better than I am) and agree, wholeheartedly.
It's funny. My mom is terrific at writing letters. Still, to this day, she writes letters to my Noni (her mother-in-law), even though they speak on the phone weekly. These aren't just casual notes, but detailed letters covering a week of activities over the course of several pages. Yet, here I am, incapable of picking up a phone and calling someone, just to say "Hi."
No more.
Last week, I had a three hour phone conversation with one of my best friends, Emily. We spent a lot of time waxing poetic about high school, waste deep in nostalgia. We vented. We reminisced. We reassured. Mostly, we laughed.
Ya'll, it was really, really nice. I had forgotten how nice it can be to talk, not text. I usually feel you need a reason to bother someone with a phone call, note or email. I've realized that you don't need a reason, per se, but rather a want to speak to the person on the other line, and that in itself is reason enough. It won't be a bother, but more than likely, a welcome break from reality.
My friends are fabulous people. I'm blessed to have them in my life. And now, it's a lot easier to pick up the phone, just to say hi.
Update on other list related items: I think I've successfully kicked the caffeine addiction! It took a couple weeks, but I no longer wake up really tired, and most days I don't even get cravings toward mid-afternoon, which was when I usually chugged a double shot from Starbucks. I will admit, I have been drinking a lot of tea, mostly due to the summer cold from hell, but also because, hey, I'm southern, drinking iced tea is what we do. It's got way less caffeine than coffee, so I'm considering it a win all around.
Also-also: The wedding is less than a year away, and I need to get cracking on my paper cranes! It's dawned on me I have no idea how to make origami cranes. Anyone have a good reference?
AND: Still waiting to do my red wine shtick. I need suggestions. What are some of your favorites?
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Applications harder than grad school do exist
Today I did something I'm really excited about. It isn't on the list, but I still think it's totally awesome.
I applied to be on "Say Yes to the Dress."
Words cannot describe how much I love that show. I get teary eyed almost every time I watch it. Really, I love weddings, even ones that aren't my own, and I get great joy out of watching other people's bridal experiences. (The same goes to Bridezillas, on an almost carnal pleasure level. Seriously, I love that train wreck of a show and everyone on it, but I digress.)
Anyhoo, I was talking to my dear friend Bailey, who, coincidentally, is coming to visit me in July, and she asked if we could go to Kleinfeld Bridal. How on earth could I ever say no to that? If you answered, "Well, you can't!" you would be correct. THEN, she went on to say I should apply to be on the show.
Now, normally, I would have said something like, "Nah, they'd never pick me, so why bother?" But, in my quest to try new and exciting things, I thought, "Why not?"
Ya'll, that application is harder than grad school apps, and as Bailey would argue, way more important.
Maybe it's because I have serious trouble talking about myself concretely, but I had serious trouble answering the questions. "Describe yourself in 3 words." I'm a multifaceted person, so it's pretty hard to pick three. I ended up going with loyal, fun-loving, free-thinking. "Describe your style in 3 words." That one was easier, as I could have just said, none at all. As it is, I went with simple, classic, comfortable. The most difficult was "Tell us something we wouldn't know by looking at you." I don't generally have secrets, nor do I live a terribly exciting life, so it was hard to think of something. I ended up going with the list, because it's the most exciting thing (other than getting married) in my life right now.
I think I answered them sincerely and thoughtfully and honestly, and that's really all I can do. So, for better or for worse, what's done is done. I'll keep you all posted.
P.S. I promise I will have a list-related post for you in the next couple days. My cold has developed into a cough, and I've generally felt really crummy. Also, I have wedding woes of planning a Catholic mass wedding to share as well. All that and more, coming soon!
I applied to be on "Say Yes to the Dress."
Words cannot describe how much I love that show. I get teary eyed almost every time I watch it. Really, I love weddings, even ones that aren't my own, and I get great joy out of watching other people's bridal experiences. (The same goes to Bridezillas, on an almost carnal pleasure level. Seriously, I love that train wreck of a show and everyone on it, but I digress.)
Anyhoo, I was talking to my dear friend Bailey, who, coincidentally, is coming to visit me in July, and she asked if we could go to Kleinfeld Bridal. How on earth could I ever say no to that? If you answered, "Well, you can't!" you would be correct. THEN, she went on to say I should apply to be on the show.
Now, normally, I would have said something like, "Nah, they'd never pick me, so why bother?" But, in my quest to try new and exciting things, I thought, "Why not?"
Ya'll, that application is harder than grad school apps, and as Bailey would argue, way more important.
Maybe it's because I have serious trouble talking about myself concretely, but I had serious trouble answering the questions. "Describe yourself in 3 words." I'm a multifaceted person, so it's pretty hard to pick three. I ended up going with loyal, fun-loving, free-thinking. "Describe your style in 3 words." That one was easier, as I could have just said, none at all. As it is, I went with simple, classic, comfortable. The most difficult was "Tell us something we wouldn't know by looking at you." I don't generally have secrets, nor do I live a terribly exciting life, so it was hard to think of something. I ended up going with the list, because it's the most exciting thing (other than getting married) in my life right now.
I think I answered them sincerely and thoughtfully and honestly, and that's really all I can do. So, for better or for worse, what's done is done. I'll keep you all posted.
P.S. I promise I will have a list-related post for you in the next couple days. My cold has developed into a cough, and I've generally felt really crummy. Also, I have wedding woes of planning a Catholic mass wedding to share as well. All that and more, coming soon!
Sunday, June 6, 2010
A change in scheduled activities
For those who follow me on Twitter, you know I was looking forward to taking care of #20, learn to love red wine, this weekend. I researched last week, I knew exactly what wine I was going to buy, and I was prepared to host my first wine tasting for my uncle (whom I live with).
Unfortunately, a surprise summer cold accompanied with a sneak attack sore throat has set me back this weekend, and I have been unable to indulge. (Yes, on some level I think indulging could have helped, but I thought best not to mix alcohol I'm not used to drinking with various medications.) Hopefully next weekend I'll be up to it.
However, the weekend was not totally wasted. I did get a good jump-start on #21. More on that tomorrow, because right now it's time to tackle something totally unrelated to my list: studying for a midterm.
Unfortunately, a surprise summer cold accompanied with a sneak attack sore throat has set me back this weekend, and I have been unable to indulge. (Yes, on some level I think indulging could have helped, but I thought best not to mix alcohol I'm not used to drinking with various medications.) Hopefully next weekend I'll be up to it.
However, the weekend was not totally wasted. I did get a good jump-start on #21. More on that tomorrow, because right now it's time to tackle something totally unrelated to my list: studying for a midterm.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Wedding woes
When you get engaged, no one ever tells you how hard it will be to plan a wedding. All you hear is, "Congratulations!" and "You're going to make a beautiful bride!" and "You must be so happy!" No one ever tells it like it is, which is to say, "Hold on, because the next year or so will be the most stressful, annoying, maddening year ever, and at several points you will want to kill either yourself, your fiance, your family or the people you are negotiating with because they will all drive you flipping crazy. Gooooood luck!"
I am hear to say that the latter is what should be printed on most "congratulations on your engagement cards."
In case you couldn't tell, I'm have a lot of difficulty with current wedding plans. We're trying to nail down a date/place, and the fact that the officiant won't return any phone calls, and the reception coordinator won't email me back is maddening beyond belief. All I have to say, is thank god for #20 because it's definitely helping me survive this.
Just so you don't feel totally gypped, here is the cutest darn dessert table I've ever seen, featured today on Style Me Pretty!
I am hear to say that the latter is what should be printed on most "congratulations on your engagement cards."
In case you couldn't tell, I'm have a lot of difficulty with current wedding plans. We're trying to nail down a date/place, and the fact that the officiant won't return any phone calls, and the reception coordinator won't email me back is maddening beyond belief. All I have to say, is thank god for #20 because it's definitely helping me survive this.
Just so you don't feel totally gypped, here is the cutest darn dessert table I've ever seen, featured today on Style Me Pretty!
Monday, May 31, 2010
#18
#18 Make a Discovery
This really should have read "make a personal discovery" because that's what I intended it to be. I wanted to do this because I think it's important to constantly "rediscover" who you are and who you want to be. I know, for me, it's easy to grow complacent and forget that I am a multifaceted individual, capable of extraordinary things, I just have to discover them.
Yesterday, I did something extraordinary. I played wiffle ball.
For those of you who know me personally, the idea that I willingly played a sport is at best comical and at worst downright incredulous and hysterical. I am not an athletic person. In fact, I often claim to be the most nonathletic person in the world. Because of this non-talent, I feel embarrassed when I play sports, and since I hate to be made fun of, I take all the jabs made when you participate in an activity such as a sport personally.
But, yesterday, at a family cookout, I was somehow persuaded to play wiffle ball. I wasn't very excited at first, but once I got into it, I had fun. I was even able to take all the jabbing of, "Oh, Katy is at bat, everyone move in!" in jest. And you know what? I wasn't even half bad at it. I even made a couple runs.
I've always thought since I'm not good at sports, playing them would be unbearable (I blame years of P.E. in school). But, yesterday, I learned it's okay to make a fool out of myself and play a game, even if I'm not athletically inclined. It can be fun, and dare I say, enjoyable enough to do again in the future, name-calling and personal insults included.
(When I told John this, he basically said, "Yeah? That's what I've been trying to tell you!" File this under "Things I need to learn on my own, which is why I didn't listen to you in the first place, sorry.")
This really should have read "make a personal discovery" because that's what I intended it to be. I wanted to do this because I think it's important to constantly "rediscover" who you are and who you want to be. I know, for me, it's easy to grow complacent and forget that I am a multifaceted individual, capable of extraordinary things, I just have to discover them.
Yesterday, I did something extraordinary. I played wiffle ball.
For those of you who know me personally, the idea that I willingly played a sport is at best comical and at worst downright incredulous and hysterical. I am not an athletic person. In fact, I often claim to be the most nonathletic person in the world. Because of this non-talent, I feel embarrassed when I play sports, and since I hate to be made fun of, I take all the jabs made when you participate in an activity such as a sport personally.
But, yesterday, at a family cookout, I was somehow persuaded to play wiffle ball. I wasn't very excited at first, but once I got into it, I had fun. I was even able to take all the jabbing of, "Oh, Katy is at bat, everyone move in!" in jest. And you know what? I wasn't even half bad at it. I even made a couple runs.
I've always thought since I'm not good at sports, playing them would be unbearable (I blame years of P.E. in school). But, yesterday, I learned it's okay to make a fool out of myself and play a game, even if I'm not athletically inclined. It can be fun, and dare I say, enjoyable enough to do again in the future, name-calling and personal insults included.
(When I told John this, he basically said, "Yeah? That's what I've been trying to tell you!" File this under "Things I need to learn on my own, which is why I didn't listen to you in the first place, sorry.")
Saturday, May 29, 2010
#48
Yesterday, I vowed to start my list with something I've been meaning to get to for quite sometime. So, after savoring my last Americano for what will conceivably be a long time yesterday afternoon, today I started #48, kicking my caffeine habit.
And, as fate would have it, I woke up at 7 a.m., on a Saturday.
This will be harder than I thought.
And, as fate would have it, I woke up at 7 a.m., on a Saturday.
This will be harder than I thought.
Parameters
Rules. Life is full of 'em. This project is no exception.
The list took me a long time to figure out, but deciding how I was going to go about it was even harder. Alas, rules must be made (what would you break later without them?).
1. All items must be completed by my wedding day. (ETA: Now set for June 11, 2011).
2. No killing two birds with one stone, e.g., by riding a bicycle made for two, I can't be taking on a physical challenge. A caveat: One of my biggest fears is clowns. I need to conquer this fear. I also have to go to the circus. Since clowns are in abundance at the circus, these two will probably be accomplished together, under the assumption I will not be going to the circus solely for the clowns, which I won't.
3. Once the list is live, there is no going back. All the items must be completed. No substitutions because I changed my mind.
4. A buddy can be used for moral support, unless the item necessitates the cheese stand alone.
5. I will document each item as I cross it off within 3 days of accomplishing it.
Well, there they are. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
The list took me a long time to figure out, but deciding how I was going to go about it was even harder. Alas, rules must be made (what would you break later without them?).
1. All items must be completed by my wedding day. (ETA: Now set for June 11, 2011).
2. No killing two birds with one stone, e.g., by riding a bicycle made for two, I can't be taking on a physical challenge. A caveat: One of my biggest fears is clowns. I need to conquer this fear. I also have to go to the circus. Since clowns are in abundance at the circus, these two will probably be accomplished together, under the assumption I will not be going to the circus solely for the clowns, which I won't.
3. Once the list is live, there is no going back. All the items must be completed. No substitutions because I changed my mind.
4. A buddy can be used for moral support, unless the item necessitates the cheese stand alone.
5. I will document each item as I cross it off within 3 days of accomplishing it.
Well, there they are. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Friday, May 28, 2010
The list
So, here it is. The master list of things I want to complete before saying "I do!" next year. All 55 of 'em.
Quick note: Why 55? 55 is a multiple of 11, my favorite number. Also, it is 5, 11 times, and that's 2 prime numbers, and I really dig prime numbers. And? It seemed like a good place to stop.
55 (realistic) things to do before I get married:
1. Ride the world’s biggest roller coaster (in this case the tallest and fastest steel coaster, which is in Jackson, NJ)
2. Dance on a bar
3. Start a pointless collection
4. Conquer my fears
5. Go to the circus
6. Learn to sew
7. Find a (fulfilling) hobby (and actually do it)
8. Write a children’s book
9. Ride a horse
10. Take an artistic class
11. Learn how to change the oil in my car
12. Be a better daughter
13. Be a better sister
14. Get a job
15. Become a big sister (like, in the mentoring way, not biologically)
16. Buy something completely frivolous
17. Meet a favorite celebrity
18. Make a discovery
19. Become a better crunchy-granola-earth-friendly hippie girl
20. Learn to love red wine
21. Actually keep in touch with people far away from me
22. Take on a physical challenge
23. Eat in a restaurant by myself
24. Become more “fiscally responsible”
25. Cleanse myself and my belongings
26. Go to NYC
27. Be less envious
28. Let John teach me something
29. Expand my pallet
30. Accept the fact that I will never join a gym, and find a fitness program that actually works for me
31. Go fishing
32. Build a thicker skin
33. Shoot a gun
34. Ride a bicycle made for two
35. Fly a plane
36. Plant some plants
37. Donate blood
38. Sleep in a (truly) haunted house
39. Go on a spontaneous trip
40. Write a letter to the editor and get it published
41. Send a message in a bottle
42. Go camping
43. Make a time capsule to share with my kids one day
44. Get my fortune told
45. Listen to my iPod right through without hitting shuffle for a week
46. Take a vow of silence (for a day)
47. Teach someone something
48. Kick my caffeine habit
49. Fold 1000 paper cranes (that’s approximately 3 a day for the next year) and give them away
50. Learn how to do my taxes
51. Take pole-dancing lessons.
52. Live without my cell phone for a day
53. Make it through a scary movie
54. Be less whiny and more appreciative
55. Plan my wedding without being a bridezilla
A lot of thought went into this list. It's a product of several weeks of intense thought and reflection. Each item is designed to challenge me, push me to my limits, test the boundaries or scare the crap out of me. Inevitably, each teach me something about myself or life, or in the best case scenario, something about both.
Quick note: Why 55? 55 is a multiple of 11, my favorite number. Also, it is 5, 11 times, and that's 2 prime numbers, and I really dig prime numbers. And? It seemed like a good place to stop.
55 (realistic) things to do before I get married:
1. Ride the world’s biggest roller coaster (in this case the tallest and fastest steel coaster, which is in Jackson, NJ)
2. Dance on a bar
3. Start a pointless collection
4. Conquer my fears
5. Go to the circus
6. Learn to sew
7. Find a (fulfilling) hobby (and actually do it)
8. Write a children’s book
9. Ride a horse
10. Take an artistic class
11. Learn how to change the oil in my car
12. Be a better daughter
13. Be a better sister
14. Get a job
15. Become a big sister (like, in the mentoring way, not biologically)
16. Buy something completely frivolous
17. Meet a favorite celebrity
18. Make a discovery
19. Become a better crunchy-granola-earth-friendly hippie girl
20. Learn to love red wine
21. Actually keep in touch with people far away from me
22. Take on a physical challenge
23. Eat in a restaurant by myself
24. Become more “fiscally responsible”
25. Cleanse myself and my belongings
26. Go to NYC
27. Be less envious
28. Let John teach me something
29. Expand my pallet
30. Accept the fact that I will never join a gym, and find a fitness program that actually works for me
31. Go fishing
32. Build a thicker skin
33. Shoot a gun
34. Ride a bicycle made for two
35. Fly a plane
36. Plant some plants
37. Donate blood
38. Sleep in a (truly) haunted house
39. Go on a spontaneous trip
40. Write a letter to the editor and get it published
41. Send a message in a bottle
42. Go camping
43. Make a time capsule to share with my kids one day
44. Get my fortune told
45. Listen to my iPod right through without hitting shuffle for a week
46. Take a vow of silence (for a day)
47. Teach someone something
48. Kick my caffeine habit
49. Fold 1000 paper cranes (that’s approximately 3 a day for the next year) and give them away
50. Learn how to do my taxes
51. Take pole-dancing lessons.
52. Live without my cell phone for a day
53. Make it through a scary movie
54. Be less whiny and more appreciative
55. Plan my wedding without being a bridezilla
A lot of thought went into this list. It's a product of several weeks of intense thought and reflection. Each item is designed to challenge me, push me to my limits, test the boundaries or scare the crap out of me. Inevitably, each teach me something about myself or life, or in the best case scenario, something about both.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
The quest
Getting married is a big deal.
I'm told that in order to have a successful marriage, one should be completely at peace with oneself prior to marriage. Totally happy with who you are as an individual. Or something to that effect.
I'm getting married next year. I am truly excited, and I honestly cannot wait to be the Future Mrs. So-and-So. While I am mostly happy with who I am (I haven't met anyone who is 100% happy. Everyone has some issue with themselves. I mean, nobody's perfect), I recognize, realistically, there are things I should probably do before going to the chapel.
Why am I doing this? I want to become the best possible version of myself before getting married, and by taking on this project, I can do that. Marriage is work, and I know it won't always be easy, but in all honestly, if I can make it through a horror film, conquer my fear of heights and clowns and go camping in one year, I can be one half of a happy marriage. In a way, it's a gift to my future husband, as I hope that becoming this better version of myself, I will become the best wife I can be.
From this point forward til my wedding day (tentatively scheduled for sometime in June 2011) I will take on my personal Everest and document every terrifying, exhilarating, amazing moment.
So, welcome :).
I'm told that in order to have a successful marriage, one should be completely at peace with oneself prior to marriage. Totally happy with who you are as an individual. Or something to that effect.
I'm getting married next year. I am truly excited, and I honestly cannot wait to be the Future Mrs. So-and-So. While I am mostly happy with who I am (I haven't met anyone who is 100% happy. Everyone has some issue with themselves. I mean, nobody's perfect), I recognize, realistically, there are things I should probably do before going to the chapel.
Why am I doing this? I want to become the best possible version of myself before getting married, and by taking on this project, I can do that. Marriage is work, and I know it won't always be easy, but in all honestly, if I can make it through a horror film, conquer my fear of heights and clowns and go camping in one year, I can be one half of a happy marriage. In a way, it's a gift to my future husband, as I hope that becoming this better version of myself, I will become the best wife I can be.
From this point forward til my wedding day (tentatively scheduled for sometime in June 2011) I will take on my personal Everest and document every terrifying, exhilarating, amazing moment.
So, welcome :).
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