Honeymooning

It's booked! 7 days, honeymoon suite, Punta Cana, Dominican Republic.

(Thank you to the dude who posted this beautiful shot on Flickr)

Remission Accomplished

Nothing more to say right now. :)

Cack

Yesterday was a day of over-indulgence; it was the catering and cake-tasting day.

The first place we went to was just amazing. It was really busy (just how I'd want my wedding cake bakery to be!), but the lady who helped us was just soo apologetic that we had to wait for ten minutes. I would've waited an hour in a place like that, with its smell of sweet frosting. She gave us a reasonable quote on what we want and was really accommodating. This became even more apparent when we went to the next place and realized that our proposed cake idea wasn't as cut and dry for some. But place #1 handed us a sample tray as we walked out, and we'd annihilated the entire tray in 15 minutes. Perhaps 10, if I'm being honest. That was some delicious cake!

The next bakery? Let's just say that J and I laughed so hard after we left that I almost gave myself an asthma attack. While place #2 (ha) smelled and looked wonderful, they had such odd, yet strict, rules about what they would or wouldn't do. You want a 6" white cake? No, they don't do that -- only white almond! Well, thank you very much, but you can keep your white almond. Also, they don't "do" a few of the other requests we had. And I consider what we want to be such simple things -- no. We were left to tally up the quote on our own, and as we discovered on the way home, they'd recommended about 3 times as much cake as the first bakery. Sorry, "Jenny," but this ain't my first wedding cake rodeo.

On top of everything else, we visited the bakeries after a HUGE lunch--excuse me, tasting--with our caterer. So when we headed out to talk cake, we were already tired and full and dreaming of naps. Plus the extremely loud and snobby vegetarian bride who sat to my right couldn't keep her eyes off my man -- but I don't blame her; J's quite a catch AND he provides thoughtful feedback, while her fiance was giving the old, "Oh I don't care...whatever," line, whilst talking fantasy football with one of the other grooms. My groom? He was helping me take notes on what we wanted to add to our menu. Have I mentioned I love J? He's earned the nickname "Groom on Fire" after he drew a sketch of our venue for the DJ, complete with shepherd's hooks on the water line.

All in all, yesterday we tried 95% of the things on our menu. Y'all, get ready, it was soooo good. Every single bit of it. We also added two things to our cocktail hour menu that will knock your socks off. We left our tasting feeling really good that we'll be offering an exceptional meal to our loved ones.

And now I know I'm going to call cake place #1 and ask to order samples specifically in our flavors (with the right fillings). But I'm pretty sure the chapter on cake is open and shut. Mmmm.

And now I'm hungry.

J Crew Antics

I'm not complaining, because I got the deal.

Last night I got home from the "May bride's" house and for whatever reason, felt inspired to see if the BM dress I bought for her wedding is on sale (earlier this week the style I bought was not on sale, a few others were...it had seemed there was no rhyme or reason to the color of styles that were on sale).

Lo and behold, every single color and style of cotton cady BM dress was on sale...AND J Crew had added the elusive "Take an extra 20% off with code at checkout." Shoot, I know they don't honor price adjustments after a month, so I re-bought the dress, and will return the first unworn dress this week!

So this morning I got up planning to send a text to the rest of the BMs in this wedding, but the little J Crew voice in my head said, "Stacy, maybe you should check the website first, no?" So I did. Sale? Gone. 20% off code? Still there. All I know is that last night/this morning I bought a $225 dress for $166 including shipping.

Thanks for the hot late-night date, J Crew.

Dorkletwins

A few weeks back, J and I spent one of the warmest nights of the year (so far) on his parents' dock while they were out of town. It was so perfect and lovely and resulted in many cute pictures of the babies.

A particularly lovely view from my future in-laws dock.

Buddy boy

The girls

My ladybird

He's the cutest boy in the world!

Ears back, Mary wistfully wishes her friend the crane would come home.

Run, run dock boy!

The Proudest Moment

Last night, J and I had a ton of errands to run after work. One important one was stopping to see my wedding band. Oh sweet shamrocks, it's gorgeous. I want it now...it's not done quite yet, but soon. But I also got my precious back and only had a few moments of Gollam's, "It's mine, my precious." One ring to rule them all.

After that, we stopped by Trader Joe's. No big deal. I didn't notice anything odd. When we got in the car, J spilled the beans that we'd been basically shopping with his prom date from junior year of high school. Wow, he'd been so cool, he didn't even seem nervous while we were shopping. Perhaps he seemed a little too into the quality of the brie, but that's normal for him.

It's not like this was one of his "Past Loves" or anything like that. But they had the split second where they made eye contact, the moment that determines if you'll acknowledge someone's existence...and they both ignored it. Looked away. The classic purpose avoid; a phrase that was a daily conversation topic in college. And I taught it to J, because I've employed it several times and filled him in afterwards. But the TJ's run-in was awkward enough for him that we chatted about it for a little bit, and then I realized the solution.

S: "Ok, so you know how we have a code phrase for when there's a shady person lurking nearby? Like Stranger Danger?"

J: "Yes, you mean _______?" [I'm not going to tell you our danger code on the internet!]

S: "Exactly. We need one for when we run into someone in public...like someone one of us used to date, that we're quietly avoiding, etc. It needs to sound normal enough to strangers, but we'll know it's not something that we ever just accidentally say."

J: "What about mentioning Pennsylvania? You, know, 'PA.' As in Purpose Avoid?"

And oh my goodness, friends, there may only be 3 or 4 of you who get the sense of pride that flushed through me at that moment. This man, y'all, he gets me.

Two Thumbs Up

Normally J and I switch who picks the next movie on Netflix. But lately, that sneaky bugger has been changing the queue at work. But I have to give him credit where credit is due. He's picked some real winners lately.

1) In Bruges (2008). Never heard of it. Starring Mad-Eye Moody, Colin Farrell, and Fleur Delacour. Also starring Ralph Fiennes AKA Lord Voldemort. Right off the bat, you have to love a movie that is basically a remake of the Harry Potter cast. But, HP, it is not. Super violent, darkly comedic, and seriously intriguing. Highly recommended.

2) Green Street Hooligans (2005). Never heard of it. Starring Elijah Wood and a bunch of cute British boys. Learned about possibly true/possibly fictitious dark underworld of British football (soccer) firms (gangs). Wow. Super violent. But wow, so good.

Good job, J. Two violent foreign films get my thumbs up.

Wednesday, Bloody Wednesday

Yesterday I gave a pint of blood. And in return, the Red Cross gave me 3 small cans of apple juice, 2 bottles of water, a snack bag of pretzels, 2 chocolate chip cookies, a red fleece blanket and a pair of oven mitts.

No, it wasn't an all-you-can-eat buffet (pronounced: boo-fett), but I guess I am just one of those people who are really FUN when they give blood. Meaning, I almost passed out. Again. It happens every time. I thought I'd prepared myself adequately by making sure I ate tons of dark greens the night before and lots of water the day of. But after spending some serious quality time with the nurses and volunteers (they made me stay there for-ev-er), next time I'm going to try some new tactics that I picked up from loitering so long.

1) eat a cheeseburger twenty minutes before I go

2) right before I sit down, chug a bottle of warm water

3) actually listen to my headphones

4) don't try to read anything, including cell phone, which was what I was doing when I got extremely dizzy

It was amazing to be around such nice, good people. From the staff, the volunteers, to the people who were actually donating. You never run into nice people at the DMV, but if you want nice people, head to your nearest Red Cross donation center. When I finally went home, I was in such a good mood, and wouldn't you know it? I slept like a freaking rock. Best night of sleep in a long, long time.

And I feel completely fine today. So I guess the moral of the story is that maybe donating blood shouldn't be easy for me...oh, how I wish I could be one of those people who got up afterwards, drank some juice, and walked out completely fine. But maybe the fact that donating blood is a little harder for me made it more real. Reminded me that hey, yeah, I'm a little uncomfortable right now. But guess what? That's why I was doing it in the first place. To help someone else. To step outside of the selfish fog so many people my age (myself included) live in from day-to-day. Hanging around in that donation center, I was able to watch good people rush in after work to donate blood, platelets, and then go on with their days. A little bit of awareness like that is a good thing from time to time.

The best part is that yesterday's experience did not deter me from trying again after 56 days.

It did, however, teach me that if I'm ever in a knife fight and start to bleed out, I've only got about ten minutes before I lose consciousness. Guess I need to find a new hobby. :)

On Donating

I donate my old clothes, right? It's not like I keep all of my clothes to myself forever. No. Once the old ones don't fit me or my style any longer, I donate them. To someone who needs them. To keep someone else warm and comfortable and fully clothed in public. It would be completely unnecessary of me to keep things I don't need from people who do, especially when I have the means to replace them.

I am taking this same logic with me this afternoon to the Red Cross. I'm not going to lie, I am nervous about it. But as my wise soon-to-be-former boss/mentor reminded me, "Think of why you're donating, not what you're doing while you're doing it." So at 4:30 today when I go to give my first donation in ten years, I won't be thinking about how I hate needles or how I hope I don't pass out. I'll be thinking about how someone in my local area means as much to their friends and family as dear Laura means to me.

Another Post About Dog Puke

This past week, Leo's been a little devil.

He's been getting into things that before didn't intrigue him at all. We've had to take new precautions before we leave the house to avoid coming home to a train-wreck. I'm not going to tell you some of the awful things he's ingested from an overturned kitchen trash can this week, but I will tell you his body is punishing him for it now.

Leo is a strange bird. Before he tosses his cookies, (does anyone else's dogs puke as much as ours do? If you can stomach it, click here and scroll down for a reminder of past-pukes...) Leo makes a strange little smiling face, where his dog-cheeks stick out and he kind of appears to be grimacing. Grima-smiling. Anyway, we call it "Bat Wings." And we know now that it is the warning bell to awful things coming soon, and before you know it, he's heaving and....yeah, all over the floor. So when one of us spots Bat Wings, it goes down a little something like this:

S: Oh no! He's got BAT WINGS! Get him off the couch!!!

J: Leo, down! Hurry! DOWN! Oh, no, ewwww...

S: sigh...I'll get the Spot Shot...

Well, last night, I was brushing my teeth and preparing to skip into the TV room with swimming goggles on (this is true), when I noticed a small dingo standing next to me in the bathroom. I looked down at him. BAT WINGS. Just as he started to heave. After he was finished, J and I sat with him in the bathroom for quite some time, comforting him and telling him it was going to be ok. We're not angry with you, Leo. Regardless of how angry we were with him earlier, as soon as he gets sick, we always forgive him and I just want him to feel better.

And I might have said, "Thank you Leo, for running to tell Mommy you had to throw up." Either way, I hope this is good practice for parenthood -- that's the only way I can justify this.