Happy Halloween!

We went to our good friends' annual Halloween party last weekend. Here's our costumes.

Link from The Legend of Zelda


Max from Where the Wild Things Are

What are you going to be this year?

Validation

We've discussed our most bizarre fears here before. My number one fear being that someone will jump to their death from a tall building, landing on passerby me, swiftly killing us both. It's an elaborate fear. And also a plausible fear. Which is why my pulse goes up a notch when I walk past buildings with more than five floors. There's another fear I have held close since childhood. A fear of walking on grates in parking lots and on sidewalks. When I was a kid, it was because I believed Cookie Monster lived down there. (What kid is afraid of a Sesame Street character?) But as an adult, it's because I'm afraid that the grate will crumble beneath me, plunging me to my smelly sewery death. Ridiculous? I don't think so. And neither does this Baltimore man who plunged about 15 feet underground after the metal grate he was walking over collapsed. Validation is a satisfying, yet terrifying thing, people. Watch out for those grates. And for Cookie Monster. He'll cut you for a snickerdoodle. He really will.

Repeating Myself: 12 Steps

The following post originally appeared on my blog in May 2008, when my readership was practically nonexistent. I think the amusement factor is high enough to warrant a little rerun. And that's not at all pompous of me to say because the funny belongs to Andrew.

I think every young woman goes through a stage where she is extremely hung up on someone who is completely wrong for her. Whether he* breaks her heart one too many times or just doesn't treat her like the gem she truly is, for some reason she is unable to see this. She pines for him. She cries for him. And then one day, she meets the man who is everything she has ever dreamed of and so much more. The man who gives her pink unicorn piñatas and writes her love songs about being a panda from the sea. The man who makes her laugh so hard, she shoots hot chocolate out her nose on their first real date. The man who makes her forget about all former heart aches. The best thing to ever happen to her... her soul mate.

Today I am looking through old e-mails from when boyfriend and I began dating. He waited for me when I was hung up on someone else and when I said I wasn't ready for a serious relationship. He waited and waited... and then one day... I came to my senses. I count my blessings every day that he stuck around! Below is an excerpt from one of his many hilarious and wonderfully adorable e-mails:

12/21/06

...Railing tequila shots with my parents and watching fireworks by the ocean, pretty spectacular stuff. Plus we saw this really weird animal down there that I became obsessed with. It's sort of like a groundhog with a weirder tail and stripes I think, but it can jump 7 feet straight up in the air, which, just admit it, is (expletive) terrifying. We called it the dik-dik, after another weird animal I saw in a zoo somewhere one time, but the Mexican thing was actually an agouti. Anyway, I'm rambling now. You know why? Because I miss you. And I have a huge little crush on you. 2007 is the year we take over the city, Ryan and I have already decided. Pittsburgh is ripe for a brat pack type of 20 somethings to knock the city on its ass, and really show it a good time. That sounded more aggressive than I meant it to, and I'm sorry. I'm going through the 12 stages of Amanda withdrawal.

The first one was denial, when I thought I could totally deal with it. (wrong) The second stage is having to pee all the time, for some reason, and I had that last night. Although it could have been from the drinking. The third stage, and the one I'm suffering through now is when you wear two unmatched socks to work and feel like a jerk because your mind is too consumed by Amanda-ish thoughts to process whether or not the socks you're holding even match. The fourth stage, which I'll probably hit later tonight, is pretty serious, and that's talking about the things you like about Amanda when she's not even around. Like, telling total strangers. Lunacy, right? The fifth stage, I don't even want to talk about. It's lice. You literally get lice, from out of nowhere. Spontaneous lice. Terrible, I know. And then the sixth stage is equally offensive, but you're halfway home so it's almost easier to deal with. The sixth stage is voting Republican, which fortunately due to the timing, isn't something I need to worry about right now. If this had happened last month though, shit. I don't know if many people have survived the seventh stage because it's really, really hard to deal with. YOU LOSE YOUR SENSE OF TASTE! Okay? Well you don't lose it so much as it gets horribly transformed, so that everything you eat tastes bad and weird. So a few days from now, when I get to this stage and I want to eat Mom's delicious Christmas dinner, it will taste like old newspaper and fleas. I hate that. It's just gross. Stage eight makes it dangerous to drive, because you have to wear sunglasses all the time, even at night. I don't know why, it's just the way it is. Probably so no one can see you crying like a baby. The ninth stage is weird, and probably something you can relate to. Everything smells like maple syrup, all the time. You could stick your snoot right into a delightful spring bouquet of flowers, and instead only smell the blasted syrup. It's nice for like an hour, at breakfast, IF YOU'RE EATING PANCAKES. But it makes the rest of the day unbearable, so horrible that it almost makes you long for the tenth stage, WHICH KILLS YOU! You're dead for a week! And then you wake up to stage eleven, where you find out everyone else is dead too, and the world is now ruled by sentient squid! Oh the horror! Squid are telling you what to do! Squid is the boss of you! And they wear little outfits and telepathically tease you about your two stupid arms and your dumb hair. How dreadful. So you suffer in some savage work camp, doing the squids' nefarious bidding for what seems like an eternity until finally, thank Christ, you hit stage twelve. Which is when Amanda comes home, and makes you better feeling.

So that's that. That's how I feel, wish me luck...

Wow! I just love this guy so much! I am so lucky he survived the squid!



*Masculine pronoun used for convenience. Please substitute with feminine pronouns where necessary!

I just can't hold this in any longer

Nothing to see here...

Move along.

Describes us perfectly...

And in a good way...



From Exploding Dog

What does this say about my blog?

That suddenly all I want to blog about is my dog's poop?

Just a quick update. Luke pooped an earplug yesterday. An orange ear plug. It kind of dyed the rest of poop orange in a swirly pattern. I told Andrew it was like tie-dye.

Thanks for reading! I hope I'm really enriching all of your lives.

Love,
The Dog Poop Blogger

Do you see this face?

Oh, sure he might look all sweet an innocent like he could never do any wrong. But don't trust him, folks! He's a maniac!

Luke was having some ... um... how do I put this delicately... butt licking problems... the week of our wedding. The wonderful woman who previously fostered Luke before we adopted him offered to watch our boy while we were busy getting married, so she took him to the vet for us. They ... oh boy... um... "expressed his glands" (sorry! I really didn't mean for this to be such a graphic post!) and sent him home with a strict order to eat more fiber.

Well, we picked him up after returning from the honeymoon only to find him still very irritated and uncomfortable. We took him to the vet the next morning and they tested him for a bacteria infection. The vet said he must have got into something he shouldn't have. To which I replied, "Oh, I bet it was either that dead animal I had to pull out of his mouth a few weeks ago or all that garbage he ate!"

See people? This is not the face of an angel. This is a dead-animal-garbage-eating- monster.

We also had the vet check him for a thyroid disorder, as all his shedding has me worried. Greyhounds are not supposed to shed much at all, but tell that to the tumbleweeds of fur rolling around on our wood floors. The vet was very skeptical, saying he was probably shedding due to stress. (Stress? Um, lady, Luke doesn't exactly live a stressful lifestyle. He eats, poops, and sleeps. That's really about it.)

The thyroid function test came back to reveal that our boy has hypothyroidism and has to take two little blue pills every day for the rest of his life. The low thyroid hormone levels explain his shedding, bald belly, and low energy level. The vet told us to expect a noticeable change in his energy level on the meds.

Oh boy, we notice.

We came home yesterday to find my loofah shredded into a thousand pieces and poop on the rug and (i kid you not) poop smeared on the walls. I really don't know how he managed to do that. It's almost impressive.

What? You pooped in the refrigerator? And you ate the whole... wheel of cheese? How'd you do that? Heck, I'm not even mad; that's amazing. How 'bout we get you in your p.j.'s and we hit the hay.

The Rehearsal Ensemble

There was one slight hiccup the night of the rehearsal. We realized we had no idea where the marriage license had gone. I had it in a box with other things I needed to take to the church with me that evening, but on the way to the dinner, I realized it was not where I had left it.

I panicked and my mood at the rehearsal dinner suffered. Here's a photo of me trying to pretend I was not about to morph into a raging lunatic, with my calm and collected husband to be. Isn't he adorable?

Some wedding photos

Practicing my trek down the aisle with my dad at the rehearsal


Trying to kill time before heading to the church, I ask my MOH, "Am I allowed to unload the dishwasher on my wedding day?"


Putting on the finishing touches as I get ready in the ladies' parlor at the church


Married! Bubbles! Kisses!


First dance as husband and wife (You are the Best Thing by Ray LaMontagne)


Sneaky shot of me and Andrew outside of the reception taken by wedding guest


Me and my lovely maid of honor Brianna


And of course there was much showmanship and dancing

More photos to come.

XOXO

HITCHED!

It's official! We're married!


Photos to come upon our return from our honeymoon in the Riviera Maya!
Be well!

The dresses

Not mine! You can't see that until after the wedding, silly heads.

Here's the color and fabric that all of my attendants will be wearing... in the dress style of their own choosing.



Dress by Jordan.

Ah! They're going to look so pretty!

A favor for the birds

We had initially intended on donating money to either the American Heart Association or the American Cancer Society in lieu of wedding favors. I think of favors as junky clutter that people either leave behind or throw away upon returning home. However, when I stumbled across these favors on Etsy, I changed my tune. Favors for everyone!


You're welcome, little birdies. (Personalized tag included.)

Favors by 2birdsinlove on Etsy.

My Bridal Shower

For day two of our wedding week, I'd like to share some photos from my bridal shower. Andrew's family and my bridal party put together such a beautiful party for me. With yummy food, fun games, great guests, and amazingly generous gifts (*cough* Kitchen Aid Mixer *cough*), I was sad to see the afternoon end.



We played a game where I had to try to guess Andrew's answers to questions such as "What animal would you compare Amanda to?" Some of his answers really had me laughing.



For every question I got wrong, I had to put a piece of gum in my mouth.



Out of 20 questions, I got seven wrong.



The bubble gum was Bubblicious. Each piece is HUGE. So you can imagine how hard it was to get all seven pieces in my mouth... There may have even been some drooling...



The wad... kinda looks like a brain.



My pretty "bowquet" skillfully assembled by my future sister-in-law and bridesmaid, Jessica.



And the cake was legendary. Some guests said they would still be thinking about that cake weeks later. It involved chocolate and cheesecake and some other yummy things I can't remember. It was Very Rich. Even a chocolate lover like myself could only eat a few small bites before entering sugar coma heaven.



And my half of the wedding party. From left to right, future sister-in-law Jessica, me, my sister Lindsey, and my rockstar maid of honor Brianna. Shake your tailfeathers, ladies!

It's Here! Wedding Week!

I'm getting married this week! How crazy is that?

This is a good time to let you in on some more wedding details.

A sample of the invitation we used, designed by Michelle Brusgaard (like many of our other wedding-related stationary). Visit her Etsy shop, Made By Michelle Brusgaard (MBMB). Her calling cards were featured in an issue of Real Simple. She's going to be big time, kids. This won't surprise you when you see her fabulous designs.





I love the simplicity of this design. There aren't a million little pieces floating around in the envelope. No frills. And it fits our taste (and not to mention wedding theme) perfectly.

When I showed my grandma, she asked, "Who is Jesse?" Oh, boy.

Third Time Is A Charm & Tales From A Babyfaced Bride

Last night my mom and I went shopping for *gasp* a rehearsal dinner dress. I ended up hating the way the brown one fit when it arrived in the mail. I just didn't want to bore you with the details. Because, honestly? I'M BORED WITH IT. Dress shopping is not my favorite thing. I'll post a picture of the new one post-honeymoon.

While we were out, my mom and I stumbled upon this beautiful wrap in the window of an Asian shop. I only could tell it was beaded and predominantly blue. When we asked the store clerk to show us, I yelled, "OH MY GOD!"

YOU GUYS? It has two peacocks beaded on it. Really beautiful, not tacky like it might sound. My mom bought it for me to wear at the reception, as I'm always freezing. Especially in those ballroom type of settings. So now, I'm going to be beaded, beautiful, and warm! Yay!

But here's what I really wanted to tell you about our trip to the mall. Both of the people who helped us, the woman at the Asian store and the woman at Macy's where we bought my dress, were stunned to hear the things were for my upcoming wedding. In fact, the woman at Macy's asked which school's dance the dress was for. HA!

At the Asian store, a man behind the register said he would have guessed I was 16 or 17. I do not understand this. If I look 16 now... how old did I look when I WAS 16? 7?

I know everyone says, "BE HAPPY THAT YOU LOOK SO YOUNG! YOU ARE GOING TO REALLY LOVE THAT WHEN YOU ARE MIDDLE AGED!" Well, guess what? If you tell me that, I'm probably going to have thoughts of punching you in the mouth. I want to look mature and womanly for my wedding. I want to stop being mistaken for a student at work and start being treated like the professional publicist that I am.

Hey, TLC's "Ten Years Younger"... can you work your magic in the other direction for me? That would make me look my actual age. Thanks.

Love,
Mermanda