Catch-up

Well, I finally got around to getting a haircut.  I haven't even had a trim since the wedding last year!  In an attempt to let my awesome grey grow out, I had to lop off about six inches!  I really was sad to part with my long hair, but, as they say, it'll grow...

So, what do you think? I was going for a more Alexa Chung look, but I'd have to lose about 500 pounds and start smoking, so it's kinda leaning into soccer mom territory...

P.S. Isn't Ruby so cute curled up on the chair...?

Humdinger.

New mantra to go with the new job:

Because resolutions are gonna be few and far between....

Via Etsy.

Rough Day

Early in the morning yesterday we took Ruby to get spayed.
I'd been trying to prepare myself for leaving her there all day.

I didn't do very well.

I was a blubbering, sniffling, puffy-eyed mess.
Ruby was just fine, the vet did an excellent job.

But now Ruby gets to rock an infernal cone collar,
oh, excuse me, an "Elizabethan Collar,"
for at least a week.

She
is
SO
miserable.

I'm tearing up again.

Oh, P.S., I promise to have that enchilada recipe up tomorrow!

Today...

...I'm getting married!

And it's raining cats and dogs...
And our reception is outside!
No biggie.
!
!
!
Be back in a week!

Final Countdown

This is my last Monday as an unmarried woman...
And we still have soooooooooo much to do for Saturday!

Photo via OnceWed.

Yellow Shoe Contingency Plan

So remember how I told you when I get stressed I get shoes?
That's true.
x3.

All from Endless, because is there really any other way to ship than overnight??

Serenity Now...Like, Right Now

Before all of this crazy wedding stuff started complicating our lives, Shug and I complicated our lives with plans of trips to pretty alright places. Sometimes these pretty alright places had pretty alright bands playing there. This was a bonus.

We'd purchase our plane tickets six months in advance, usually in the smogged-in winter months, when just an image of a fresh-cut mango could carry us through an entire freezing week.

We'd plan, re-plan, scrap those plans and plan again. The details of where to go, how to get there, where to stay, and (most importantly) what to eat were discussed ad nauseam. It was exhilarating!

We are now currently preoccupied with colored tissue paper, table rentals, and helium prices. What happened to us?

Now before I continue wallowing in the luxurious waters of self pity, I will remind you and myself, that I am supremely lucky to be headed to the altar with a man that I believe is the closest thing to perfection...well, other than gluten-free ice cream pies, but I digress...

I realize that I live in a country where throwing a party to celebrate a "marriage" is still not allowed for all couples that wanna get hitched and have it recognized by the government. I also realize that throwing a lavish party, in and of itself, is kinda gross in the midst of a recession...Granted our wedding is going to bottom-line at a THIRD of what the average American spends on nuptial celebrations, but, still...

I think that this wedding planning has been a true litmus test for our relationship. We've already experienced each other ridiculously happy, crap-your-pants ill, boiling mad, and downtroddenly sad...But we've never had to coordinate, decision-make, or discuss so many things in such a truncated amount of time.

Add the pressure of spending moolah in amounts beyond our comfort level and navigating the waters of what each family needs and you've got yourself a certified-relationship-fortitude-test!

I'll let you know if we pass.

Boy Crush - Continued!!

I had an epiphany last night while watching David Letterman (I still think he's the jam, even with Conan on the scene now), Tim Gunn and the Coop would make the BEST couple on planet Earth!

I mean, the mind boggles at the power pairing of TWO silver foxes, but I do believe that it remains within the realm of my comprehension...Even if it is the outer limits of said comprehension.

Search no more, I have found the perfect man for Tim.

P.S. Project Runway starts on August 20th! A glorious wedding present, indeed.

Image via Becka'sBlog.

Oh, flowers...I forgot about you...

Shug's mom and I went flower shopping for the "Big Day" yesterday.
I think because it's now deemed the "Big Day" instead of the "Let's-Just-Have-a-Good-Time-and-Not-Worry-About-the-Details-Day"
is the reason I had a panic attack when asked how many tables we would be seating.
Yes, I broke into a cold sweat and immediately suffered from vertigo when asked this simple question...I also forgot about my place in the space-time continuum and got a parking ticket for letting the meter run dry...
And, to be honest, I STILL don't know how many effing tables we're seating.
Gulp.

Images via OnceWed.

Boy Crush

I lovelovelove this little piece on taste...!

Like I said...Edward is a STALKER!

I already know that I am creating SO many haters by even QUESTIONING Twilight and Edward's awesomeness...But, c'mon, he is pretty creepy, physical, and pushy...All the things we need to watch out for in social predators. I mean, he IS a predator! As in: human blood is his brekkie.

Plus, Buffy is so rad it's not even funny. I love how this little clip exposes how messed up Edward and Whats-Her-Face's relationship is...

And that's why champagne fixes EVERYTHING....

So I am at the midpoint between recovering from my Sissy's nuptials and extreme panic setting in for my very own wedding. Chronologically speaking, I am about six weeks from being a Mrs. and a mere six weeks ago I was Maid of Honor.

That old saying, "the devil is in the details," couldn't be more infuriatingly true! Shug and I hammered out all of the big stuff back while there was still snow on the ground...Ceremony and reception sites, caterer, our photographer, and my dress were all decided upon rather early in the game...But with just a little over a month to go and we still haven't: made our invitations, figured out decorations, booked a bakery for our cake, picked out flowers with the florist, purchased guest gifts, finalized the guest LIST....Dude. And there's a LOT more of these stinkin' "details!"

We have sosososososo much to do. And due to this fact, I'm perusing pics from S.'s beautiful day to distract myself from gouging out my own eyeball with a rolled up stack of Post-It notes with tons of "reminders" for the big day.

But look at S.!!! There is no denying she was luminous!

And what was the most important lesson she taught me for dealing with your wedding day? Champagne for breakfast is not a bad idea.

S. is truly a genius.

Eleven Word Biography: 6.30.09

Dearest Ruby has decided pooping in her crate is a-ok. Imbroglio.

Sun...finally!

Happy Sunday!
I like to use my Sundays to catch up on some reading.
Right now I'm engrossed with We Were the Mulvaneys.
I don't care that it was made into a made-for-tv-movie.
It's good.

I also like to try to avoid the panic that is setting in about certain someones getting married.
In.
Two.
Months.

Photo via Lolita SE.

Ok, here's another...

I'm looking frazzled because Ruby HATES her crate at night...
I feel so mean just leaving her in there!
Photo courtesy of Haigen.

Get this in your life so I can come over and visit it....

How ridiculously awesome is this couch?!?!

We don't have the space or the cheddar...so get on this people!!!
Found on KSL for $750 or best offer (!!!)

Make this happen.
I need to live vicariously!

Don't let this couch go to the wrong home!

BBQ Review

Marking the 3-week point of Shug and I being in our first home, we thought it was about time to throw a little housewarming party. Since the Utah weather seemed like it was going to comply with our plans, we thought a "BYO-grilling item and beverage gathering" to be our best bet.

We also had to include "BYO-chair," since we definitely didn't have enough spots for people to park it! The lack of chairs actually turned out to be a great motivator for people to sprawl out on the grass with their drinks and dinner, lazily talking and dining with each other.

Shug and I realized that this was a bit of a test-run for our rehearsal dinner, which will take place in BBQ form, no less, in said backyard. Here are a few vital points we learned from our first BBQ:

• ALWAYS turn off the damn sprinklers...You might think peeps would be outta the backyard at 2am...Not so.
• We need more grill space! Man can and will live off meat alone and he is not going to waste his time on all the healthy side dishes. MEAT ONLY, please.
• Some people are really just going to subsist on liquid calories, so no need to make enough sweet potato salad for an entire marching band, we could have been fine with just enough for the brass section. (More on this later!)
  
• More twinkling lights = more better!
• Let folks mix their own delicious drinks or have a big-daddy pitcher of premixed of drinks ready to go! We missed out on some great conversations because we were busy mixing!
  
• Always make dessert, because even the liquid calorie folks will need a little somthin'-somthin'!

I did get a few requests for the roasted sweet potato salad recipe, so I thought I'd post it! I'd love to hear how the recipe worked for you!

Roasted Sweet Potato Salad

Serves 4-6 depending on the level of sweet potato love.

Ingredients:
6 pounds garnet sweet potatoes (these are the darker pinkish-orange kind, waaaay better!)
3 tablespoons olive oil
4 tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons honey or maple syrup if you're vegan:)
1/4 cup fresh squeezed orange juice (about the equivalent to the juice of one monster orange)
Grip of fresh chives
Pinch or more of red pepper flakes depending on your heat tolerance
Salt and pepper to taste

Prep time:
Preheat your oven to 425. Scrub the potatoes clean and cut off any weirdness. Then dice into 1 to 1.5 inch cubes. (Go ahead and leave the skin on if you want to, since there are more vitamins and fiber in the skin!) I've found the skin also helps the cubes keep their shape and not get all mushy and weird after you roast them.

Toss the cubes with a squidge of the olive oil and salt and pepper on a thick cookie sheet. Make sure there is only one layer of cubes and there is a little breathing room so they will roast and not steam. You'll probably need two or three cookie sheets to accommodate your potato party. Roast for 20 minutes, with a rotation and a stir at the halfway mark. Watch these little guys, because they can go from raw to burned in an instant...Trust me, I know.

While the potatoes are roasting, in a large bowl, combine the OJ, remaining olive oil, mustard, crushed red pepper, and honey or maple syrup. Cut the chives to they are like confetti, but we'll add them after the potatoes, so they don't get all mushed.

After the potatoes are tender when you stab them with a knife, scrape them and all of the pan juices into the large bowl that you have prepped with the dressing. (Don't worry if some of the edges are charred, this adds to the awesome flavor of the salad!) Give it a good mix and then add a little more salt and pepper to taste. Mix in most of the chives but reserve a little for garnish!

You can serve this warm, at room temp, or cold! This is awesome for BBQs since there isn't any mayo or other grossness to poison your guests!

I'd love to hear how you spent your weekend!

GOOP Rant

Okay. So, I've always disliked Gwyneth Paltrow. There is something about her aristocratic air, extremely long neck, and pink-ballroom-gown-at-the-Oscars I never could get around. She seems to use an accent not unlike the screen sirens of the forties and fifties, a mix between over-enunciation and a British tweak. This bugs me. And she also takes her self and fashion sense way to seriously...She once called herself an icon. Rule #1 for becoming/being/staying an icon: You NEVER refer to yourself as an icon...let the little people you dazzle with your accessory choices do it for you!!

When her weekly emails started up in the form of GOOP, her name choice not mine, I, of course, signed right up. Her emails started around the recession-infused holidays and she was sending out "proper gift ideas" that included leather gloves from Hermes for a cool $1500 and a wine subscription at only $100 a month. Her outfit suggestions to make ANY ol' dame fabulous are from Tod's, Alaia, Stella McCarney, and Prada. I know having Coldplay constantly in your life can cause the equivalent of a frontal lobotomy, but she MUST have a few interns that type and proof her crap?!?

But maybe, maybe they are just like me and want to chip away at the ivory tower of righteousness Gwyneth has been perched on since the mid-nineties. Their chisel - her asinine disconnection from the proletariat, their hammer - her mass emails with the dumbest pastel butterfly logo in history.

I support your valiant efforts.

Honeymoon Contenda

Paris??
Pourquoi pas? C'est l'idylle!

Broken Bird

Yesterday afternoon, I was headed back from a fruitful day at thrifting and Shug called me to let me know a bird had flown into our back glass door and looked a little out of it.

When I got home, the bird had flapped its way over to the corner of our yard and wouldn't move. I thought/hoped/kidded myself that it was probably just stunned and needed a little time to chill out before it collected its birdie wits and flew away.

Three hours later the poor thing was still parked in the same spot and when I tried to scare it to see if it could fly, its wing stuck out at an absolutely broken angle. Crisis.

I Googled "Triage for Broken Birds" or something to that effect and was directed to a Wildlife Rehabilitation Specialist here in town. Girlfriend was not only a Wildlife Rehabilitation Specialist, but also a Royal Bitch. Apparently, the county had recently cut funding for Wildlife Rehab due to the recession, and although she thought this bird was in peril and needed care, she was just NOT going to assist me with my "situation." Then she hung up on me. Thanks. 'Preesheatecha!

Shug and his razor sharp powers of deduction thought to drop the bird off at the local Aviary. This should make sense, since an aviary is a bird refuge, sanctuary, place where bird specialists usually hang out, etc.

We drove the bird over there only to be met with wide-eyed perplexity...THEY couldn't take an injured bird, not even if it's a mourning dove, an indigenous migratory bird on the State's protected species list! Sorry, but they only specialize in shilling cotton candy, guided tours, and bird pamphlets! How SILLY for us to think they would take an injured bird off our hands!

The damn sun was setting on our good intentions to help this broken dove. I was told that I needed to drop the bird off at the State Department of Wildlife Resources, but it was pushing 9pm and the offices had closed hours before the start of our escapade.

I put the dove in the garage with the birdseed left over from Sissy's wedding. Shug had decided the bird "had better live" since we'd already driven around town without resolution.

I was terrified that the dove would die overnight, so this morning I couldn't bring myself to open its little box to see if it was alive. I called Shug at work to see if he had opened the box before he left for work...The bird had been alive when he'd checked on it. That was good enough!

I drove the box with the hopefully-still-living dove out to the Department of Wildlife Resources. And wouldn't you know THEY aren't in the injured bird business either!!!!!!! I was getting a little down about the situation and the probably-dead-bird I was toting around town, but the dove must have sensed my defeat at that moment and decided to attempt to escape from her box. I might be a city-girl, but dead doves usually don't try to escape from boxes with holes poked in them!

I was given a phone number and a kick in the ass out the door. Gross! An injured bird?!?! How could I even THINK to bring that into the office of Wildlife Resources. What kind of idiot does something like that?!?

I called the quickly scribbled number and the oldest, crackliest, smoker's voice answered. This man lived waaaaaaay out on the West side and took in injured birds out of the kindness of his bird-loving heart. Did he get compensation from the State? No. Did he ask for compensation from the people dropping off the birds in peril? No. Did he have the longest fingernails I've ever seen? Yes.

He carefully opened the box while about a hundred birds squawked and tweeted and pooped in cages behind him. The little dove looked up at both of us, nestled carefully in her paper towels.

Crisis averted.