See Before You Die

I ran across a site today, ‘1,000 places to see before you die’, see here, and it has sucked HOURS from my life. I find it so interesting. And God I wish I could see them all right now this second. Or maybe save my entire life and go on a year planned trip where some wonderful man with a butterscotch accent takes me by the hand and takes me to every place on this list as he rattles off facts in my ear like a helpful but oh so sexy tour guide. With only 5 of the locations in the United States I think that seeing all these sites would be near impossible, but I can wish. Go ahead and dig, it is so much fun!

I Am Melting

In California rain is such a novelty that it takes the entire state by surprise when it happens, even when it is the middle of the rainy season. The fact that I am a transplant from Michigan, “The official horrible weather in the United States” I am used to sun at dawn, rain in the morning, snow and sleet in the afternoon and then sun again in the evening. It is not a surprise to have all four seasons show their flamboyance in one single day. But here in Los Angeles people panic when it rains. Since the sun is not visible by those, what do you call them again, CLOUDS, then there is going to be a complete end of the world. A great majority of people refuse to step outside when there is the presence of weather; instead they stay inside peering out of their curtains with the kind of trepidation on their faces that you would think would only be reserved for a holocaust or the end of the world. They will stand there for hours and pray that in the moment that they blinked their eyes the bad dream will go away, the rain will leave and their sunny world would return to a sun filled land of radiant brightness.
A vast majority of the people who are brave or foolish enough to face the weather head on and continue with their day REALLY piss me off. The people here tend to pick their way across a soggy parking lot like an elephant carrying a live hand grenade through a field of mice. Or they drive 30 miles below the speed limit because they are not used to all this water falling on their windshield and they are terrified of hydroplaning because these bastards only know how to slam on the breaks which is the EXACT opposite of what you should do. Then my favourite is pulling into a parking lot and seeing a sea of people sitting in their cars because they are trying to contemplate how to get from the car to the restaurant without getting their perfectly manicured face, their artfully arranged hair and their thousand dollar Jimmy Choos into the building without getting wet.

I am not dehabilitated by the rain as my fellow Californians are, in fact I relish in the fact that we are getting any kind of weather at all because the normalcy of the endless days of sunshine seems a little fake in its perfection. This is I am sure how men feel about Pamela Andersons breasts. So as they run for cover I leap through the air in glee like a gazelle frolicking its beautiful ballet.

Someone Took A Dump On My Life

The last week has been nothing but a long line of mechanical failures that have effected my life, starting with the jeep blowing up. My day began innocently enough when I decided to go on a long hike early in the morning. I woke up quietly so as not to disturb Mr. Rogue and headed off to the hills in the jeep with my dog Rogue. When I pulled up to our destination, I got out of the car and then Rogue and I started up the hill. Not more than 10 steps and bam the car emits such a screech of anger that I whipped around shocked. Steam and smoke spewed out from under the hood and I was horrified at the problem that I was facing. Is the car going to blow up, should I run and hide, I was frozen with indecision. It turns out that I blew a hose, which spit all over the hot engine, which caused the steam and smoke. I thought the car died. It ended up only maimed. At least I had AAA.
And then yesterday I found out my entire website has a phishing virus and anyone who is looking at my micro sites of the house construction or the wedding site or even my professional portfolio can’t view anything, because Google, my hero, has put up bold dark letters and a warning to the world that my poor site is DISEASED. I felt so dirty and lost, like I had no one but me to fix this mess. And I so was not going to deal with it. So instead of agonizing and spending hours fixing the herpes filled site, instead of worrying about the stupid crippled car, I decided to do something productive and work on the design of my invitations. I was attempting to finish them up and then, this is when you know that the universe has PMS because everything goes wrong, I end up running into hours of ERRORS and obstacles. Thankfully I figured out most of the computer issues without picking up my computer and throwing it into the middle of the street, which would have then resulted in me beating it with a baseball bat while the neighbours watch the crazy lady in her pjs go nuts. Note to self consult with the Universe and make sure it is a good day before attempting to operate heavy machinery.
I think I am going got go snuggle with my pets and forget for a moment that everyone and everything is trying to make me go MAD.

Turn The Brain Off

I am constantly surprised at how much television the world watches. I often feel like an outcast in conversations where people will talk about their favourite shows because I hardly watch television ever. It isn’t because I don’t find some shows entertaining but rather a life choice. I grew up in a family that did not watch a lot of television. The times we were allowed to watch were monitored and since my mother tended to prefer crafts or playing with us television was really a nonissue. I think growing up that way I never understood how people had enough time in the day to fit in the amount of TV that they watch. Seriously I have heard that it is a stress reliever and that it is nice to come home from a long day of work and just turn off your brain. But for me I ask why I would want to do that, give all my ‘brain’ time to the office and then quickly rush home so I can shut it off. Sadly I think that television is the downfall of many other interesting things, and the interrupter to spending quality time engaging with family and friends and most importantly connecting with you.

Pasa Robles: Weekend Getaway

Last year Mr. Rogue and I wanted to get away for a trip. Since neither of us had a lot of time that we could take off of work we decided to take a long weekend and take a mini road trip to Pasa Robles. We took a long drive up the coast of California and stayed at a wonderful Bed and Breakfast surrounded by endless fields of grapes.



We got there Friday night and ended up vegging in our room. On Saturday we woke up early and explored the area around us. At noon we had a rented shuttle pick us up and take us to three various wine rooms for us to taste the wine. I say it was hit or miss for me in this area. Either I loved the glass of wine or I hated it. There were very few that were in between. After our explorations of the vineyards we were taken to our dinner reservations at the Justin Wineries. This meal, a seven course creation of the artistry of food, was probably one of the best dinners I ever had. Unfortunately I was hammered so it could have also been one of the worst meals I ever had. You see I am a light weight when it comes to drinking and after wine tasting all day I got to the meal slightly tipsy. Each of the seven courses was also paired with a half glass of wine. Although the wine was delicious I started scooting my half drunken glasses across the table to Mr. Rogue. At the end of the meal he managed to finish all of his wine and most of my sneakily snuck over wine glasses. We were both pretty drunk and so happy that we had opted to rent the shuttle for the day.

I was surprised when I woke up Sunday without a hangover and I was excited with the fact that I felt great because we were going to explore Hearst Castle today. I just cannot find the words to describe how amazing I felt looking at this castle. There was so much to see and so much to take in. It was truly one of the most BEAUTIFUL, breathtaking places that I have ever been. And I would HIGHLY recommend it to anyone interested in architecture or the arts.

My Helper

On gender roles and being the perfect housewife
Mr. Rogue and my relationship is amazing in the fact that he cooks, cleans, organizes and pays his bills on time. He is BY FAR the best roommate I have ever had (sorry Ms. Dancer and Mrs. Pool Shark) but he is a best friend with some serious benefits. I am so thankful that I have a great drive to keep a nice house and stay on top of things by not procrastinating and that Mr. Rogue is EXACTLY the same way. It’s like he is out to win the best man ever trophy award and I LOVE IT. Our house is stocked with necessities, the yard is always reasonably presentable, and he does not leave piles of cloths all over. I am proud my husband is such a fabulous man.

Another of the best things about him is that I am learning to be such a good cook. He put himself through school as a sous chef (assistant chef) and learned a lot along the way. Now he is transferring that knowledge onto me and one of our favourite things to do is to spend a few hours working together in the kitchen. At first it was a little awkward, I was not a very good cook and he was an amazing cook. I also have issues with people showing me things, if I don’t catch on right away I tend to get very frustrated which leads to me loosing my temper. But Mr. Rogue and I have devised a way where one is the chef and the other is the sous chef. That way one person has power over the cook book and the stove and the other person is the helper which basically means they get out the right ingredients, measuring tools, they help with prep work like chopping vegetables or pressing garlic, they clean up messes as they go along and basically gets everything ready for the chef. With us working like this we have so much fun in the kitchen together. I can see us growing old, trying new recipes and being a great team forever.

You Can’t

I have lots of faults that I am constantly battling with. There is a part of me that I love and that I am great being, and then there is a part of me that I would rather change. For instance I am rather bull headed. Once I get an idea in my head and once I decide to execute there is very little anyone can do to dissuade me. Sometimes this comes in handy because I truly am relentless when I want something. People have even called this one of my best assets, the fact that I am single-mindedly determined to achieve my goals.

But more often than not I find that this relentless drive without thought or care of my surroundings can leave me with regrets that I should have stopped and reassessed along the way. I find it gets particularly bad when someone says I cannot do something. Like oh you cannot do that or you cannot succeed that way, that you can’t do that attitude just makes me dig my heels in further and fight harder. So if you want me to do something the secret is to tell me that ‘you cant’.

Dogs Are Not Handbags

When I moved away to college I decided that I wanted to get a dog. My father is allergic to pet hair and because of this I never owned a dog or a cat and the lack of having a pet I thought needed to be rectified immediately. Initially I fell into the trap that most uneducated people who know nothing about dogs do, I started looking at photos of dogs and I tried to decide which breed I thought would be the prettiest. Note that this is EXACTLY what my later research showed is the opposite of what you should do!

Once I learned that I was breaking one of the cardinal ‘choosing a dog’ rules I decided to not purchase a dog until I could successfully identify dogs, their temperaments, their behaviours, and I could choose a dog that I liked AND that would fit seamlessly into my lifestyle. Unfortunately for me I fell in love with the Weimaraner because he was so beautiful with his glossy grey coat and his beautiful blue eyes. So in my research I desperately tried to squeeze this square dog into my round life. See the photos and tell me you would not love them too!


http://www.fordogtrainers.com/ProductImages/dog-breeds-muzzles/Weimaraner-muzzle-Weimaraner.jpg


http://www.southernweims.com/Abby%27s%20Pictures/Abby%27s%20News%20Photos/News%20Abby%20Puppy%20Point.jpg

So the problem was not his size, or his beauty, or the fact that he would not be good with kids or not smart enough, the problem with this beautiful dog is that they need A LOT of exercise. And by a lot meaning that they need to be free to run, that they should be run for miles every single day and that if you skip one workout that dog will be a nightmare of anxious activity which would lead to a very unhappy dog and a super very unhappy me. I was glad that I was honest with myself about the fact that I would just not be able to do it. So I shut the door on this beautiful animal and looked to other breeds.

In the long run I ended up choosing a Rottweiler dog for my breed. Although they had a few things that I knew that I would need to be conscious of and work toward such as Rottweiler’s are a headstrong, dominate, can be aggressive if not handled properly in the pack mentality, I felt that these things I could do. I could be a dominate pack leader, I could make sure that my dog was trained right and acclimated to be a great dog and not nasty as some Rottweiler’s can be if not trained and handled properly. It ended up that I made the best choice because I ended up with the best dog ever!

The God of Google

I wonder sometimes what people did before the computer because how can you live without email, and web surfing, and BLOGGING! I once had a conversation with my grandfather just on the amazingness of Google itself, because even thought I think the internet is amazing I think that Google is defiantly MORE amazing. I must use the Google search tool at least 50 times a day. I Google if I have a question, if I want directions, if I want to read a review on a product, and so many other wonderful things. I refer to Google sometimes as my BFF and I told my grandfather that Google is the equivalent of combining the top one hundred most intelligent people in the world together in one little blank box. Do you have a question because Google has the answer!

Ricky Martin Eat Your Heart Out

When I am crabby, as I am getting more and more prone to being in my depression, Mr. Rogue has the best way to whip me out of my misery and open my anger filled eyes open to see the levity in life. His wonderful new way of cheering me up is dancing. I wish I could show you the video of my soon to be husband dancing around like a moron and singing in his horrible off key voice but I cant show you this perfect representation of why this man is the love of my life. Sorry Ricky I guess my man is not going to impress you with his skills today. And the reason I can’t show it to you is because I have been SWORN to secrecy, and as much as I want to share all of myself with you unfortunately the parts of myself that overlap with the parts of other people’s lives and therefore wishes I have to take into consideration. And I did CONSIDER posting it anyways but then I thought that I don’t think I could ever find someone to love him more than I do. And he really does deserve the best!

Great Idea For A Unique Gift

I found a great new artist Fleur Northcote, an Australia who I found on my favourite trolling crafty idea site Etsy. He does the most marvellous works of art for couples. Basically he takes notes, emails, and other things that you love for the text background and then superimposes vector artwork of you and your man above the text. This is something that I am considering doing for myself and a few friends for their weddings. If you want to get your own he has an Etsy site here. These are two that I especially liked:

More Focus

Now that I have chosen the wedding colors and theme officially you would think that I would have LESS things to choose from, because if it does not fit the theme or color palette then I can ignore it. But my creative brain will not turn off no matter how many times I pull it out and kick it senseless. When I go to any store Michaels, Target, the mall leaves me salivating over anything that I think could potentially incorporate SOMEHOW into my wedding. I mean potentially I could come up with ways to use that baby blanket, curtain rod, table runner, lamp shade. As I fanaticise about using these things in the wedding, clearly that lampshade could be turned upside down, a bowl could be put in it, and that would make a super retro center piece. Then I stop myself, remove brain and run out of the store screaming bloody murder. I think this is why Mr. Rogue refuses to go to a store with me, because of the screaming as I run out the store.

New Experiences, New Food, Old Friends

Today Ms. Wise, Ms. Dancer and I all went to the Getty Drawing hour and then to a new Italian restaurant for dinner. This is something that Ms. Dancer and I do often as we both went to art school and we try to attempt to keep our sketching skills from getting completely encased in rust. Ms. Wise, a copywriter that I work with occasionally has no drawing skills but decided to come anyways because that is what friends are for, to push each other into other areas of interest.

Today we were learning about shapes in the human body and working with negative and positive space to create the best representation of what you see. Ms. Wise after 45 min found that she was not having a very good time and since both Ms. Dancer and I were starving we decided to ditch class and head off early to dinner.

Dinner was right up Ms. Wise’s alley. She is a huge food nut and Pecorino’s, a restaurant named after the most popular Italian cheese, original cuisine was just the thing to make us all a bundle of happy love. Because who would not be a bundle of love with a bellyful of super yummy Italian food, a glass of superb wine, and a night of laughs with great friends. I also really enjoyed the ambiance of the place, it was tucked away at the end of the Brentwood strip, the restaurant was small and cosy with brick walls, candlelight, and exposed beams. You could tell it was a local favourite with the metre de calling out people stepping in by name and multiple guests leaning over tables to talk to the customers beside them. I am thinking this may be a good place to drag my remarkably good looking, nice smelling husband for our wedding anniversary so I can get him drunk and take advantage of him.

Save Our Wedding Date Cards

These came out a lot easier than I expected. I have never been completely comfortable with print. My experience with web design is similar enough that I know how to get into trouble with the printing process. I knew that doing the design of my own printing materials was going to take a lot of work and a lot of things to learn but I was up for the challenge.

We decided to go with the post card idea because they were cheaper to ship and no licking countless amounts of envelopes. Magnets were another option but I am glad we went with the postcards.

When It Is Too Much

Sometimes when the pain is to much I crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head and throw my tear streaked face into a pillow where I can keep screaming until either their I can no longer hear the awful thoughts in my head or I pass out from lack of oxygen.

Bridesmaid Suffering

Today I went to dinner with Ms. O.C. to Houston’s one of our faviourite steak houses in the area to talk about the bridesmaid dresses for the wedding. Now we all know it is an honour and a pain to be in a wedding. An honour because of course you want to be standing up there in front when your very best friends walk down the isle. And you want to be with her all day getting ready and having fun and supporting her through all the wedding details. The big pain is the amount of money you have to spend for the dress that you will never wear again and the shoes that you hate but the bride made you buy. It is an issue that we all have to deal with. I was attempting to make this less painful by taking a page from Mrs. O.C.’s wedding and let the girls choose from a variety of dress styles.

I ended up originally with having all the girls wear either of these styles.





But because of my discussion with Mrs. O.C. and considering the price of these dresses which was a little bit more then I wanted to make them spend for a dress they may hate I decided to look a little further for dresses in the same tone but a bit more inexpensive.

In the end I let them choose between these three styles that I thought could potentially be good choices and looked close enough alike. Hopefully I made the suffering a little more bearable. And don’t worry we all know what is going to happen to them after the wedding. I wonder what good will does with all those unwanted dresses.

Mrs. What

I know there are some brides out there with issues or reservations about giving up their last name and I am glad to say that I am not one of them. It isn’t like I don’t like my last name, I do, I think it goes really well with my first and my middle, but I am not attached to it in a ‘Oh my god I so don’t want to’ kind of way. I reserve that for when someone asks me to eat Cuban food or holding two pairs of shoes only to be told I can only pick one pair. I think if Mr. Rogue’s last name was something hideous then I would have a stronger opinion on the subject but his works as well if not a little better than mine. My only real issue with changing my name is that I have to go to the social security office, the place that I have been once when I misplaced my card and had to get another. A place that made my skin crawl because it was infested with people that smelled and screamed and basically made life unpleasant. I thought I was going to get mugged right there in the waiting room.
Mr. Rogue brought up the conversation of getting my name changed:

Mr. Rogue: “So are you going to keep your last name or hyphenate it.”

Me: “I thought it was traditional for the bride to take the groom’s last name?”

Mr. Rogue: “It is but I am sure you would like to keep your last name, you being so independent and all.”
Me: “Uh, no I was just going to take yours.”
Now I have to pause because the expression on his face was like I believe I would have if I found out I just won the lottery and I was picturing all the shoes I could own, meaning every single pair of shoes ever made in my size only, a whole warehouse just for my shoes.
Mr. Rogue: “That is GREAT, I am so excited, this will make it a lot less confusing for the kids. I am so happy. You make me happy.”
Me: “Just remember this happiness the next time I spend to much at the mall.”

Indiana: I Probably Ran Over A Dozen Puppies

It is only recently that I find sometimes I do too much. Something that I would have done 3 years ago without cause for concern is now taking its toll on me in so many ways I can barely stand for the need of a flat surface to just take a quick nap. I used to go out to the club after work, I would stay out all night dancing and drinking, I would go to the diner after with friends and then when I got home at 7:30 am I glanced at the bed and said to myself ‘Why bother’ because I would just have to get up in 30 minutes to take a shower and go to work. On these days I would just live on caffeine and go to the bathroom every hour to spray another cloud of perfume over me to cover up the alcohol smell seeping out of my pores.
Today I had to go back to Michigan and then straight to work and I have never been in such severe pain.
3:30 am – Alarm goes off and I consider turning it off and sleeping through my flight back home.

4:00 am – Leave the house in the cold predawn morning late with my father dragging my bags and brandishing a whip so I am not late for my flight. The whip is the only way he can get me out of the house.

5:00 am – Arrive at the airport and stumble to the nearest Starbucks for a Chi Tea Late.

7:00 am – Board my flight from Michigan to LA.

8:30 am – After an hour and a half ditch the idea of getting ANY sleep on this flight when I realize that the mutant spawned little person behind me is not going to stop practicing his screams that break glass. I am just hoping that the windows in the airplane can hold out till we land.

8:32 am – Due to the three hour time change the 4 hour flight gets me to LA just in time for me to scurry off to work.

9:37 am – Consider gouging out my bosses eyes with a pencil in order to get his irritating voice to stop droning on and on and on and on about useless meaningless crap.

10:45 am – Chug diet coke constantly hoping that the caffeine will wake me up or preferably cause my heart to accelerate so much that I have a panic attack and get sent to the hospital where they give me large dose of sedatives and a flat surface to sleep on.

2:22 pm – Watch the clock and hope that God answers your prayers to make it 4:30 pm so you can sneak by the boss and go home to bed.

4:30 pm – Attempt to sneak past the boss and ignore the fact that you heard him call your name just before the elevator doors close.

5:30 pm – Do not feel guilty by the fact that I not only ignored my boss but that I probably ran over a group of young kids and a dozen puppies in my haste to get home because I am now in bed and sleeping.

Indiana: Mrs. Anapolis’s Wedding

I have been on a vacation week from work, because when I come home even though I get to see all my loved ones again I sometimes feel as if I am the baby in the bible where both mothers are pulling me in two different directions, neither willing to give up their half so the baby can live. Today is no exception. I woke up at Ms. Ivy Leagues house and managed to get my shit together and jump into the car only 45 minutes behind schedule. Normally I would be really proud that I managed to get up and out the door. But being this late makes the two hour drive to a wedding I have to get to on time pretty tight. So as I race across the state in my rented car, with curlers in my hair, attempting to put on makeup, talking on the phone, and going 30 miles over the speed limit because it is an empty flat road to no where I of course get pulled over. I did not even try to work my way out of the ticket like I normally would, that would take eye batting, and flirting, and time and since only half my makeup is done and I have curlers in my hair I am totally not going to get out of this one and I know it. At least he only wrote me a ticket for 10 over and left the makeup putting on and the cell phone talking out of the equation. As I pulled off the side of the curb I resisted the urge to sick my butt out of the car and moon the kindly policeman for his time and raced again, adept a little slower, to the church.
I got to the wedding on time and the ceremony was so beautiful and totally her. She was giggly, happy, and bouncy so much that you could not help but feel the infectious mood cover the crowded church. After I found my parents and headed off to the reception I briefly wondered what the HELL I was going to do all night. I did not have a date; my parents are social butterflies and would be swooping across the crowded room talking to all the relatives that they had not seen in OH SO LONG. I sat in the corner with my parents and I could not help but feel like I was a lost little puppy. As I considered drowning myself in a substantial amount of vodka I saw her, a redhead about my age, dateless and wildly also searching the room for an escape. I realized a kindred spirit in that moment and rushed to her side. We stayed next to each other with me practically sitting in her lap, sipping wine and talking about our lives. I found out that she was a college friend of the brides, that she was a nurse newly married, that we both liked long walks on the beach and jazz bars. We had so much fun at the wedding that instead of going home to the bride’s house, which was the original plan, and because I knew her house was going to be crowded, I accepted my new friends invitation to sleep at her house in her guest room. I give my parents credit for not being too shocked that their newly engaged daughter had picked up a girl at the wedding and was going home with her at the end of the night. That is just the way I roll. I just wish she lived closer because I could completely see her fitting nicely in my life.

Indiana: Comfort

Our first night in Culver Ms. Ivey League did the only sane thing that she could do, she took me out of Culver and out to the only city within miles. It took an hour to get there and once we arrived we were at the Salsa club, her personal haven. For some reason I was not in the mood to romp around on the dance floor because I was too tired and because the true love of my life was there, a pool table. It is embarrassing really, whenever I go out to see friends or hang out at a bar and there is a pool table I totally ditch my friends so I can be with my one true love. It is like a horrible affair I am having and I just cannot say no. I know I should ignore its siren call and play with my friend but I cannot help myself.

Thank god we are at that age where we can each do our own thing. We don’t have to sit in the corner, go to the bathroom together, rely on each other for every move and every decision. It is if being in your late 20’s releases you from the herd and allows you to breathe a little on your own. I had a ball that night shooting pool with a man who could barely speak English. I won and then we left.

Just spending time with her I feel more centered. It is like old times and conversation flows so naturally because I don’t feel like I have to hide with her, I can be me, and she can be her, and we are happy together. I thank god for all my wonderful friends, friends that I have had for such a long time that they are more like family, they really are the best.

Michigan: Hell Lurking Beneath The Surface

I woke up super early today and jumped into my rented car for my 7 hour road trip to Culver Indiana. I was on my way from my grandfather’s house where I had been working on wedding things and spending time with friends and family, to go and visit one of my best friends, Ms. Ivy League. She tried to warn me about Culver, to make sure that I did not get sucked in by the beauty of the landscaping, the endless rolling green pastures, the animals frolicking in the sun, and it was so hard to keep it all together and resist the glory. But for our friendship I resisted the eye candy and really tried to look beyond the sugar coated outside to the true rotten core that Ms. Ivy League insisted was there.

So I attempted to picture living here, in this land of never ending hills, and then it hit me. OMG where are the stores! Where is the mall, or a Target or even a gas station for Gods sake. I can’t remember having seen anything for miles and miles and miles except the occasional barn or mansion on the hill. And then slowly, creeping over the hills, I smelled it, like a bad fart stinking up a small crowded room the cow shit seemed to infuse every molecule of air surrounding me. I could not breath because it was everywhere, there was no where to go, no where to hide. I was stuck in the GOD DAMN COUNTRY. Now if all you like to do during the day is romp in the forest and connect with nature, if your idea of a good time is getting drunk and tipping over cows, and if you don’t mind living without the finer things in life or even the bare necessities (Target) then by all means COME OUT TO CULVER. The land of NOTHING.

I am sure it is a lovely place to visit, and if I was not forewarned by Ms. Ivy League to beware of the dangers below the surface then I would have come here and been sparkled by the quiet beauty of it all. But to live here, to ACTUALLY live here, I could not do it. I am a city girl and this would be a personal version of hell for me. As it is for Ms. Ivy League who is so much more than a city girl, she is a girl of the world.

And just when I think that I had braced myself enough, that I had resisted the beautifulness of the countryside, the gorgeous amounts of fresh air I then rounded a bend and saw the school and my jaw dropped and my heart skipped a beat and I was bombarded with a million little butterflies of happiness at is obvious charm, its simple elegant beauty. It was a well manicured mini Harvard all red brick, the grounds were superbly cultivated and my newly found hardened heart was in danger of falling in love again with the beauty of it all. So I did what any great friend would do. I looked that cute little fluffy bunny feeling in the eyes and beat it back with a club until it was bloody and lifeless. Taking a calming breath I put the car in drive and slowly drove up to her home newly confident in my ability to face her and tell her that YES I understand.

88th Birthday

Today was Grandpa’s Eighty Eight birthday and I could not be happier than conveniently being in town. I guess when you get to eighty eight birthdays mean less than they did when you were fifteen. I mean I can barely stand the fact that I am twenty nine moving onto thirty I honesty don’t feel like I am any older, I just have better stuff and I make more money. Other than that I feel pretty much the same. Grandpa however within the past three years has started to really look his age. This is a man who mows his own acre property, a man who lives alone and takes care of himself, a man who has no sign of showing that his mind is starting to fade away. I am happy that I have such a great relationship with my grandfather but I am also sad that I am getting old enough to really start to begin to grasp what it means to get old, to lose something that you used to have, and start to pine with the longing of being able to touch your toe to your nose.

My Depression

It is not widely known in my group of friends that still after a year and four months of suffering without my brother I am still depressed. However a select few are still there for me every time I want a shoulder to cry on. There are two camps with polarizing opinions. I have my tough love camp who tells me to get through it and over it, to stop complaining, to focus on the good in my life and to stop wallowing. They are the people I call when I need to get something done and cannot get my butt off the couch so I call them for their anti pep talk because it riles me up so much that they can be so heartless that the adrenaline kicks in usually enough for me to slide off the couch and into a puddle on the floor. At least I tried to move! These friends are my saviours when I know I need to move but cant on my own.

Then there are those very concerned people who give me a softer kind of love, who I feel really understand the situation, who have also had something HORRIBLE happen to them and therefore as one friend put it are in the super sucky “yea I also had a family member die a horrible death and there was nothing I could do about it” club.

Then there is the group that fits in neither of these categories, who I love but don’t talk about major issues with, who I can be around and try to pretend I am normal and I am not just a ticking time bomb, who when I am with them sometimes something inevitably slips out and we look at each other like I had just said I had a STD. I really try to keep my inside inside but sometimes the inside seeps out and I have to run home and tuck myself into bed until the wounds heal.

Wedding Website

I finally finished the wedding website today, well it is mostly finished. It was a little more difficult to get Mr. Rogue to write something about his groomsmen. Here is our conversation:

Me: “Don’t forget I really need you to finish your groomsmen descriptions for the website.”

Mr. Rogue: “OK, let me read the ones you wrote about the girls so we are consistent.”

Reads my descriptions

Mr. Rogue: “I can’t do that. It is WAY to girly.”

Me: “Well I can’t just leave it blank it would look dumb.”

Mr. Rogue: “I am not writing that kind of flowery crap for my friends its emasculating.”

Me: “Fine I will just put in Mr. Rogue thinks it is to girly to talk about his relationship with his groomsmen.”

Mr. Rogue: “That sounds perfect.”

Me: “You are such a manly jerk!”

Michigan: Cake For Breakfast, Flowers for Lunch

Again another busy day in Michigan attempting to get 19 hours worth of things done in a day. This morning Mr. Rogue and I left Mr. & Mrs. Bitch’s early so I could get Mr. Rogue to the airport and on his way back to sunny California. I will be staying an extra week attempting to wrap things up for the wedding, visiting a friend in Indiana and attending my cousins wedding next weekend.

After dropping Mr. Rogue off mom and I start on the wedding list. First of the day is an eight o’clock AM appointment with Mimi Cake Designs. We are looking over the designs he has and cake tasting. Yumm cake for breakfast. The man who owns Mimi’s was super polite and sweet and his designs were gorgeous. Although his price was a little high I kept him on the list because I know he would do a stellar job. Leaving with a tummy ache my mother and I swung by our second appointment to see Viviano’s a cake bakery that was not so stellar. The cakes did not taste as good and the designs were not as artistic. I think I will just go with Mimi’s but in considering the budget Viviano’s got to stay on the list. Dragging ourselves out of here with what felt like lead in my stomach we were off to meet the DJ.

There were no problems here and I just decided that in the essence of time we would just go ahead and book him. My mother had been to a few weddings where he was the dj and Penna’s my reception hall also recommended him.

Then we had to rush over to the meeting with the florist that we had originally decided on. Thankfully I had finally found the perfect inspiration photo just a few days ago for the florist. I was so excited when I found it because although had pulled some earlier inspirations, see here,
they were not exactly what I wanted and I was worried with the distance that I would not be able to work closely enough with her to get them perfectly how I wanted.

I felt like the florist I talked to really got me. We spent a while talking about the inspiration image and then another hour talking about all the flowers I wanted. Then we moved onto choosing which flowers specifically we would use and these choices also included similar flowers that could be replaced into the bouquet for cheaper than the originals. I did not even think about the fact that choosing flowers in season would make the cost a lot less and since I already mentioned to you that I was getting married on sweetest day any corners I could cut needed to be taken. In the end the flower estimate was still a fortune but I left happy that my next meeting with her when I came back in August for my shower to see the sample would be close to what I wanted.

Then we were off to look at 4 different hotels in the area so our out of town guests would have a block of discounted rooms to stay in for the wedding weekend. The first three were scary creepy and not so nice, thank god the fourth was almost exactly what we were looking for. Although the prices were a little higher than what we wanted at least the construction was new, it was clean, and it was central to all the events. A perfect fit. And a nice way to end the very busy day we had.

Michigan: Bra Napper's

Today I am in Michigan to handle a multitude of obligations, family and wedding. As every day when I am in the town of my birth I am pulled a million different directions by all the people that love me and just need a little while to catch up and say HI. Today I have to attend my sister-in-laws baby shower and help my mother with setting up and tearing down and then Mr. Rogue and I are going to go see the pastor for dinner to go over our first round of wedding counselling and then once we are done with dinner we ran over to Mr. + Mrs. Bitch for some attempted hanging out and R&R.

Mrs. Lambchop’s shower was beautiful and it was an absolute pleasure to see her glowing with her pregnancy. My mother and I were busy setting up the food and decorations, a finding Nemo themed party as she is having a boy and decided that that was the theme she was decorating the nursery in. I was the wrapping paper bitch which I was ok with, her sister got the better job of writing down the presents that people gave her. But I understand that I fall below sister in the women’s imaginary hierarchy, I was just glad to help. Unfortunately because I was the trash bitch I was unable to get any photos of the shower and I am still trying to find some, any of that day from someone who HAD to have had a camera.

I decided since my brother and his wife are still trying to find their feet to get them a more practical gift of a set of gift certificates that would give them Pampers for six months. That gift was a hit and greatly appreciated; I think I may to this for all the babies that come into my close nit friends and families lives.

After helping clean up the party I picked up Mr. Rogue and we were off to visit the pastor. We talked about everything under the sun, our goals, what we wanted out of life, how we communicated, I almost felt like it was a huge test and I was DESPERATE not to fail. Most of the questions ended up being pretty easy as Mr. Rogue and I are a bit older and we are already living together, most of the life questions were already taken care of. And the goals are something that we have talked a lot about, because a lot of that should be ironed out before the wedding. I was grateful to Mr. Italian for going through it all because I am sure some couples had not gone through everything like Mr. Rogue and I. Then he started going over how men and women do things which I thought was pretty interesting. It was more about how the psyche of a man and a woman differ. He related to life as a pie with many slices. There is a slice for work, play, chores, love, and children. He talked about how men work on one piece of the pie at a time for instance when he is at work he is not thinking about the kids at home or his spouse. He is concentrating on the work part of the pie. Once he leaves work and gets home then he will be in the home/kids/wife part of the pie. If he had a bad day at work when he leaves he can leave the feeling of the bad day because he is in a new piece of the pie. The two pieces don’t really mix, for men they are separate. For women however the pie pieces are treated as a whole. A woman can be at work and also be thinking about all pieces of the pie. If she has a bad day at work then it affects every piece of the pie, basically it screws up our whole day until we fix it.

I learned about how men and women think in psychology but I had never heard it put in such a simple way. After our sessions we went out for a long long long Italian meal and then after the meal by the time we dropped off the pastor and his wife and got to Mr. & Mrs. Bitch’s it was 11:00pm. Originally we had planned to go out on a night on the town but once we walked in the door Mrs. Bitch took one look at our bedraggled faces and as she handed me the bottle of Vodka she offhandedly suggested we just say in and drink our sorrows away.

After a VERY long night of drinking where in the end I blissfully blacked out I woke up half dressed on the den floor with a blanket draped over my shoulders. I made it to the bathroom and managed to find my husband before I passed out again to blissful sleep. When I woke again it was morning, I was ready to screech my fury but decided that it would do no good. I got up and put on my dress but I could not find my bra. I looked under the bed, all on the floor, I tore apart the bed thinking I may have taken it off in the night, it was NO WHERE to be found. I began to panic because I really did not want to tell my long lost friend, the one that I just got back together with, where I just met her husband last night, that I was so drunk that by the way I forgot where I put my bra and I cannot find it. Please help?

After 20 minutes of discreetly looking everywhere I finally caved and told Mrs. Bitch my embarrassing secret. We both combed the house and still it did not turn up. We all had a laugh, but I cannot help but wonder how much of a crazy alcoholic they must think I am if I cannot hold my shit together for one night. Damn that bra.

Reason Number #104

My mother just relayed this story and it was so traumatic to my psyche that I may NEVER have children. Remember mom this was your fault in telling me this and I will bring it up every time you get down on your knees and pray for grandchildren.
My brother Mr. Lambchop was a smart kid, a kid that was quiet and knew the exact right plan of attach to get what he wanted. I like to think of him as a quiet mastermind. I was the exact opposite, I took the more direct approach like taking a knife to your puppies throat to make you see things my way type of approach. Anyways mom was at the store with us kids in tow. Mr. Lambchop decided that he wanted something and when my mother said no he started to get angry, only it was a diabolical simmering pot kind of angry. Instead of throwing a tantrum he did what any mastermind child would do he tried to TRICK my mother into giving him what he wanted. He welled tears in his little eyes, looked straight at my mother and screamed in the middle of the store… “No mom, not again! DON’T BEAT ME!!!!!!!! I promise to be good! I promise I will try harder.”

My mortified mother just stood there as every eye within ‘child piercing scream’ distance could hear. Breaking out in a dry sweat my mother apologized for her demonized child and ran dragging us out of the store. Once outside she hunkered down to my brother’s level and stared into his scared angelic eyes and said… “If you ever do that again I will be the first one to call social services and make them take you away forever!”

Sometimes you need to break out the big guns in order to make your child, the one you spent 18 hours birthing and millions of day loving, shut the fuck up and show some respect.

10 Days of Pleasure

Today after months of talking and negotiating back and forth we have finally decided we are going to ARUBA for our honeymoon. In the end our decision was determined by multiple factors. It is hurricane season in the Caribbean so that is out, a hurricane on a honeymoon would be adventurous but to much so for me. Hawaii was a consideration but it is so close and there is so much that I would want to do when I got there since I have never been that we decided a trip of crazy sightseeing was not something that would be good for this particular trip. We were originally turned on to the option of Aruba by my parents who have traveled all across the world and have dubbed it one of their most favourite places anywhere. When I called our family’s travel club I found out that not only could we get a trip for a discount it is also less expensive than what we have in the budget so we could go for a longer stay. We were also offered the choice to stay at the Occidental Grand which is the exact same place my parents stayed at. I felt that after a few months of struggling for things that we wanted this one thing was being surprisingly easy to pull together. So we called and booked it today, in a few months I will be married and sipping a frosty pina colada on the beach as a MRS.

Emotional Eater

I decided to take a nutrition class for multiple reasons. First I believe that knowledge is power and in order to understand how to lose weight and maintain a healthy lifestyle I need to get out of the dieting cycle which is working about as well as a car with breasts. Also I am interested in continuing to learn and I have always been very interested in nutrition. And lastly Mr. Rogue is in his “crunch time I will not see you or the light of day for four months” mode, so I have a lot of free time, free time that is better spent DOING SOMETHING then sitting at home fixated on when I will get to see him again. I find I am much more able to handle everything and keep my shit together if I am busy.

I am not happy with my weight, there have been many emotional issues that have happened recently and I have found out in that time that I am an emotional eater. Also because I sit at a desk for eight hours a day and in the car for two hours a day we now add up my sitting time to at least 11 hours a day. Let’s say it together EWWWWWWWW! So I am using the wedding to motivate me to really work on losing the weight. I plan on teaching myself about fitness, nutrition, and to find a plan that I can live with and that will keep me healthy. And if that does not work then I am going to open up a clinic where patients are injected with the common cold and kept on bed rest until the amount of weight they want to lose is melted off. I will be my first client.

Pushing Children

I want to think that I won’t be one of those parents that puts her kid in every kind of extracurricular activity and just let kids be kids, but sadly I think I will be one of those moms. I will be the mom that super prepares her child for everything because I believe that children are too coddled and should learn as many things as they can to get a leg up. Now don’t get me wrong I don’t want to suck all the fun out of life, I just want to make sure that energy is directed in a way that allows a little person to continue to grow and move forward. It is all about balance. I don’t think that the US children are balanced. You either get the elite of society giving their children every opportunity and then you get the lower class that are able to only give the bare minimum of guidance. I don’t want to end up with a child who watches TV twenty four hours a day, I don’t want a child that plays video games all the time, I don’t want a young adult who moves away to college not knowing how to balance a check book, what APR means, and how to cook a full balanced meal. There is a lot that needs to be taught that I think parents are not being responsible to prepare their children.
Putting kids in sports, dance, music, working on academia, working on social skills seems like a lot to ask but we have given kids a lot more in the past. One hundred years ago a child the age of 12 was considered an adult who could start apprenticing at a full time job. Now I don’t suggest that we have our 12 year olds start full time work but I do believe that added responsibility can only help to push the child in the right direction.
So I think we infantilize our children to an extent and then poof we expect them to be able to be functioning adults. For example our kids can sign up for the army and die at 18 but they can’t have made a decision to have a drink at a bar. I think that is a very powerful message. We don’t know if you should have a drink but here is a rifle?
Also in our society do we help our intelligent kids to be more antisocial when we excuse them from sports or from chores so they can spend more time studying or working on a AP Biology project.
These are things I am worrying about. So many ideas.