An update. (Get it while you can, 'cause it might not be coming again anytime soon. Sad but true.)


Oh how I have neglected you!

See, mostly what I did here was vent my frustration. (Well, I'd like to think maybe I did a bit more than that...but, no, in all honesty, probably mostly just the venting.) And with the wedding planning, there was plenty of frustration. Lately, not so much.

And I was bored with blogging. Truly, I was. And maybe still am. I haven't decided yet.

But, in case anyone is still listening, here's a brief update.

The wedding went fabulously. I finished all my crafty tasks, everyone was great and helpful, everything was beautiful, etc, etc. It was great and fun and I was pretty damn relaxed for the whole thing.

Yes, at one point I zoned out, apparently transfixed by the ring I had just placed on Fiance's finger, and I forgot to do the whole repeat-after-the-minister thing. And then, when I realized I needed to say something, I couldn't do it without laughing at myself. But, hey, that just added character and personality to the ceremony, right?

And the DJ sucked. A lot. Really. But Husband (because by then I was married!) was much more concerned by that than I was.

And my one cousin, who is 21 or 22, threw a fit about not sitting by her parents at the dinner. She was with all the other similarly-aged cousins at a table. So one of my aunts switched with her and sat with the kids. Sigh. Oh well. I actually expected something worse from her because she is a very me-me-me diva sort.

Oh, and my lovely Husband misplaced his bag of stuff to take on the honeymoon. Following the reception, instead of going straight to the lovely honeymoon suite, we drove all around Bloomington looking for the place he left his bag. Friend's hotel room? No. Parents car? No. Friend's car parked at hotel? No. Car left in church parking lot by other friend? Ding! We have a winner.

The honeymoon was great, too. We did New Hampshire, Maine, and Vermont. It was awesome. I want to move there. Now. There was lots of eating out, lots of walking around scenic little streets, plenty of history, and a little bit of beach. And, um, some other stuff, too, of course.

Being married is great, in that pretty much nothing has changed. We'd been together for four years and lived together full-time for two, so there weren't really any surprises.

Of course, now people keep sendind us mail to "Mr. and Mrs. Hisfirst Hislast," or even worse just "Mrs. Hisfirst Hislast," and it makes me want to scream. And over the holidays my mother-in-law did some totally unnecessary heavy hinting about incubating her some more grandchildren. (No, she didn't actually say "incubating," that's just what I hear in my head.)

My sister-in-law had another kid. Another girl.

Um, and that's about it for the news!


A conversation with my Metra conductor, who is the best Metra conductor ever...

"Well, this is the last day you'll see me for awhile."

"Why's that?"

"I have to take a few days off to go and get married."

"Really?...Naw! Really?!"

"Yup. We're doing it this weekend."

"Wow! Really?...He's a lucky guy! Who is he?"

"[Fiance's name]."

"Wow! Well you tell [Fiance's name] he stole you from me!"

"Well, have a good week!"

"Oh, now you have a good week...And good luck!"



Fiance has a new job! Yay!

Now we can get back to our lives of semi-conspicuous consumption.


But we will be going out to dinner to celebrate.

Mostly, this makes me happy because I can register for more serving dishes and such now because we will be able to afford to buy a cabinet/buffet/whatever to put them in. (Our kitchen is sorely lacking in storage space.) Is that ridiculous or what?

Fiance seems to be pretty excited about this place. He thinks the people he'll be working with seem really cool. And he already knows one of them pretty well because the guy worked at the place Fiance interned at last year.


In other news...I'm having marriage/identity issues lately. I have no concerns about getting married and spending my life with Fiance. None at all. But I have all sorts of issues with asserting independence and being "annexed" onto his family. I'm taking his last name, which I'm actually a little iffy about, but it's more important to him than to me, I think. But I will scream if anyone ever calls me "Mrs. Hisfirst Hislast." Truly. It will be bloodcurdling. I am taking his last name, not his first name, thank you ever so much. Also, his family keeps making these (supremely annoying) "Then you'll be one of us" jokes. Um, no. I will not be. I will still be one of me. Thank you. We are becoming our own family, I am not leaving mine and joining yours. Ugh.

Also, while on the topic of things that drive me crazy...I will scream if one more person asks me (in regards to the upcoming wedding, of course) "Is your mom excited?" (or "Wow, your mom must be excited!"). Um, yeah, just as excited as the rest of my family. I hate the inane assumption that just because I'm the bride and she's the mother of the bride, we must be running around in a tulle-induced tizzy with some sort of above-and-beyond-excitedness about the wedding. Um, no. I am not really a wedding-crazed person. And neither is my mother. She didn't even plan her own wedding, really. So yeah, she's happy about it all. So is my dad, my sister, my brother, my other brother, etc. Mom isn't going all crazy-nutso about it, though. Ick.

Okay, enough, the end.


Blah, blah, blah...

It is so freaking hot out. So hot, in fact, that it makes the prospect of coming to the (blissfully over-air-conditioned) office every day seem like a treat.

The apartment is sweltering, seeing as the management company hauled the AC unit out of the window last fall and left it on our back porch to gather rain, dirt, bugs, and what I believe may actually be urine from one of horrible upstairs neighbor's drunken male friends. We went out for dinner last night just to go somewhere with AC. The cat spends all of her time laying on the bathroom floor--because that is the only tile we have--preferable actually underneath the toilet, which apparently is also nice and cool.

Last night it never got below 80 degrees. And the humidity. And--OH MY GOD I'm getting married in 11 days.

That's right folks. Eleven days. Holy shit. I'm not nervous about getting married, though I am a bit nervous about the whole "wedding event." But, jesus, it's surreal.

Oh, and oh my god times two: Last night Fiance's mother, pretty much out of the blue, asked him if I liked her. What? What? Are you insane? (Well, maybe...) It was on the phone, but I was right there in the same room as him, so there was no way I wouldn't know what was happening. Of course, he told her yes. No matter what the truth had been, duh, he'd have to say yes. Why would she ask that? Bizarre. Plus, hello, I've been around for over four years now...why would you choose now to ask? I mean, whatever, it doesn't bother me or anything. I actually think it's kind of funny. But mostly just insane.


Post number 400! Woohoo!

I know it's exciting, but, please, try not to hyperventilate.

Anyway...I recently started reading The Lost Continent by Bill Bryson. My aunt, the one here in Evanston, loaned me this and another Bryson book about two and a half years ago. The covers really didn't look that appealing, so I hadn't read them. But earlier this week, I was scouring the apartment for a book to read on the commute, one that wasn't about Led Zeppelin or the Indiana University Hoosiers (which, although both fine topics, are not exactly what I'm usually looking for in a good train read) and one that I hadn't already read, and the Bill Bryson books were about the only things in the apartment that fit that bill. So I jumped in to this one.

And, boy, am I ever glad I did. I'm only about a third of the way through, but I'm thoroughly enjoying it. I mean, sure, he annoys me sometimes, but some of it is just so funny.

Last night, I happened on a passage that was particularly close to my heart. As any regular readers will know, I have a bit of a grudge against the senior citizens (see exhibits A, B, C, and D, and there's more where that came from). Not all of them, but, well, quite nearly all of them. So this bit really made my day (chapter 8, page 75, for those of you with the 2001 paperback edition).
I drove out to the Little White House, about two miles outside town. The parking lot was almost empty, except for an old bus from which a load of senior citizens were desembarking. The bus was from the Calvary Baptist Church in some place like Firecracker, Georgia, or Bareassed, Alabama. The old people were noisy and excited, like schoolchildren, and pushed in front of me at the ticket booth, little realizing that I wouldn't hesitate to give an old person a shove, especially a Baptist. Why is it, I wondered, that old people are always so self-centered and excitable? But I just smiled benignly and stood back, comforted by the thought that soon they would be dead.

Ah, how perfect a passage.


A down-home weekend review...

This was another downstate weekend for us.

Fiance was in Peoria for his bachelor's party, which involved a limo, a hotel room, and a random old lady attempting to give him a lap dance. So that was fun. Except for the old lady. Which was gross. Because she was old old. And celebrating her birthday with some friends and her daughter. So yeah.

I was in Decatur with my family. It was a fabulous weekend, really.

I finalized everything with the cake lady. And paid her. And gave her the topper for my cake. (Which is an adorable 1950s vintage ceramic bride and groom figurine from Germany that I got for $5 at the stationery store down the street from my apartment. Rock on.)

My lovely mother, as a special bonus gift, bought me a very pretty necklace to wear for the wedding.

I practiced decorating a few sugar cookies with the dessert decorating kit my sisters gave me for the shower. I need the practice because I will be decorating cookies for the wedding.

We went to a movie (The Devil Wears Prada, which wasn't good, but was entertaining, and was free--because Mom took all us girls). We had homemade pizza for dinner, which I love. (Fiance laughs a lot at how food-crazy my family is, like we get into "special" meals...homemade pizza, homemade nachos, cinnamon rolls, etc. We're total food geeks.) And Brother, Second Sister, and I watched awesome episodes from the Batman animated series on DVD (you know, the cartoons that were on in the early 90s...FOX, I think, both Saturday mornings and after school in the afternoons). Yeah, they are so cool. Especially the "Two-Face" episodes.

Then on Sunday we took home an embarrassingly enormous haul of "shower" presents from the ladies at my parents' church. It was so nice of them. But there was some sort of registry malfunction at Kohl's, and we ended up with a billion bath towels, a couple potato mashers, and three ice cream scoops. (And still today none of those things were listed as "purchased"!) But there was lots of nice stuff, and it was so nice of them all to think of me. And now I have tons of thank-you notes to write!

And for brunch we had yummy homemade cinnamon rolls and egg dish (I don't know exactly what it is, but it involves eggs, bread, and cheese). Thanks Mom!

And that afternoon, Mom and College Sister and her friend and I went to the mall in Bloomington before I caught my train. And I got lacy underthings for beneath-wedding-dress wear. And we found wedding ties for Dad and Brother.

Oh yeah, and did I mention that I am back to fitting just right into my dress? Go me!

And then I got home around 9:30pm and snuggled up with Fiance for the night. Because the only bad part of the weekend was that I missed him.


Language with a side of cheese toasties...

Your Linguistic Profile:
70% General American English
15% Upper Midwestern
5% Midwestern
5% Yankee
0% Dixie

Apparently, my speech is boring and normal. Of course, they didn't ask about "cheese toasties"*. That probably would have thrown things off a bit.

*"Cheese toasties" are grilled cheese sandwiches. I never realized that it was an abnormal thing to say until I went to college. Where my friends teased me mercilessly. The only person who would back me up was GT from down the hall, who was also from around Decatur (Illinois). So maybe it's a Decatur thing. Or maybe we're just freaks. If you know the deal with cheese toasties, please weigh in on this.

Queen of the dumbasses (and this time I'm not even talking about me)...

Saturday night, rather late, on the Red Line, I heard the most ridiculous girl talking to a girl who was at least ridiculous by association.

Here is what she said:
"Oh my god! I was down by Soldier Field, and there were fags everywhere. I mean, I'm not a homophobe or anything, but it made me sick."

Really? You're not? Then you might want to keep the slurs and disgust under wraps a bit, or people might get the wrong idea.


I mean, I don't hate ingnorant over-tanned bimbo bigots or anything, but you kind of made me throw up in my mouth a little bit.


Rebel, rebel...

I am not a Bush supporter, as you may imagine, since I [hopefully] appear to have a teeny bit of sense rattling around my head.

However, many people in the industry I represent at work are hard-core Republicans. Bush lovers, rather than haters or not-care-ers, even. Therefore--and for a host of other reasons, really--I keep my political views under wraps around here.

For weeks now, there has been this belligerent little message taped to the cupboard door by the fridge in our little work kitchen:
President Bush stated again today
that he supports nuclear power.

This is YOUR bread and butter.

Today, I ripped it down.

Oh yeah.

The weekend report: Bridal shower edition...

It was a fabulous weekend, despite how blazingly hot it is here in Chicago.

Fiance left on Thursday for his trip to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with his dad.

My Mom and sisters came up Friday evening. They picked me up in La Grange after work, and we drove up to my aunt's in Evanston. Her new condo rocks. It is so cute. Very nice, good sized, lots of character. I want it. Anyway, so we went to dinner at some Italian place in walking distance of her condo. It was delicious, but I can't remember it's name. Then it was back to her place for some Martha Stewart crafting type activities. While she hurried about with her husband cleaning and preparing for the next day's bridal shower, Mom, the sisters, and I made gift bags. Not made like stuffed with goodies, though College Sister did take care of that part. But Mom, Second Sister, and I actually made the bags. Out of some stiff--and gorgeous--wrapping paper. I must say, they turned out fabulously.

Saturday began with the sisters and me getting manicures and pedicures, thanks to our wonderful Mother. She sent us to a spa up near my Aunt's for this while they prepped food for the shower. The manicure was fine, but the pedicure was heavenly. The sisters and I agree that we need to do it much more often.

Then it was shower time. It was lovely. My Aunt did a fabulous job, people mingled well, the food was tasty, and the gifts--holy shit, there were so many of them. But mostly it was just nice to see everyone and have a nice, girly little tea party event. I loved it.

Then the sisters, and a couple of friends from college, and I went and grabbed dinner at the Blind Faith Cafe. I love that place...all the vegetarian goodies a girl could want. I got the terryaki tofu, and it was great. I think everyone else was a fan of their meals, too.

Then College Sister and the friends took me out pseudo-bachelorette-style. We went to the Baton Show Lounge downtown. It's a transvestite lip-synch revue. Some of the "girls" were much better than others. And the entire audience was made up of bachelorette parties. But it was a fun time.

Sunday I hung out with the College Sister for awhile. Then Fiance got home from his trip. And we spent the rest of the afternoon evening relaxing under the ceiling fans--we have no AC--and trying not to die of heat stroke.

The end.

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